Chapter Text
“Get back! Move now! Jeongguk, MOVE !”
But Jeongguk can’t move. His feet are frozen in place. He just stares at the vampire coming towards him, running at lightning speed, a sword of pure silver gripped tightly in his fist, ready to plunge it into Jeongguk’s heart, to kill him.
It never should have come to this. This war between vampires should never have happened. And it wouldn’t have if not for the egos of the ones who had argued against putting a vampire Council in place, at least not in the positive ways some of their kind hoped for, shirking at the idea of reasonableness and diplomacy.
This faction of vampires believed they were entitled to the position of leading all other vampires, liked the idea of a Council, yes, but they wanted it built on fear. Strength. Power. No longer hiding from the mortals. No longer living in shadows, feasting in silhouettes. They didn’t believe in fairness like the pro-Council wanted. In fact, they loathed it, didn’t want to let everyone have a voice, a say in who should lead them.
Some vampires were too inferior for such a voice, they chided. And now, thanks to the charismatic charm of their elected leader, who had channeled that anger into action, who had stirred up dissent and encouraged some of the vampires to fight back, the civil war between the vampires had started.
Jeongguk chose the side that wanted to be democratic, to remain hidden from humans. That decision had far reaching repercussions, irreparable, but it was the right thing to do, something he refused to regret. What the other side wanted was not right. It couldn’t happen. It would be a danger to all.
The war was exclusively vampire versus vampire. The werewolves didn’t offer their help, feeling as if this war was beneath them, irrelevant to them. In short, it wasn’t their problem. They could live amongst humans. The less vampires the better.
The warlocks could only do so much. The laws of their kind didn’t allow for strong interference, lest they attempt to control Fate, which was against their rules.
Jeongguk put himself at the front lines of battle to fight for the rights pro-Council hoped for - for all vampires’ voices to be heard, for a collective whole to decide the next best steps when needed. And perhaps most importantly, remaining fictitious beings to humans. It was crucial.
There’s a sense of sardonicism to this. He almost died his first death in battle. He’s now in a fight that very well may lead to his second death.
But then he’s being pushed. Hard. He finally comes to the realization that if he doesn’t get his ass in gear he really will die, and he’s not ready for that. His vampire brethren need him. The vampires that will come after, years and decades and centuries later, need him.
So he raises his own silver sword, the handle made out of steel to protect his hands from the burn that silver causes, and he runs towards the vampire who is now raising his own sword. But he never gets a chance to swing down, because Jeongguk has sliced the vampire’s torso in two, a burst of blood and tissue disintegrating into the air.
“Keep going, Jeongguk! There’s hundreds more!”
The shouts of Jeongguk’s longtime friend and ally, Park Mingyu, keep him from allowing any lingering feelings of fear to take over. He’s already killed one vampire, maybe it will get easier and easier as he kills more. Or maybe he will live to regret all of this. Maybe he’ll allow all the wars he will see throughout his long life to render him a tortured, pained, bitter vampire that can no longer remember what beauty still lies in the world.
Or maybe he doesn’t have time to think about any of that right now, because another vampire is charging towards him.
Jeongguk raises his sword again, and again, and again, until he’s covered in a thick layer of ruby red blood, his boots already caked in mud and gore as vampires fall to his feet.
Then he hears Mingyu again.
“Jeongguk! Help! Get these fuckers off me!”
Jeongguk turns, finding that Mingyu is trying his damndest to fight off two vampires who have somehow managed to knock him to the ground.
He runs to aid his friend, the person who has been by his side for so many years. Mingyu is basically family. His brother. He’s been one of his strongest pillars of support, especially when he was at his darkest moments.
He’s too late to help him, because someone gets there first. Lee Kwan.
Jeongguk freezes. He hasn’t seen him since the start of all of this, when they had parted ways, chosen different sides.
Kwan chuckles. He doesn’t seem as impacted to be in his presence.
“Wait,” Kwan tells the fledglings. Mingyu strains against them, but remains immobile, flanked in between.
“Hi, pet,” Kwan says with a lazy drawl.
It feels like a warlock has plucked the words right out from Jeongguk’s throat, his voice inaudible as he opens his mouth to nothing but a staunch silence.
It doesn’t seem to matter to the vampire across from him, plowing on with his own thoughts.
“We could’ve changed things,” Kwan says bitingly. “We could’ve led a new world, a new order, side by side.”
Finally, his voice comes back. “I’m not your pet. Not anymore. And you and I both know that’s not the way. We have to protect our anonymity.”
“Fools, all of you,” he responds cuttingly. “You’d rather us hide in the shadows, be nothing more than mythical creatures hiding in coffins, blood crazed. Lies, all of it!” Kwan fumes. “We are strong. We are smart. We should be feared, respected. If they knew who we were, what we were capable of, the world would be ours. We are better than them. You know it to be true.”
It isn’t true. None of it is. Not to Jeongguk.
“We were all mortal once. We are no better because we’ve been given this gift. Some would say it’s a curse.”
“Immortality, never aging, is a curse?” Kwan has always been vain, and it shows in his question.
“You have to watch those you love die. You have to take life to have life,” Jeongguk counters.
“Ah, but according to your allegiances, we don’t need to drain them fully to satiate our hunger. I believe your side even wants laws in place enacting as much. Keeping those pitiful creatures safe.” He spits into the soil, disgusted. “And you want all vampires to have a voice. All . Regrettable. Some are incompetent, should’ve never become vampires.” His eyes linger as he says it, a cruel smirk playing across his face. “You want to let them vote.” The venomous smirk drops abruptly, turning into a sneer. “You want them to have a say going forward. Pathetic.”
“It’s the right way,” Jeongguk says firmly.
Kwan sighs, already bored with the topic.
“There’s still time. We’ve done great things together. We still can. Come, pet.” Kwan could care less that Jeongguk has denounced the nickname. He holds out a hand, palm facing the sky, beckoning.
They’ve done nothing great together.
Jeongguk’s body is screaming, despite the drastic steps he’s taken to stop this. His heart feels like it’s being ripped to shreds. Things may not have been good leading up to this, but it’s what he knew.
Everything he’s known and loved has been torn apart in this war.
“No,” he manages to gasp out, the one word paining him.
“So be it.” He shrugs. “Kill him,” Kwan instructs the fledglings.
The command is the only prompt they need.
“Mingyu! No!”
All the yelling in the world won’t save his friend from certain death as the two vampires turn to Mingyu, their swords raised, hitting their target right in the chest. Mingyu gasps, collapsing.
Jeongguk can’t hear anything, but he knows he’s screaming. His anger flares, heart thundering with nothing but pure rage. An inferno ignites within.
The fledglings that murdered his best friend move towards him, springing for a second attack.
They don’t see it coming. They don’t stand a chance against the blinding wrath that propels Jeongguk to kill them both with one sweeping strike of his sword.
Kwan vanishes in the chaos. Jeongguk wants to give chase but knows it’s futile. He’s always been the most capable vampire he’s known when it comes to vanishing without a trace.
Besides, Mingyu needs him.
As the fledglings’ remains seep into the dirt, Jeongguk kneels beside Mingyu, but there is no opportunity for last words. Mingyu is gone. Dead. Even with the blood coating his chest, his face looks serene. He doesn’t disintegrate the way the others have. Mingyu is strong, has been around for centuries already. It will be hours before his body disappears, when there will be nothing left of the greatest friend Jeongguk has ever had.
“No! Fuck! No!”
Jeongguk’s shouts of agony are so loud that he feels the ground beneath him shake, or maybe it’s his entire body overcome with an aching sadness that he somehow knows he will have no choice but to learn to live with.
“Mingyu! Why?! Fucking why !?”
He can’t stop yelling.
“WHY? WHY?!”
It’s the yelling at the top of his lungs that somehow shoves him back into where he is currently lying in his room, shooting up out of his bed. If he wasn’t undead he’s certain his pulse would be racing and his forehead damp. He looks around to discover that he’s not on a battlefield watching his best friend die. He’s back in 2022, a hundred years later.
He sits up, unsettled. Centuries old, it’s a feat he hasn’t had a nightmare in decades. He could put Stephen King to shame with the horrors he’s lived through.
Yet even though he’s fully awake, the flashbacks continue, relentless, a never ending movie reel on loop. Mingyu falling. The rabid, rogue vampires. Kwan. The blood. So much blood. The unbearable pain of failing his best friend.
The only good thing that had come from that battle was that it had been the catalyst needed for the Council to succeed. Before, there were whispered concerns the rogue could very well win, so void of empathy, crazed in bloodlust, with little regard for any being in their path.
The war had the capability to go either way throughout its entirety, and easily could’ve favored the rogue, if little things hadn’t accumulated into a whole.
If one of the rogue hadn’t been captured and tortured for information, which had then led to the pro-Council side surprising the enemy at a key point and annihilating those in the vicinity, perhaps Jeongguk’s side wouldn’t have won.
If the pro-Council didn’t carry the lauded supernatural abilities that some of their kin did, perhaps they wouldn’t have won. As it was, they had the backing of some of the mightiest vampires in the realm, whereas the anti-Council had the support of mere fledglings, too young and inexperienced to really hone skills past the standard super human strength and speed. There were more aces on the pro-Council side.
Pro-Council, indeed, boasted some enviable vampires; Jeongguk, himself, who could speak to flames and control them at his slightest whims, another with wings for feet, so fast, even beyond what vampires were capable of, that it was like she could teleport, the designated Hermes of the Earth. Another boasted the ability to move objects with her mind, telekinetic. On the list went, attributes formidable. The older had the time and patience to perfect their craft, channel it in a way typically unseen by younger kin, most definitely not the fledglings. It puts the rogue at a massive disadvantage, because besides their leader with his ability, the majority on their side were untrained. Traits were still latent in some.
Still, the rogue side had the odds tipped in their favor by virtue of the sheer size of their battalion, the madness of their clan. And though the battle was fierce, silver plated swords and the sun ever present threats, and though the strongest of the pro-Council could only do so much, even with magic on their side, their fierce determination had prevailed. It was a relief, the possibility of winning unclear until the final swing of the sword.
Perhaps, saddest of all, if Jeongguk hadn’t lost Mingyu, pro-Council possibly would’ve lost. Because in his grief, he became even more hardened, more ruthless, and he took unimaginable risks that paid dividends, took the blaze inside his heart and ignited the landscape around him, burning anyone in his path. It helped tip the odds in pro-Council’s success.
After, a series of laws and regulations were proposed, drafted and passed. No longer could just any vampire sire, as they had before, when it suited whims or interests. Retaining their secrecy from mortals was of the utmost importance. Fledglings were truly like human newborns, needing the patience, wisdom and experience that only older vampires could provide.
Because of this, it was decreed that only those of the age one hundred or older from then on could become sires. Disobedience was punishable by severe pain, followed by an even more painful death. Vampires had nothing but time, so they had gotten quite creative in their instruments of torture. It was a sobering enough reason to respect the rules.
Jeongguk had watched it all unfold from the silhouettes of a corner before slipping away quietly into the night. Decades later, he would be invited to sit in on Council meetings, highly respected for his single handed bravery and skill on the battlefield, an unofficial member who soon became a reluctant official member. He would occasionally attend, mostly out of sheer boredom, but more times than not he would decline. Solace was what he sought, and what he clung to, after the war had finished and weapons had been discarded.
There were other lasting repercussions from the war. Vampires, with their long memory, never forgot the werewolves refusal to assist, and it fractured their relationship even further. They still haven’t forgiven, even over a hundred years later.
Personally, the war had lasting effects for Jeongguk himself. He carried permanent internal scars, erected deeply into his heart.
Losing Mingyu stung for close to nine decades before the hurt started to morph into an ache, eventually becoming a periodic pang, as it was now in the present. It never went away, not fully. It just got more bearable to live with.
Losing Kwan hurt in other ways, nameless ways. He waited for him to show up, to try to claim him, to come back to him, to hurt him, but the years stretched on and it was like he was living with a ghost. Some days were more manageable, and others, had him agitated at the possibilities.
He’s not exactly sure why he had this nightmare. It’s been so long since he’s revisited this exact memory, and he’s not even sure why the thoughts won’t subside now that he’s alert. Unnerved, he makes his way to the sleek kitchen, modernized, at his friend Jimin’s insistence, despite its minimal usage.
“Farmhouse sinks are all the rage for mortals right now,” Jimin had said one evening as he’d thumbed through a Traditional Home magazine.
“All the rage? Is that the expression they’re using? Whatever happened to ‘I dig it?’ Besides, I’ll never use it.”
“People still use ‘dig it’. They just use ‘all the rage’ too. And you’re getting it,” he had said flippantly, turning to the next page.
A plumber had come a few days later, a late night, more costly, call due to it being after working hours. Jeongguk begrudgingly allowed him in, then sent the bill to Jimin.
He stares at the monstrosity that is the enormous sink as he turns on the light and yanks the fridge open, pulling a blood bag out of one of the side drawers.
Normally, he’d warm it, but the stress of his night terror makes him impatient, and he rips it open and gulps it down. The coolness soothes, albeit slightly, but it doesn’t distract. It’s like there’s an itch on his brain, some niggling hunch, that can’t be scratched.
Loving a good sunset, and too perturbed to attempt further sleep, Jeongguk takes another pint and plants himself on his couch, one piece of furniture, besides his bed, that he paid handsomely for. He may be unbothered and unimpressed with a lot of things, after centuries of seeing and doing just about everything imaginable, but one thing hasn’t changed, and that’s his enduring fondness for soft surfaces under his ass, molded around his body. If it can be complete with a good sunrise, or sunset, with a good book, maybe even an animal curled into his lap, it’s even better.
He sips and watches as the sun sinks into the horizon and vanishes, replaced by a full moon, the pale tints of salmon and rose in the vast sky transitioning to violet and sapphire.
Restless, he finishes then discards his second snack before making his way out into the brisk chill of dusk. Perhaps some fresh air will clear his mind.
Temperatures do not affect him, and he doesn’t need to breathe to survive, but he has always found comfort in nature, and a walk around the grounds might be the trick to dissipate his unceasing thoughts.
Letting the blackness of the night and the enormity of the trees swallow him into nature, Jeongguk paces, absorbing the sounds of the crickets, admiring the periodic lightings of the fireflies that flicker near.
He finds himself calmed, but it doesn’t last long. Thirty minutes into his stroll, he smells a vampire, but he’s not expecting anyone, and it’s a scent unfamiliar to him. It has him baring his teeth and flexing claws, eyes surely flashing crimson, predatory, as he stealthily tracks the fragrance of what must be a fledgling. He’s been around long enough he’s confident it’s a newbie, the aroma of newly turned blood mingling with stark fear and confusion.
Rounding the corner, he spots a figure curled into the blades of grass, quietly sobbing, unaware of his presence.
“What’s happening to me? It hurts! Why does everything hurt?” The voice, distinctly male, whimpers out. Jeongguk reluctantly notes it’s a deliciously deep voice, but the thought is fleeting, comes and then goes just as fast as it’s entered, because his primary concerns are to determine who this person is and why the hell he’s on his land.
It’s clear the crying male isn’t a threat. Jeongguk walks towards him, crouching down.
“Who are you?” He asks.
His voice startles the male, who jolts and tips his face towards him, tear tracks down his cheeks.
It’s Jeongguk’s turn to be startled, the fledgling so beautiful he’s almost too unreal to have ever been a mere mortal. It rattles him for a moment.
“T-Taehyung,” he gasps out. “P-please help me. I don’t know where I am and everything hurts.” His fingers dig into his skin as he speaks, eyes flashing a vivid red even as he sobs in his pain and confusion.
“Who were you with before?” Jeongguk continues his inquiry, determined to get to the bottom of this. Most vampires in the vicinity know better than to trek onto his land without an invite. He’s not much for social interactions or surprise appearances. Whoever was with this Taehyung person was either very bold or very stupid.
Jeongguk has a feeling it’s the latter.
“Daeshim. I was with Daeshim . I don’t know where he is. My head feels like cotton candy.”
Jeongguk isn’t familiar with the name Taehyung has provided. It makes him frown, concerned. The only thing he can come up with is this Daeshim had come with Taehyung into the woods, unaware it’s vampire territory, and for whatever reason has abandoned Taehyung.
Jeongguk takes a quick check of Taehyung’s appearance and easily surmises he’s newly turned, a fledgling. He hasn’t sired a vampire in almost a century, no longer having the patience to deal with newborn demands for blood that escalate into toddler tantrums about wanting fancy velvet suits and red, silk sheets like that’s what vampires are into or something (never mind that silk sheets aren’t breathable, the horror).
Yet, Taehyung is here, on his land, and that makes him his obligation. Humans must never know they exist, and if Taehyung is left to his own accord there is a very credible possibility he will do untold damage, his hunger unchecked and uncontrollable without the aid of a seasoned vampire to assist and curb it.
It’s his duty, for the sake of his kind, for Mingyu’s death to not be in vain, to uphold the legislation of his people and nurture Taehyung into a capable vampire, one who delves in secrecy and shadows like he does, like the rest of their law abiding kin do. He doesn’t have a choice.
They always say the strangest things happen during a full moon. Jeongguk certainly can’t deny the truth in it as he lifts and carries Taehyung to his home.
*****
“Fuck this. You’re breaking up with me? With me ?” Daeshim had shouted, eyes full of resentment fueled by Taehyung’s decision to end their relationship .
Hazy. His mind swirls with the fragmented pieces of conversations, sharp tones and harsh words. Daeshim’s eyes had been so different. Cruel.
“You think you can just walk away from this? Don’t you know who I am? Don’t you know what I am?”
Taehyung remembers being too shocked by Daeshim’s sudden change from his usual calm demeanor to question anything that Daeshim had said, only that he really wanted to get away.
And that’s when things turned from what should have been a regular breakup to something unexplainable.
Sting. There had been a sting of discomfort on his wrist that had soon contorted into unbearable agony.
“You always said you loved the sun. Let’s see how much you like it now.”
Shove. He faintly remembers being thrown onto the ground, grass brushing into exposed skin.
“Fuck you.”
Bitter. The final words spoken to him had been bitter.
He doesn’t recall much else, the affliction too great to be coherent. The pain, like the tide, swelled, reached a crescendo, then ebbed away, leaving in its wake a very weakened, broken boy, confused and frightened.
This is who Jeongguk finds, though Taehyung is still not fully lucid to comprehend much of what’s being asked or said of him.
What he distinctly remembers, in all the splintered pieces of his memory, are gentle hands encircling his lithe waist and lifting him up, cradling him into a foreign home, depositing him onto a soft, cushioned couch.
When he comes to, more cognizant, hours later, it’s to a steaming cup on the table beside him, the contents dark. He sniffs, can’t place what it is, but doesn’t find the smell unpleasant. If anything, it makes his mouth water.
“It’s blood,” Jeongguk informs him without preamble. He’s sitting across from him, surveying him from steepled fingers.
Despite his confusion, and the ache still thrumming in his body, he can’t help but think the mysterious man across from him is the most beautiful he’s ever seen. His hair is raven colored, eyes so dark they’re almost black, and he sports a sleeve of tattoos, complete with a lip and eyebrow piercing. He’s got the makings of a bad boy personified, his personal wet dream.
A sharp shooting pain brings him back to reality, registering more fully what the man before him is saying.
“Blood?” Shock paints his features as he does a double take. He pushes the cup across the table.
“You need to drink, Taehyung,” Jeongguk says. “It’ll get your strength back up.”
“How do you know my name?” He asks wearily.
“You told it to me,” he explains patiently.
“I don't know your name,” he points out. “Seems unfair.”
“Unfair, huh?” The man looks amused.
“Just a little bit.” He may be confused, but he still wants an even playing field.
“It’s Jeongguk. Jeon Jeongguk. It probably goes without saying but this is my home.” He gestures at their surroundings, the expanse of the living room alone spacious enough that it could easily fit Taehyung’s entire apartment, he thinks. “I imagine you have a lot of questions. Drink. You’re probably hungry. That’ll satiate you. I’ll answer all of your questions in the meantime.”
“I’m not really hungry,” he attempts to say, but his stomach gurgles and gives him away.
Jeongguk smiles. “I promise, it’ll help.”
Reluctantly, he reaches for the cup, hesitantly bringing it to his lips and taking a small sip, allowing the slightest bit of the sanguine liquid to trickle down his throat.
It’s incredible, which surprises him, and he greedily gulps the remaining contents down, mouth already watering for more. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Could I have another cup, please?”
“One more.” Jeongguk holds up his pointer for emphasis. “Too much of anything is never a good thing. So it goes with this as well.”
He excuses himself, but Taehyung literally blinks and he’s back.
What the hell is going on? Is he concussed?
He gingerly takes the cup, inhaling the aroma before doing his best to drink it down more slowly, savoring.
“Tell me what you know about vampires,” Jeongguk prompts.
“Vampires?” He can’t help but wonder if he’s being pranked. Surely what he drank wasn’t blood? People don’t just drink blood . It’s a sure fire way to develop a bloodborne illness, get sick. Maybe he’s dreaming. It would explain the walking, talking personification of his wet dreams right before him.
“It depends on what vampires you’re talking about,” he finally decides to say. “If they’re Buffy style vamps, they have no souls. Can’t walk in the sun. Can’t step foot in a church. Can’t step foot in people’s homes without being invited. Are killed by silver or crucifixes. Holy water harms. Tragically for them, their faces get extremely ugly when they morph. Yuck.” He ticks off a mental list as he rants.
“Vamps?” Jeongguk surveys him in mirth.
“Vamps,” he repeats, not exactly sure why this is so amusing to him. “You have your horrendous excuse for what they call vampires in Twilight , all that glittery ‘oh look I’m in the sun’, pretty boy, bullshit. But their powers are super cool. I like that one dude that can control the elements. I like the movies but the vampires themselves aren’t so cool. Let’s see. Oh, then you have your badass vampires like Dracula . Turns into a bat, gets burned by crosses, hates garlic.”
“People are never going to let that nickname go, are they?” Jeongguk sighs. “I’ll have to tell Vlad to just accept it.”
“Vlad the Impaler? You act like you know him.” Taehyung snorts, rejuvenated after drinking his second cup of whatever that was.
“Oh, but I do,” Jeongguk continues. “He’s gotten to be a pretty pleasant guy in his old age, though his reputation precedes him. I will say, in his defense, he does his absolute best to avoid stakes in his immortality.”
“Whatever you’re smoking, pass it this way,” Taehyung jokes, setting the cup onto the table and sitting back.
Jeongguk merely smiles. “ Twilight is an embarrassment,” he concedes. “Eating animals.” He scoffs. “As if they merit death over humans. Please. Humans are the monsters. Animals are just trying to survive. And to even attempt to portray us civilized beings to stoop so lowly and harm the precious creatures of this planet is completely asinine.” He huffs, pinching his nose in irritation. Taehyung has to agree with him there. “Though they got the powers part right,” he throws out unenthusiastically. “That’s about all they got right, if I may add. The movies are trash. Anyway, powers are an intrinsic part of our being. Some develop their abilities pretty quickly, for others it can lay dormant for some time. Some end up with really amazing abilities while others just get a boost in what we’re already gifted with. For instance, we’re already faster than mortals, but a vampire’s gift could be that they’re slightly faster than that already increased speed experienced by our kind. Not as noticeable or flashy of a skill, of course. But whether it springs up quickly or is latent for decades, whether it’s a subtler gift or grander, it still takes time to harness and gain full control and usage of it.”
He stares down at his fingers, flexing them. “Sunlight does kill us, no matter how long you’ve walked the earth. As does pure silver and crucifixes. Holy water slows us down. Garlic is bullshit. Fangs extend and retract. Same with claws. You can step foot in public places, though lingering in a church will burn you, but you can’t enter a private dwelling without an invitation. Let’s see,” he sifts through the points Taehyung rattled off. “Ah, we can turn into bats. It’s quite fun actually.”
“ We can turn into bats? Us? Our? You talk as if vampires exist.”
“They do,” Jeongguk says. “I’m one. You’re one. I’m not making this up.”
Taehyung doesn’t know if he should laugh, cry or run, so he settles on a convoluted, hysterical giggle that has the makings to become a cry.
“How–how am I a vampire? I mean, I know I like to sleep all day and party all night, but that’s just being a bartender. Doesn’t make me a bloodsucker.”
Jeongguk sniffs a laugh.
“Another common misconception,” he says. “We don’t actually suck, we drink. Once you hit the right artery, the blood just kind of flows. Sucking usually only happens with fledglings like you, until you learn how to properly bite, of course.”
Taehyung stares at the strange guy, waiting for the punchline.
“You’re fucking with me, right? Where’s the camera? Did Daeshim put you up to this? That asshole. I know he’s pissed at me but this is next level shitty.”
Jeongguk sits back in his chair, sighing.
“I know this is a lot for you, but this isn’t a joke. Daeshim is definitely an asshole, but not for the reason you think.”
Taehyung still isn’t convinced. Either this super weird guy is in cahoots with his new ex-boyfriend, or he’s clinically insane, which would be a huge loss for everyone considering how sexy the guy looks in the glow of the fireplace in front of them.
“Taehyung, listen to me. Daeshim was a vampire. He bit you to turn you and he left you out in the open, where anyone could find you. But even deadlier, where the sun could have killed you. Turned you to dust. He wanted to murder you. Only vampires ever do shit that is that melodramatic.”
Murder him? That sounds a little extreme, even for someone like Daeshim who had an undeniable love of theatrics.
“This is ridiculous. Just point me to the front door so I can get as far away from your crazy ass as possible.”
Taehyung starts to get up, but before he can make his escape, a ball of fire comes hurtling out of the fireplace and stops directly in front of his face.
He can feel the heat from it, knows it’s real without even having to touch it, and he’s pretty sure he might piss himself if not for how embarrassing it would be in front of Mr. Hottie. Literally.
Before he can say a word, the globe of flames is moving, and it suddenly ends up balancing on the tip of Jeongguk’s finger.
“Vampires have powers, remember?” He says it so simply, like he didn’t just make a ball of fire his bitch. “You’ll have a power too. It could even develop within the next few weeks, depending on how much blood you consume and how well we work through your fledgling stages. It will be interesting to see what it will be.”
Taehyung gapes at him, and blinks his eyes a few times wondering when he’ll wake up from this insanely weird dream.
But it can’t be a dream, can it? That fire was real. It felt real .
“Contrary to what Twilight tries to depict, vampires do need to sleep, especially during the lighter hours when we’re immobile to the outdoors,” Jeongguk continues. “However, we don’t sleep in coffins. That’s complete and utter bullshit. Who would want to sleep in such a tight space?” He shudders. “Let me show you to a spare room. The linens were actually just replaced. Some of the softest bamboo fibers.” He turns, making his way to the stairs, Taehyung following closely behind. “I suggest you get some sleep. Think of it like some sort of newborn stage in your adult life. This will help you grow, come into your own.”
He leads him up the expansive, wide staircase to a bedroom down the very end of the hall. “You will be in the room directly across from mine, so if you need anything, I’m close by.”
He opens the door, stepping back to let Taehyung in. It’s cavernous, a chandelier in the center of the room, the considerably sized bed decorated with a canopy that curls around seemingly silky smooth sheets.
“Make yourself at home,” are Jeongguk‘s parting words, leaving Taehyung to settle in.
Forgetting vampires have super sensitive hearing, which means Jeongguk will absolutely hear, Taehyung (im)maturely does a running leap onto the bed, marveling at his own speed, the clarity of the items around him remaining in sharp focus even as he’s a blur of acceleration. Huh. Maybe Jeongguk really was being serious about this whole “being a vampire” thing.
He tumbles gracefully onto the bed, soaking in the softness that envelopes him. The sheets definitely are luxurious.
There are definitely worse places to end up, he thinks, than in an elaborate home with an undead sexy male across the hall.
To be continued...
