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Jongho doesn’t remember the hit but there must have been one, with the way his head is throbbing.
One moment he was snooping around a dark alley, any light the sunrise could have provided obscured by tall, abandoned buildings. A bad part of town, investigating something the entire hunter guild was struggling with alone, outside of working hours—a recipe for disaster. As he struggles against the hold of whoever is dragging him currently, Jongho decides that if he does make it out alive, he’d be lucky to get off with a suspension.
There’s a string of curses above him, a face Jongho can’t see because they’d been smart enough to cover his head. A moment later, a sharp pain explodes in his neck.
Damn, Jongho thinks with his last remnants of clarity. This is a really shitty way to die.
🩸
A hunter’s job is a perilous one, and Jongho accepted that fact long before he entered the academy. Most of the people who entered with him didn’t make it to graduation, be it for random attacks or taking jobs they were not yet prepared for.
But Jongho made it. Graduated with honours, made it into a division led by one of the biggest names in the hunter community, has had a stellar career since.
It’s a shame, then, that after so much effort he’s going to die in a mouldy dungeon, chained to the very thing he was supposed to be hunting. And he can’t even see his face.
“Stop squirming, it’s pushing the chains into my skin,” the vampire grits.
Jongho tugs on purpose, delighting in the hiss he gets in response. They’re chained back to back so he can’t see, but the sound of sizzling flesh brings him comfort. If he’s not going to make it out alive, Jongho will make damn sure that the vampire will remember him for all of his damned existence.
Given that the vampire does make it out, of course.
“You do realise,” Jongho says with a pointed tug at the chains, “that I am supposed to hunt you, right?”
“And you do realise,” the vampire hisses, “that you were not hunting me, right?”
Jongho can’t exactly argue. In fact, he wasn’t hunting at all. He was supposed to be investigating a series of suspicious disappearances in one of the quieter parts of town. Maybe that’s why he let his guard down—his first mistake—and here he is now. Here, in what seems to have been a cellar once. It has a tiny, unevenly boarded window. They are tied up a little to the side, most likely enough so the sun won’t really be an issue. Someone really thought this through, and Jongho is tempted to move just for the sake of it.
Then again, if moving does place them within the reach of the sunrays, there would be a lot of extra noise. And smell. The vampire might be weakened for now, but he is a vampire and Jongho is defenceless.
How the vampire got there, in the first place, he has no idea.
When Jongho first came to, he was chained, blindfolded and being dragged across a surprisingly smooth floor. He’d acted on instinct—the second mistake. Kicked out, tried to free his hands or take off the blindfold or something, which led to his kidnappers simply knocking him out again.
“Why would they even lock me up with you,” Jongho sighs. “No offence.”
He definitely means the offence, and by the vampire’s scoff he knows it, too.
“Hell if I know,” he says. “We’ve had some disappearances lately. Younger vampires, one day here and the next gone. There are whispers.”
Jongho scoffs. “An organised thing seems pretty far-fetched to me. They could just go out on the street if they were looking for some violent entertainment.”
It’s a lie, an exaggeration at best but Jongho doesn’t bother correcting himself. Ever since the hunters banded together, a sprawling system of justice that makes sure people and things both get what they deserve, the streets have been quiet. As quiet as they can be with blood-sucking monsters now an official part of society, but quiet still. It’s a rarity to see random attacks nowadays and people like Jongho make sure that one off incidents don’t repeat.
It’s yet another stain to Jongho’s thus far perfectly pristine reputation: hunted, kidnapped, locked away when he was supposed to be the one doing the hunting.
If he makes it out alive, Seonghwa is probably going to fire him.
🩸
For a while, Jongho counted the seconds to pass time. Around five hours and forty three minutes, he lost count.
Around the sixth hour, Jongho heaves a sigh.
“What’s your name?”
The vampire shuffles behind him, his first movement since Jongho stopped pulling the chains.
“Yeosang,” the vampire says eventually. “Do I get the pleasure to know your name as well?”
Jongho’s first instinct is to say no. You don’t reveal your identity to the enemy unless absolutely necessary, it’s one of the first things they drill into their heads at the academy.
But then again, this is not the academy. Jongho doesn’t feel particularly ready to die, but it’s a possibility, given the circumstances. A big possibility, and Yeosang is more or less in the same boat as him. Maybe slightly worse—at least Jongho’s chains aren’t designed to hurt him. Even without the squirming, he can still hear Yeosang’s flesh sizzle from time to time.
“Jongho,” he says eventually.
Whatever. Worst case scenario, he can always kill Yeosang once they get out. And anyway, plenty of vampires know Seonghwa’s name and it hasn’t stopped him from being the top two hunters in the entire country.
“Nice to meet you, Jongho,” Yeosang says politely. “I wish we met in better circumstances.”
Jongho’s stomach rumbles, and he tugs at the chains on reflex.
“I wish we hadn’t met at all,” he replies in the midst of Yeosang’s hiss of pain.
🩸
Around hour eight, although Jongho really doesn’t trust his estimation anymore, the door opens.
It’s two men—humans, as far as Jongho can tell. They’re short, with neatly combed hair and expensive suits that are vastly inappropriate for the mouldy stone ground. One grey, one dusty blue. Equally ugly.
“I see you’re both awake, this is good,” the man in grey says with a smile. “I was worried we’re gonna have to force you to wake up or something.”
“I don’t sleep,” Yeosang deadpans. He’s still tied with his back to Jongho so he can’t really see them, but he’s gone stock still in his chains. “Is this the part where you reveal your evil plan and we beg for our lives?”
The second man laughs. “I would be quite disappointed if you begged, dear vampire. It ruins the fun.”
“Not begging,” Jongho says. “Can we still get the evil plan, though? It might be useful once we get out.”
This has both men laughing. “What are you, a cop? Not the brightest one, it seems. You’re going to die here, boy.”
“You don’t know,” Jongho says, voice incredulous. “You kidnapped a hunter and didn’t even bother to check their background? It’s been what, eight hours now? I should be at the base in two, what do you think is going to happen when I don’t show up?”
Jongho relishes in the shadow of fear that passes through grey suit’s features, even if there isn’t a shred of truth to his words. He has the day off, and he’s not supposed to be on base for at least twelve hours, and that’s if he cuts his day off short. Which Seonghwa specifically forbade him from.
“If things go according to plan you’re going to be dead by then,” he says, a little too fast. “You won’t be the first suspicious disappearance we’ve covered.”
“But I don’t want to be the first,” Jongho grins. “Just the last.”
“Are you trying to scare them or date them?” Yeosang scoffs behind him. There’s amusement in his voice, though. Jongho enjoys the rapidly souring expressions on their kidnappers’ faces way more than he should, considering the circumstances.
“Whatever,” blue suit huffs. “We’re definitely going to enjoy watching you two tear each other apart. Even better that you’re a hunter. You might actually make it less boring.”
Jongho waits for a few minutes after they’ve left to try and shuffle back, bringing out another hiss of pain from Yeosang.
“So what, then? We either kill each other or…?”
“I don’t think there is an or,” Yeosang says. “Please stop squirming.”
Reluctantly, Jongho tries to stay still. “If we can’t get out of these chains now, how are we supposed to kill each other?”
“I think they’re counting on me becoming feral enough to rip through them,” Yeosang says, very even. “They hurt me now and they’ll hurt me then but desperation makes us… stronger, in a way. Also harder to control. Honestly, I’m not sure what their plan is if I do end up ripping you apart.”
Jongho pauses. “Is that possible? You going feral?”
“If we’re here long enough.” He can’t see Yeosang’s shrug but he can feel it. “I haven’t fed in a while and the whole enchanted chain thing is draining my strength faster than normal. I’d give it… twenty hours, maybe? A day?”
“Great,” Jongho says. Just peachy.
A day is about when someone would notice his absence, probably. There won’t be time for the search. He tugs at the chains around him, stops when Yeosang hisses. What’s the point of being immune to the chain magic if he can’t break through the chains?
That’s exactly the point, probably.
🩸
Another five hours pass. Or maybe seven. Jongho isn’t really paying attention anymore. The possibility of someone coming to look for them seems more and more like a distant fever dream. So Jongho tells Yeosang about the academy instead, about Seonghwa and how good he is in a blade, and how he would probably slice through those suited assholes if they so much as breathed in his face.
Seonghwa wouldn’t. He never kills if there is a way around it, but in Jongho’s fantasy, there isn’t. He figures he’s allowed to be a little mean in his last hours.
Yeosang tells him about his sire, a short guy named Hongjoong, who definitely would not hesitate to rip some throats out. Jongho makes a bad joke about vampires unable to suppress their nature.
Yeosang doesn’t laugh.
They both ignore the way he trembles, harder with each passing hour.
🩸
“I won’t kill you,” Yeosang mutters, who knows how many hours later. “No matter what. I am not violent, and I will not kill you.”
He’s not just trembling anymore. He’s shaking, hard, shaking Jongho with him and each movement has multiple sizzling sounds erupting around him. Yeosang doesn’t hiss at them anymore, hasn’t since the last time they tried to hold a conversation. Instead, he’s whimpering—this low, wounded, near constant sound that Jongho is starting to take as part of the silence around them.
“Okay,” he tells Yeosang. He doesn’t believe him. Yeosang probably doesn’t believe himself either, but Jongho doesn’t have a lot more left than to imagine.
🩸
It happens around hour twenty-nine. Jongho isn’t sure if it’s actually hour twenty-nine, but it feels like a good number to die.
Yeosang cries out, shrill and pained and devastated. Then the chains break apart, and so does something Jongho isn’t willing to look at. His arms are free now but he’s been in the same position for so long it takes a moment to remember how his own limbs work.
By the time Jongho manages to crawl off into a corner, back to the wall, Yeosang is staring at him, eyes blood red and fangs so long there are tiny drops of blood sliding off his lips.
Blood and all, Yeosang is gorgeous. Most vampires are, and Jongho has seen a lot of them, but there’s something almost ethereal about Yeosang, something magic alone could never achieve. It’s an odd thing to note when you’re about to die, but Jongho figures it’s good to have something pretty to look at as life leaves your body.
The wounds from the chains are already knitting themselves back together on Yeosang’s body, leaving only the burned off edges of his clothes as evidence. Yeosang curls in on himself, shrieks again, and between one blink and the next, he’s on Jongho.
“You will not kill me,” Jongho says. He’s not sure Yeosang can hear him at this point, but he doesn’t have many options anyway. “You are not violent, remember?” He asks, voice edging on desperate. “You can feed and become strong, and then we’ll end these bastards together, but you won’t kill me.”
Yeosang doesn’t respond, even if he hasn’t attacked yet. Jongho’s training flows through his mind like a tape which you’ve pulled the film from. It’s all curled up and useless at the bottom of his brain. There aren’t many options if you face a vampire unarmed, and Jongho knows for a fact that they stripped him of all weapons before they locked him in here.
“At least I’ll die at the hands of someone I kind of like,” Jongho mutters to himself. Then bares his throat. No need to prolong the inevitable.
Moments later, Yeosang’s teeth sink in.
🩸
When Jongho wakes up, the first thing he sees is white.
He figures he’s too fucked up for heaven, so he tries to force his muscles to look around. The white turns out to be walls—and ceiling—and soon enough, Seonghwa’s hunched over form, curled in a cheap plastic chair. Hospital, then. Jongho has been in Seonghwa’s place before, even been here himself a few times.
But it doesn’t make sense. He was supposed to be dead, wasn’t he?
“Jongho?” Seonghwa calls tentatively, voice gruff with sleep. When he notices Jongho’s eyes open he snaps up, almost throws himself on the bed. “Oh my god, Jongho, fuck, I thought—”
Yeah. Yeah, he thought, too. Jongho prides himself on not being an easy crier but with Seonghwa crushing the tubes of his infusion pump, it’s hard not to. It’s even harder with Jongho’s pyjamas getting progressively wet where Seonghwa has pushed his face into his chest.
“You’re crushing the tubes,” Jongho manages to get out.
Seonghwa bolts up, frantically checking the tubes in question. It doesn’t seem like anything is amiss but Seonghwa still calls the nurse, and it’s a while before they’re alone again.
Seonghwa has now taken to just squeezing his hand, so Jongho rubs some hopefully soothing circles along his knuckles.
“So are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Oh god,” Seonghwa sighs. “We burst in there and you were like, unconscious. I thought you were dead but Hongjoong said you still have a heartbeat. That vampire was curled up at your side, we had to physically drag him away from you. It wasn’t easy.”
Jongho blinks at him. “Yeosang? He was conscious?”
“Tried to fight me, actually,” Seonghwa laughs. It sounds tired. “I was about three seconds from killing him when Hongjoong stopped me. There were some threats involved.”
“You keep saying this…” Jongho trails off, then it clicks. “Wait, you said Hongjoong? As in vampire? Yeosang’s sire?”
Seonghwa stares at him. “Were you and this Yeosang friends? I figured he wouldn’t let you go because you’re his prey or something.”
Does being tied up together for god knows how long count as friends?
Jongho shrugs.
“Yeah,” he sighs again. “He came to me with the wildest fucking tale about underground fights. I didn’t know you were missing back then, and his story seemed feasible enough to at least consider, especially with all the disappearances lately. Imagine my surprise when his trail led me to you, unconscious in a dungeon.”
“Surprise?” Jongho says. Seonghwa doesn’t laugh. “I went to investigate the disappearances, actually,” Jongho admits. “I know I should’ve taken someone with me, don’t give me that look, but I thought I’d just look around. I’m a hunter, you know? What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Right,” Seonghwa sighs yet again. It seems to be a running theme.
“Learned my lesson!” Jongho exclaims. He’s not sure, but at the same time, Seonghwa might finish him off himself if Jongho said something different. “I was attacked, I guess, and then I woke up in the dungeon. Yeosang was tied to me, back to back. The chains were somehow enchanted, because they were hurting him. I don’t think he could get out of them pre-being feral.”
“Yeah,” Seonghwa agrees. “Hongjoong picked one up and his hand went all red. It wasn’t pretty.”
“We got visitors at some point,” Jongho continues. “These old, rich dudes who said we’re basically entertainment. Seemed real happy about getting someone important. Serves them right. We’re gonna arrest them, right?”
“Yeah, about that,” Seonghwa starts, voice sheepish. “I think they were about to check in on you, because we found a guard and this important looking old man. I don’t think they will be a problem anymore.”
“Hongjoong?” Jongho asks.
Seonghwa’s eyes are hard as he stares Jongho down. “Self defence. Especially after I saw what they made of you and who knows how many more.”
Jongho stays quiet for a long moment.
“Do we at least have enough to bust the organisation?”
“Oh, definitely,” Seonghwa grins. His eyes are still dark but his tone is almost cheerful. “We found a storage room once you and Yeosang were taken care of. Lots of names, lots of people to arrest. They’re already being processed by HQ.”
“Great,” Jongho says. He wonders if he’ll care more once his drugs wear off.
🩸
He doesn’t.
Instead, he wanders aimlessly on yet another night off. The doctor and Seonghwa had teamed up to force him into an entire week of rest, during which he’s supposed to stay put. Naturally, by day two Jongho was already bouncing off the walls with boredom.
It leads him to present time, at night, when Jongho once again finds himself in a part of town he shouldn’t really be in.
“Did you not learn your lesson?” A voice asks.
Before Jongho realises he’s moved, he has a dagger pressed into Yeosang’s throat, with Yeosang’s fingers wrapped around his wrist in a vice grip.
Slowly, the tension leaves Jongho and he slips the dagger back in its sheath. “You’re one to talk.”
“Guilty as charged,” Yeosang shrugs. “It’s good to know that both our reflexes have gotten better, though.”
Jongho doesn’t remember a lot from the last attack but he remembers thinking Yeosang is beautiful, even with the blood. He’s still thinking it now, as Yeosang stares off somewhere above Jongho’s shoulder.
“Seonghwa said you wouldn’t leave me,” Jongho says eventually.
Yeosang’s eyes snap back at him. “He’s right.”
“Who knew some hours together would make you so fond,” Jongho laughs. It’s not funny, he doesn’t think it is and Yeosang doesn’t laugh. Still, it feels like a better alternative to a raw, messy Why?
“You seem nice,” Yeosang says, tone much softer. “This was more about me than it was about you, though. I couldn’t let you die because I couldn’t be the one who killed you.”
You seem nice. Jongho chooses to focus on that, rather than what the rest of Yeosang’s words mean.
He’s never been overly fond of vampires before, not with a job like his, but something about Yeosang makes Jongho want to keep him close. It’s a wonder what being chained together for god knows how long does to a person.
“Do you… wanna take a walk?” Jongho asks, nerves bursting up his chest like badly lit firecrackers. “With me?”
Yeosang doesn’t say anything for a long moment, long enough for Jongho to consider just walking away.
“Sure,” he says in the end. “It can’t be worse than staring at these ugly streets alone. You’re kind of nice to look at when you’re not chained to my back.”
“Thanks?” Jongho offers. He’s not sure if it counts as a compliment, but it has a rush of warmth spreading throughout his chest. “Not so bad yourself.”
It’s nice. Having company. Jongho can’t stand being at home for too long, and this is what he blames for asking Yeosang to join him the next night, too. And the next. And the next.
He figures Yeosang’s reasons to agree aren’t much different.