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It’s his third month of living with Zhang Hao, and Hanbin’s already given up any hope of bonding with that boy.

His roommate is a man of mystery. It had been a typical random assignment— This university had provided Hanbin with his fair share of roommates, plucked out of thin air and dropped directly into his life, but this one… More than any of his predecessors, is an outright and total puzzle.

Hanbin swears —they’ve lived together for weeks upon weeks, and have never exchanged more than six words at a time. It’s always, “ good morning,” if they pass each other while leaving for class, or “ sorry” if one of them gets in the other’s way, but otherwise…? 

Other than his name, Hanbin doesn’t know the slightest thing about this guy.

It’s kind of a shame. He’s never minded being friendly with his roommates in the slightest. In fact, Hanbin had made a few of his current best friends that way! But if this guy isn’t interested, he’s not interested. He can’t force a friendship—even if it hurts his heart a little. 

Today’s one of those days where Hanbin tries . It’s usually a fruitless endeavor, but Hanbin gives a quick knock on the door to Hao’s room anyway as he passes, humming a little tune.

“Hey,” Hanbin calls out, leaning close to the wood. “I’m making tea if you want any!”

Hao never wants any. Hanbin doesn’t know why he still bothers offering every single time… common courtesy, he supposes. In the kitchen, he pours a cup for himself, staring down into its dark surface, rippled with each stir of his spoon. 

As predicted, Hanbin finishes his tea, sipping it in a long silence, uninterrupted. And as usual, he cleans up after himself, alone.

All of the cups, plates, bowls, utensils in the apartment… belong to Hanbin. He’s the only one who does dishes, because he’s the only one who owns dishes. It’s a strange feeling of isolation in his own space. The drawers and cupboards are half-empty. Hanbin had made room, just in case. 

For a while, he’d found this quite strange. Not only did his roommate move in with barely any belongings and essentials, Hanbin quickly began to pick up on the fact that all of the food in the fridge was his. While Hanbin religiously kept the kitchen stocked with fruits, snacks, drinks, and the likes… It was all bought by him, and it had all been consumed by him. 

Now, Hanbin’s somewhat at peace with it. He thinks he’s got Zhang Hao figured out—the boy’s probably one of those super-rich, secretive types. The kind that eats out for every meal, and keeps their social circle small, full of only elites. 

Though… as for why someone like that would be sharing a shitty little apartment with him, he’s got no idea.

The walls in this place are thin, but it’s never been a problem. Hanbin’s last roommate had been rather annoying, yelling at games through the late night hours, but in that aspect, Hao is a saint. There’s never so much as a peep from down the hall. 

That is… until tonight.

By mid-evening, Hanbin’s lying in bed. He’s cozied up in a nest of blankets and pillows, hoping to squeeze in some relaxation time between homework and sleeping. He’s a hundred chapters into an action webtoon, scrolling through each thrilling panel like his life depends on it, when the sound of a door creaking open resounds throughout the apartment.

Hanbin tunes it out. It would be somewhat weird to react to every movement his roommate—who isn’t even his friend—makes, but this time, a harsh slam against the wall makes Hanbin jump, every nerve in his body frightened at the sound. 

He just… turns to look at his door, as if he could see through it. “Um… Hao?” Hanbin calls out, unsure. “Was that you?”

No answer comes. That’s perfectly normal, but something feels off. A nagging feeling in the back of his brain compels Hanbin to slip out of bed and pad over to his door, pulling it open just a crack so he can peek into the hallway. 

He freezes at the sight of his roommate face-down on the floor, completely motionless.

“Oh, shit!” is all Hanbin says, stepping out and hurrying over as his rational instincts finally kick in. 

Oh my god. Did he just witness a death??? Just like that?

As Hanbin’s brain races with a million and one morbid possibilities, heart pounding in a progressing panic, he comes to kneel down next to the boy, forcing himself to calm his breathing and just—be fucking rational for once!

“Hao.” He reaches down and hesitantly grabs the boy’s shoulder, giving him a shake. Hanbin’s really trying to convince himself that his roommate’s not dead, but he certainly isn’t warm to the touch. 

Hanbin lets out a shaky exhale. What? That doesn’t even make sense. There’s no way a body would go cold that quickly. Hoping that it’s just a fluke, Hanbin brings his hand up to the boy’s neck and presses down firmly, searching for any signs of a pulse.

Thirty seconds pass. Without any sign of life, real, pure dread begins to set in.

He breathes in. Breathes out. Oh… dear god. The reality kicks in with a sharp pang of fear, and Hanbin realizes that he needs to call for an ambulance immediately.

“ Fuck,” he swears under his breath, trying once more to feel at the boy’s wrist for a pulse, then turning to hurriedly check his own pockets for his phone. “Fuck, my phone…! Where did I… Oh my god —” 

He shrieks in pure fear as his wrist is wrenched back, grasped between cold fingers.

Hanbin looks down in a panic, but he isn’t prepared to see Hao , head turned towards him, pitch dark eyes giving him a stare so chilling it sends him into a cold sweat.

“ Don’t,” is the only word Hao mutters, and Hanbin feels like a deer in headlights.

He’s on the verge of tears. “ What?” Hanbin asks, letting himself start to freak out a bit. “What the fuck, you were just dead—!” 

“Don’t call anyone,” Hao repeats, and Hanbin still can’t pry his hand free. How strong is this guy? 

“You— you need a doctor!” Hanbin insists, heart racing both from shock and the adrenaline of this whole experience. “You didn’t have a heartbeat—”

“I know!” Hao retaliates, and to Hanbin’s surprise, the boy begins pushing himself to sit upright. His arms seem to shake as they support his weight, and Hanbin can’t help but reach out in an awkward attempt to help.

“ Don’t do that.” Zhang Hao slaps his hand away rather roughly, and Hanbin winces at the sting. “Just leave me alone.”

“But—”

Hanbin chews on his lip. His conscience hates the idea of stepping back and abandoning his roommate to this situation, but how is he supposed to help?

“Are you sure there’s nothing you need…?” Hanbin asks, but he instinctively flinches when the other boy’s dark eyes turn to meet his once again.

“Yeah. I need you to leave me alone.” Hao is insistent, but Hanbin frowns at the words. “It’s nothing that you can fix.” 

Hanbin watches him lean his back against the wall, letting his muscles relax as he takes a deep breath. Hao cradles his own forehead with a hand, and Hanbin briefly wonders if the boy might have gotten some sort of concussion.

“Did you hit your head?” He asks, timid. “Really, I seriously think you should go get that checked out…” 

“ Hanbin. ”

His name comes out laced with venom. “You’re going to regret it if you don’t…”

Something seems to overcome Hao, and his words fade out as a wince distorts his face, hand gripping his head harder than before. Then his gaze settles on the floor, and Hanbin instantly realizes that his body’s going limp again— 

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, but Hanbin scoots over to sit next to Hao in a millisecond, just letting the boy lean against his shoulder. 

They stay like that for ages. Hanbin estimates it to be only around ten minutes, but it feels like an eternity before the other boy rouses, lifting his head with such an effort, one would think it to weigh more than lead. 

“...Leave.” The word comes out again the very moment that Hao regains consciousness.

“ No.” Hanbin stands firm. 

And that… works? 

Hanbin’s eyes widen as the boy seems to let out a breath, head falling back down against Hanbin’s shoulder. 

“ I just…” The words come out in a quiet murmur. “ Need some blood.” 

Hanbin must not have heard right. “Sorry?”

“ ...Need blood,” comes the reply. 

It’s the strangest thing the boy could’ve possibly said, but who is he to argue? “Um,” Hanbin feels a bit stupid, and his voice comes out soft as he offers up a solution. “Would blood soup work?” 

After a moment of silence, Hao shrugs. 

It’s a hell of a non-answer, but the least Hanbin can do is try. 

“Okay.” He decides, clinging to any hope of motivating himself. “I’ll go find you some. You… wait here,” he says, although it’s not like Zhang Hao is about to go anywhere in this state.

Hao doesn’t respond, but that won’t deter him. Hanbin stands to grab his jacket, and then he’s out , on a mission.

He returns within the hour, having run in a flurry of stress and panic towards the nearest restaurant he could find online that actually serves blood dishes.

Hanbin bursts into the apartment, not even bothering to lock the door behind him as his eyes desperately scan over the space.

Thankfully, Hao seems to still be alive. While he was gone, the boy had moved himself over towards the living room’s sofa, letting his body weight rest against it comfortably despite the fact that he’s still very much on the floor. 

“I got some!” Hanbin announces, and wastes no time rushing over to set the little to-go bag on the coffee table next to Hao. He brings out a bowl and arranges everything in record speed, presenting the boy with a spoon and chopsticks alongside his meal.

The mere scent of the hot dish seems to have Hao perking up in curiosity, leaning forward to just look at it for a moment. With great hesitance and a weak hand, he takes a small spoonful of the broth and brings it to his mouth— 

Zhang Hao’s eyes absolutely light up.

The change is night and day. With every sip, the boy’s posture seems stronger—less weak and frail. His hands stop shaking, almost miraculously steady as he makes his way through the bowl.

It makes Hanbin breathe a sigh of relief. He mostly leaves his roommate alone to eat as he whips a quick snack up for himself as well, happy that the crisis seems to have mostly blown over. 

When the bowl is empty, Hao seems to have gained a little bit of life back. 

The boy runs a hand through his dark hair, messy from the fall and subsequent unconsciousness and whatnot, and turns his gaze upon Hanbin, who sits across the room in silence.

“ Hey,” his low voice cuts through the air like a knife. For a moment, Hanbin tenses. He’s prepared to be chastised, once again, for interfering with things, so he turns his head away to stare down into his lap.

Instead, the words are soft. “ Thank you, ” is all Zhang Hao says, and Hanbin’s head whips up in a surprised hope.

“Ah…” Hanbin meets his gaze, and there’s not a trace of hostility to be found. “It’s nothing.” 

To his surprise, Hao slowly stands up. The boy doesn’t seem incredibly stable yet, but he gathers the dishes together and slowly walks over to the kitchen, putting them into the sink.

As the water splashes on, Hanbin’s mind spins. He’s never seen his roommate do the dishes before now. It feels weird. 

Even so, it feels weirder letting him do this. “Oh no, Hao, it’s okay!” Hanbin rushes over to the sink, trying to take the bowl he’s rinsing out of his hands. “Don’t overwork yourself, I can do it.”

Hao brushes him off like he’s made of sand. “It’s fine. This is how I normally am anyway.”

Hanbin’s brows furrow at that. “Huh…?”

While it’s true that his roommate had always been out-of-sight, introverted, and non-talkative, Hanbin had never quite pieced things together. Sure, Hao had seemed a bit tired on occasion, but is this seriously what this boy feels like all the time…? 

It’s a bit blunt to ask, but Hanbin truly wants to understand. “Are you sick?” 

Shockingly, Hao shakes his head ‘ no.’ 

Hanbin stares. “Then what…”

“I’m fine.” Hao is unrelenting in this matter. “Once I get through this semester, I’ll be able to hunt more. I just have to push through.”

Half of that sentence makes sense to Hanbin. The other half… 

“ Hunt more? ” Hanbin echoes. “What do you mean?”

Hao ceases his washing, and the sound of the sink’s incessant rushing fills in the silence for him. 

Disbelieving, his head slowly turns to Hanbin. “Do you just… have an empty space up there?” Hao speaks, shooting a glance between the boy’s eyebrows. “In your skull?” 

Hanbin furrows his brows. “Hey,” he says. “That is so unwarranted?”

“Why would you go out and buy that for me if you hadn’t figured it out?” Hao points with a thumb towards the discarded takeout bag. 

“Why would I. Go out and buy.” Hanbin speaks in pointed, spaced out words, “The duck blood soup. Are you serious? You asked for blood.”

“Yes, Hanbin, I need blood!” Hao agrees, growingly exasperated—and as his gestures turn animated, the strangest sight catches Hanbin’s gaze. “That is what I eat!”

Hanbin’s lips part in a confused daze as his eyes latch onto one thing: the sharp, pointed tips of his roommate’s canine teeth, unusually noticeable as he talks. He tilts his head, the gears slowly turning as his roommate continues on and on.

“ Really.” Zhang Hao shuts the sink off with force; turns away. “I thought that for once somebody wasn’t going to freak out when they realized…” 

All at once— it clicks . 

Hanbin’s eyes widen, but as Hao harshly dries his wet hands with the kitchen towel, he gets the oddest sense of disappointment from the other boy. “I…”

The sound of his voice makes Hao pause. Like he’s leaving him an opening to speak. 

“I don’t really care what you are,” Hanbin begins, “but if there’s a way that I can help—”

The other boy laughs at this, short and curt. “The soup was helpful, I’ll admit, but— it’s not enough to sustain me.” 

While the boy is at least listening to him, Hanbin's desperate brain wracks itself over and over for words. “Then what is?”

“ Human, Hanbin.” Zhang Hao addresses him like a lecturer. “Animal blood can only do so much.”

Maybe he’s stupid. Empty-skulled and void-brained like Hao had implied, because for some reason, Hanbin’s first instinct is to give him a naive, questioning look— then extend his arm, exposed wrist upturned and bare for the taking.

Hao looks at him like he’s grown three heads. 

“Are you insane?” Hao speaks, but ironically, these words have less bite. He shoves Hanbin’s arm down, gentler than his harsh smacks of earlier. “Stop that. You have no idea what you’re offering.”

“You won’t kill me, right?” Hanbin asks, and that arm is right back up again. Insistent. 

“What? No, I—” 

“Then go ahead.”

Hao’s hesitant face seems to flood with a mix of worry and… something else. His eyes flicker to Hanbin’s wrist—to the barely visible veins beneath the surface of his skin—then back up to meet his gaze.

“You’re scared.” Zhang Hao states, and Hanbin pretends that the words don’t force a sharp inhale. He shouldn’t be surprised that his roommate knows. 

“I am not.” It’s a total lie, and he’s confident that Hao can tell. Yet the other boy steps forward anyway, taking Hanbin’s arm cautiously into both hands. 

“And you’re sure about this?” he asks, rolling up the dark sleeve of Hanbin’s sweatshirt ‘til it bunches up around his elbow. 

Eyes glued to the boy’s every action, Hanbin nods. His heart’s beating so fast that he’d be shocked if a normal person couldn’t feel it, much less Hao, who slowly drifts his thumb across the surface of the exposed forearm, soft fingertip trailing against warm skin. 

Light, careful, Hao lifts the boy’s arm up. “This is your last chance,” Hao warns, lingering gaze still steady, and Hanbin shakes his head in a fervor .

“Just do it!” He urges. He can’t leave himself any time to think rationally—to back out of this stupid whim, and in an instant, Hao leans forward; sinking the piercing needles of his sharp teeth into Hanbin’s pale flesh, and — 

Every muscle in his body tenses as the pain —a sharpness near-carnal shoots through his nerves like lightning, burning and raw. Hanbin bites his bottom lip just to keep from swearing, and an instinctual wave of terror fills him at the sight of crimson red droplets hitting the floor.

He clenches his fist to white knuckles, resisting every human urge to free himself, though he’s not sure if he could escape the tight grip of Hao’s hands on his arm—sharp nails pressing divots in his skin, one millimeter from drawing blood. 

Then… the strangest sensation seems to take root. Hanbin barely notices it at first—a tiny spark of warmth beneath a sea of pain—but his hand’s tight tension begins to loosen, and the agonizing feeling of ripped flesh gives way to a subtle numbness.

He sees Hao pull back, fangs bathed in deep red as he leaves behind that harsh open wound, then— the boy’s eyes flutter closed, and he returns, mouth placed gently upon the seeping blood he’d brought forth.

Hanbin watches in morbid fascination, no longer out of his mind with pain, as his roommate—quite literally—sucks the blood from his wound. The soreness fades to almost a dull pleasure as whatever toxins Hanbin’s sure the boy has kick in, and his lips feel unfathomably soft pressed up against his skin, slow yet unceasing in movement.

Surely there’s something wrong with him. To allow this—to not hate this. But as Zhang Hao drains the blood from his body, Hanbin feels… elated? 

Quivering, Hanbin’s free hand finds the back of Hao’s head, and his fingers rest upon his dark locks, holding him there. Urging him to stay latched to Hanbin’s arm, drinking his fill. 

Zhang Hao almost looks… pretty like this. Hanbin’s never given it much thought, but his roommate’s black hair, tousled bangs over his dark brows, and soft lashes, all give him a sort-of cold beauty look. A doll-face, with lips stained cherry red—though messy and smudged at the corners…

God, Hanbin feels lightheaded.  

Vision unfocusing, Hanbin barely notices that Hao pulls back, taking a deep breath as he gathers himself, eyes fixating on the other boy. 

Hanbin is so… So dizzy. 

“ Hey—!” Hao’s words sound muffled, underwater, and suddenly hands are on his shoulders, giving him a shake, and he feels his legs turn weak. 

“I…” Hanbin mumbles out. “I need to—” 

He near-stumbles, but Hao is at his side in the blink of an eye, propping him up with an arm around his waist. 

Hao is definitely saying something to him, but he can’t exactly distinguish words out of his sounds right now; all he can do is let the other boy guide him to their couch, and help him sit down, feeling the world spinning on its axis around him.

“ You’ll be okay,” are the only words Hanbin can make out, his roommate’s cold—no… warm?— hands placed firmly on his cheeks. “You’re fine.”

And Hanbin closes his eyes, leaning back against the pillows. A direct mirror of Zhang Hao, just a mere couple of hours ago.

He trusts him. He doesn’t know why, but he does.

Zhang Hao returns the favor with a pot of fresh tea and a bowl of non- blood soup. 

Of course, Hanbin recovers fairly fast; he’d only been suffering from the minor adverse effects of losing a lot of blood in little time, so sitting still and getting hydrated mostly does the trick in terms of his healing.

It’s a different injury that takes precedence. While he sits in recovery mode, sipping his broth mostly now as emotional-support, his arm stays cast to the side—held in the nimble hands of Hao, who silently busies himself with dressing the remaining gashes, disinfecting and wrapping his arm in light bandages. 

There’s an odd, pensive look that settles on the boy’s face and doesn’t seem to leave. 

Before Hanbin can ask, Hao puts it into words:

“Hey,” he starts. Serious. Quiet. “I know I’ve never exactly been nice to you, but… thanks.”

“It’s nothing,” Hanbin insists, half-distracted as he watches Hao tighten the gauze around his forearm. 

“No, I’m serious.” Hao looks towards him. “You had no reason to help me, but you still did. I owe you.” 

Hanbin doesn’t know what to say. He searches for any sign that the other boy is giving him platitudes, empty words meant to fulfill a social contract, but… he seems genuine.

“Isn’t there something I can do for you in return?” Hao asks as he sets Hanbin’s arm to rest against the cushion, finished wrapping. “Any favors?”

He thinks for a moment. Then, with utmost sincerity, Hanbin voices the only request that comes to mind:

“Be my friend?”

This answer catches Hao so off guard that he lets out a laugh at the request. “Really? That’s what you want?”

And Hanbin nods eagerly. “That’s it. Just be my friend.”

Much to his surprise, a small grin tugs at the corners of his roommate’s lips. “You’re so silly,” Hao says, then rolls his eyes before standing and striding away. 

Huh? 

Hanbin watches him leave, a cloud of questions swirling around in his brain.

A week passes.

Hanbin, honestly, is a bit disappointed with the current state of things.

Sure, the climate , if one could call it that, of their apartment had certainly become less chilly. A new sense of understanding had firmly cemented itself within Hanbin the day prior, when he’d come knocking to offer his roommate some tea— before promptly realizing the reason why he’d never been taken up on that offer.

It just feels like things should've changed more.

And he's incredibly bored. Hanbin had finished his take-home exam an hour ago—earlier than expected—and back when he’d lived with Matthew, this would've been the perfect opportunity to go and grab his friend for some impromptu shenanigans.

But… 

Hanbin contemplates his options, lying full starfish on his bed. He’d made a deal, right? It couldn't possibly be weird to do this. Right? Right???  

He rolls off of his bed, tripping on his rug, and totally ignoring the sudden toe pain as he scurries out of his room and down the hall, like a little lonely rat.

Two knocks resound, firmly placed upon Zhang Hao’s bedroom door.

“Hao,” Hanbin calls out, his usual spiel. “Are you there?”

Nothing. Hanbin can’t help but frown. Sure, this is the usual response, but a pang of disappointment strikes his heart at the disregard. Silence hangs in the air like a stagnant reminder of the months prior, and Hanbin sighs, resigning himself to just go play video games or something. “Okay,” he says faintly. “I guess not.”

He turns, dejected, and takes a step—but nearly trips again at the sudden sound of creaking hinges, the door next to him swinging open in an instant.

Hanbin whips back around at the speed of light. 

“Sorry, what?” Zhang Hao stands in the doorframe, a pair of headphones hanging around his neck. The sound of low music blasting from them catches the younger boy’s attention, but he ignores it in favor of eagerly standing there like a puppy. “Did you ask me something?”

Hanbin just looks at him for a second, smiling. He probably looks like a total weirdo, but he’s a little bit hyped at the fact that he’d been answered. “No! Just—” Hanbin fidgets with his hands, “I wanted to know if you were busy!”

Hao seems to give him a onceover. “Uhh, I mean, kinda… ” The boy throws a quick glance back towards his room. 

“Ah.” Hanbin purses his lips. “Okay! That’s fine.”

An awkward warmth settles in Hanbin’s cheeks, and he shifts his weight back and forth on his feet. He opens his mouth to make some dumb escape-route comment, like “ I’ll leave you alone then,” but that plan is interrupted by the sight of Hao stepping back and pushing his door open wider.

“Do you wanna come in?” Hao asks, and without receiving an answer, he leaves the door open—turning on his heel and padding back into his room.

Hanbin’s limbs feel rooted to the ground. He supposes the open door is an invitation to follow, but he still has to force himself to enter, lingering near the doorway still as he steps inside, scanning around to take in every nook and cranny of the space.

The boy’s room is more colorful than expected. This place had been totally off-limits, but it hadn’t stopped Hanbin from wondering about what it must look like inside. Needless to say, his guesses had been miles off. There’s band posters on the walls, shelves of meticulously organized trinkets, and a bedside lamp shaped oddly like a flower… There’s even a few potted plants that have to be real, placed hilariously beneath pinned-up wall diagrams of what appears to be the exact same plants.

“I was kinda just zoning out and getting some data tables filled in.” Hao plops back into the seat at his desk—where he’d evidently been prior to Hanbin’s arrival—and clicks around with the mouse of his desktop, saving his documents and putting his headphones away on their stand.

Hanbin must be a certified dumbass, considering he’d somehow never noticed his roommate bringing an entire PC setup during the move-in period. 

Then, Hao swivels around on his chair, seeing the other boy still lingering timidly at the door. “What’s up? Did you wanna talk?”

Hanbin feels like he’s highkey just interrupted this kid’s valuable study time, but he’s in too deep now to leave. At the same time, he hadn’t exactly planned on getting this far. “Well…”

“You can sit down, y’know?” 

The words humble Hanbin incredibly hard, and he almost apologizes before shuffling his way over to sit at the foot of the boy’s bed, letting his legs hang off the edge. 

He doesn’t know what to say. A critical mistake, in retrospect, not thinking this far ahead, but he feels Hao’s eyes on him, watching him in anticipation for whatever words he’s here to apparently say. 

Hanbin’s eyes dart to the side, and he takes notice of an uncapped water bottle sitting on the boy’s desk— one of those tall, metal ones that cause a whole commotion when they fall to the floor. There’s definitely a tinge of red at its rim.

He finds that so goofy . Hanbin cracks a smile, trying his best to stop it from tugging at the corner of his mouth, but he fails miserably .

From Hao’s perspective, Hanbin had just walked in, sat down, and started looking highly amused for no reason, so the elder boy narrows his eyes with confusion. “What?” he asks, glancing around to find what he’s looking at. “What’re you laughing at?” 

“You keep blood in a Hydro Flask?”

“Oh, shut up! ” Hao’s reflex is a shocked outburst of a laugh. “That's so stupid, why are you making fun of my water bottle!”

“Come on, you have stickers on it and shit!” Hanbin points out the obvious, as if Hao doesn't know that already. 

“Of course I have stickers on it, I have to look at it all the time!” 

“That's really funny.”

“It’s not! ” Hao searches the floor near him, and grabs the nearest soft item he can find: a small leaf-shaped pillow which he lifts, and promptly launches across the room at Hanbin with inhuman speed.

The pillow whacks Hanbin hard in the face. 

It bounces off near-comedically, and Hanbin is sent flying back into the mattress like he’d been tackled, back hitting the sheets with a force .

He’s disoriented for a moment by the sudden ambush; by the time Hanbin gathers his senses and lifts his head, Hao has already run over to him, leaning to check on his well-being despite the fact that he’s breaking out in laughter over the whole thing. 

“I’m—” Zhang Hao’s giggles break up his sentences, “I’m so— sorry. I didn't— think that would hit your head!” 

It’s quite difficult to feel mad at this boy, so Hanbin just laughs it off, taking the hands that Hao holds out for him and letting the older boy pull him back up. “My god,” Hanbin says once he’s upright. “You could have a very lucrative career as a baseball pitcher…”

Hao just rolls his eyes and lets him go. “Clearly not,” he states as he steps aside to take a seat on the edge of the bed, next to Hanbin. “I may be strong but my aim is shit.” 

The two fall quiet again, but it’s strangely comfortable this time. 

“So,” Hanbin starts. “You've got blood in the cup.”

Hao turns to him, gaze questioning.

“You hunted today?” Hanbin asks, unsure if he should really be breaching this topic, but god if he isn't curious. 

Zhang Hao nods. “Yeah,” he admits. Swings his legs absentmindedly. “Jumped a guy in between classes.” 

Hanbin snorts at this. “Good for you,” he says, maybe taking it more lightly than he should. “I bet the guy deserved it.”

Hao grins. “Nah. He totally didn't.”

The younger boy laughs at the brutal honesty. “Then why’d you pick him?” Hanbin inquires. “Right place, right time?” 

“Mm, well, no.” Hao’s words make Hanbin perk up with interest. “I saw him fall off his scooter and eat shit on the pavement, so… I took the opportunity.”

Hanbin blinks. “The opportunity to what? Make his day worse?” 

Zhang Hao gawks at him. “What! No, I—”

“You’re kind of evil,” Hanbin teases with a grin. “Beating a dead horse like that.”

“Hanbin!” Hao whines, and slaps the boy’s shoulder. “I’m saying he was already bleeding, if anything I helped him.”

Hanbin shakes his head at this, though the elder… kind of does make a good point. He casts a glance down at his forearm, which looks remarkably good considering it had two holes pierced in it just a mere week prior. Vague memories of the experience do include feeling a numbing sensation, but Hanbin hadn’t anticipated that impacting his healing in any way. 

“Yeah, you helped him have the most shit day ever.”

Hao exhales a laugh at the comment. “You can just admit that you’re impressed,” he says, then leans to gently bump his shoulder up against Hanbin’s. “I saw you looking at your arm just now.”

“You injected me with healing potion and stole my blood,” Hanbin gives him a cheeky look. “I don’t know if ‘impressed’ is the right word.”

“ Please, it’s not stealing,” the elder responds. “It’s borrowing . You basically grew it all back a few days ago anyway.”

Hanbin holds his gaze, incredulous, yet fighting off a grin at the mere thought. “Borrowing?” he repeats. “No, no, no. Borrowing implies that you’re returning it to me later. That is not borrowing.”

And Hao keeps the staring contest going, remarkably better at keeping a straight face. “Yes it is.”

“Nuh uh,” Hanbin insists. “No way.”

“Uh huh,” Hao mimics him. 

Hanbin glares at him for that, but it’s hard to keep that façade up for long. Eventually he sighs, backing down and giving up. “Fine. You win. Even though you’re wrong.”

Zhang Hao’s smile is full of mischief. “You are wise to admit defeat, little human,” he says, and that almost provokes Hanbin to retaliate just from the pure audacity. 

“I am physically bigger than you,” Hanbin says, and the elder only raises an eyebrow, challenged.

“Okay,” Hao responds smugly. “And I’m physically stronger.”

“That wasn’t the argument.”

Zhang Hao just sticks his tongue out for that. “You’re no fun,” he says, despite very obviously having fun.

“And you’re a sadist,” Hanbin points a finger at the elder. “Kicking that guy while he’s down…”

The re-bringing up of that subject sends Hao into a spiral of laughter. “Hanbin!” He begs, shaking the boy’s arm annoyingly. “Leave me alooone, he’s literally fiiine!”

The energy’s contagious, because Hanbin lets a snicker slip out, forcing himself to look away from the elder boy to calm down. His brain feels a weird flicker of warmth every time Hao tugs at his arm, liking the new contact perhaps a bit too much.

“I know, I know,” Hanbin relents. “I believe you.”

When he dares to look back, the sight of Hao’s little smile catches him off guard. 

He just looks… livelier. Hanbin’s not used to this talkative, playful Zhang Hao—the same person he’d barely exchanged a word with for months on end. And here they are, talking and laughing as if all of that had been a simple daydream. 

The way that Hao’s eyes turn to soft crescents when he laughs strikes a pang into Hanbin’s chest, and he startles—wondering what kind of malfunction he’s going through this time—then he feels the elder’s hold on his arm pause, grip tightening.

“Are you okay?” Hao asks, that warm smile still annoyingly plastered to his face. For the first time in a while, his words aren’t teasing at all. “Your heart rate just jumped up all of a sudden.”

Fuck, of course he could feel that. A surge of flustered heat rushes to Hanbin’s cheeks. “I’m good,” he lies, though he truly doesn’t know what the hell that just was. 

“Okay.” Hao’s voice comes out gentle, and Hanbin… really likes that tone. When he releases Hanbin’s arm, turning back to his own devices, Hanbin swears he can feel the ghost of his warm hands still there, like imprints in the air.

What a productive conversation this had been. 

Once again, Hanbin finds himself staring at the floorboards with a racing mind.

Zhang Hao hunts out most nights, bringing home leftover blood from his victims and storing the liquid haphazardly in tupperware, shoved and stacked into the fridge.

It’s better this way, Hanbin thinks. They’d talked, and Hao, having been living in secrecy until recently, finally decided he felt open and safe enough to use the apartment’s facilities for his own benefit for once. 

Hanbin would’ve never thought he’d smile at the sight of blood bags in the fridge—a scene straight out of a serial killer’s den—but the fact is, he isn’t alone anymore. 

Tonight, though, as Hanbin rummages through the cabinets and fridge to find a snack for himself, he notices that all of the plastic containers are totally empty. He hums with confusion, scrounging around a bit, thinking that maybe he’s just blindly missing it, but… no.

Like clockwork, Hanbin finds himself standing outside Zhang Hao’s room with concerns at hand. He knocks twice, in his typical fashion, and—” 

“ Yeah?” The response comes back quickly. “ Come in!” 

Hanbin peeks his head inside, keeping mostly behind the door. He just wants to ask a quick question, after all. “Hey,” he starts, seeing Hao at his desk, pausing a video on his monitor and looking over at the younger boy. “I noticed you don’t have anything left in the fridge. You good?” Hanbin asks. “Have you eaten today?”

“Ah…” A pensive look surfaces on Hao’s expression. “I’m surprised that you noticed…”

Hanbin’s expression grows disapproving. “ Hao… ” is all he says, but the mere tone of his voice is enough to send the boy into defensive mode.

“I didn’t have time to hunt!” he elaborates, then gestures at his screen. “I have to watch these massive video lectures for class, and they’re hours long.” 

“You should’ve told me,” Hanbin presses his lips into a line. “I would’ve gotten you soup or something.”

“Yeah.” Zhang Hao looks away. “Yeah, you’re right…” 

It’s too late for that option now. Hanbin pushes the door open and steps into the space, making his way over to his roommate. 

Without hesitating, Hanbin pulls up the sleeve of his sweater, feeling the cool air hit the skin of his untouched arm. 

“Here,” he says, and holds it out towards Hao, shockingly nonchalant. 

Hao’s eyes seem to bore a hole into Hanbin’s arm before his teeth even can. His gaze flickers up to meet Hanbin’s, silent and swirling with unsaid thoughts. 

“Hanbin,” the elder holds eye contact as he speaks, “You know that one night without blood isn’t enough to kill me.”

And Hanbin just… pouts . “I know,” he says. “But you need strength so you can hunt later.”

A lopsided smile takes root on Hao’s face. “Go sit down,” he talks softly, and nods towards his bed.

Near-giddy at having been accepted so easily, Hanbin runs over and hops onto the boy’s bed, making himself comfortable and sitting with his legs criss-crossed on the mattress. Hao follows soon after, climbing on to join him and taking a seat in close proximity.

“I wasn’t going to ask you for this, you know,” Hao speaks absentmindedly as he gets situated, scooching up next to Hanbin so he can get the proper angle. He takes the younger’s arm in his hands, pushing the sleeve back, like last time. “I just can’t seem to say no. You’re too sweet.”

A lump forms in Hanbin’s throat, feeling anxious bubbles welling up in his system. “Hah,” his smile turns crooked with nervousness. “In what way?” 

Zhang Hao glances over, giving him a coy smile.

Hanbin doesn’t have time to process that before he flinches at the piercing feeling of needles in flesh—familiar, yes—but just as visceral as the first time. 

Fuck, this hurts. His brain had mostly overwritten the agony through days of distance, but Hanbin’s free hand fumbles to grip the bed sheets, the mattress, anything to ground himself through these first hellish moments. And… 

Warm fingers find his hand, slipping underneath in a second. Hanbin looks down in surprise—his arm’s still in the steady grasp of Hao’s right hand, holding it close as he bites down—but his left hand fits neatly into Hanbin’s, letting the boy squeeze him tight as the pain’s searing burn worsens. 

The distraction works, and Hanbin almost forgets his distress by the time the numbness sets in, Hao gently unlatching his teeth from the boy’s arm, punctures successfully created. 

The boy’s more careful this time—less desperate. Yet Hanbin is just as entranced watching Hao’s mouth come to rest over his wound, drinking up that liquid crimson… a perfect image, serene and delicate. 

Then the warmth comes. He’d forgotten to expect it, and the lovely, heated feeling erupts in the very muscle of his bitten arm like a dose of heaven’s morphine. He lets out the quietest breath, relief escaping his body into the air, but Hao… notices.

Hanbin sees— feels the boy’s lips quirk up into a smile, and a droplet of blood leaks through, streaking a trail of scarlet down towards Hao’s chin.

On instinct, Hanbin brings his free hand up— he wipes the blood from Zhang Hao’s face with a thumb, removing the smudge of red in a swipe, but… 

He realizes what he’s done the moment he feels Hao’s warm breath against his skin in soft, inaudible laughter, the elder desperately trying to contain himself, to focus and feed. Then… a balled fist comes to pound against the center of Hanbin’s chest, just once. It’s a gentle, unharmful hit, but it’s followed with a singsongy murmuring of words against Hanbin’s arm: 

“ You’re distracting me .” He feels the boy’s lips brushing against his skin as he mumbles. “ Stop it.” 

Hanbin doesn’t respond. He sits still and lets his roommate feast, slowly and steadily… Hanbin gets the innate sense that Hao probably doesn’t want him near-passing out from sudden blood loss, like last time. He’s easing him into it. 

By the time Hao finishes, the blood seems to have stopped flowing so freely. The coagulants are probably kicking in, and the elder pulls back, observing the massacre he’d made out of Hanbin’s arm, smudged and splotched blood tainting his skin red throughout the radius of the bite.

Hanbin blinks, and— holy shit, what is Hao doing? 

The elder boy leans back in, giving the bite mark a little kitten lick—getting the blood off, yes—but also sending a full body shiver through Hanbin as he cleans up the wound like a cat, ignorant to the way that Hanbin literally feels his brain shutting down cell by cell, nerves sizzling and shorting out by the second. 

By the time Hao finishes, Hanbin might as well be a lump of ash on the floor.

He sits up, fixing his posture and composing himself as he wipes the blood off the corners of his mouth, pouty lips stained red and slightly plump from the feeding. It’s an after-effect of consumption, but freshly-fed Hao has a rosy blush to his cheeks, and a doe-like look in those damned dark eyes, pretty and pure— an angel . 

Hanbin feels like he can’t breathe. He wonders, eyes fixated on the very visage of Hao— if he kissed him, would it taste of metal? 

Then Zhang Hao looks at him and smiles—a full, toothy, fanged grin. “You didn’t pass out this time!” Hao says, and gives him a tiny clap with two hands. There’s remnants of blood on his teeth, and somehow, even that doesn’t detract from his cute face.

Hanbin wants to slap himself. He forces a laugh out alongside Hao’s cheers, internally crying and screaming at his own brain for slipping into those kinds of thoughts. 

“I guess I’m getting used to it,” Hanbin finds a response somewhere, though when Hao tilts his head, he clarifies: “Getting fed off of.”

He has no idea why those words seem to put a sparkle in Hao’s eyes, but they do. “Do you think so?” Hao asks. “Do you think that’s possible?” 

Hanbin furrows his brows. “Well… you’d know that better than me. Right?” 

Hesitance fills Zhang Hao’s expression. “I mean…” Hao shrugs. “I dunno. I’ve never had the same person twice before.” 

Oh.

In a sick way, Hanbin kind of likes that. In a rational way, he wonders if his body really can become accustomed to all of this. And what would that even mean?

Hanbin purses his lips. “We’ll find out then, I guess,” he states.

Yet the feeling of Hao staring at him, smiley-eyed, makes him more lightheaded than the blood loss. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “We’ll find out.”

The potential consequences of Hanbin’s actions don’t occur to him until they come to fruition.

He’s sitting in the living area one night, watching a movie on the TV and drowning himself in a pint of ice cream to cope with the horrors of life (for example, the mere existence of group projects). A sudden distant jingling of keys alerts him, and he turns to see the front door swing open— followed by the entry of Zhang Hao, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him rather half-heartedly. 

It’s rare to catch his roommate coming home. “Oh, Hao!” Hanbin pauses his film and instantly sits up, kinda excited to greet the boy, but his whole attitude comes to a screeching halt as he takes in the boy’s somewhat… depressed demeanor, dumping his bag to the side and taking forever to slip his shoes off at the entryway. 

The boy’s downcast gaze drifts up towards Hanbin, and—god, Hao looks sad. He gives his roommate a disappointed frown as he trudges towards him.

“Are you alright…?” Hanbin’s voice comes out colored with concern as the elder plops down next to him on the sofa, slipping his jacket off and tossing it roughly aside, like he’s got a grudge against the poor thing.

“I just…” Hao stares off into space, recounting whatever it is that’s upsetting him, “had the grossest meal ever…” 

Hanbin genuinely. Almost bursts out laughing at this.

He maintains his composure for etiquette’s sake. “How?” Hanbin asks. “What made it so bad?”

“I found a guy alone at the park while hunting,” Hao explains, and a distressed frown is glued to his face the entire time. “So I knocked him out and fed, but…”

The boy turns to look at Hanbin. “He tasted like crayons,” Zhang Hao says, blatantly upset, but that sentence is so ridiculous that Hanbin’s whole core hurts from suppressing a laugh. 

“I… He…” Every word Hanbin says threatens to boil him over into a giggly mess. “Crayons?”

“I think he was on blood thinners or something, I…” Hao shakes his head as if that’s some sort of personal slight towards him. “I still can’t get the taste out of my mouth.”

All of a sudden, Hao is leaning over, tugging at the fabric of Hanbin’s shirt. 

“Can I bite you for a minute?” he pleads, looking Hanbin right in the eyes. “Just so I can get rid of this… nasty crayon shit…”

Hanbin’s got no moral objections, but he’s a little concerned on other grounds. “Is it not too soon since you bit me last?”

Zhang Hao shakes his head. “I’m not hungry, it won’t be a full meal. I’m not taking much,” he insists. 

That’s all the convincing he needs. Hanbin lazily offers his arm out, but this time, Hao takes hold of Hanbin’s hand, bringing it up towards his face in a split second.

Without warning, he sinks his fangs into the fleshy part of Hanbin’s palm, just below the thumb. Hanbin winces—but the piercing isn’t as deep… Hao hadn’t gone as far as the usual feeding, just minorly breaking the skin with the tips of his sharp canines.

Even as a small trickle, the moment Hanbin’s blood hits the elder’s tongue, all of the pent-up tension in his body seems to evaporate—a dim smile and a low, happy hum all signify pure satisfaction. 

Hao had been truthful — this was probably a blood loss equivalent to a scratch, or a scraped elbow—enough to coat his taste buds, and not a drop more.

He finishes fast, and Hanbin’s already got a band-aid on hand from his… recent injuries… so he covers up that wound in the blink of an eye. His eyes remain glued on his roommate, though, who now leans back against the couch pillows in a satiated, lazy-smiled silence, eyes towards the sky. 

The question’s been banging around in his head for a while, and now seems as good of a time to ask as any. “Hao,” the younger starts, and he sees the named boy’s eyes flicker towards him. “What does blood taste like to you?” 

“Hmm?” Zhang Hao sort of shifts his body to lean on his side against the couch, facing Hanbin in conversation. “Well, whose?”

Hanbin shrugs. “Does it usually make a difference?”

“ Oh , absolutely,” the elder says, sitting up, as if his conviction propels him forward. “Everyone’s blood has its own taste. And texture… to some extent. Both matter.” 

The thought of texture makes Hanbin internally blanch. “Well,” he asks anyway. “What is mine like?”

A silly smile paints itself across Hao’s face. “Taste it yourself,” he teases, grabbing Hanbin’s hand and shoving it in front of his face. “If you're so curious.”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” Hanbin swats him away lightly. “That’s not the same. To me, it all tastes like copper and iron.”

Yeah, he admits, he's tried it. He’d gotten a paper cut a while ago, and tentatively put his finger in his mouth in a desperate bid to understand what the hell the appeal was.

Needless to say…  he still doesn't get it. 

“Yours is…” Hao turns Hanbin's hand over as he speaks, his thumb tracing around the edges of the cute band-aid that covers the wound. “Savory and sweet— though, recently it’s gotten sweeter.”

Hanbin raises an eyebrow. “It can change?” 

Hao calmly nods. “Yeah. Lots of things can cause that: Diet, medications, even your emotional state.”

“As for which one yours is…” Zhang Hao looks him up and down, and Hanbin feels wildly vulnerable under his scrutinizing gaze. “I don’t know,” he smiles sheepishly. “I’d have to study you more. I'm not used to this sort of thing.”

Hanbin instantly knows the reason. “Does fear affect it?”

“Yes!” Hao nods, then sees the implying look on Hanbin’s face and gasps. “Ohh, do you think that’s why?” 

Then, something clicks. Hanbin doesn't know what it is, but Hao shifts in his seat, eyes trained on him like a target. “You’re saying you’re not afraid of me, then?” 

Hanbin pauses for a moment. “Now? No,” he answers truthfully. “The first time? Yeah, a little bit.”

The elder boy seems to beam at this. “You mean that?” he asks.

Suddenly, Hanbin feels a bit overwhelmed. “Yeah?” he says, and all at once, the other boy is coming towards him— wrapping his arms tight around Hanbin’s torso and resting his chin upon his shoulder. 

The hug is unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome. Hanbin, feeling a bit hot in the face, keeps him held secure and close, arms draped around his shoulders. Hao’s warmth surprises him. He remembers how cold and still he was to the touch that night, ages ago—like death masquerading as a person. He wonders what’s changed… if any of this is because of him. 

Getting comfortable, he squeezes Hao a bit. He hears him laugh, soft and light, and suddenly, Hanbin registers the lightest grazing of teeth against his neck—two sharp canines indenting the skin.

He’s left himself too vulnerable, he realizes. Yet Hanbin just sighs. Even if he’d just walked willingly into a trap, he’s not mad. Hanbin tilts his head to the side in acceptance, baring more of his neck for the taking. And…

Hao lets out a giggle. “What?” the boy says, pulling away from Hanbin, leaving him totally unharmed. “I was just kidding. I didn’t think you would…” 

He catches sight of Hanbin’s gaze and freezes. Total relaxation, submission… trust . 

Hao’s mouth falls open, but not a word escapes. His eyes dart all over Hanbin’s face and frame as his hands drift towards the younger boy’s shoulders. “Not…” He glances towards Hanbin’s neck. “Not now. Not… yet.” 

Hanbin raises an eyebrow. The look on Hao’s face is nervous, an innate sense of fright leaking through every crack in his mask of nonchalance. 

Hanbin almost asks why. It’s as if he’s determined to get himself killed here, expressing any desire for this boy to drain the very life from his jugular and (most likely) leave him bleeding out on the floor. But that’s not it; there’s a very weird sense of closeness that develops, richer and deeper, with every feeding… and that’s what Hanbin is grasping onto.

All he says, though, is: “Okay.” Then Hanbin gives a light smile that’s meant to be reassuring, calming the storm of emotions on the elder’s face.

Hao falls back into Hanbin’s hold like he’s magnetic, letting the boy pull him in close and keep him there, safe and warm. 

Those urges well up again, and Hanbin wishes he had the will to curse them away. He lets his chin rest atop Hao’s head, the softness of his dark hair tempting Hanbin further—beckoning him to overstep. He tilts his head to rest his cheek against it instead. He wonders if Hao even notices.

The feeling of Hao's fingers gripping the cloth of his shirt gives a subtle, yet telling answer. And Hanbin basks in it, filled with a sense of pride at finally melting through this boy’s icy exterior.

He likes his roommate more than he’d ever anticipated. A lot more.

And he has no idea what to do about it.

Soon, Hanbin finds himself in quite a strange position.

He’d gotten what he’d been longing for for months: a casual, normal, fun-filled friendship with his roommate. Right now, he’s lying on Hao’s mattress; the elder boy’s got his laptop, watching a lecture for one of his classes, and Hanbin’s kind of just there as… emotional support?

Subtlety definitely isn’t one of his strong suits. Hanbin keeps stealing surreptitious glances at the boy as he jots down notes on a paper at his side, pausing and unpausing his lecture intermittently.

“Hanbin,” Hao speaks up eventually, eyes not leaving his screen as he speaks. “Is there something wrong?”

“No.” It’s an unconvincing answer, but Hao just raises his eyebrows, not bothering to question it.

Hanbin’s eyes turn to his lecture, watching the video alongside him. It’s a bunch of nonsense to his ears, with diagram after diagram of anatomical structures being presented and discussed over by the professor in the video.

“So,” Hanbin pipes up eventually. “You’re a bio major.” He’s known as much for ages—Hao had mentioned it in passing once or twice, though he’d never exactly expounded on that detail. “What for?”

This warrants enough attention that Zhang Hao pauses the video, turning to look at the younger boy. “ What for? ” he repeats.

Hanbin nods. “Like, what are you trying to do after graduation?” He lightly picks at the bedsheets as he talks. “Is there a reason?”

“Pre-med track,” Hao answers, and this makes the other boy's eyes widen. “The ultimate goal is physician-scientist. Probably…” 

With a quiet laugh, Hao then adds: “if I manage to survive both this degree and then med school. Then… yeah.” 

“So. You wanna be a doctor?”

“Kinda?” Hao responds. “I want to go into research, mainly.” 

“Hmm.” Hanbin takes a moment. Ponders. “Why?” 

Hao snorts at this. “You sure do ask a lot of questions.”

“What’re you gonna do, sue me?” Hanbin returns. “Can a guy not be curious?”

Zhang Hao just grins, turning back to vaguely look at his homework. “I just…” He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I want to understand .”

Hanbin tilts his head. “Understand what?”

“... This, ” Hao says, and gestures awkwardly at his own body—at his sharp nails, pointed canines… at the bite which lingers on Hanbin’s hand only as small pink marks, a day or so from fully healed. “All of it. How… and why.” 

Hanbin’s never really thought about it like that before. For a member of such a powerful species, the elder’s never exactly been teeming with answers. He’s always been doing guesswork, assuming things as he went, taking calculated risks: Risks that may or may not send him to an early grave, half the time—like pushing the limits on one’s hunting frequency.

“I see.”

“They say,” Zhang Hao takes a breath, “that we shouldn’t bond with humans. It weakens our hunting instinct.”

Hanbin blinks. He’s not sure how to take that information, given his current position, but he lets the elder continue.

“But that’s obviously not true!” Hao says, exasperated. “I mean—” he turns to look at Hanbin as he speaks. “I met you , and I’ve only hunted better because of it. More energy leads to more hunts, which leads to more energy… Right?” 

That sounds logical enough, so Hanbin nods.

“Which makes me wonder,” Hao’s rant takes a turn, “what other lies do we all believe about ourselves just because no one’s disproven them? No one’s bothering to ask questions. No one’s doing any tests, we’re all just— living in absolute shit .” 

He sees Hao’s balled fist grip the blanket in a tight, frustrated wad. “I have a growing suspicion that we’re meant to coexist, and we’ve all just been ignoring it. If I get myself into a research position… I can make all of that happen. We can finally understand.”

There’s a determination in his eyes which Hanbin’s never quite seen on Hao—or any of his friends before. He’s resolute; there’s not a hint of doubt in the words, and for a moment, Hanbin is swept up in the whirlwind of possibility this boy is presenting. A world of coexistence, between their two species? It sounds like something out of a fantasy novel, much less his very real future. But… 

He believes in him, fully. Hanbin gently slips his hand atop the elder’s—though his heart rate spikes drastically the moment his fingertips drift across the boy’s knuckles—and he gives him an earnest look. “You can do it,” he affirms, and gives Hao’s hand a squeeze. “There’s no one better than you to figure all of this out.” 

The smile that blossoms across Hao’s face seems enchanted, tinged with a drop of some dizzying divine energy that captivates Hanbin in a glimpse. “You’re just saying that,” he says, though he’s beaming through his words. 

“I mean it,” Hanbin insists, and he looks up to meet his eyes with a cheeky remark: “And y’know. If you ever need a test subject… I’m right here.”

 The words fall out of his mouth without a second thought—Hanbin feels like he’d say anything to keep that beautiful smile on this boy’s face; but he’s fully aware that he can and will be taken up on that offer. Hao’s hesitation seems to have faded away by now, gone into oblivion and never to be seen again. So much for self-restraint… 

“You’re going to regret saying that,” Hao warns despite a giddy grin.

And Hanbin just shakes his head, smiling back.

He knows that he won’t.

As it turns out, Hao’s plans had involved using Hanbin as less of a “ test subject ” and more as a “ person to bounce ideas off of. ”

As the days passed, and spilled into weeks, Hanbin found himself being more often used as brain-fuel than food—not that he minded. It became a regular pastime to sit in the common room and listen attentively to Zhang Hao as he ranted about some whim he was investigating, or something he found strange. On occasion, he’d even interrogate Hanbin on some… uniquely human biology aspects.

It got a little gross sometimes, perhaps. Neither really seemed to mind, and Hanbin definitely enjoyed feeling like a little assistant to his mad scientist roommate, researching every option in the search for enlightenment…! 

That’s dramatizing it. But Hanbin still finds it fun. Sometimes, in the midst of these conversations, he even finds it easy to drift off and forget that Hao isn’t human. When he’s not feeding, he’s got all the mannerisms and looks of a gorgeous, funny boy—one that Hanbin’s started thinking about a little too often when he’s alone.

Zhang Hao seems a little sleepy tonight, letting a yawn slip out on occasion, but he’s absolutely enthused by some new thesis he’s been working on. He’s only got a messy collage of documents and hastily typed-up paragraphs slapped onto a presentation, but Hao’s holding up paper diagrams in front of Hanbin as the younger boy sits on their sofa, watching intently.

“If you’re following that line of thought, you would classify vampirism as a sort of predation,” Hao holds up a comically large sheet that reads “ Predator-Prey Dynamic” in block letters. “In such cases, the predator—that would be me—” Hao gestures towards himself. “Feeds by draining the blood of its prey—that’s you—” Another point. “And subsequently killing it. Now, can you guess why I dislike that term?”

“Ooh!” Hanbin raises his hand like he’s in class. He knows it’s pointless, but the smile it elicits on the elder’s face every time makes it worth it. “It can’t be predation if you’re not killing the prey.” With a half-smile, Hanbin reiterates it just as the elder had done. “Which is me.” 

“Exactly!” Hao then hastily switches his paper out for a different one. “On the other hand, I’ve seen some debate that it’s more along the lines of this.” He points dramatically to a paper which reads the exact word he then says: “ Parasitism. ”

Hanbin tilts his head, trying to follow along.

“The difference between this,” Hao shakes the paper, “And predation , is that parasites don’t necessarily kill the victim. They just steal nutrients and survive off of their victim, usually causing harm… but not always death.”

Hm. That does sort of make sense to Hanbin, but the idea of considering Hao a parasite is kind of hilarious. “So are you leaning towards the parasite theory? I mean… you do feed off of me and leave me with marks, but I’m always fine…” 

Yet once again, Hao shakes his head. “No,” he says, and a mischievous smile takes root on his face. “I’ve got a secret third option.”

Hanbin’s ready for the third sign before Hao can even hold it up triumphantly.

“Mutualism,” it reads. 

“Hmm?” Hanbin vaguely recalls going over this in his high school science classes. “Like, symbiosis?”

“Well, parasitism is also technically symbiosis, but—” Zhang Hao cuts himself off, shaking his head to force himself back on topic. “Your head’s in the right place! Mutualism!” He declares the word like it’s some scientific breakthrough.

“I think it’s a situation where both of us benefit,” Hao states confidently. “I gain sustenance from blood— yours specifically, in this case. But haven’t you noticed that the wounds I make all tend to heal rather fast?”

It’s true, and Hanbin has noticed. He’s been chalking it up to whatever magicky stuff must be going on within Hao’s DNA—they’d even joked about this before, but he’d never really bothered to actually question it much until now.

“It might actually go further than we think,” Hao says excitedly, and sets his presentation materials aside, done with them. “I’ve never even had this thought occur to me before, but… Hanbin. Since I started feeding off of you, have you gotten sick?”

Huh.

Huh? Hanbin furrows his brows, racking his brain over the last few months, and… No, he can’t say that he has gotten sick. “I don’t think so?”

Hao nods like he’s been expecting this answer. “Okay. What about other wounds? Headaches? Allergies?”

Hanbin supposes other wounds must imply ones Hao didn’t create, so… his fingertips come to linger at his jaw, feeling the spot where he’d nicked himself shaving a day or so ago. There wasn’t so much as a scratch left. And as for headaches and allergies…? 

“No…? Now that you mention it, I haven’t had any of that,” Hanbin admits, audibly finding that fact weird as it leaves his mouth. “So you’re saying you think you’re… what, boosting my immune system?” 

Excited, Hao nods. “Of course, I’d never noticed this because I’d never fed from the same person even twice,” he begins, but the energetic look that seems to take hold of his whole being implies that he’s leading towards something big here. “I’d wager most of my kind haven’t. But with you, I’ve noticed that you don’t just heal faster. Your blood seems to replenish itself after only a few days…!”

Hanbin’s not sciencey enough to know the exact dates of blood regeneration or whatever, but based on the way Zhang Hao’s talking, that sounds quite impressive.

“And it’s not because of your cells or anything. You’re completely normal,” the elder continues. “That only seems to have started after the second or third time I bit you. Which means logically…” 

“It’s because of whatever you’re injecting into me,” Hanbin fills in the blanks, and Hao grins, fangs out in full display. The younger holds back a laugh. “Makes sense though, considering that my bites have never gotten infected. But what do you think it is that you’re putting in there?”

“Besides the antibodies?” Hao scratches the back of his head. “No idea. My first guess would be something like erythropoietin, but I’d have to start really testing… I’m nowhere near that stage yet.”

Hearing Hao talk so passionately about all of this brings a hazy smile out of the younger boy. Maybe Hanbin’s got a thing for nerds… but he just sounds so dreamy when going off on excited, happy tangents about his new discoveries.

“ But that’s besides the point! ” Zhang Hao declares suddenly, snapping the other boy out of it. “If all of that’s true, do you know what that means?” 

Now Hanbin’s alert. “Huh?” is all he murmurs. 

“It means that we really are supposed to coexist!” Hao says, taking a few peppy steps forward towards the younger. “Both of our species, together!” In a gleeful whirlwind, Hao grabs both of Hanbin’s hands and pulls him to stand, nearly causing the boy to stumble as he gains his footing. 

Hanbin can’t help but let a laugh escape. “Careful, god!” he warns, but the elder pays it no attention. 

“We make each other better! Isn’t that fascinating?” Standing face to face, the sparkle in Hao’s eyes is near-blinding to Hanbin. For a brief second, he smiles at that phrasing. He knows that by “ we,” Zhang Hao means their respective species, but— 

Hao’s arms settle over Hanbin’s shoulders, draped loosely upon them to rest there as he speaks, wrists crossed behind the boy’s neck. “At least,” the elder begins, a bashful tone settling into his voice. “You make me better.” 

He’d spoken too soon. Speechless, Hanbin holds the boy’s gaze in a practiced calm, hiding the inner turmoil deep away from the surface—especially as his limbs feel weak from the mere words, every nerve turning to jelly as he lets that sink in.

“I…” Hanbin’s cheeks are on the verge of blushing deep pink any moment now, so he doesn’t let this moment of remaining dignity escape. “I did nothing. You’ve just never realized how smart you are.”

The smile Hao returns feels… sad. 

Then a hand is up, lightly cupping Hanbin’s cheek in his palm. “ You , warmer than sunlight, sweeter than honey…” he feels Hanbin lean into his touch, and pauses in an inhale. “Do you really believe you’ve done nothing?”

Though the words shatter his last remnant of composure, sending him into a flushed red mess of dizzy thoughts, Hanbin still can’t exactly fathom what he could’ve done to warrant that much praise. He’s been selfish. He’s practically used this whole situation for his own goals of befriending Zhang Hao. And he’s sat by, idling the time away whilst the other boy put in the real scientific work.

“Well, I suppose I’ve kept you company a bit,” Hanbin offers up, and the older boy loudly laughs, in disbelief at the words.

“Silly,” he scolds, giving the boy a light flick to the shoulder before letting him go. “I need to put my papers up. But…” 

Though Hao begins to turn, he halts mid-pivot in a seeming moment of realization. “Hanbin, what time is it?”

The question brings Hanbin back down to earth, and he fumbles to check the time on his phone. “Just after midnight. Why?”

The faintest “ fuck” leaves the elder’s lips, and Hanbin is instantly at full attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“I guess I took longer writing than I thought,” Hao runs a stressed hand through his hair. “I was planning on popping out before midnight to go hunt before sleeping. I guess that’s off the table now…”

Naturally, this piques the younger’s concern. “Why? Are you hungry?” 

The moment Hanbin even asks those words, he feels Hao’s eyes trained on him like a hawk. “I am , but…”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Hanbin asks, a little smile upon his lips as he rolls his sleeve up on autopilot. “I’m here.”

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea right now,” Zhang Hao answers. 

“What?” Hanbin gives him an odd look. “You haven’t fed off of me in two weeks. If your theory’s right, we should be in the clear—”

“I wanna bite your neck,” Hao admits it outright, like keeping it in for a second longer would be painful. “I’ve been… thinking about it since that time… when you…” 

He coughs, gathering his composure. “Yeah. Anyway, you’re probably not ready for that. You might not ever be. So until I get over that whim, it’s best that I don’t even start, because—”

Zhang Hao falls dead silent as Hanbin reaches down, pulling his hooded sweatshirt up from the bottom hem and over his head, tossing it to the side. The loose t-shirt he wears beneath provides a perfect display of his neck and collarbones, pretty tattoo decorating the center, and Hao’s gaze flickers between this view and the boy’s eyes in an indecisive dance of options.

“Hanbin,” the elder speaks warningly, darkening eyes trained upon the boy’s throat. “You need to know what you’re getting yourself into. The neck is— worse . It’s so much worse than you’re imagining.”

“I don’t care,” Hanbin says, voice surprisingly sure. “You need to eat.” 

“I’m serious,” Hao sounds worried now. “I can’t let you walk into this without knowing—” 

“I thought you wanted to?” Hanbin takes a tentative step towards Hao, noting that the elder doesn’t move the slightest muscle away. He sees Zhang Hao swallow, forcing himself to look up, and make eye contact.

“I do want to.” Hao’s fingers grasp at the edge of his own shirt, fidgeting, like he’s restraining himself. “You have no idea how badly I want to.” 

“And I’m letting you.” Hanbin steps right into the boy’s personal space, a mere few inches from him, and he can tell that the elder’s distracted. “I trust you.” 

He sees Hao take a long, shaky breath, before turning his head away.

“Okay. But… we’re doing this differently.”

Before Hanbin can ask what that means, Zhang Hao steps back, distancing himself to take a moment. “Go sit on the couch. I’m going to bring you something.”

A nervous-yet-excited feeling takes root in Hanbin’s body, and he taps his fingers against the cloth of the sofa as he waits, hearing the boy rooting around in the kitchen for a while before returning.

He notices Hao setting a candy bar aside, on the table. Though he shoots it a questioning glance, there’s no time to voice the opinion as the elder boy takes a seat next to him and places a hand firmly upon his knee. It’s a signal. He needs him to pay attention right now.

“Look at me,” Hao commands, and the younger does as told, staring into those pretty dark brown eyes as the elder speaks. “I want this to be as comfortable as possible for you. But I—I’ve never…” 

Hao looks down for just a fraction of a second. A smidge of anxiety had slipped through. “I’ve never done this before, so… let me know if it all gets… too much.” 

There’s a worried tension in his brow that never leaves, until focus sets in. Suddenly—and much to the extreme surprise of Hanbin—Hao swings a leg over, straddling his thighs until he comfortably sits down upon Hanbin’s lap, face to face, and he places his hands tentatively upon the younger’s shoulder.

Hanbin wants to grab him by his little waist—pull him in tighter, closer— ‘til not even air can squeeze between them. Yet as he feels Hao’s hands begin to slowly knead the muscle of his shoulders—soothing, repetitive movements releasing all of his tension, he realizes that what he really needs now is to relax.

So he lets Hao do his job. The elder massages the tense energy out of his shoulders, his neck, his nape… until Hanbin feels like human putty under his hands. He could fall asleep to this in any other circumstance. Then— he feels Hao’s fingertips make their way into his hair, parting the black locks like fur, stroking it back down again soothingly.

He’s practically in the clouds. When he finally feels Zhang Hao’s warm breath on his neck, he braces for a bite—for that pinching pain with which he’d become so familiar, but—

Hanbin’s breath hitches. What comes instead is a feather-light kiss, followed by a tiny nip. It makes complete sense—this is a great way to ease him into things, to prepare him for what’s soon to come—but he can’t deny the sensation of being given a love bite from this angel hits like a drug to him, making his every sense overloaded with buzzing happiness.

And he sinks back into the sea of overwhelming feelings. It’s like there’s so much at once—the soft threading of fingers through his hair, a hand kneading his shoulder, the weight of Hao on top of him, warm and comforting… 

When Hao sits up, pulling back for a minute, Hanbin feels like he’s only half- real , in some sort of limbo state.

The elder reaches behind him, and returns with a piece of the candy bar he’d grabbed earlier. He holds the broken-off square between his fingertips, and places it against Hanbin’s lips.

“Here,” Hao’s voice is low—both caring and absorbed in it all. “You’re going to want to bite something.”

Mindless, Hanbin accepts the piece, taking it into his mouth as he feels Hao lean close to his ear.

“ Bite the bullet,” Hao whispers, and before the words even fully register in Hanbin’s brain, he— 

Sees full white. 

The pain is so much that for a moment, it’s as if his brain refuses to feel it. White hot lava seems to spout from the side of his neck—no, worse than that. Fire seems to spread throughout every nerve, up to his skull, down his spine, and before he can even breathe, Hanbin clenches his jaw down in an agonized knee-jerk reaction, and— 

Salted caramel . Dark chocolate and salted caramel. The sweet flavor and his brain’s rush of endorphins last for but a brief moment of respite as that horrible, searing pain that feels like one’s very flesh is being melted away returns, and Hanbin finds his lungs again, taking a deep inhale at the sting.

And Hao’s squeezing him tight, one hand rubbing his back in firm circles as his teeth sink deeper into Hanbin’s neck, the other still buried in his hair, stroking it comfortingly, back and forth—back and forth.

As he rides the pain out, Hanbin’s arms grasp at the boy’s torso, fingertips digging into his sweater-covered shoulder blades, as if he can find mercy there, hidden on the expanse of the elder’s back. 

When Hao leans back, fangs pulled out from the wound with fervor, Hanbin gasps at the frostbite-cold feeling—a distinct loss of warmth, like being tossed into an icebox.

His hand finds the back of Zhang Hao’s head and pulls him back in, close, urging him to reconnect. In some insane, carnal sense, the painful fanged connection was nothing in comparison to this arctic plunge, a numb, fingers-frozen in the winter sensation growing and expanding by the second.

All at once, Hanbin recognizes it. That tingly, numb feeling he’d grown so used to in his limbs—felt like a second act to the horror show here. Every smallest feeling seemed magnified hundreds of times over. But… if that was magnified, then… 

Was the numbness not prelude to the pleasure?

The warmth… hits him like an avalanche. 

It happens just as Hao’s lips brush over his wound, and the sensation of the elder sucking the blood from his veins feels near- divine , all at once a burning heat, and a soothing stream to cool his aching nerves. 

He grasps at the boy’s back once more, but this time—his arms fall down to his waist, tugging their bodies together by any means necessary, grasping at his clothes and body— anything to feel all of his warmth. Hanbin’s brain must be starting to feel the endorphins, adrenaline… or whatever cocktail-mix of feel-good hormones flooded in from the bite. 

“ Ah, ” Hanbin can’t believe his voice betrays him, but a sudden euphoric sensation sends shivers throughout every limb—like his blood is laced with morphine. “ Hao,” he whines, as if he can hold on to the feeling by holding on tightly to the boy.

Perhaps Zhang Hao had been right. The pain was unimaginable—but the pleasure … was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. 

“ Sweet boy,” he hears Hao’s soft, comforting voice whisper against his neck, hands rubbing the younger’s back in encouragement. “ You’re doing wonderfully.” 

Those words alone are enough to send Hanbin into straight-up insanity, and he grows teary-eyed from the sheer amount of duress that puts his stupid heart through. He rests his cheek against the side of Hao’s head as the elder drinks, simply craving to touch any part of him.

He becomes viscerally aware of his own pulse with a wave of ecstasy on every heartbeat, rhythmic and tantalizing. Hanbin just… closes his eyes and curls up into Hao, clinging to the boy’s body warmth like an anchor as the pleasure crescendos to its peak, then slowly climbs down inch by inch, leaving Hanbin feeling both drained and satisfied… like the soreness after a workout.

Hao pulls back, done drinking, and stares down at the scene before him.

Hanbin lays there, leaned against the back of the sofa, with two fang-bored holes on the side of his neck, avoiding the major artery— other than that, it’s all a mess of crimson, blood running every which way, smeared on the skin, dripping down to the shoulders—staining the light fabric of Hanbin’s poor t-shirt.

But Hanbin flutters his eyes open to see Hao, above him, pupils large, and a mess of red coating his lips and chin, dripping down to his neck. He’s the most breathtaking sight in the world. 

Once Hao sees his eyes open, he smiles . That honeyed, beautiful, sharp-canine grin greets Hanbin once again, as Hao—innocent as a viscera-covered fawn, beams down at him.

“Hanbin!” Hao’s eyes are practically crescent moons. “How was it? You okay?”

The younger can’t even find words. Maybe it’s Hao’s playful yet sweet voice, talking cutesy after all of those extremes. Maybe the boy is simply magnetic to him— maybe he always has been, since the beginning… but Hanbin’s brain can only think of one thing.

He reaches up, both hands clumsily finding the back of Hao’s neck, and— 

He presses his mouth to Hao’s in a firm kiss, not caring about the blood, or their shirts, or anything else other than living and breathing through this boy. 

It catches the elder off guard; Hao is frozen for a moment, and that terrifies Hanbin, but… then Zhang Hao’s hands both bury themselves back into Hanbin’s hair, in a grip hold this time, and he kisses him back with fervor , soft lips staining Hanbin’s a cherry red as their breaths grow heavy and their kiss grows heated .

His guess had been right. It does taste metallic, for the briefest moment, before the blood dissipates into the sweet warmth that is Hao. 

When they pull apart, Hao… laughs. It's exhilarated— free . 

And all Hanbin can do is smile, entranced by him; by everything that makes Hao Hao .

Living with a vampire boyfriend isn't easy.

Hanbin’s learned way too much about random biology facts, and he’s become the subject of numerous experiments… yet when he slips into bed with Zhang Hao at the end of the day, all of those things seem trivial. 

Though tonight, of all nights, as he rolls over in bed, he asks: “Hey, love?”

Zhang Hao turns his head from his novel. “Yeah?”

“Back then,” Hanbin recalls. “In our first apartment. Is there a reason you gave me salted caramel? I just realized that I never bought that.”

“Hmm?” Hao thinks. “Oh, during the first kiss bite?”

The younger nods.

“I told you already,” Hao says, like it's obvious. “Your blood’s sweet and savory. I wanted you to know what you taste like to me.”

“Oh,” Hanbin says, seeing his boyfriend roll over and return to sleep. “Okay.”

And then, what he just said fully clicks.

“ Wait, what???” 

Hanbin truly learns something new every day.