Chapter Text
With tears running down his face, In-ho plunged his fangs into Gi-hun’s bared neck, willing and warm…he couldn’t believe he had actually pulled this off. His taste was everything he expected and more; he groaned in utter satisfaction as the thick, hot blood spurted obscenely into his mouth. He grabbed Gi-hun's cropped hair and pulled, tugging his head to the side for more access to the scarlet fountain that was now coating his mouth and tongue, bathing his fangs in the glorious deluge.
The way Gi-hun had offered his neck for the bite…genuinely wanting to help his ‘friend’...it stirred something deep and unknowable in In-ho. The pure trust and selflessness of the act…even with all his manipulation, he hadn’t expected this level of pure compassion. His hypnosis had been weak - even deliberately weaker than he was capable of, just to absolutely ensure the most delicious thing of all to him…his complete consent.
There would be no enjoyment in hunting him down and preying upon him like a beast - but to have your prey weak and loving and offer themselves up to you? Nothing was so poetic.
Gi-hun was whimpering a little beneath him; he had slid down to a lying position under In-ho’s passionate feeding, grasping at In-ho’s back as the venom in his saliva began to work, promptly soothing the pain of the bite into a sweet euphoria, making the taller man shudder and gasp. In-ho smiled into the crook of the other man’s neck, his tongue laving at the wound, deep red streaks trailing from the sides of his mouth onto their shirts. Their proximity and position was beginning to cause friction between them, and certain natural reactions were starting to become apparent, which both men began to lean into as they started gyrating subtly against each other.
Gi-hun’s increasing moans sparked a knot in In-ho’s stomach; with a pit of pleasure building in his groin as they rocked together, their growing erections becoming more palpable with every passing moment. In-ho knew he shouldn’t carry on much longer, if he didn’t want to risk ending the man’s life or causing some serious damage. But he couldn’t stop yet. The twin sensations of his bloodlust being sated so deliciously and the beautifully tender but increasingly desperate dry humping were causing stars to burst in his head. Gi-hun had the most euphoric blood he had ever tasted; syrupy sweet and overpowering, laced with an intensity that was keeping him attached to his flesh for perhaps longer than was safe.
He wanted this to last forever.
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Gi-hun’s entire body was pulsating in time with the man on top of him desperately drinking his blood. Pleasure pulsed from the bite in his neck, from the rhythmic sucking of the mouth around the fangs that were piercing his hot skin, and from the grinding of his cock against Young-il’s, just the thin fabric of their tracksuit bottoms between their rock-hard members. His nails crushed into Young-il’s back, scraping down the length of it, the fog in his mind still hazing over him but every part of his flesh felt alive, ravished and wanted. The hand gripping his hair, the other hand snaking its’ way into his underwear, grasping his leaking cock… it was too much.
The hand fondled the swollen, needy head before pumping his cock in five hard stokes. Not a moment longer and he was messily spilling onto Young-il's talented hand, mouth open in ecstasy and limbs in vibrato as Young-il still drank him through his release. He felt the smaller man follow soon after, grunting and whining into his flesh as he finally finished.
Drawing back, Young-il looked down at him in his ruined form. His neck must have been a mess. He felt the puncture wound oozing with his blood but there was still no pain, only gratification. Young-il’s face was now flushed, cheeks tinged deeply with red circulation, warming his cold skin. His mouth was obscenely stained with thick splats of his blood, and Gi-hun could feel it dripping down onto his stomach. He was aware of the uncomfortable, rapidly cooling stickiness in his pants, and now that Young-il’s teeth were out of him he began to feel the thick haze invading his mind lifting as the other man climbed off him. He was panting heavily and utterly undone, his shirt rumpled and stained, expression purely blissed out, slumping heavily onto the nearby wall. Gi-hun sat up slowly, clamping a hand to the wound on his neck and blinking as the room got lighter and clearer around him.
A weakness hit him like a truck as the blood loss hit his newly restored senses and his eyes rolled backwards, all but passing out cold back onto the sofa beneath him. There was a small thought which formed just before his head went; that he might die. Young-il might have just killed him. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Seeing Young-il looking so lovingly down at him, finally full of life, *his* life in his veins… nothing felt better to him in that moment. He had finally done something good, something useful, given something only he could provide. He felt amazing. *His* blood had done this to that man; had completely unglued him.
He felt complete as the darkness took him.
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In-ho smiled as Gi-hun’s head fell back against the armrest of the sofa they just ravaged, the wetness in his own briefs a testament to the bliss he had just experienced. He felt breathless, weightless and alive. He could hear Gi-hun’s slow but rhythmed heartbeat loud as day - he had stopped just in time. The worst damage would be the scars on his neck; after he awoke and ate something he would be fine. He approached Gi-hun’s beautiful comatose form once more and bent forwards to close his mouth again over the punctures - not to take, but to heal. He kept his mouth attached for a minute or so, and when he pulled back only the welts remained, closed and cleaned.
He stood up and chuckled to himself - lucky that he was the one that made the rules. He had stopped Gi-hun from perishing so far, and he would keep him alive as long as he could keep up this charade. The idea of this man, this sweet man surrendering his body and his blood to him, night after night…it filled In-ho with the deepest excitement. He had marked him, he was his. His bite now adorned his beloved’s flesh. No-one else was ever going to touch him.
And if the day came he couldn’t have him, he would make sure no-one could.