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The clock strikes two when Jongseong tiptoes out of his bedroom, half-asleep, but careful not to wake Jake up.

He’s rubbing his eyes, shuffling over to the kitchen for a glass of water when he notices that the lights in the kitchen are already on. He groans internally, wondering who didn’t bother to turn them off, but then he hears a voice.

“What’s wrong with the blood bags from the company?”

Heeseung.

Jongseong doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, especially not with vampire business; he decides to go back to his room, in fact, settling for the scratchy throat he’ll inevitably have in the morning over interrupting what seems like an important conversation, but then:

“There’s nothing wrong with them.”

Jungwon.

If Jungwon has secretly been having trouble with something as significant as nutrition, Jongseong can’t walk away in good conscience. As quietly as he can, he inches closer, hides himself around the corner, lays his palms flat against the wall, and rolls his cheek onto the cold surface.

It’s too cold out in the hallway. The hair on Jongseong’s arms sticks up, goosebumps raised. South Korea is going through a record-breaking heat wave, and vampires, even half ones, don’t do well in scorching temperatures. Jongseong, Jake, Sunghoon, and Sunoo had to be the ones to compromise.

“They taste the same as always. They’re just not enough.” Jungwon sounds frustrated, and Jongseong frowns.

“Do you need more blood?”

“It’s not that I need more. The blood just isn’t—” Jungwon cuts off, and the only noise left in the area is the humming of the air conditioner. Jongseong holds his breath. “I don’t know,” Jungwon continues, “I haven’t felt satiated at all this past week.”

“Oh!” Heeseung says with a snap of his fingers. “Have your fangs been throbbing?”

“Yeah, actually,” Jungwon responds. “I also haven’t been able to stomach human food that well lately. Jay-hyung treated me to sushi the other day, and I went to the bathroom and threw it all up after. I felt so bad.”

Jongseong’s stomach drops. So that’s why Jungwon disappeared and came back looking even paler than usual that day.

Before Jongseong can lament it even further, Heeseung hums knowingly, then says, “Vampire puberty.”

That’s a thing? Jongseong thinks, just as Jungwon says, “That’s a thing?”

“Yup,” Heeseung says. “It’s a weird half-vampire thing. It’s basically like—your body wants you to feed. From humans, not from bags.” Isn’t it all the same? Jongseong thinks. It’s all human blood, no matter how you look at it. “The vampire part of you is fighting with the human part of you. I went through it a few months before I-LAND.”

“I’ll ask my parents about it in the morning. What did you do?”

“I mean—I just dealt with it. It was rough for a summer, but the training we went through at BigHit was worse. It was honestly the least of my worries back then.”

Jungwon laughs. Jongseong has to stifle a laugh of his own too; the weeks before they were transferred to BeLift were the worst of it. Jongseong was seriously sure he was going to die, or at least suffer some sort of heart condition; their dance and vocal practices were doubled both in length and frequency, and the instructors hadn’t been any more kind to them despite the pressure they were put under.

“I’m not like you, hyung. I don’t know if I can just—deal with it.”

Lee Heeseung is a different sort of insane than the rest of them. When he wants something, he puts his entire self into it, whether it’s healthy or not.

“It might be worse for you, since you’re, like, vampire royalty.”

Jongseong knits his brows together.

Jungwon laughs. “Maybe.”

In Niki and Heeseung’s phones, Jungwon is saved as ‘Vampire Prince,’ and whenever Jongseong and the other humans ask why, the three of them just give each other knowing looks and smirks.

“Do you think increasing the volume would help?” Heeseung asks. “We could say that we, I don’t know, spilled some of the bags on the floor, and we need a new batch sent to us. Niki and I could give it all to you. We both have enough for the rest of the month.”

“I don’t want to lie to the company,” Jungwon mumbles, and Jongseong’s heart sings at how cute he is.

“I can lie for you,” Heeseung says with a short laugh. Jungwon doesn’t respond, and Jongseong guesses that he’s frowning, or glaring, or pouting—it doesn’t matter, because Jungwon’s upset faces are equally as cute as one another. He resists the urge to peer around the corner to get a look. He’ll just have to tease Jungwon a little extra in the morning to get his fix. “Fine, fine. How ‘bout this—I give you half of my rations for the rest of the week, and if the extra blood doesn’t fix anything, then…”

“Then?”

Heeseung sucks in a sharp breath. “I don’t know. We’ll just—we’ll just have to take it as it comes.”

Humans have always lived alongside vampires. That’s why Julius Caesar waged war against the Gauls; the Druids were pure-blooded vampires. Human beings were sacrificed not by the Druids to the gods, but to the Druids, whom the Gauls treated as gods. Alexander the Great and Genghis Khan succeeded in their military endeavors because their elite forces, their best warriors, had vampire blood in them. Joan of Arc was burned at the stake because she had been turned mid-battle.

Pure-blooded vampires are rare. They don’t age, they’re impervious to illness and wounds that would be fatal for humans, but that doesn’t mean they can’t die. To kill a pure-blooded vampire, you need to cut their head off, drive a stake through their heart, or burn their body to ash. Every civilization had a Dark Age at one point, or at many points, in which vampire hunters were all the rage. Humans weren’t concerned with societal or technological advances; the only focus of humanity was to exterminate the ones who posed a threat to their species. Those with vampire blood were not treated as outcasts; they were treated as the enemy. Human beings, haughty and inclined toward violence, could not stand the idea of not being at the top of the food chain.

In one aspect, humanity succeeded: in the modern age, pure-blooded vampires are mostly extinct due to the efforts of vampire hunters from the Dark Ages. It’s relatively easy to tell a pure-blooded vampire apart from a human; their eyes glow bright red, they grow weak in the sun, they don’t sleep, and they can’t consume human food. Only blood.

But to eradicate the vampire race was a more difficult task than humans realized.

Vampires are monsters, but even monsters are capable of love.

There are two ways for vampires to produce offspring:

1. If you die with pure-vampire blood in your system, you become a pure-blooded vampire also.
2. Two pure-blooded vampires cannot produce offspring together via traditional means, but if at least one partner has some human blood in them, a baby can be born with the genes from both parents.

The Salem Vampire Trials targeted anyone with vampire blood in them, but many innocent humans got caught in the crossfire; for the most part, partial-vampires are indistinguishable from regular humans; physically, the only things that differentiate them are the following: their body temperature is lower, their hearts beat slower, their senses are heightened, they respond to illness and injuries much better than regular humans, and they must consume small amounts of human blood on a daily basis.

To eradicate or even segregate the vampire race is not just a difficult task, but an impossible one.

Nowadays half-vampires aren’t rare; that’s why the war against the vampire species has come to a full stop in all countries. Really, anyone with vampire blood in them, whether it’s half, a quarter, an eighth, one-out-of-nine, two-out-of-eighty-seven, is considered a half-vampire. No matter how small or large, if you have any amount of vampire blood in your veins that is not fully one-hundred, you will always be considered half. Sure, there will always be prejudices against humanity’s former enemy, but humanity will find any reason they can to think of you as the other. Vampire blood is only one of many reasons.

A full week passes. Jongseong doesn’t forget about Jungwon’s problem, but he also doesn’t do anything about it.

He wasn’t supposed to hear that conversation in the first place, and it’s not like he knows, or even has a real idea of what Jungwon is going through. But he watches Jungwon closely, and he isn’t surprised to see that there aren’t any signs that he’s struggling. Jungwon has always been good at that, bearing his burdens alone, like Atlas bearing the weight of the world, and he does it all with a smile.

The real surprise is that Jungwon told Heeseung about his blood problem. Further, he had to have been the one to initiate the conversation, since Heeseung isn’t one for confrontation.

Just before 7 PM, Jongseong leaves his bedroom to look for Jungwon. They didn’t have schedules today, except for Sunghoon who’s emceeing at Music Bank, so Jongseong and Jake have been holed up in their room rewatching episodes of Vincenzo.

He finds Jungwon napping on the couch, curled up on his side, facing inward, pink lips slightly parted. He’s making these cute sleepy noises, and Jongseong has to resist the urge to take a photo of him.

Jongseong lowers himself onto his knees and lightly shakes Jungwon’s shoulders.

“Jungwonie,” Jongseong sings. “Jungwon-ah.”

“Mmrgh,” Jungwon groans, nasally and rough with sleep. He’s been napping a lot, lately.

“Niki, Sunoo, and Heeseung-hyung are coming back from the PC cafe soon. They’re bringing us dinner.”

Jungwon shuffles; he doesn’t sound happy. “Whatever. ‘m sleeping.”

“Wake up,” Jongseong says gently. He laughs when Jungwon smacks his hands away.

“No,” Jungwon mumbles.

“Yes.”

Jungwon rolls over onto his other side, now he’s facing Jongseong, and he peeks a single eye open. His face is all pinched and pink with sleep. Sleepy, grumpy Jungwon is the cutest thing that Jongseong has ever seen. “Nap with me.”

Jongseong is tempted by the prospect.

“Only if you promise to get up within the next five minutes.”

Jungwon reaches out for Jongseong’s wrist and yanks him up to the couch with an impossible amount of strength. Jongseong doesn’t ever think he’ll get used to how such a tiny person can muster up so much strength. Vampires are strange. Jongseong lands on the cushions with a soft thud, facing Jungwon, then Jungwon nestles his head in the crook of Jongseong’s shoulder. His hair tickles Jongseong’s jaw, and his cold breath brushes against Jongseong’s skin. Jungwon slides his arm around the dip above Jongseong’s hip, scoots closer, and presses his nose to Jongseong’s neck.

“You smell good,” Jungwon mumbles.

Jongseong swallows. “Yeah?”

“Sweet,” Jungwon mumbles sleepily, nosing languidly at Jongseong’s jaw.

Jongseong breathes, trembles, and tries not to think about how Jungwon likes the way he smells. “You didn’t eat much at lunch. Aren’t you hungry?”

Jungwon hums, and the noise rumbles against Jongseong’s skin. “I am.”

And there’s a moment where Jungwon’s lips drag against the ridged column of his neck, right where his throat is. They’re soft, and a little wet, maybe from Jungwon drooling in his sleep. Jongseong’s breath hitches, and his heart beats wildly in his ears. He wonders if Jungwon can hear his heart rabbiting in his chest. Jongseong can’t do this.

“C’mon, up,” he decides, grabbing Jungwon’s wrist to try to pry it off his waist. He doesn’t succeed.

“No,” Jungwon says, hooking his foot around Jongseong’s ankle when Jongseong tries to sit up, trapping him on the couch.

“Leader-nim,” Jongseong hums fondly. “Yang Leader-nim.”

“Yang Leader-nim is off-duty right now,” Jungwon utters, his mouth moving against Jongseong’s neck. It takes everything Jongseong has to not gasp. He needs to get off this couch, or at least far away enough that Jungwon’s lips won’t be gliding against his bare neck.

Getting a rise out of the younger is his only option, at this point.

“Maybe Heeseung-hyung should’ve been the leader,” Jongseong says.

Jungwon sits straight up and shrieks, “What?”

Jongseong rolls his eyes. He has to reposition himself so that he doesn’t fall off the couch. “Of course.”

“Take it back,” Jungwon says firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. His hair is disheveled, flat on the side he’d been sleeping on and sticking up on the other.

“You know I wasn’t serious,” Jongseong says. Heeseung is the worst of them when it comes to sleeping in and taking spontaneous naps that have him missing meals.

“Still. Take it back,” Jungwon repeats. If they were standing up, Jongseong doesn’t have a single doubt in his mind that Jungwon would stomp a foot down for emphasis.

Jongseong sighs, acquiescing. “Fine. Heeseung-hyung would have been a terrible leader. In fact, you’re the only one who could have led this group. You’re the best leader anyone could have asked for. You’re responsible, you stick up for us to the company, and you don’t back away from conflict.” And the more Jongseong goes on, the more he realizes the sincerity imbued into what he’s saying.

Jungwon’s eyes are wide. He looks like a baby deer in headlights. Jongseong would rather wreck his car than hurt Jungwon, but that’s beside the point.

“Hyung—”

Jongseong can’t stop. “You’re kind, but you always put your foot down when necessary. You support us, in your cute and doting ways, even if we don’t know it. You always try to do everything yourself, and that’s—it’s amazing. You’re amazing, but I wish you’d come to us more. You’re the first to notice if any of us are sick, or fighting. You’re always watching us, and you worry your head over what’s best to do in a situation, because it’s your job, and I know that, and I know you take it seriously, but—I’m here for you too. You can lean on me. I want you to lean on me.” He bites down on his lip. “You can lean on all of us. We—”

“Hey, lovebirds on the couch.” Jongseong’s head whips over to the front door. He hadn’t even heard it open. Heeseung is snickering at the two of them, and Niki is dramatically waving around a plastic bag of takeout. “We have food,” Niki goes on.

Jongseong blinks in horror, his brain finally catching up with his mouth.

Jungwon jumps off the couch with lightning speed, but even so, Jongseong catches the bright red hue of his ears.

“How was the PC cafe?” Jungwon asks. Cold noodles are spun around his chopsticks, hovering before his mouth.

Niki, chewing on a mouthful of noodles, says, half-unintelligibly, “Really good. You should come with us next time.”

Jungwon scrunches his nose, his skin still slightly oily from sleep. His cheeks are puffed up as he chews; unlike Niki, he waits until he’s swallowed to answer. “No thanks. I don’t like computer games.”

“It’s a waste of your computer.”

Heeseung nudges Niki’s arm with his shoulder. “As if you don’t use his computer all the time.”

Niki glares at Heeseung. “That’s because your computer lags.”

“I’ll buy a new one at some point.”

Sunoo laughs. “You said that last year.”

“I’m saving up for a really good one, okay?”

“Sure you are,” Niki hums, bringing more noodles to his mouth.

Jongseong looks at Jungwon, who’s listening to them bicker with a fond smile.

Once most of them have finished eating, Heeseung leans back into his seat, stretching. He looks at Niki and Jungwon. “I’m gonna get some blood. You guys want me to pour you some?”

“Ooooh,” Niki hums in excitement. Jongseong frowns at how Niki’s bowl looks just as full as it did five minutes ago. It’s crazy how much Niki’s grown despite eating so little. “Yes please.”

Jungwon bites his lip, not nearly as excited as Niki, but eventually says, “Yeah, that’d be nice. Thanks, hyung.”

After Heeseung leaves for the kitchen, Jake asks Niki and Sunoo if Heeseung has gotten any better at League, and both Niki and Sunoo burst out into laughter, recounting all of the bad plays that Heeseung made during the day.

“No, like, at some point, he just left top to go kill minions in mid,” Sunoo says. “Everyone was flaming him in the comments but he just said he was split-pushing.”

“Then in another game, he was playing support, and somehow during a team fight, he was in the jungle trying to solo drag. As a support. During a team fight,” Niki adds.

Jongseong has no idea what they’re talking about, but he assumes Heeseung has a tendency to commit in-game taboos. He laughs along, but notices that Jungwon’s been awfully quiet. He looks over at him, and sees that he’s pale and clutching at his seat, swaying slightly.

“Jungwon, are you okay?”

Then Jungwon abruptly stands up. The conversation at the table comes to a stop. “I’m fine,” he insists. “I just—bathroom, sorry.”

He runs off, a hand over his mouth, and Jongseong’s stomach churns with worry.

“You should check on him,” Sunoo says to Jongseong after a moment. Jake and Niki nod in agreement.

It’s then that Heeseung returns, two wine glasses with small servings of blood in each of his hands, the third balanced between his forearm and his chest. Jake brings him up to speed while Jongseong makes to follow Jungwon.

The toilet flushes as Jongseong enters the bathroom. Jungwon is splashing his mouth with water from the sink. Jongseong closes the door behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Jongseong asks, his eyes darting between Jungwon, the toilet, and the sink.

“Nothing,” Jungwon says, voice ragged, “I promise.” He unspools some toilet paper from the dispenser and wipes his mouth dry.

“Don’t lie,” Jongseong mutters, clenching his jaw. “Not to me.”

Jungwon sucks in a sharp breath through his nostrils and tosses the paper towels in the trash. He finally meets Jongseong’s gaze, tips his chin up, but he doesn’t speak. His face remains pale.

“Jungwon.”

No response.

“Jungwon,” Jongseong repeats. He steps forward slowly, as if he’s approaching a frightened animal, his voice soft and careful.

“Fine,” Jungwon hisses back, leaning against the edge of the sink. He squeezes his eyes shut, then toys with his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’ve been having trouble with human food. With the blood bags the company sends us too. I can’t keep any of it down.”

Jongseong doesn’t bother to act surprised. “The blood too?”

Jungwon shakes his head. “No, just food. The blood is fine. Heeseung-hyung has been giving me extra, but it’s not working. It’s—it’s not what I need.”

A long silence ensues. Jongseong is the one to break it. “What do you need?” he whispers.

Jungwon swallows. Jongseong watches as his throat bobs. “You know,” he starts, his chest rising with a trembling breath, “my mom did the math. I forgot the exact number, but I’m close to seventy percent vampire.”

Jongseong’s eyes widen. Most half-vampires nowadays have small amounts of vampire blood in them: single-digit percentages. The ageless, quasi-immortal pure-blooded vampires of days past are mostly extinct, and the process of turning into a pure-blooded vampire is barbaric; you not only have to drink pure-vampire blood, but you have to die with it in your system. Not many humans are willing to turn, and not many pure-bloods are willing to turn humans.

Jungwon has always been proud of being a half—well, more than half—vampire, but he’s always avoided talking about his lineage explicitly.

“That’s why Niki and Heeseung call you vampire royalty,” Jongseong whispers, realizing.

Jungwon nods. “There isn’t a real hierarchy with vampires, but anyone who’s more than half-vampire is considered royalty. It doesn’t really mean anything. It’s just a—thing.”

“Is there an actual difference?” Jongseong asks. “Between you and Niki and Heeseung-hyung?”

“Not really, but all half-vampires go through growing pains, my mom said,” Jungwon explains, biting his bottom lip. “Heeseung-hyung called it vampire puberty. My vampire part is rejecting the human part of me. Seventy-percent of me can’t help but want—I can’t help but need…”

“What do you need?” Jongseong repeats.

“You know what I need.”

Jongseong might not be able to understand what Jungwon’s going through, but he knows what he can do. “What if you…”

“What if I what?” Jungwon asks, his eyes growing dark. His fingers flex against the edge of the sinktop, knuckles white.

Jongseong doesn’t have to think about it. Silently, he rolls up his left sleeve. It’s enough of an answer that he doesn’t have to say it out loud. He offers his arm to Jungwon.

“Jongseong-hyung,” Jungwon whispers, staring at the smooth expanse of Jongseong’s wrist, his sleeve rolled up to his elbow. His eyes are blown-wide, dark, his pink tongue peeking out behind white teeth. “You can’t be serious.”

“I trust you,” is all that Jongseong says, but those three words cast countless shadows. I trust you not to hurt me. I trust you not to bleed me dry. I trust you with my life.

Jungwon shakes his head. “You don’t—that’s not—that’s not okay. We’re not supposed to do that.”

Jungwon is a rule-follower. He lives by the rules, sees purpose in them, understands them. Violating a rule is like violating a tenet of life, for Yang Jungwon. Half-vampires have a steady feed of blood bags supplied to them, as per law; moreover, BeLift ensures that they receive the highest quality blood on the market. Vampires do not need to feed from humans, therefore they shouldn’t. Niki, Heeseung, and Jungwon had separate clauses in their debut contracts to make sure that the four humans in the group wouldn’t be put in danger.

“We don’t have to tell anyone.”

“That’s not—that’s not the problem,” Jungwon snaps, but he licks his lips, eyes trained on Jongseong’s bare wrist.

“I’m offering. I’m willing,” Jongseong says.

“Why?” Jungwon chokes out.

“Because—” Jongseong cuts himself off. There’s a lot of reasons why. Too many to name.

Jongseong was serious when he said he’d break The Egg during I-LAND if Jungwon was eliminated. The things he’d do, the miles he’d go for Jungwon—it frightens him too, but he welcomes the thrill.

He settles for, “Because you shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

Jongseong sees it all in slow motion: Jungwon’s hands ball into tight fists. His chest heaves. His tongue swipes over his mouth. His fangs poke out. He releases his death-grip on the sinktop, lifts a foot off the ground, moves toward Jongseong.

Then there’s a knock at the door. Jungwon startles like he’s just come back to his senses, his eyes wide and terrified. He suddenly changes direction and sprints out of the bathroom, his shoulder shoving into Sunoo and almost knocking him over.

Sunoo’s mouth hangs open. He looks at Jongseong in confusion. “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Jongseong mutters, blinking. “I really don’t know.”

Before coming to BigHit, Jongseong had never met many half-vampires, at least that he was aware of.

There were a couple halfies in his classes, both in the US and in Korea, but even though the war against vampires has ended, resentment lingers. Vampires tend to stick with vampires, especially when they’re children. Jongseong never got close to any of them.

Training at BigHit, you didn’t have the luxury of letting blood decide your friendships. There were too many dropouts, too many transfers; what decided who stayed and went was not blood, but talent and effort.

Lee Heeseung was the first vampire Jongseong befriended, but he didn’t know it until more than three years into their friendship. Even though there were a handful of other vampire trainees, Heeseung did everything he could to hide his half-vampire status, and he did it well. Jongseong surmises that, for the longest time, Heeseung was ashamed of it. Then I-LAND came, and Heeseung was required to reveal his status, much to the shock of everyone he trained with at BigHit. After they debuted, something started to change; with time, or maybe with something else, Heeseung came to accept himself for who he was. Jongseong is happy for him, but at the same time, he mourns the fact that he wasn’t able to help.

There were others: Choi Beomgyu and Choi Yeonjun, for example, but they were already confirmed for the debut lineup and only trained with Kang Taehyun, Choi Soobin, Huening Kai, and, on occasion, Lee Heeseung.

Aside from Heeseung, the first half-vampire Jongseong got close to was Yang Jungwon.

It was Jungwon’s first day practicing with the other trainees. Jungwon walked into the dance practice room that day, casually sucking on a blood bag.

Jongseong had met him the day before, when the new batch of trainees all introduced themselves, but none of them had said anything about their status; Jongseong had foolishly assumed that they were all humans.

As soon as he walked in, drinking from a blood bag as if it were something as innocuous as a juice box, everyone in the room startled; Jongseong and Sunghoon were stretching by the mirrors when Sunghoon froze and sucked in a breath. He patted Jongseong’s knee and gestured for him to turn around, look at the door. Jongseong still remembers the way that Heeseung tripped over his own feet in shock.

Half-vampires aren’t rare, but that doesn’t mean it’s normal to flaunt it.

Jungwon didn’t seem to mind the eyes. He walked over to an empty corner and put down all his things, carefully sliding his blood bag into one of the side pockets, unbothered by the slack jaws and wide eyes that followed each of his movements.

“Maybe the culture’s different at SM,” Sunghoon mumbled. Jongseong didn’t respond.

The dance instructor arrived a few moments later, and the new trainee sipping on a blood bag was the last thing on anyone’s mind. Well, except for Jongseong. At the end of practice, sweaty and exhausted, but also teeming with curiosity, he walked over to Jungwon, who was panting and leaning forward with both his hands on his knees, and asked, “So, you’re a vampire?”

Jungwon looked up. His forehead was matted with damp black hair, but his eyes were unusually bright. He straightened himself.

“Half,” Jungwon said, eyes narrowing as he met Jongseong’s gaze. He looked Jongseong up and down, face pinching. “Why?” he asked, smiling wide enough that his fangs peeked out from between his lips. “Are you scared, Jongseong-ssi?”

All the trainees were looking at them. Jongseong felt his mouth twitch. Fear was the last thing he felt.

“Call me hyung.”

Jungwon trades rooms with Heeseung for the night, locks himself in. When Jongseong asks Heeseung if Jungwon’s okay, Heeseung shakes his head, tells him that he should let it go.

But when it comes to Jungwon, Jongseong has never quite been able to see straight.

Jongseong hovers around the common space, biting at his nails, constantly glancing at Heeseung’s door, waiting for Jungwon to come out. Sunghoon comes back late into the night and joins Jongseong on the couch for a short while as he eats the leftovers from dinner, but soon goes to wash up, exhausted from recording the whole day.

Half past midnight, Heeseung’s door opens up. Jungwon shuffles out, wearing Heeseung’s pajamas. The sweatpants are too long on him, rolled up at the bottom, and the shirt comes down to his mid-thighs.

When he meets eyes with Jongseong, he gasps. “Hyung, why are you still up?”

Jongseong goes out into the hall. “I was worried about you.”

The younger chews on the inside of his cheek for a long moment, looking into Jongseong’s eyes.

“Were you serious, earlier?”

“Entirely.”

Jungwon frowns. “You can’t—this is something I have to deal with on my own. I can’t—I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to ask,” Jongseong says. His sleeve is still rolled up. “I’m offering.”

Jungwon looks around. There isn’t anyone in the hall, but still, he says, “I don’t want to talk about this here.” He walks back into Heeseung’s room. Jongseong follows and locks the door behind him. Jungwon sits on the bed, places his hands on thighs, face tight.

“You need blood, right? Fresh blood?” Jongseong asks.

Jungwon closes his eyes, head bowed. “Yes, I do, but—” he trails off and swallows. Jongseong waits for him to continue. Jungwon lifts his head, opens his eyes. “But it can’t be you.”

Jongseong’s heart drops to his stomach. “Why not?”

He doesn’t want it to be anyone else.

Jungwon looks like he’s in pain. His hands close over his knees. “Don’t do this to me, hyung. You’re too important to me.”

“You’re important to me too,” Jongseong says. “That’s why I’m—”

“You don’t get it,” Jungwon snaps. “I don’t—I can’t—”

Jongseong walks over to the bed and sits beside Jungwon. He places his hands over Jungwon’s, thumbs circles along Jungwon’s cold knuckles. “It’s been hard, hasn’t it?”

Jungwon nods, squeezes his eyes shut again; he opens up his mouth and tries to speak, but he just ends up choking back a sob. Jongseong’s heart hurts. “You don’t even know, hyung. I can’t eat because I just throw it all up. I’ve been sleeping so much during the day because I’m up all night thinking about…” he cuts himself off again.

“I can help,” Jongseong says when Jungwon doesn’t go on, clutching Jungwon’s hands. Jungwon weakly lets Jongseong lace their fingers together. “I want to help.”

“I know you do,” Jungwon says quietly. “But you can’t. Rules are rules for a reason. It’s not right.”

“Why does it have to be right?”

Jungwon laughs, but there’s no joy to it.

“I’ll take the blame, if anyone finds out.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“I’ll try my hardest to make it work,” Jongseong insists. He releases Jungwon’s hands and brings one up to cup Jungwon’s cheek. Jungwon turns toward him, his cheek cold against Jungwon’s palm.

“I’m not afraid of getting in trouble,” Jungwon mutters. Jongseong looks at his pink mouth. “I’m afraid of…”

“What are you afraid of?”

Jungwon drops his head, staring at his feet. Jongseong brings his hand back to his lap. It soon becomes clear that Jungwon’s not going to answer.

So Jongseong lifts his left hand, stretches his wrist up to Jungwon’s mouth. An offer. A proposition.

Jungwon stares at the strip of skin, his lips parting, his fangs looming. “Hyung…”

“If it’s what you need…”

“You know it’s what I need,” Jungwon mutters. “You know I want it.”

“Then go ahead.”

Jungwon’s throat bobs, sweat beading down his neck. “I’ll be careful,” he whispers, his dark eyes fixed on Jongseong’s forearm, his lips parting.

“You’ll be careful,” Jongseong repeats.

Jungwon inches closer, until his mouth brushes Jongseong’s skin. “Just this once.”

“Just this once,” Jongseong echoes, even if he’s willing to do this for the rest of his life.

“Only a little,” Jungwon mumbles, baring his fangs.

“Take as much as you need,” Jongseong says, and Jungwon bites down. His eyes flutter shut.

It’s a sharp, intense pain, but only at first. Once Jungwon breaks skin, he closes his soft lips around the wound and begins to suckle. Jongseong hisses at the dull ache, but more so, the pressure of Jungwon’s mouth on his forearm: insistent, pushy, desperate. Hungry. Jungwon moans sweetly. He gets up onto his knees, slips his feet under his butt, pushes forward, grabbing Jongseong’s forearm with both his hands, squeezing so hard it almost hurts more than his mouth. Jongseong hooks his free arm around Jungwon’s waist and pulls him closer, repositions them until Jungwon’s back is to Jongseong’s chest, and his head is tucked just under Jongseong’s chin. He’s sitting between Jongseong’s thighs, and he’s half-falling off the mattress, socked feet gripping at the edge of the frame, so Jongseong musters up all the strength he can to tug them both further onto the bed. Jungwon gasps at the movement, but doesn’t unlatch his mouth or his fingers from Jongseong’s arm, lips wet and plush, fangs grazing Jongseong’s skin, but they don’t bite down again. Jongseong tips his head back, panting. It hurts; it’s a good sort of pain.

He strokes Jungwon’s hair, mutters praises. Jungwon makes needy, pleased noises at each.

Jongseong doesn’t know how much time passes, or how much blood he’s lost, at that, before Jungwon pulls back with a wet smack. He dives down once more to mouth over the bite-wound, then draws in a shaky breath, slowly turning around.

His mouth is stained with blood, Jongseong’s blood. He releases his grip on Jongseong’s arm, and it falls to his side.

Jongseong is dizzy, and Jungwon looks at him dazed, eyes foggy. Jungwon licks the blood off his mouth, but there’s still red smeared by the corners. Jongseong resists the urge to wipe it off with his finger, or maybe his mouth.

“Thank you,” Jungwon says, voice rough, panting, looking up at Jongseong from between his thighs. He brings his hands to his lap, looking demure. He’s cute as always.

Jongseong nods, lacking a response, heart rabbiting.

“My saliva—vampire saliva heals wounds,” Jungwon says, swiping his tongue over his bloody fangs. “The wound should be gone by the morning.”

Jongseong nods again. “Cool,” he says lamely.

They stare at each other wordlessly. Jungwon wipes his mouth, smudging the back of his hand red, but doesn’t look away from Jongseong.

“You should—drink water. Fluids,” he says.

“I will,” Jongseong replies, but he doesn’t move. Neither does Jungwon. Jongseong can’t help but ask, “Did it help?”

Jungwon inhales. His cheeks are flushed, and his forehead is sweaty. “A lot. It helped a lot. I haven’t—I felt this good in a long time,” he says with a smile, his eyes bright. He looks good, too.

Jongseong preens, his head buzzing. “I’m happy.”

“Promise me you’ll drink a lot of water. Not soda, water.”

Jongseong chuckles. “I promise.”

“It’s late,” Jungwon says softly.

Jongseong looks at the clock on the bedside table. It’s almost one. “It is.”

“We have to be up at six for Knowing Bros.”

“I know,” Jongseong says. His eyes zone back in on Jungwon’s mouth; it’s swollen and red. Jongseong’s arm throbs, and he can’t stop thinking about how, just moments ago, he had that mouth on him; how, just moments ago, Jungwon was moaning sweetly into his wrist.

After a beat, Jungwon says, “We should sleep.”

“We should,” Jongseong replies, but he’s reluctant to leave.

“I’ll see you in the morning?” Jungwon asks, and he slinks off the bed, standing up.

Jongseong swallows, then nods. He gets up as well, and finds that his knees are wobbly. “Yeah.”

He makes his way to the door, heart thrumming. He turns around and looks back at Jungwon, who’s still standing by the bed, watching Jongseong.

“Goodnight, Jungwonie.”

Jungwon grins at him. He looks content, and that’s all that matters. “Goodnight, hyung.”

Blood sharing is an intimate thing; you don’t have to be a vampire to know that. Whether it’s between a vampire and a human, or between two vampires, it’s an unspoken taboo.

Jongseong doesn’t tell the others, and neither does Jungwon.

The day after, at Knowing Bros, they get a thirty minute break. Some head outside for fresh air, others to the dressing room. Jongseong takes the elevator down to the first floor to grab a cold soda from the vending machine then makes his way back up. In the dressing room, he spots Niki and Heeseung sitting on the couch. Niki’s feet are tucked under his butt, holding his phone horizontally in his lap. Heeseung is leaning over into his space, watching.

Jungwon is by the mirrors, sipping on a blood bag as his hair is touched up by a stylist, scrolling through Twitter with his other hand.

Jongseong takes the seat next to him. When the stylist finishes with Jungwon’s hair and exits the room, Jongseong places a hand on Jungwon’s thigh and asks, “Are you doing okay?”

Jungwon nods.

“Do you need…?”

Jungwon pulls the blood bag from his lips. “I’m okay. Thank you for last night. It helped a lot.”

“If you ever need to again—”

Jungwon shakes his head. “It was a one time thing, hyung.”

Jongseong knits his brows together. “But is one time enough?”

Jungwon doesn’t respond. Jongseong sighs and goes to join Niki and Heeseung on the couch.

Back at I-LAND, Jongseong asked Heeseung about it once: blood sharing.

It was late, but neither of them could sleep, nervous for the upcoming test.

They sat side to side on Heeseung’s bed, their backs to the wall. He only found out that Heeseung was a half-vampire that summer. Heeseung never talked about it, even after the truth came out. Whenever Jungwon was drinking blood in front of him, or whenever the topic of half-vampirism came up among the trainees, he looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to run away. Jongseong always tried to respect Heeseung’s reluctance to talk about it; he obviously had his reasons, and Jongseong had a feeling they ran a lot deeper than internalized vampirephobia.

Still, he couldn’t help but ask, quietly, so as to not wake up Sunoo, “Have you ever fed from a human?”

The soft lamp light made Heeseung’s cheek look warmer than it was. He looked down at their legs and chewed on the inside of his mouth. “I haven’t. I don’t think it’s wrong, or anything, you know, as long as both parties are willing, but it’s—it’s kind of scary, the thought of it. At least to me.”

“What’s scary about it? To a vampire, I mean.”

Heeseung shrugged. “A lot of things,” he said, and that was all Jongseong would get.

In the days following the blood sharing, Jungwon stops napping during the day, starts sleeping through the night; he doesn’t sprint off to the bathroom after meals anymore.

Things are good. Their days are packed with variety shows, YouTube interviews, and recordings for their next album.

But then they go into the woods for a jacket shooting, their comeback concept something like magical flower boys, and Jake trips and slices his bare foot on a rock.

The medic on duty wraps his foot up and deems that he’ll be out of commission for a day or two. From what Jongseong saw, the cut itself isn’t terrible. Jake smiles throughout the whole process, constantly assuring everyone that the pain isn’t too bad.

Jake goes back early with Heeseung and Niki, his partners for the unit shoot. The rest of them finish up their photos, while Jake, Heeseung, and Niki have to return in the early morning to reshoot.

Jongseong doesn’t notice it until the car ride back.

Jungwon is quiet. Even though the moon and stars aren’t visible, the nightsky is bright and cloud-filled. The interior of the car is illuminated enough that Jongseong can see how pale Jungwon’s face is.

In all of the chaos, Jongseong hadn’t really thought to check in on Jungwon.

“You good?”

Jungwon doesn’t look at him, but he nods slightly.

“You did great today, at the shoot,” Jongseong hums. Jungwon had been the one to get the medic, and he even helped lift Jake onto the stretcher. He did great during his photoshoots, too, but that’s nothing new.

Jungwon doesn’t respond. Jongseong doesn’t try to carry the conversation any further.

Later that same night, in a startling role reversal, Jongseong opens the door, intending to grab a snack from the pantry, and finds Jungwon sitting outside his room, waiting.

Jungwon stands up. He’s biting down on his bottom lip, and his hair is damp from his shower.

“Hey,” Jongseong says. Jungwon reaches out to grab Jongseong’s sleeve. Jongseong smiles; Jungwon is adorable. “Yes, Jungwonie?”

“Can we…”

Jongseong’s eyes soften. Jungwon is still chewing on his lip.

“Bathroom,” Jongseong says. “Jake’s asleep.” Jungwon nods, holding onto Jongseong’s sleeve as they head to the bathroom.

Jungwon quietly closes and locks the door behind them, finally letting go. The bright bathroom lights are harsh on Jongseong’s eyes.

“I was doing fine for a couple days,” Jungwon mutters, his face tight with something like shame, “but then… the hunger pangs got worse. And then after what happened with Jake…”

Jongseong’s lips part in realization. “It was a lot of blood, wasn’t it?”

Jungwon swallows. “Yeah. It was a lot. I haven’t—it’s all I can think about.”

“I meant it,” Jongseong says. “If you ever need it, just tell me.”

Jungwon lowers his head, smiling to himself. His hair is starting to get long again, falling over his eyes and framing the side of his face. He’s beautiful, but that, also, is nothing new. “I don’t get it, hyung. Why you’re so—willing to do this.”

It’s not a question, but Jongseong answers it anyway. “Because I’m me,” he says. Because it’s you, he doesn’t say.

Jungwon laughs. “Yeah, okay.”

Jongseong rolls up his left sleeve. His bite-wound was fully healed when he woke up the morning after, just like Jungwon promised.

“Just this once,” Jungwon says, inhaling deeply. He takes a step closer, angles his head back slightly to meet Jongseong’s gaze.

“Just this once.” Jongseong mutters, licking his lips. When Jungwon bites down this time, Jongseong’s breath hitches at the familiarity of it. Jungwon’s fangs piercing his arm, sharp nails digging half-moons into the skin around the bite. Just like last time, Jongseong pulls Jungwon into his chest, and Jungwon responds beautifully. They lose balance, tripping backward. Jungwon holds onto Jongseong’s arm like a lifeline as they knock into the nearest wall. Jongseong tries to keep them upright, but it’s hard, and he’s starting to get dizzy, so they slide down until Jongseong falls to the ground with a thud. Jungwon goes down with him, but he doesn’t seem to care, doesn’t even really seem to notice how he’s sitting on top of Jongseong, his legs tangled with Jongseong’s.

There’s motion to it, more than last time. Jungwon is rocking back and forth on Jongseong’s thigh, so Jongseong tries to steady him, snakes an arm around Jungwon’s chest and pulls him back. It backfires, because Jungwon slinks down until he’s sitting on the cold bathroom tile, between Jongseong’s thighs like the time before, but unlike the time before, he’s pressing back, pressing Jongseong into the wall, and there isn’t a single inch of space left between them.

“As much as you need,” Jongseong croaks out as Jungwon practically writhes in his lap. Jungwon, Yang Jungwon, Jongseong’s Jungwon.

Jungwon drinks more blood this time. Jongseong knows this because, when he unlatches his fangs from Jongseong’s arm, slides his hot tongue over the wound, and turns around, there’s blood dripping down his chin. His teeth are pink, his eyes dark, pupils blown. His thighs are closed around Jongseong’s hips, knees on the tile, and he’s looking down at Jongseong.

“There’s blood all over your mouth,” Jongseong whispers. The bite-wound throbs painfully, and his left arm is tingly all over, but the pain is the last thing on his mind.

Jungwon blinks, then licks his lips, a delayed response. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of Jongseong’s this whole time.

There’s still drips of blood on his chin.

“Here, I’ll just…” Jongseong says, feeling dazed, unable to stop himself. He cups the side of Jungwon’s throat with his hand, and Jungwon instinctually presses into his palm. Jongseong feels his heart beat in his ears more than he hears it. He swipes the blood off of Jungwon’s chin, intending to wipe it off with toilet paper or wash it off in the sink, but those plans fall to the wayside when Jungwon’s pretty mouth closes over his thumb, his tongue circling over the digit as he sucks the blood off. Jongseong’s breath is ragged. He pulls his thumb out, and Jungwon whines, grinds forward, lips chasing Jongseong’s hand.

Jongseong doesn’t know what comes over him, but it’s not something pretty. He slides his other hand up along the base of Jungwon’s skull, drags his nails along his scalp, grabs a handful of hair, and yanks him backward until he stops trying to get Jongseong’s thumb in his mouth. Stops fighting.

“Be good,” Jongseong warns.

Jungwon whimpers and bares his fangs. His head tips back, and like this, Jongseong can finish cleaning him up. He wipes the rest of the blood off with three of his fingers. Jungwon visibly swallows, his eyes fixated on the blood pooled on Jongseong’s fingers, but with the hand twisting his hair and forcing him still, he can’t get them in his mouth like he wants. He has to wait.

Jongseong doesn’t give it to him immediately; he takes the moment to really look at Jungwon, to burn this image into memory. He’s a sight: panting, squirming on Jongseong’s lap, cheeks flushed, pink lips parted, tongue slightly stuck out. He looks like he’s about to cry.

Jongseong’s heart pounds.

He places his fingers just before Jungwon’s lips, but doesn’t let go of his grip on his hair, just to tease. Nevertheless, Jongseong is Jongseong; he doesn’t have the heart to be too mean to Jungwon, after all, so after a short moment, he presses the tips of his fingers to Jungwon’s plush, waiting mouth and slips them between his lips. He releases his other hand, and Jungwon swoops down, sucking hard and wetly on Jongseong’s fingers, until all the blood is gone.

Jongseong’s fingers pop out, and there’s a line of spit connecting them and Jungwon’s lips. Jongseong already misses the feeling, but he settles for thumbing at the corners of Jungwon’s swollen mouth.

“Clean?” Jungwon asks, breath heaving.

Jongseong nods. “Clean,” he affirms, even though he feels anything but.

It also happens a third, and a fourth time.

After the third time, Jongseong runs away and jerks off in the bathroom, which he would have done the second time, if they weren’t already in the bathroom. He simply had to will his erection away. Thinking of dead puppies worked. Thinking about how Sunghoon would laugh at him if he ever found out worked even better.

After the fourth time, Jongseong almost passes out. He doesn’t say anything. Jungwon needs it, and he’s doing better: he’s eating, he’s sleeping, and he’s filled with energy during the day.

Summer turns into fall. They space it out, make sure not to do it more than once a week.

Essentially, Jongseong is Jungwon’s willing blood bag every now and then. That’s all there is to it.

The fifth time, they’re alone in the dorm. Jongseong and Jungwon went clothes shopping in Hongdae and got back early. The other five members are still at the grocery store.

Jongseong is lying on the couch, reading a news article on his phone when Jungwon approaches him. He flops right on top of Jongseong, and Jongseong groans at the added weight, but welcomes it.

“Yes, Jungwonie?” Jongseong asks, putting his phone down.

Jungwon’s knee is placed between Jongseong’s legs, his head resting on Jongseong’s chest. He reangles his head so that his chin is on Jongseong’s sternum.

“Can I feed?” he asks cutely. “Please?”

Jongseong twirls a lock of Jungwon’s hair around his finger, then tucks it behind his ear. “Here?”

They’re getting careless: the last time, they did it, rather stupidly, in Jungwon’s shared room with Niki, Sunoo, and Sunghoon, and they realized only after the fact that they forgot to lock the door. They were lucky no one decided to come in.

“I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Heeseung said that he’d text when they were heading back, and Jongseong still hasn’t heard from him, so they have time before the other members get here.

Jongseong decides that it’s fine. He sits up and scoots back until his back meets the arm of the couch. Jungwon follows, his hands neat on his thighs, waiting for Jongseong to finish folding his sleeve up.

This time is a little different. Usually Jungwon keeps his back to Jongseong’s chest. This time however, Jungwon takes Jongseong’s arm and continues to face him. His fangs dig into Jongseong’s arm, but he doesn’t close his eyes. Keeps his gaze on Jongseong. The angle somehow does him well. He’s so pretty it’s terrifying.

Jongseong is breathless and lightheaded by the time Jungwon lifts off; he’s pretty sure that only half of it is because of the blood loss.

“Messy,” Jongseong says, cupping Jungwon’s soft cheek, thumbing the blood from his mouth, feeding it back into Jungwon’s slack mouth.

Jungwon pulls back with a giggle. He’s so sweet, and he’s so good. “Is there any more?”

Jungwon is the prettiest right after he’s fed, Jongseong has learned. Jungwon has always been pretty; and he’s grown into his beauty more recently, but in the moments just after he’s finished drinking, he has this dazed, lost look in his eyes, pupils wide and blown, dark, full cheeks splotched with pink. Like there isn’t a single thought in his head, and it makes Jongseong glow with pride to know that he alone has made Jungwon feel that good.

Jongseong loves him. He loves him in a different way than he loves Heeseung, or Sunghoon or Jake, or either of his other dongsaengs.

If there’s one thing you can be sure of about Park Jongseong, it’s that he loves Yang Jungwon.

“Yeah,” Jongseong says, looking at the blood smeared on Jungwon’s lower lip. “Just a spot.”

Jungwon scrunches his face up. “Where?” he asks, dabbing a finger around his mouth.

Jongseong swallows. “Right here,” he answers, then dives forward to kiss him, swiping his tongue along Jungwon’s bottom lip between the motions, licking away the blood.

“Oh,” Jungwon gasps, parting his lips in surprise, making it easy for Jongseong to slip his tongue inside. He moves his lips in tandem with Jongseong’s, lets the older decide the pace. Slow, careful. Jongseong doesn’t want to break Jungwon. Or, well, maybe he does.

As hard as he’s trying, Jungwon doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing: his mouth is hesitant, the angle is awkward, and his teeth have knocked into Jongseong’s a couple times.

Jongseong has a feeling that Jungwon has never kissed anyone before. His heart races at the thought of having stolen Jungwon’s first kiss. It has to have been him. He doesn’t know what he’d do if someone got there before him.

Still, it’s wonderful. Jungwon will always be wonderful.

Jongseong places both his hands on Jungwon’s waist, and Jungwon climbs into his lap, still pressing his mouth into Jongseong’s. He’s getting the hang of it, but he breaks the kiss every now and then to pull back, catch his breath. One day, he’ll learn to breathe through his nose, learn how to not bump noses. He has all the time to learn how to kiss someone properly, and Jongseong wants to teach him. For now, though, Jongseong will treasure the awkward kisses; Jungwon is a natural at nearly everything. There isn’t a doubt in Jongseong’s mind that he’ll only get better with practice.

Jungwon cups Jongseong’s cheeks with his hands, and Jongseong squeezes around Jungwon’s waist. It’s then that Jungwon starts making these breathy noises, exhaling soft whimpers into Jongseong’s mouth. He starts to swivel his hips, grinds down against Jongseong’s crotch. Jongseong is hard. He’s been hard ever since Jungwon took his thumb into his hot mouth and started to suck.

“Hyung,” Jungwon chokes out, pulling back to breathe. He rests his forehead on Jongseong’s, and spit connects their lips. Jongseong glances down and sees a tent in Jungwon’s sweatpants.

Jongseong is probably—no, he’s definitely going to come in his pants. And who could blame him? He has a pretty boy grinding down on his lap, a pretty boy he loves, and who he’s pretty sure loves him too.

Jongseong moves Jungwon’s hips for him, encouraging him to keep going. The pressure, the movement, it’s all lovely. Jungwon is lovely.

When Jungwon swoops back down to rejoin their lips, he misses, and it’s adorable, but then he mouths at Jongseong’s cheek, then slides his soft mouth down to Jongseong’s jaw, starting to drag wet, sloppy, bruising kisses down the side of his throat. Jongseong groans.

“Hyung,” Jungwon repeats, frotting frantically, no rhythm to it. He’s so cute. His voice is rough, his lips are kiss-slick, and his breath is warm. His mouth latches onto the base of Jongseong’s shoulder.

Jongseong can feel his fangs. He jolts, and he isn’t sure if it’s out of fear or excitement. The lines start to blur, at a point.

“Can I?” Jungwon asks, grazing them up Jongseong’s throat, then back down to his shoulder.

“Mmh,” Jongseong says, even before he thinks about it. He smooths his hand along Jungwon’s back and adds, “Take what you need.”

Jungwon bears his fangs down. Jongseong shouts. It’s the worst pain he’s ever experienced. He freezes, can’t move. Tries to endure the pain. While Jungwon’s bites usually hurt in a good way, this one is bad.

Quite bad.

“Jungwon, Jungwon, stop—it hurts, shit—”

“Tastes so good, hyung,” Jungwon moans, fangs still dug into Jongseong’s flesh. He shoves Jongseong into the couch with terrifying strength. Jongseong’s eyes fall shut, body going limp. The last time they did this, Jongseong was on the verge of passing out by the end of it, but Jungwon had stopped himself in time. Jongseong isn’t sure if Jungwon can stop himself this time.

At this moment, Jongseong remembers something important: Yang Jungwon is more vampire than he is human.

Vaguely, Jongseong hears the front door opening. He remembers where they are. On the couch. In the common space of their dorm.

The members.

“Jungwon—hey—get off him—” Heeseung yells, and Jongseong opens his eyes, lolls his head to the side to look at the door. Everyone but Heeseung is frozen, faces white with shock. Sunoo lets go of the bags he was holding. Jake and Sunghoon look like they’re about to throw up. Niki is shaking. Heeseung runs over to the couch.

Jungwon keeps drinking from his neck, and the pain is starting to taper off. Jongseong doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.

“Hyung,” Jongseong mumbles weakly. He struggles to keep his eyes open, gaze going out of focus. His entire body is numb.

“Jungwon,” Heeseung hisses, and Jongseong thinks that he’s trying to pull Jungwon off. Jungwon holds onto him tighter, his mouth increasingly insistent on his neck. They’re both jostled around. Jongseong feels like a ragdoll. He can’t feel his fingertips. “Jungwon—fuck, you’re going to kill him—get off. Hey, Jungwon.”

Jongseong’s vision is filled with spots, edges starting to fade away, but he sees that the other four have finally moved from the door. Niki helps Heeseung yank Jungwon off. He shoves him off the couch, tackles him. Jongseong sucks in a trembling breath, eyes now shut. His wound feels sticky more than it hurts. None of it hurts anymore. Someone presses something to his neck.

“Jongseong-ah. Stay with us.”

Voices overlap. Jongseong can’t follow.

“He’s lost so much blood.” Sunghoon, Jongseong thinks.

“Should we take him to the hospital? Call an ambulance?” Sunoo, maybe.

“Jungwon, Jungwon, hey—”

Jungwon? Is Jungwon okay?

Jongseong opens his eyes, just barely, to try and find Jungwon, but his field of vision is too narrow. He can only see Sunghoon frantically pressing his sleeve to his neck.

He tries to say Jungwon’s name instead, but all that comes out is a weak whimper.

Jongseong starts to fade in and out of consciousness.

“Jungwon… looks like… in shock.” Heeseung. He sounds out of breath.

“…fuck, what do we…”

“The wound won’t…” Jake? Or maybe Sunghoon. Jongseong can’t be sure.

“His arm too…”

“Heeseung-hyung—you should—I can’t—” Niki, definitely. His voice is strained.

“Yeah, I know. I got it.”

“Wait, what is hyung…”

“…it’ll stop the…”

“Be careful.”

Jongseong registers a weight on top of him, but he can barely feel it. He can barely feel anything.

“Of course.”

Jongseong hears a movement, then a clatter, then the sound of someone being shoved into the wall. A struggle.

“Jungwon-hyung, stop—”

“Hyung is mine.”

“Heeseung-hyung is just trying to…”

Someone’s mouth closes over the side of Jongseong’s neck, a tongue sliding over his wound, then it all goes black.

“Are you scared, Jongseong-ssi?”

Maybe Jongseong should have been.

When Jongseong comes to, the first thing he says is, “Fuck. I’m alive.”

“You’re dead if the company finds out what happened,” Jongseong hears. He looks over to the side and winces. Heeseung has pulled up a chair to the bed and is passing Jongseong a water bottle with a straw already in it. “Jungwon too,” he says.

Jongseong, sitting up against the wall, legs tucked under the covers, takes the water bottle and drinks. He quickly surveys his surroundings: they’re in Heeseung’s room. “The company doesn’t know?”

“I told them that you and Jungwon got food poisoning,” Heeseung explains. “And that Sunghoon broke his toe. And that Niki and Jake caught a virus. It took a lot of lying, but our schedules are cancelled for the next couple days. You’re welcome, by the way.”

And all that’s great, but there’s only one thing on Jongseong’s mind. “Where’s Jungwon?”

Heeseung doesn’t look pleased at that question. “His parents’ house.”

“When is he coming back?”

“Next week. Our comeback is getting pushed back.”

Jongseong wants to apologize, but he doesn’t think saying sorry will do anyone any good.

“How long was I out?” he asks.

“A couple hours.”

Jongseong’s neck is throbbing. He goes to touch the wound and flinches. It hurts like a bitch. “Ouch.”

“It’s healing, don’t worry,” Heeseung says. “Just don’t touch it. There’s a lot of vampire saliva on it.”

Jongseong narrows his eyes, somewhat remembering his last few moments before he passed out. “Did you, by any chance…”

Heeseung flushes, avoids eye contact. “I didn’t—drain you any more. I just—”

Jongseong bursts out into snickers. “Licked me?”

“Shut up,” Heeseung mutters, now glaring. “Would you rather have gone to the hospital?”

Jongseong mumbles out a quiet thank you and sips more water. They fall into silence. Jongseong looks down at his arm; the bite-wound is still there, closing up rapidly, but so are the half-moon bruises from Jungwon’s fingernails. When he glances over at Heeseung, he sees that Heeseung is still looking at him. His face is tight, mouth pursed. Jongseong knows Heeseung too well; after all, he’s spent more than six years decoding most of Heeseung’s facial expressions, and he thinks he’s done a pretty good job of it.

He knows what that look means.

“Spit it out,” he says.

Heeseung inhales a long breath. “I don’t understand how it happened.”

Jongseong bites his lip. There’s no use trying to hide the truth, so he starts at the beginning. “You know how Jungwon’s been having trouble with his blood bags lately?”

Heeseung’s eyes darken. “I do know that,” he says.

“I’ve—” Jongseong swallows and finds that his throat is tight. “I’ve been helping him.”

“You’ve been what?” Heeseung near-shouts.

“He just went too far this time.”

Heeseung’s brows are furrowed. He looks livid. “Clearly.”

“It was an accident,” Jongseong says. “He didn’t mean to.”

“He almost killed you,” Heeseung hisses. “He would have killed you if we hadn’t arrived in time.”

“But he didn’t.”

Heeseung looks lost for words. If he’s being honest, Jongseong is too. “Why are you defending him?”

Jongseong smiles weakly. “It’s Jungwon.” That’s the only answer he has.

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

Jongseong looks at his hands. He turns one of them over, traces over the heart line with his thumb.

“You know how I feel about him.”

Heeseung sucks in a breath, then exhales deeply. “I do. That’s why you need to hear this.”

Jongseong lifts his head. “Hyung, don’t say it—”

“I have to, Jongseong,” Heeseung says, heartbroken. “Don’t play this game. You don’t understand what it feels like to thirst for blood. There’s nothing else on your mind. You want it, more than anything, and you’ll do anything it takes. Even if that means hurting the people you care about. Jungwon—he’s more vampire than me, than Niki, than most half-vampires in the world. It’s not safe.”

Jongseong knows that. He knew from the very start that it wasn’t safe, but when it comes to his safety and Jungwon’s health, he knows what he would choose. He would choose it every time, in a heartbeat.

“I care about you a lot,” Heeseung continues. “We all do. Jungwon especially, and I don’t know if he’ll forgive himself any time soon.”

That, perhaps, is the worst consequence of all of this.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Heeseung says, placing a hand on Jongseong’s knee.

Jongseong sighs. “Yeah, I am too.” But he doesn’t know which part he’s more thankful about: that he’s alive, or that Jungwon doesn’t have to live knowing that he killed his best friend.

“You should rest,” Heeseung says after a beat, sliding his chair back and standing up. “I’ll let everyone know you’re awake. The others are worried sick.”

“Tell them I said thanks for saving me,” Jongseong says, mustering up a smile.

Heeseung breathes out a short laugh. “I’ll also tell them it won’t happen again,” he says. He closes the door behind him.

Jongseong opens up his messages and pulls up his and Jungwon’s chat. The last text is a cute cat sticker that Jungwon sent.

Jongseong types out, i’m okay. And then: it wasn’t your fault.

Jungwon reads the message almost instantly. He doesn’t respond.

Half an hour later, there’s a knock at the door. Jongseong shouts for them to come in. He isn’t sure who he was expecting it to be, but it sure wasn’t Niki.

“Hey, hyung,” Niki greets casually, going to sit at the foot of the bed. He sits criss-cross and he looks at Jongseong, who’s been staring at him in confusion since he entered. “So,” he says, waggling his brows, “you and Jungwon-hyung?”

Jongseong’s mouth flops open, dumbly. “Um… How do you…”

Niki giggles and taps his own neck a couple times. “Hickies.”

“Ah…” Jongseong says, grimacing. He sighs. There isn’t any point being embarrassed about it. “Are you going to scold me? Heeseung-hyung already did the job.”

Niki tilts his head to the side. “No, I just want to hang out. Everyone else is already asleep.”

Jongseong hums, finally understanding, but he also feels like Niki is lying. Jongseong almost died today; he isn’t going to be much fun, and Niki knows that. They sit in silence for a few moments, awkwardly glancing at each other every now and then. It doesn’t seem like Niki brought his phone, and Jongseong thinks it would be rude to pull out his own. Jongseong stares at the wall.

“You know,” Niki says eventually, “I used to feed from Sunoo-hyung sometimes.”

“You what?” Jongseong shouts, jaw dropping.

Niki chuckles. His fangs are smaller than Jungwon’s, Jongseong notices. Jongseong doesn’t know if it’s because he’s younger, or if it’s because he has less vampire blood in him. Probably a bit of both. “Back during debut, when we were… closer.”

There’s something else there, but Jongseong doesn’t think Niki needs to say it. They all know about it, what Niki and Sunoo used to be, what they aren’t anymore. There might not be a word for it.

“How did you guys hide that from us?” Jongseong wheezes. He feels almost as dizzy as he was when he was on the brink of death.

“Well, I never almost killed him,” Niki deadpans, and, okay, that makes sense.

Jongseong is still filled with questions. His head is spinning. “Why did you two stop?”

Niki shrugs. “Because we grew apart.”

Right, that was a dumb question. Sharing blood is an act of trust. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Dunno, really,” Niki answers, shrugging again. “I just thought it was relevant.”

It is relevant, but Jongseong doesn’t exactly know what to do with this information.

“I don’t really think it’s a bad thing, to feed from humans,” Niki says into the ensuing silence. “Just as long as you’re careful.”

“Careful?”

“Sunoo-hyung would always tell me when to stop.”

Is it that simple? Is that all it takes?

“And you listened?”

Niki giggles, and Jongseong remembers that he’s talking to a sixteen year old. “Yeah, because he’d kiss me every time I did.”

Jongseong tries his hardest not to make a face. “Oh, that’s nice, I guess.”

“Just some food for thought,” Niki says, looking very serious all of a sudden.

“Haha…” Jongseong feels a little faint.

Then Niki jumps off the bed, turning back around to grin brightly at Jongseong. “So, cool. That’s pretty much everything I wanted to say. Goodnight, hyung.”

“Goodnight?” Jongseong responds. Niki closes the door behind him. Jongseong’s head continues to reel.

Okay. Jongseong has learned two things. One: Heeseung wants Jongseong to stop what he’s doing with Jungwon. Two: Niki doesn’t. Probably. Jongseong doesn’t really know what goes on through that kid’s head, ever. No one does, except maybe Heeseung.

Jongseong also knows this: one piece of advice is better than the other, and it isn’t Niki’s.

But that’s the thing about getting advice. You’re always going to pick and choose. You’re always going to do what you want, in the end.

When Jungwon comes back to the dorm, he does everything he can to avoid Jongseong, sticking to the other maknaes in public and running away whenever Jongseong tries to talk to him. He also indefinitely switches rooms with Heeseung and spends all his time at the dorm locked inside, leaving only for food, blood, or the bathroom.

More than a week passes.

Jongseong gives him space, respects that he can’t face Jongseong quite yet, but then Jongseong opens the fridge for leftovers, notices that Jungwon hasn’t touched his blood bag allotment since he arrived. Jongseong considers the possibility that Jungwon brought back a personal supply from his house, but it doesn’t add up with the rest of the facts: Jungwon has been avoiding most meals and he’s been lacking energy in rehearsals, moving around like a zombie, missing beats, forgetting the choreo and the lyrics.

After the meals Jungwon does go to, Jongseong has caught him slipping away to the bathroom more than not.

They’re driven back from the company building in separate cars, but Jongseong makes sure to leave in the first car so that he can intercept the maknaes as soon as they get back to the dorm.

Jongseong waits in Heeseung’s room, right by the door, prepared. When Jungwon comes into the room, before he can run away, Jongseong grabs his wrist, yanking him forward, and he uses his other hand to shut the door behind Jungwon.

“Stop it,” Jungwon hisses, fighting back, thrashing. Jongseong squeezes his wrist harder, uses his other hand to pull Jungwon into his chest.

Jungwon is stronger than him, as per his vampire nature, but he hasn’t been eating or drinking.

“I checked the fridge,” Jongseong says. Jungwon goes still. “You can’t starve yourself.”

“Let go of me,” Jungwon urges quietly, head bowed.

Jongseong makes a stand. “Only if you promise not to leave the room.”

Reluctantly, Jungwon nods. Jongseong lets go, and Jungwon’s arm falls weakly to his side. “The blood bags aren’t working,” Jungwon mumbles. “I’ve been throwing them up since I got back.”

Jongseong’s heart drops to his stomach. “Jungwon…”

Jungwon goes to sit on Heeseung’s bed, curling up into a ball. “I want—my body wants—”

Jongseong follows him, sits down on the mattress beside him. “We can—”

Jungwon shakes his head, wraps his arms around his knees. Buries his face. “No. No, I can’t.”

“I trust you,” Jongseong says. He means it.

Jungwon laughs, but it sounds painful. “You shouldn’t, after what I did. You shouldn’t.”

“But I do,” Jongseong replies, imbuing as much sincerity into those three words as he can.

“I don’t trust myself not to lose control again. To hurt you again,” Jungwon lifts his head. His eyes are shiny-wet. Jongseong realizes that that was what he was afraid of this whole time—hurting Jongseong. “What if I—”

“You won’t,” Jongseong says sternly. “It wasn’t your fault, what happened.”

Jungwon chokes out another laugh, weaker this time. “Hyung, I think it definitely was.”

“No, we—” Jongseong licks his lips, gulps. “We shouldn’t have gone into this headfirst. We should have established rules. A system.”

Jungwon looks at him blankly.

“Let’s practice,” Jongseong says.

“Practice?” Jungwon asks, a hysterical tinge to his voice.

“You feed from me, and when I tell you to stop, you stop immediately,” Jongseong explains. He has Niki to thank for this. He tries not to think about how humiliating that is. “We can start with small bites and work our way up.”

Jungwon puffs his cheeks. “That sounds like you’re training me.”

Jongseong smirks. He shifts on the bed. “Aren’t I? Something needs to change if we want this to work.”

“And you—want this to work?” Jungwon asks, incredulous.

“I want whatever’s best for you,” Jongseong replies. The terrified look on Jungwon’s face nearly breaks his heart, but he pushes through. “It’s not like this will be forever. Just till you get out of, um, vampire puberty.”

“Growing pains,” Jungwon corrects, scrunching his nose. “Puberty is embarrassing.”

Jongseong laughs. There’s his Jungwonie.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do,” Jungwon answers, frowning. “You know I do. That’s not the problem.”

Jongseong looks at Jungwon, at his sunken cheeks and the dark circles around his eyes. He knows what he needs to do. No, with Jungwon, it’s less necessity and more selfish want. That’s the truth of it.

“Open your mouth,” Jongseong orders. “Don’t do anything, just open your mouth.”

Jungwon pauses in shock, but he listens, parting his pretty lips. His fangs are white and pearly, sharp at the tips. His feet slide forward, hanging off the edge of the mattress.

“Don’t do anything unless I tell you to.”

Jungwon gives him a slow nod, blinking at Jongseong. He watches, eyes wide as Jongseong lifts a finger to his mouth and punctures the tip on one of Jungwon’s fangs. Jungwon’s pupils expand, the hue of his eyes darkening at the blood that pools at Jongseong’s index finger. His throat bobs, his tongue twitches in his mouth, but he sits still.

Pleased, Jongseong says, “Suck,” and Jungwon’s mouth instantly closes around the tip of his finger. He moans, and that added to the pressure of his hot, smooth mouth, his tongue sliding over the wound, is making Jongseong lightheaded.

“Stop,” Jongseong says after a moment, before he himself gets carried away.

Jungwon frowns, but he pulls off Jongseong’s finger, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Better?” Jongseong asks, looking down at his finger. The wound is already starting to close up.

Jungwon doesn’t look too happy. “I don’t think this will work, hyung.”

“Why?” Jongseong asks, confused. “You did well.”

“I think I need some sort of reward.”

Jongseong’s breath hitches. “A reward?”

“Something that will make me want to stop,” Jungwon explains. “Classical conditioning.”

Jongseong tilts his head to the side. “Like, Pavlov’s dog?”

Jungwon makes a face. Jongseong is struck with the urge to kiss his button nose, or maybe just kiss him silly. “I’d rather not be compared to a mutt, thanks.”

A reward, huh?

“Okay, I have an idea,” Jongseong says, nodding. “Let’s try again. Open your mouth.”

Jungwon does. Immediately, without resistance. Jongseong has to pause, marveling at how easy it is to gain Jungwon’s obedience. He repeats the process, piercing the pad of his pointer finger on Jungwon’s fang, waiting a moment, and giving Jungwon permission to drink. He counts to ten, then tells Jungwon to stop. As soon as he releases Jongseong’s finger, Jongseong kisses him, swallows his gasp and slips his tongue into his mouth, sucks the iron off his tongue.

Jongseong breaks the kiss, gazing down at him. “Is that enough of a reward?”

Jungwon nods, a dazed look in his eyes. “Again?” he asks, out of breath. “Please?”

And who is Jongseong to say no?

“On my lap,” he says, sliding his tongue over his lip. Jungwon clambers on top of him, lacking his usual grace. Desperate, needy. Jongseong brings his finger back to Jungwon’s mouth, repunctures his finger, hisses at the pain, and counts to fifteen this time. Jungwon mewls, his hips rocking slightly. Jongseong orders him to stop, and he pops off with a whine. Instead of kissing his mouth, Jongseong swoops down and latches his mouth to the side of Jungwon’s neck, starts to suck wet bruises down the column of his throat. He uses teeth, unapologetic with Jungwon’s soft flesh. Jungwon whimpers, gasping shakily, and Jongseong brings a hand down to Jungwon’s crotch, feels at the solid outline of his dick, already at full hardness. He’s so cute. Jongseong palms at him over the fabric, grinds his heel down.

“Hyung, hyung,” Jungwon gasps, hips bucking up into Jongseong’s hand. When Jongseong bites down on his neck—not hard enough to break skin, of course—Jungwon lets out a broken whimper, hips coming to a full stop.

Jongseong draws in a breath, bringing his hand back. That was fast, but he isn’t surprised.

Jungwon sways backward slightly with the force of his orgasm. A little voice in the back of Jongseong’s head wonders if that was the first time another person made Jungwon come.

Jongseong clicks his tongue. “Did I say you could come?”

Jungwon’s eyes widen, pink lips parting. He breathes in shakily. “No,” he answers meekly. He shrinks on himself, making himself look even smaller.

“Apologize,” Jongseong demands. Something is taking the rational part of his brain over. It’s always like that, with Jungwon.

Jungwon gulps, panting dumbly. He brings his hands to his lap; they ball, adorably, into little fists. “I’m sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to.”

Jongseong presses his lips together, gazing meanly at Jungwon. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

“I’m sorry,” Jungwon says again. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

Eager to please. Jongseong likes that.

“On your back,” he demands. At once, Jungwon acts. Jongseong gets up onto his knees, towering above his little vampire. His black hair is haloed gorgeously around his head, his pupils blown-out, a beautiful flush to his cheeks. He looks like an angel.

Jongseong almost dives down to kiss him, but then he remembers their system. Kisses are rewards. Not to be freely given. He slides his hands under Jungwon’s shirt, thumbs hooking at the elastic waistband of Jungwon’s sweatpants, starting to pull down. Jungwon whimpers out a soft please. Jongseong takes his time. He peels off Jungwon’s underwear as well, slipping his bottoms down his thighs, to his ankles.

Jungwon kicks the fabric off.

Jongseong gets a good look at him, at his shirt rucked up past his flat stomach, at his cute, pink cock, half-hard already, sticky with cum. Jongseong spreads Jungwon’s thighs to the side to make space for himself, hands squeezing harshly at Jungwon’s flesh.

“Behave yourself this time,” Jongseong orders, glancing up at Jungwon. “If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you feed a little more.”

“Please,” Jungwon chokes out. “I’ll be good.” Jungwon tends to lose his mind when Jongseong’s blood is in play. It’s a good thing that he doesn’t need his brain for what they’ll be doing.

“We’ll see,” Jongseong hums, then he swallows Jungwon down.

Jungwon makes these cute wounded noises when Jongseong hollows his cheeks, starts to bob up, down rhythmically, toying with his balls absently. He pulls up, almost entirely up, but keeps just the tip in his mouth, wraps his lips around the head and sucks, before taking him deeper again. Jungwon twitches in his mouth, gasping filthily, winded, then brings his hands down to yank at Jongseong’s hair.

Jongseong immediately pulls off. Confused, Jungwon chases his mouth, whimpering stupidly.

“Did I say you could pull my hair?” Jongseong asks, wrapping a hand around the base of Jungwon’s shaft to steady him. Both of them. Jungwon’s eyes widen in realization. “Hands off. By your sides.”

Jungwon’s grip loosens, then a beat, then he brings his hands to the bed, balling up. He breathes in like it’s painful. Jongseong, a small part of him, at least, hopes that it is. He gets back to business, smooths his tongue down the side of Jungwon’s dick, tip to base, then trails sloppy-wet kisses on his way up. His free hand squeezes at Jungwon’s inner thigh.

He looks up and notices that Jungwon’s eyes are shut. He slaps Jungwon’s thigh, doesn’t bother to hold back on the force. Jungwon gasps.

“Eyes on me, Jungwon.”

When Jungwon opens his eyes, glossy and dazed, Jongseong goes back down on him, and Jungwon lets out another sob.

“Hyung,” Jungwon whimpers when Jongseong leaves a messy, teasing kiss on his cockhead. “I think I’m going to—”

Jongseong lifts up again. Jungwon chokes back a whine.

“Again?” Jongseong sighs, feigning disappointment, fisting slowly at Jungwon’s cock, the glide easy and slick.

“Can I? Please?” Jungwon asks sweetly, tearing up, pouting. He’s the love of Jongseong’s life.

Jongseong quickens the pace of his hand. Jungwon bucks into his fingers. “Do you think you deserve it?”

“I… I’ve been good,” Jungwon says, but he doesn’t even sound sure of it.

Jongseong hums, stopping his hand at the base of Jungwon’s shaft, right above his balls. His cock is red and pulsing. He likes the way he can hold Jungwon in the palm of his hand. “Have you?”

“What do I have to do?” Jungwon asks. His chest heaves, and there’s drool slipping down his chin. Cute. “To earn it?”

“What are you willing to do?” Jongseong responds, quirking up a brow. He sits back on his heels, lets go of Jungwon’s dick, waits for him to respond.

Jungwon sits up, licking his mouth. “Anything.”

Jongseong runs his tongue along the backs of his front teeth. He looks Jungwon up and down and smiles at what he sees. He’s a mess, his cock hanging hard between his thighs, his hair sweaty, pink all over.

“Show me.”

Jungwon’s lips are bitten-red and plump. He looks lost, but Jungwon, even like this, is still Jungwon.

He knows what he has to do.

He gets onto his hands and knees, crawling between Jongseong’s spread thighs. With care, but without any hesitance, he places his palms on Jongseong’s thighs, glancing up at Jongseong. When Jongseong doesn’t say anything, only looks down at Jungwon with a scorching gaze, Jungwon lowers his head and begins to mouth sloppily at his cock over the fabric. Jongseong hisses, sliding a hand down the back of Jungwon’s skull to rest at the nape of his neck.

Hands squeeze at Jongseong’s thighs, and they slither up to his waistband. Jungwon keeps his mouth on Jongseong’s crotch, but he looks up, as if to ask for permission. He’s perfect.

“You can—yeah,” Jongseong stammers, leaning back until his elbows dig into the mattress. “You can do it.”

Jungwon fumbles at the zipper, then tugs Jongseong’s pants and boxers down to his thighs, just enough to pull out his cock, shining with precum, colored an angry red. Jungwon’s eyes flutter shut, brings one small hand down to curl around Jongseong’s girth, his mouth kitten-licking up the side of his cock, then suckling at the head. He opens his eyes again, pretty lashes wet with tears, meets Jongseong’s eyes.

“Good,” Jongseong groans out, breathily, thumbing shapes into Jungwon’s skin. “You’re doing good.”

Jungwon moans, takes Jongseong deeper, but he can’t get much into his small mouth. That’s okay, for now. He’ll learn.

Jongseong will teach him.

“Keep going.”

Jungwon is messy at it, drool running down his chin, his face flushed, mouth slick and hot and smooth. His back is bowed; there’s a beautiful arch to it, beautiful like the rest of him. Just the sight of him is enough to have Jongseong at the edge.

“Up,” Jongseong orders, and Jungwon pulls up with a petulant whine, his mouth hanging open dumbly. Jongseong swipes his cockhead across Jungwon’s spit-slick lower lip, smears it with precum, just to test the limits of his obedience. Jungwon lets out a wounded noise, but doesn’t do anything. Good.

Jongseong curls his hand around Jungwon’s neck, brings it to his jaw. He keeps Jungwon’s cheek steady with one hand and uses the other to jerk himself off, aiming right for Jungwon’s pretty face. Frankly, it only takes a few tugs for Jongseong to spill hot all over Jungwon’s open, expectant mouth. White drips messily down his chin. Picture-perfect, sculpted beauty.

He didn’t think it was possible to love Jungwon any more, but here he is: proven wrong.

He scoops up his cum from Jungwon’s chin, holds his two fingers just before Jungwon’s mouth.

“Want it?”

Jungwon nods, so enthusiastic with the motion that it’s cute.

Jongseong laughs meanly, slides his fingers in, and rubs his own cum onto Jungwon’s tongue. It’s filthy, disgusting, but Jungwon suckles at the digits, swirls his tongue around them needily, taking as much as he can get—or as much as Jongseong will give him. But maybe that’s redundant: Jongseong would give him the entire world, if he asked.

He presses down on Jungwon’s tongue. “Open,” he says, slipping his fingers out, smearing them down Jungwon’s lower lip. He’s wet all over, and his tongue is clean.

“Good boy,” Jongseong hums, then swoops down, fingers hooked on Jungwon’s lip in front of his lower set of teeth, keeping his lips parted. Jungwon looks at him with devotion, and heat licks up Jongseong’s spine.

He collects as much spit in his mouth as he can, and drops it onto Jungwon’s tongue.

“Swallow,” he says, and Jungwon does—without any hesitation. Jongseong cups Jungwon’s cheek, pleased. He urges Jungwon’s mouth open again with his thumb, fangs bared, too white, and decides to indulge him.

Jongseong pierces two fingers on each of Jungwon’s fangs. “Suck,” he orders, and Jungwon whimpers a pretty noise, aching into the touch, his hot mouth tightening around the digits like he’s starved, and he is, in all actuality. That’s why Jongseong is here. He smooths a hand down Jungwon’s back, tugging him closer, until he’s sitting on one of Jongseong’s thighs.

“Stop.”

Jungwon’s mouth goes loose, and Jongseong takes the opportunity to join their lips sloppily. He tastes like blood and cum and it’s disgusting, truly, but maybe that makes it better, someone usually as composed and pristine as Jungwon, ruined like this. Jongseong loves him, too much, but all good things in excess taste sweeter. He kisses him till they’re both breathless, forgetting to breathe but not wanting to be apart.

He’s kept Jungwon waiting long enough.

He brings his wrist to Jungwon’s mouth and Jungwon gasps at the exposed plane of skin right before his lips.

“Bite.”

Jungwon is salivating, rolling his hips needily onto Jongseong’s thigh. His cock brushes Jongseong’s skin, and Jongseong almost coos. “Hyung…” he sobs, looking at Jongseong uncertainly, like Jongseong is going to pull his wrist away at any moment and tell him it was a test.

“You’ve earned it,” Jongseong says softly, patting Jungwon’s hip. He means it.

So Jungwon sucks in a sharp breath, presses his soft lips to Jongseong’s wrist, and bares his fangs down.

Jongseong winces, but remembers to bring his free hand down to Jungwon’s cock. He strokes him from base to tip. Jungwon pulses in his hand, bucking into his palm, and blood drips down Jongseong’s arm, to the sheets.

Jungwon comes with a gasp, releasing his fangs from Jongseong’s arm, head lolling back. Jongseong is there for him through it all.

After copious amounts of languid, sleepy kisses, praises muttered in between, Jongseong hurries to the bathroom to grab some wet towels to clean them both up. His fingers are tingling, his arm is throbbing, and he’s swaying on his feet, but it’s all good. Everything about tonight has been good.

He soaks some face towels in warm water, wringing them into the sink, and exits the bathroom to see Heeseung standing out in the hall, arms crossed over his chest.

“So,” Heeseung says, nothing short of displeased. He glances at the bite-wound on Jongseong’s wrist, and at his general composure. Jongseong is pretty sure that he’s glowing. He probably smells like sex and blood too. “You didn’t listen to me.”

“Sorry, hyung,” Jongseong says, walking past him. He doesn’t have time for this, and he’d much rather take care of the pretty vampire waiting for him. “Niki made a much more convincing case.”

“Excuse me?” Heeseung wheezes out. “Niki what?”

“Duty calls,” Jongseong shouts back. “Talk to you in the morning, hyung.”

“In my bed? Seriously?”

The system works quite well. Jungwon is back to his normal self, no longer hiding himself in his room. He still skips most meals, but he tells Jongseong that he’s able to keep small quantities of food down, and Jongseong trusts him. They’re on the up, not quite at the home stretch, but on the up.

When Jungwon reveals that he isn’t throwing up the blood bags anymore, they talk about steps going forward. Jungwon worries his head over what that means for them, but Jongseong just kisses his cheek and says, “We don’t need to stop completely. I mean, we can let up on the blood sharing, a little. But we don’t have to stop.”

Jungwon’s eyes are wide. “Really?”

Jongseong sighs. There’s no point in beating around the bush any longer, with how much they’ve done, with all the miles he’s already gone for Jungwon. “You know that I love you, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Jungwon says, like it’s obvious. It probably is. “I love you too.”

Jongseong’s heart sings. “Then there’s your answer, Jungwonie.”

Daily, Jongseong lets Jungwon suck small amounts of blood from his fingertips, and that’s enough to get him through the days before the next full feeding, which they time for once a week. Jongseong decides when Jungwon can feed, and when he is to stop. Jungwon listens beautifully, and Jongseong rewards him. Jongseong also falls deeper in love, but dire times call for dire measures; Jongseong doesn’t mind being a casualty.

The system works, and there isn’t anything wrong with it, but there’s always room for improvement.

Furthermore, Heeseung does not seem to want his room back any time soon. It’s a win-win situation for all parties involved.

Most of the time, they just cuddle and trade chaste kisses, no blood involved.

“Seventy-percent, huh?” Jongseong asks, running the pad of his index finger along Jungwon’s fangs. He asked to look at them out of curiosity, in a non-blood sharing atmosphere. They seem almost harmless when they’re like this; they’re cute, even. Everything about Yang Jungwon is cute. Jongseong wipes his finger dry across Jungwon’s soft lower lip.

Jungwon hums in affirmation, licking across his fangs where Jongseong’s fingers brushed. They’re lying on the bed: Jongseong is half on top of Jungwon, and he’s got an elbow propped up by Jungwon’s head.

“My grandmother’s a pure-blood,” Jungwon reveals. “She was turned in the early 1900s, around when Japan annexed Korea. At the time, there was a cult of pure-blood vampires who would turn innocents into vampires without them knowing. My grandmother was just unlucky.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jongseong says.

“It’s fine, really. My great-grandfather on the other side is pure-blooded too, but he was turned in the middle of the Joseon dynasty. He was dying of the plague and one of his doctors was a pure-blood. He gave my great-grandfather a choice.”

Jongseong’s jaw drops. “That’s—”

“Centuries, I know,” Jungwon says with a chuckle. He boops Jongseong’s nose.

“How did he survive the vampire hunts?”

“With a lot of luck, and some kind humans,” Jungwon explains. “Like you.”

Jongseong beams down at him.

“You can meet them, if you want,” Jungwon says, biting his lip. “It’ll be safe, I promise. They’ve had a lot of time to learn to control their bloodlust.”

Jongseong can’t help but tease. “Unlike you?”

Jungwon puffs up his cheeks. “Shut up. I’m learning.”

“You are,” Jongseong hums fondly, brushing his knuckles against Jungwon’s cheekbones, picking out an eyelash that had fallen. “But, yeah. I’d love to meet them. See where you get your blood-sucking nature from.”

Jungwon glares, but he just ends up looking even cuter like that, so Jongseong lands a kiss on his cheek, threads his fingers through his hair, just above his ear. Jungwon smiles back at him, eyes curling into beautiful moons. He likes to play mad at Jongseong, but he can never keep it up for long.

“Also,” he says after a lengthy moment, dragging out the syllables. He lays his hand over Jongseong’s, laces their fingers together, then brings their hands down to his chest. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“What if we get a collar? And a leash, maybe.”

Jongseong makes a strangled noise and sits straight up. “What?”

Pink blooms on Jungwon’s cheeks. “You could use it to pull me off when I’m feeding from you. Handcuffs, too, to make sure I don’t hold onto you.”

It should be impossible to look so cute when suggesting something as dirty as that. Jongseong gets back down on his elbows, cages Jungwon in with his body, and licks a stripe up his cheek. A winded breath escapes Jungwon’s mouth.

“Kinky,” Jongseong laughs playfully.

Jungwon pouts. “It’s not a kink. It’s a safety measure.”

Jongseong looks down. “Do safety measures turn you on?”

Jungwon scrunches his nose. “It’s for your good.”

“Yours too, from the look of it,” Jongseong says. He snakes a hand down to cup the tent by Jungwon’s crotch. “From the feel of it too.”

“Don’t be mean,” Jungwon bites back, squirming, cheeks afire.

Jongseong laughs, squeezing Jungwon’s dick over the fabric. “You like it when I’m mean.”

“Shut up,” Jungwon mumbles, but his hips are lurching into Jongseong’s grip.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jongseong lilts half-heartedly, leaning back down to capture Jungwon’s lips in a soft kiss. God, he’s so in love.

Then Jungwon is pressing a hand to Jongseong’s chest, lightly pushing him off. Jongseong lifts up, their lips disconnecting with a wet smack. Jongseong frowns, impatiently, wanting those lips back on him.

“So is that a yes?” Jungwon asks, eyes burning with determination.

Jongseong laughs under his breath and just goes to kiss Jungwon again. He’ll scour through some BDSM websites tonight.

A week later, Jongseong finds himself fastening a blood-red leather collar with a heart-shaped cut-out around Jungwon’s neck. At the back, by the buckles, is a metal ring, meant for the clasp of a leash.

“This feels weird,” Jungwon says, touching the front of his neck. He’s sitting on his butt, legs folded outward, facing Jongseong, near-mirroring his position.

“It was your idea,” Jongseong grumbles, tucking the end into the buckle. “Tight?”

Jungwon swallows, his ears pink. “Yeah, but—it’s a good tight.”

When Jongseong goes to loosen it, Jungwon grabs his wrist. “Don’t.”

Jongseong chews on his cheek. “I don’t want you to pass out.”

Jungwon smiles. He isn’t wearing anything but the collar, so Jongseong looks down and sees his dick starting to fill up between his thighs. “It’s fine. Just check if you can slide your fingers under enough to grab.”

So Jongseong curls his fingers, slipping his thumb under the bottom and his pointer and middle fingers under the top. Then he tugs him forward. Jungwon yelps quietly as he falls onto Jongseong, frantically grabbing at the sheets behind him for purchase.

“Good?” Jongseong asks with a smirk. He releases the collar.

Jungwon breathes in shakily, sitting back on his heels. “Good.”

“Hands behind your back,” Jongseong orders. The handcuffs are the same color as the collar and leash, leather too, with soft padding on the interior. Jongseong made sure to do his research, get the highest quality gear he could for his little vampire. He fits the cuffs to Jungwon’s wrists, securing the buckles appropriately, and checking the tightness just as he did with the collar.

Finishing touches: he clasps the connector on the leash to the metal ring on the collar.

Jungwon watches him through it all, silently, his dick filling up to full mast throughout the process. His chest is heaving slightly, body curved, pliant. Jongseong considers the possibility of investing in nipple clamps, one day.

He tips his head to the side. “I thought you said you didn’t want to be treated like a mutt? You look so pretty like this,” Jongseong says absently, giving Jungwon a once-over. He pulls on the collar slightly, forcing Jungwon to bare his neck to the side. “Can do whatever I want with you.”

Jungwon grins, his eyes sparkling, dimples poking into his cheeks. “Could you give me a punishment if I’m bad, too?”

Jongseong laughs, feeling so fond. “Whatever you want.” Because that’s all it is: what Jungwon wants, Jongseong wants.

Jungwon’s face then scrunches up, looking uncertain. “Hey, Jongseong-hyung?”

“Yeah?” Jongseong asks, pinching one of Jungwon’s nipples. He’s paying attention, he swears.

Jungwon squirms at the touch, so Jongseong lets go. “This is probably a really bad time to ask, but—” He cuts off, biting his lip. “What are we?”

There are a lot of answers to that question. Jongseong is Jungwon’s blood bag, and Jungwon is Jongseong’s little vampire prince. Jongseong is Jungwon’s person, and Jungwon is Jongseong’s person. They’re each other’s best friends, lifelines, and the romantic in Jongseong would even say that they’re each other’s soulmates.

All of the answers, though, have one thing in common.

“Well, for starters,” Jongseong says, slipping two fingers under Jungwon’s collar, pulling him closer. He smiles down at Jungwon, nothing but tenderness in his eyes. “I’m yours, and you’re mine. Do we need to be anything else?”

Jungwon laughs brightly. “Well said, hyung.”