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It's a menace. The colourful lights of the club clash in his vision and his ears fill with a cacophony of noises; the bass that beats in his ear, the chatter of the crowd and the fucking breathing.
Honestly Hanbin has no reason to be annoyed. If he's being completely honest, by now he should be used to this.
He's a vampire.
A vampire with superhuman hearing.
Of fucking course the noises are annoying.
He can hear everything; from the muttered conversations to the feet that pound on the clubs dance floor to the lyrics of the music that flow through the overhead speakers.
But the sound he can't stand the most is the breathing and the blood pounding through the humans and other creatures mingling in the crowd.
Not to mention that Hanbin’s got a killer headache, his head throbbing to the beat of the hands on a ticking clock. He's hungry.
Logically, Hanbin knows that he should've already had his fill. Picked someone—anyone from the mass of bodies surrounding him and just had his fill.
But here's the catch: Hanbin doesn't want to.
A part of him silently whispers that its disgusting; stooping low enough to drink the blood of mundanes that barely does anything to satisfy his hunger. And then the other part of him whispers that if he doesn't feed soon he's going to be rendered incapacitated or worse; go feral.
Jiwoong is going to kill him. Or try. Same difference.
Hanbin's lips curl up into a sneer full of disdain. Mundane blood taste like Shit. He probably should be used to it by now. He isn't.
Hanbin takes a sip from the cocktail in his hand and gulps it down to soothe the discomfort of his parched throat. It doesn't help. And the alcohol feels like ash on his tongue.
Hanbin knows what he needs: blood. And he needs it soon.
He lifts the cocktail to his mouth again and lets his gaze roam around the bar, resigning to the fact that he's going to be drinking from a mundane again.
That's when he spots him.
One glance and Hanbin knows that whoever this man— or is it boy? He does look quite young— is anything but a mundane.
He's all soft curves and hidden muscles, dressed in a dark green dress suit that accentuates the lines of his figure. He's lounging on a couch across the room. This far, the only thing a human could identify would be the strangers body and lips moving.
But then again, Hanbin isn't human now, is he?
Hanbin's lips quirk up a little as he places his drink on the table, nestling his chin on the flat of his palm. It isn't long before Hanbin's eyes zero on the man's face.
He's beautiful. Strikingly so.
With strong brows and dark feline eyes, alluring with their ong lashes fanning with every flutter, lips pink and glossed over, moving slowly as he lowly converses with a woman next to him.
Hanbin watches the man, who is now cradling a drink of his own in small hands, head tipped back to survey the club with his hooded gaze.
Hanbin craves, he craves so so bad.
Hanbin can see the pulse of the man's blood as it flows through the artery along the crook of his jaw. And suddenly, Hanbin's feeling exactly like the predator he is.
He gulps down the rest of his drink and gets to his feet, turning to pay for the drink, already prepared to make his way to the man. Somehow, maybe he'll be able to take the man home today.
What do the mundies call it… two stones… two birds… ah yes ! Two birds in one stone!
Yet when Hanbin turns towards the couch after having paid for his drink, it's empty. The man is nowhere to be seen.
Hanbin lets out an inaudible sigh, groaning quietly and settling himself down against the bar, resigning to skip feeding for the nth time this week. Yes, he had come to the bar with the intention of drinking a mundane's blood but now his appetite is gone, leaving the bitter taste of a lost opportunity resting in the back of his throat.
“Hello, there.”
Hanbin startles at the voice, taken off guard as he whips his head around to stare at the man crowding him at the bar.
The man in the green dress suit.
He's smiling softly at Hanbin, and up close he looks even more beautiful than he had across the club and Hanbin—
“What. The fuck.”
The man giggles at Hanbin’s gasp, bashfully tucking a strand of his blonde hair behind his ear and leaning forward into Hanbin's space.
“I'm Matthew,” the man says, smile widening. “You are?”
Hanbin's next breath almost makes him choke on his own spit in surprise. He smells something sweet— probably the glass of wine in Matthew's hand — but surely it's something else because it's sugary like caramel, thick and cloying at his nose.
Hanbin hums in satisfaction. It's definitely Matthew's blood that smells so sweet and delectable. His cheeks feel hot to the touch where it rests against the swell of his palm but Hanbin's a confident vampire. He's got this.
He's a confident vampire who's going to be seducing Matthew and taking him home.
“Hanbin,” he says.
Matthew tilts his head and repeats it to himself, the syllables of Hanbin's name rolling of his tongue smoothly in a cadence unlike anything Hanbin's heard before. And doesn't that say a lot, really? Hanbin's old, much older than the average human anyway. He's heard enough people say his name to almost tire of it. He's hated the way some said it, loved the way some did too but it has never, never fit in anyone else's mouth comfortably. Always too much or too little.
It fits perfectly in Matthew's.
“What's a pretty boy like you doing in this part of the city?” Hanbin leans forward with a smile, baring his teeth in a menacing and predatory grin while he keeps his gaze gentle with force. Slowly. Attract slowly. Don't scare him.
Matthew's eyes flutter as he takes a slow sip of his drink. And then, he smirks. “I own this place.”
Hanbin chokes.
Okay, maybe he's well past being the cool one now. He really should've known better. After all, gay panicking at critical times and putting his own foot in his mouth were his specialties.
There's a worried gleam in Matthew's eyes as he pats Hanbin's back and that is enough for Hanbin to know that Matthew too is interested in him. Or intrigued. Whichever works as long as he's willing to let Hanbin feed and go home with him. Or so, Hanbin hopes.
“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” Matthew asks, smirk back in place now that Hanbin isn't facing the imminent threat of dying from choking on his own spit.
Hanbin feels more embarrassed about what happened than he ought to, considering that he's most certainly been in worse situations before.
He clears his throat. “No? Definitely not.” He makes a show of looking around the bar and at the dance floor. “I don't see any cats around?”
This manages to elicit another giggle out of Matthew. “Cute,” he says. “Do you know who I am, sweetheart?”
“The owner of this club?”
“Mhm?”
“...and?”
“The High Warlock of Seoul.”
Sufficient to say Hanbin has to stop himself from choking again through sheer force of will.
Matthew seems amused at Hanbin’s almost constipated expression. “Now now, why were you fixing your pretty doe eyes on me with such ferocity?” Matthew muses, cheeks bunching his face up into a crescent eyed smile. “Your stare almost pierced my skin! So sharp!”
Hanbin fumbles through his head for a proper reply. It's not like he can just tell Matthew that he really, really wants to drink his blood, now can he?
“I like looking at art,” Hanbin says, settling for the first thought that rushes through his mind.
“Oh?”
“You're art.”
Matthew's mouth falls open, he blinks at Hanbin in something like shock and bewilderment and then ducks his head. Hanbin can almost imagine the shade of pink that must be painting the apples of Matthew's cheek. It's a pity that the club's lights are so colourful.
“That's cheesy,” Matthew says, now with his head raised and eyes fixed on Hanbin. His smile is soft and bashful as he traces the rim of his wine glass with his pointer finger.
“And?” Hanbin raises one eyebrow at Matthew, slowly sliding closer to press his credit card onto the counter and gesturing at the bartender with a subtle tilt of his chin. “Let me buy you a drink.”
“No, my drink is still half full.”
“You can drink another glass now, can't you, Matthew-ssi?”
Matthew sighs, face a mixture of resigned, exasperated and bashful. “....okay. and please, just call me Matthew.”
“Oh? Comfortable with me already?”
Matthew doesn't answer, simply folds his right leg over his left and leans back to take another delicate sip of his wine.
And then, in the next second, without any prior warning, he grabs Hanbin by his nape and pulls him into a soft kiss.
It's the kind of kiss that Hanbin wants to drown in. Pillow soft lips pressing on one another and tongues sliding in with ease.
Hanbin braces his forearms against the bar top, crowding Matthew in as his lips move against Matthew's to kiss him all the more deeper. The taste of wine feels almost heady on his tongue and the glide of their lips against each other is unbearably smooth. Hanbin takes a deep breath through his nose and thinks that he could keep kissing Matthew forever.
It can only be a few seconds at most but when they part ways Hanbin feels out of breath as if he's been kissing Matthew for hours without end.
His lips tingle faintly and he darts his tongue out to subconsciously soothe it. Hanbin thinks he could almost get used to this feeling.
Matthew's kisses are enticing. Matthew, even more so.
There's a distant yell across the club and Matthew looks over, his face falling for a moment before he turns back to Hanbin with his easy smile back in place.
“I have to go,” Matthew says, voice full of regret as he leans in to peck Hanbin on his lips again. “Come with me tonight. I'll meet you here in a while, okay sweetheart?”
His eyes are wide and pleading, lips spit slicked and shiny beneath the club lights. Hanbin would be a fool to deny him anything.
So he hums, thumbing at Matthew's lower lip and diving in to leave a light kiss on the mole standing stark against the side of his face. “Of course, pretty. I'll wait for you.”
Two birds; one stone.
Hanbin never has a feeding problem ever again.
After all, he has Matthew.