Chapter Text
Yoongi is lying on his side in the middle of the large expanse of his bed, among a pile of pillows and cocooned in a soft blanket he was begged to buy by someone who hasn’t laid on his bed in a long time. He shivers when Seokjin enters the room and a gust of wind follows after him. The room is dark save for a single candle on the bedside table, and the flame casts shadows on Yoongi’s face that make him look as ill as he really feels. The drapes of his bed are drawn just enough to protect him from the harsh ceiling light that Seokjin doesn’t think twice about turning on.
“In the name of Dracula, you should call him,” Seokjin says worriedly when his eyes land on the deplorable state of health his friend is in. Yoongi has been in bed all day, quite out of character for him when he’s in the midst of producing a new album for Namjoon, his eyes are puffy giving away the fact that he’s been crying, and he looks paler than usual, which is quite worrying considering his vampirism.
“I don’t want to,” Yoongi replies, pouting like a scolded child. He pulls the covers up to his nose and glares.
“Yoongi,” Seokjin says disapprovingly as he approaches the bed.
“Jin, did I turn you to be my butler or my mother?” Yoongi grumbles as Seokjin picks up the half empty cup of tea that Yoongi forgot to finish.
“Honestly, at this point I like to think that you turned me to be your good friend who happens to clean after you,” Seokjin says, eyeing the cup's contents and the crumpled tissues on the bedside table.
Yoongi groans, moving the blanket to cover his face completely this time. They’ve been friends for centuries at this point so Seokjin knows this is his way of agreeing when he’s too flustered to do it with words.
“I’m sure he’d be fine with it,” Seokjin says moments later when he enters the room again and sets another hot cup of tea on the bedside table.
“No,” Yoongi mumbles, still hidden under the covers. “He hates me.”
“I know for a fact that he doesn’t hate you, Yoongi. He’d be worried if he saw you, it’s not that big of a deal.”
There is a moment of silence before Yoongi answers, his voice a little more quiet, a little more vulnerable.
“I can’t.”
Seokjin lets him be, it’s clear that they won’t be getting anywhere with this conversation any time soon. He should ask Hoseok to come over, maybe he’d be more persuasive. Maybe Yoongi would finally listen.
Seokjin lets Yoongi know about the tea that's been infused with a subtle amount of blood to make him feel better and closes the door on his way out of the room. Yoongi will be fine but he hates seeing him like this. A whole decade later and he hasn’t gotten any better.
Yoongi shivers, a fresh wave of nausea settles in the pit of his stomach, contrasting greatly with the ache of thirst in his throat. His head is pounding and his eyes fill with tears no matter how hard he tries to blink them away. He doesn’t like crying, but the last time he saw Jimin he’d made him cry, and the memory of it returns to haunt him whenever he thinks about him.
There was a time when Yoongi and Jimin thought they’d be together forever. When they loved each other so much that it felt like they needed it to survive. Well Yoongi still needs Jimin, but Jimin doesn’t need him. Despite how desperately Yoongi wants him to. But in the end it’s all his fault, he was the stupid one who had it all and chose to end it.
As a vampire Yoongi thought nothing would ever surprise him anymore. He thought he’d seen it all, and then Jimin came along. The prettiest, sweetest, fairy was ready to give him unconditional love from the day they met. Yoongi felt like the luckiest man when he’d see the fairy’s wings fluster after every kiss, when he’d catch the soft blush of his cheeks, when he got to be the cause of his melodic laugh.
Jimin once loved him. Jimin loved him so much Yoongi doesn’t think he’ll need anyone else’s love for the rest of his life. Jimin loved him so much that when he heard fairy blood was exquisite to vampires, irresistible, delicious, and incomparable to anything else, of course he offered his darling boyfriend a taste. Yoongi knew it’d be addicting, but he also knew already that he’d never be able to get over Jimin regardless. What did it matter when he was obsessed with his pretty boy already?
Jimin’s blood left an aftertaste on his teeth that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about. It slid down his throat like sweet honey, with a texture he wouldn’t be able to describe and a taste he’ll never be able to forget. Yoongi still craves it. Jimin’s blood and only Jimin’s. He’s been struggling with withdrawal for a full decade now. The longest ten years of his life. Even the wars he’s fought, haven't been as rough as being without Jimin.
It’s always worse when he’s stressed, Yoongi tends to lose himself in his work, in his music, he forgets to eat and to rest and then his body craves the fairy’s blood like he’s never craved anything else before. And right now, in the midst of signing new contracts and producing a whole new album for the biggest artist in his record label, Yoongi has been extremely stressed.
“I feel like you should go home,” Namjoon says, walking out from the recording booth to find Yoongi taking a nap at the controls.
“Huh?” the disoriented vampire asks, drool at the corner of his mouth. His lips are swollen where his fangs have been digging into his skin. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine. That was great,” he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and leans back on his chair.
“First of all, I just started yodeling in the middle of the recording and I don’t think you even noticed. Also, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, you look like you’re about to die.”
“I’m already dead.”
“Well I’m afraid you’ll die again. As your responsible friend I’m telling you to go home because I don’t know the first thing about vampire’s first aid,” Namjoon pulls Yoongi by the arm to stand up and the shorter man follows. Yoongi blinks tiredly, a shiver running down his spine and then he scrunches his nose in disgust.
“You smell like wet dog,” he murmurs, pushing past Namjoon to grab his laptop. He is so much more sensitive to scents when he’s sick. Maybe befriending a werewolf wasn’t such a good idea.
“Thanks? The full moon is approaching. Ah, but I showered with Jungkook this morning and-“
“Too much information, Joon. I don’t care,” the fact that his werewolf friend is going out with a dog hybrid also doesn’t help. Yoongi thinks about it for a second and is convinced whatever Namjoon was about to say wasn’t worth it. Werewolves are very open and Namjoon is no exception, at this point Yoongi might’ve seen his friend naked as many times as Jungkook has. “Wait, I do care,” he realizes suddenly and turns around sharply at the door of his studio, crashing straight into Namjoon’s chest. He’s strong and warm and Yoongi has to fight the urge to fall asleep leaning against him where he stands.“Are you guys finally dating?”
“Ah,” the redness of his friend’s face is enough of an answer.
“Unbelievable.”
“Hey! Have you called Jimin already? I doubt it because you look like shit.”
“What happened to saying things in the nicest way?” Yoongi walks quickly to the elevators, Namjoon following closely behind after locking the door to the studio. “Jin told you?” he asks, closing his eyes and leaning against one of the elevator walls for support.
“Yeah. He’s worried about you.”
“Well I don’t need anyone’s pity. I’ll be fine. It’s too late for calling. He’s moved on by now.” But he doesn’t know that for sure, and truth be told he hopes he’s wrong.
***
Two days later Yoongi worries for his own sanity. He is curled up in bed once more, shivering, biting into a little pillow, one of the last ones that miraculously, somehow, still faintly smells of Jimin’s perfume.
He’s nauseous, dizzy, and weak. Struggling to even keep his eyes open and incapable of moving. For the first time since he was turned he feels cold . A sharp chill filters under the covers and reaches his bones.
He gives in then, delirious for the third night in a row with a fever that has left him uncomfortably damp. Yoongi picks up his phone and calls the one person he’s been missing for ten years. The one person he’s been dying to call, dying to hear, dying to touch.
As it rings he isn’t sure Jimin will pick up. Honestly, why would he? Yoongi broke his heart. He let his fear get between them and made him suffer like everyone warned Jimin he would.
Maybe he deserves this, Yoongi thinks, the silence on the other side of the line deafeningly loud, maybe it’s fate’s way of showing him how much pain he must’ve caused Jimin. But Yoongi was never good enough for him, they both knew that all along.
“Hello?”
Yoongi closes his eyes. His stomach swirls and his throat feels dry. He desperately wanted to be enough, but his Jimin was always too much.
“I need you.”