Chapter Text
It hadn’t been a dream.
Joochan knows this because when he wakes up in cold sweat the next morning, blinking away dreams of eyes flashing in the dark and searing pain shooting through his veins, his neck throbs, and the two holes he had felt the day before remain, small but there without a doubt.
Craning his neck, he studies the bite in the mirror, debating whether he should cover it up. The area around the bite is tender to the touch, bruised a subtle purple, and the collar of his sweatshirt isn’t quite high enough to conceal it completely, leaving just the slightest bit poking out. He doubts anyone pays enough attention to him to take notice of it.
Thumbing the holes, he presses against the bite gently. It’s no surprise when sharp pain bursts from it—it serves as a reminder of the white-hot pain, the powerlessness which had coursed through him the night before, when he had been held against the wall and fangs had dug into the tender skin of his neck.
It had not been pain and helplessness alone that had blazed through him. No, even now, the memory of what could have only been pleasure remains a faint echo, sending goosebumps peppering down his skin and a shudder up his spine, as is the image of his assaulter: eyes wild in the night, Joochan’s blood dripping from his lips.
Choi Sungyoon.
Even after he had thought it over and over, he’d struggled to pick out something that would tip him off, confirm it hadn't been Sungyoon. The eyes, the planes of his face, the voice: they were all pieces of the puzzle called Sungyoon, and with a sinking feeling in his gut, he had accepted it.
It had been Choi Sungyoon in the alley last night, draping his chest over Joochan’s back, pressing his hungry mouth against his neck, it had been him who had left this bite on the side of his neck, still stinging even now. Joochan drops his hand from his neck with a shiver.
The reason Choi Sungyoon is impossible to look away from, the reason why every individual who comes across him is so taken by him…
An alarm goes off and Joochan startles, cursing—it’s coming from his phone. He should be out of his apartment by now!
Thoughts of Choi Sungyoon and his supernatural tendencies a secondary concern, Joochan wrestles himself into his sweatshirt and hops into his shoes, rushing out the door, all his worries about the stinging at his neck pushed to the back of his mind.
For the rest of the day, his head stays blissfully free of any musings of Sungyoon. It’s only when the day is drawing to an end and he’s hurrying from his Psychology class to his History class does it creep back up. He pulls up short at the door, suddenly afraid.
This class—it’s the class he shares with Sungyoon. Unconsciously, his hand crawls up to his neck, clamping over the bite there.
Sungyoon, who is a vampire.
It’s not the realization that supernatural creatures such as vampires do exist that has apprehension seizing Joochan, although it may be a part of it. Distantly, he wonders, do other creatures exist as well? Werewolves? Ghosts? Perhaps even fairies?
Those are things to ponder over later. The matter at hand is that Joochan’s classmate, the university’s most sought-after student, is a vampire. A vampire who had fed on Joochan, sucking out enough to render him light-headed and dizzy, unable to move for a while. If the other is capable of that, then he is surely capable of sucking Joochan dry until he’s gray and limp.
His hand clutches his neck tighter. In the heat of the moment, he’d blurted out the other’s name in shock and surprise. Now, he sees the idiocy of doing so. Now, Sungyoon knows someone recognizes him and knows his secret, knows that someone is quite certainly a student attending his college.
Possibly knows that someone is Joochan, and there’s no telling what lengths Sungyoon is willing to go to preserve his true identity.
Someone clears his throat from behind him and his heart leaps to his throat—for one, frightening moment, he thinks it’s Sungyoon before he catches sight of who’s standing before him—the two girls whose seats are in front of him and who had tried to make friends with him earlier during the semester. Mumbling an apology, he shuffles to the side, too caught up in his troubled thoughts to notice the dirty looks they throw in his direction as they hurry past him.
Inhaling a shaky breath, he tries to reason with himself, going over the possibilities. It’s entirely possible Sungyoon hadn’t recognized him; after all, Joochan is essentially invisible in this class, a mere shadow when he moves from place to place.
Besides, nearly everyone on this campus is familiar with Sungyoon, and the campus is big. Assuming Sungyoon hadn’t recognized him, the only clues Sungyoon has to go off on is that Joochan is male, and possibly the sound of his voice.
Joochan has only spoken a total of four times in the class since the beginning of the semester, and he highly doubts Sungyoon will be able to recognize him out of the thousands of students on the campus. With renewed conviction, he rests a hand on the door handle, fingers curling around the metal.
It’s all up to his desperate hopes that Sungyoon had failed to catch a glimpse of his face before he had dashed off.
Just open it, he tells himself. That is all he needs to do. Push open the door like he has every day for the past semester, walk to his seat in the back of the class and take a seat. Everything will be the same as it always has been, and Sungyoon won’t realize his victim had been Joochan.
Everything will be the same, he repeats to himself, as if the more he says it, the more it will come to life. Gathering himself, he pushes open the door, and everything is exactly the same-
He can feel it.
Slowly, he raises his eyes, and they meet with dark, steely-cold ones.
He knows.
Joochan’s hopes fade away into blank space. Sungyoon knows exactly who it had been in the alley last night.
It feels like he’s drowning, his lungs filling up with water. As if petals are nestling themself into his throat, choking him, suffocating him, as if someone is banging on a piano, pressing all the wrong notes. The bite on his neck seems to burn.
His heart slams against his ribcage, demanding to be set free. Joochan tears his eyes away from Sungyoon’s. Every step he takes feels like the wrong one and somehow, he makes it to his seat in the back of the class, fingers trembling as he rests them on his desk, chest heaving as if he’s been underwater and pulled to dry land.
Sungyoon knows, and Joochan’s already blurry future seems to grow more hazy and unclear with every second Sungyoon’s gaze lingers on him. Dozens of scenarios rush through his head, all tapering off forebodingly into black. He gulps.
He wonders if he’ll mysteriously disappear off campus, maybe be found weeks later ashy-faced and face-down in the gutter, neck torn open. Doctors and officials alike would puzzle over his dead body for weeks, and finally, conclude it had been the work of wild dogs. Citizens and students would lament over what a pity it is such a young boy had been robbed of their youth and their “bright future,” and Joochan would be mourned over for a few days before the people found a more interesting piece of news to focus on.
Although, perhaps he shouldn’t give himself more worth than he is. Joochan’s name is hardly known by people, let alone for him to be mourned over.
It’s nothing surprising, and Joochan prefers it that way: to be left to his own devices. He’s fine with not being missed, not being acknowledged, quietly living out his university years, so…
Why does he have to be the fly caught up in Choi Sungyoon’s spider web?
That’s what he is at the moment, with cold sweat clinging to his neck and Sungyoon continuing to scrutinize him: prey. A fly, flailing around in a sticky web, with the piercing eyes of its spider on him. He hunches over his desk further, sinks into his seat lower.
Sooner or later, he’ll have to face Sungyoon, and his future is unknown until that checkpoint is hit. An image flashes in his head—Sungyoon stepping up to him, eyes glinting cruelly, nearly manically, lips pulled back into a snarl, exposing the point of a shining, white tooth-
He tries to push away the panic building up in his chest, focusing on the notebook in his hand. The scrawl of black words is a blur, the letters swimming into each other, twisting, writhing like snakes.
Sooner or later, he’ll have to face Sungyoon. And it’s entirely possible he won’t come out of it unscathed. He exhales, picks up his pencil with a shaky hand, forcing his fingers to steady. He presses the point to the paper.
The sharp point of the pencil gives out from the pressure he’s pressing it to paper with and splinters apart, graphite spilling across paper.
His mouth feels as if it has been stuffed full of ash. His eyes are too dry as he stares, stiff and frozen.
Joochan had known it was inevitable Sungyoon would approach him eventually and his days were numbered. But…
But…
He hadn’t predicted for the other to jump into action this quickly.
Up until a moment ago, he had somehow successfully distracted himself from Sungyoon by writing out the finer details of the lesson, jotting down bullet points and furrowing his brow as he tried to find the deeper connection between it and the topics of his final paper. He’d been so engrossed he hadn’t noticed how the class had fallen deadly silent until he had set his pencil down (which, to his distaste, is now flat at the point and writing out fat, smudgy letters) and the sound had rung throughout the classroom.
Click.
Joochan blinks. Has everyone already left their seats? But he hadn’t heard any of the telltale signs of class reaching an end, none of the screeching of chairs and the scuffling of sneakers and boots. Most tended to linger for minutes after the lecture, whether it be to catch up and chatter with friends, exchange thoughts with their study partners, quietly discuss matters with the professor, or, as most did, make a stab at catching Choi Sungyoon’s attention.
No sooner does the name cross his mind, someone steps up to Joochan’s desk, jostling the things there. His pencil rolls off the desk, hitting the floor with a sharp sound. Joochan frowns. Who-
He looks up, only to pause halfway. All at once, he understands.
Why the classroom has grown silent enough to hear even the drop of a pencil, the hushed whispers in his direction, reminiscent of high school, and he’s growing aware of it now—the dozens of eyes on him, drilling into his back.
Joochan doesn’t want to look up the rest of the way. It means he’ll have to acknowledge—this, whatever this is, come to terms with the bite marking up the side of his neck. It’s throbbing again, deep and painful.
“Hey.” He doesn’t think he’s ever heard Sungyoon speak to him, other than the hunger-filled words hissed into his ear the night before. He has… a nice voice, Joochan supposes. Low and calm, every word short and sure, as if he’s conveying a fact.
Look up—he should look up, shouldn’t he? The whispers have grown tenfold, all most likely murmuring about why Choi Sungyoon had gotten out of his seat to speak to—oh, who is it again? Jonghyun? John? No, Joochan.
Joochan gulps and looks up.
Sungyoon is leaning over him, a hand balanced on Joochan’s desk. He’s as dazzling as ever, all hooded eyes and sharp angles and pale skin. For a moment, Joochan’s mind flashes to the night before, to Sungyoon pinning him against the wall, pressing his mouth to his neck-
Joochan swallows and Sungyoon doesn’t miss the movement, eyes tracking down to his throat. And then lower, lower, shifting down to his—shit . He’s staring at the smudge of purple flowering on his skin, a clear giveaway. Fuck! He should have at least bothered to try and hide it better! A bandage, a scarf, even a dabble of concealer—how could he have been so careless?
Sungyoon’s eyes rise back to Joochan’s, and there it is: confirmation glinting in his eyes. Joochan had had the chance to escape the other’s notice, but because of his stupidity-
How could he have been so careless?
There’s no chance for him to regret his negligence because Sungyoon’s lips are parting and Joochan’s looking for it without realizing—a flash of silver. There’s nothing. His attention is torn away as Sungyoon speaks.
“You-”
No, no, no. He can’t do it, not so quickly. He’s hardly registered the fact the other is a vampire, he can’t-
He leaps to his feet, taking even Sungyoon by surprise. Joochan’s hand closes around his backpack, mind racing. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, his thoughts too muddled to formulate a plan. All he knows is he needs to get away from Sungyoon.
The words come out of his mouth in a rush, garbled and nonsensical. “Look at that! My brother-in-law's friend's father's grandmother's sister's aunt's turtle died!” He nods at Sungyoon, who looks mystified. “Yes, it was a tragic death. If you’ll excuse me…”
With that, he slings his pack over his shoulder and he’s darting through the desks, rushing out the door. Muttered remarks follow him as students back away from his path, all of them falling on deaf ears.
He needs to get far, far from Sungyoon. It doesn’t matter where his feet lead him, as long as it’s away.
They end up leading him to the local coffee shop, where he collapses heavily onto the nearest seat. He’s panting heavily, his bangs sticking to his forehead. A few passersby shoot him strange looks, but no one bothers to question him.
His hand finds its way back to the bite, pressing against it as if it’ll make it disappear. It burns, the heat spreading to his cheeks, throbbing in his head. Is it possible to get a fever from a vampire’s bite? Joochan doesn’t know. He sure hopes not.
A waiter approaches him and it takes Joochan three tries at speaking before he’s able to order, settling for a chilled raspberry tea before realizing its color is far too close to that of blood for comfort and switching it to peach. His eyes dart to the window now and then, as if expecting to see Sungyoon strolling down the streets in his direction.
Burying his fingers into his hair, he hunches over in his seat as he sips on the peach tea. It’s pleasantly cool, a stark contrast to the heat simmering to a boil inside of him.
What is he doing? He doesn’t know. All his life, he’s stayed crouched in the shadows, and now all of a sudden, he’s been dragged out of the darkness and rudely thrown into the spotlight. His eyes water and he ducks his head, blinking away the sudden tears pricking in his eyes.
The waiter looks over at him worryingly. “Are you okay, sir?”
No, Joochan wants to say. I’m not. There’s a vampire after me and all of a sudden, the world I’ve stayed hidden in is crumbling apart.
Instead, he looks up and offers the other a tight smile. “It’s fine, thank you.”
It’s fine, not I’m fine.
Somehow, he manages to scrape the leftover dredges of his courage back together and return to the university the next day, a restless stutter to his step and fingers twitching on the straps of his backpack. He takes shelter in the library almost immediately, where it’s blissfully empty in the early morning.
There’s no reason for Sungyoon to be here now, but still, Joochan looks around himself nervously, expecting to see the dark-haired boy exiting the shelves at any moment. But there’s no one there, other than him and the occasional student.
Don’t be paranoid, he tells himself, forcing his limbs to relax. Why would Sungyoon be in the library this early in the morning?
Minutes tick by and then eventually an hour and finally, Joochan’s worries fade away as he meticulously takes notes and pores over his studies. Even that finishes and he shuts his laptop, checking the time. Plenty of time before class—enough to pick out a book and get in some reading.
He takes to the shelves marked with “fiction," eying the line of books as he debates which to pick. He’s never been the biggest fan of horror, and just last week, he’d spent sobbing over a romance novel. His eyes fall onto a mystery book, with ghosts and vampires—absolutely not. He looks away from it, stomach churning. Fantasy it is then.
It’s set on the highest shelf and if Joochan had been any shorter, it would have been a hassle to reach. Luckily, he’s just of height, craning his neck and reaching up to tig the book off the shelf-
His fingers have hardly brushed against the spine of the book and someone else beats him to it, an impossibly smooth and meticulously manicured hand shooting out to snag the book off the shelf. A noise of surprise escapes Joochan. It’s quick to morph into annoyance because it’s clear he had been trying to get it!
He has half the mind to turn and tell off whoever it is who had rudely stolen the book right from under his nose, but it’s overrun by the mere thought of even trying to strike up an argument. Joochan has had his fair share of attempting to stand up for himself, and none of them had gone well. The memories themselves make him wince.
He’s snapped out of his thoughts as to his great surprise, the book is thrust in his direction. Blinking, he reaches out to take it on instinct. So the other had been just lending him a helping hand? He suddenly feels embarrassed for reacting so strongly, even though all of it had been in his head.
“Thanks-” He starts, turning to face his helper-
-and immediately screeches to a stop.
Sungyoon is standing before him, cocking a brow in his direction. Joochan’s hand is still frozen midway to Sungyoon’s, where the other holds out the book.
Why-
Every nerve in his body is telling him to throw it all out the window and run, but Sungyoon is holding the book he wants.
Somehow, he manages to jam the switch of his flight-or-flight instinct and force a smile. “Um.” His voice is thick and rough. “Thank you,” he says, unfreezing his hand to reach out and take the book.
Just as his fingers close around it, it jerks out of his grasp. Strange. He tries to take it again and once again, Sungyoon moves it out of his reach. Joochan frowns, looking up. “What-?”
“I need to talk to you,” Sungyoon says, jaw set and blank expression giving nothing away. Joochan screeches to a stop, staring at him in horror.
Oh, God, no. He should have run while he had the chance. Surely, the other won’t try anything here in broad daylight, with students roaming around, would he?
Except-
It's early in the morning, most of the campus still deserted. Which means only a handful of students are milling around in the library now, not to mention how they are at the far end of the library, where it’s empty of anyone. If Sungyoon tries anything—he can get away with it easily.
A scream crawls up Joochan’s throat and he pushes it down. His eyes flicker from Sungyoon’s face to around them, searching for all possible exits. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammers out, desperately wracking his mind for an excuse. “I’m rather b-busy, so I’m afraid I need to…” He makes another swipe at the book, Sungyoon stepping back in one fluid motion.
“I’m sure it can wait,” Sungyoon says sharply, and another wave of panic crashes over Joochan. This is not going well. He needs to leave. “Because this is important, and I have to talk to you.”
Important. Joochan is certain he means the two holes at the side of his neck, because what else would Sungyoon want to talk to him about? Sungyoon’s words do nothing to quell his fear, if anything, it heightens it.
Mustering up his strongest mask of defiance, he makes a move to leave. “No, I have to-” Almost instantly, he’s cut off because Sungyoon is stepping closer, forcing him back. His back smacks against the shelf and it’s a wonder none of the books are knocked off.
He can’t breathe, can’t stop the shaking of his limbs as Sungyoon leans in close, expression-entirely-business like. He’s essentially pinned against the bookshelves and if he dares to even shift, he’ll surely brush against Sungyoon. The tiniest whimper falls from his lips and he stiffens as Sungyoon’s eyes flicker to his and the bite burns-
“Sungyoon!” The shout pierces the muted silence and Sungyoon’s head jerks to the side, focus dropping away.
An opening!
Joochan doesn’t hesitate, tackling the chance with both hands—in one motion, he’s snatching the book out of Sungyoon’s hand and turning around. His ankle nearly twists from how fast he’s moving, but it’s only a secondary concern.
Sungyoon only gets the chance to let out a noise of surprise and Joochan is breaking out into a run, bolting out the shelves and through the library like a frightened rabbit.
There’s a distant shout of “wait!” followed by a curse, but he doesn’t stick around long enough to catch anything else, all his attention on escaping.
His legs ache as he runs and runs, face flushed from exertion but he doesn’t dare to stop. It’s only when he’s a safe distance from the library and the rush of adrenaline drains out of him does he finally slow down, doubling over as he struggles to catch his breath.
He’s been doing quite a lot of that lately—running away. Namely, from Sungyoon.
His breathing slows as he wobbles and takes a seat on the ground, dazed as he stares open-mouthed at the sky. A small smile twitches at his lips and then it grows and grows until he’s grinning maniacally.
He’s done it! He had successfully escaped Sungyoon! Sure, it may have been pure luck, but he’d pulled it off! It had been a close call—Lady Luck had taken pity on him and smiled his way. Now all he has to do is-
The smile fades away as a grim realization creeps up on him.
All he has to do… is continue avoiding the other. And he has a sinking feeling he’s used up all of his luck on today.
He’s not sure how long he’ll be able to hold out.
Staying out of Sungyoon’s path proves to be strangely more difficult than he had expected it to be, because after their encounter in the library, suddenly, the other seems to be everywhere.
In the library, lurking by the shelves Joochan coincidentally frequents on a regular basis, and Sungyoon is in the library enough times that Joochan regretfully stops showing up to study there, opting instead for an abandoned classroom, or, as he had in one especially unlucky time, the bathroom stall.
In the cafeteria, looking unimpressed as yet another girl attempts to chat him up. Joochan pulls the strings of his hood tight and snatches the first sandwich he sees, taking refuge in the outer grounds of the university.
In the classroom, where his heady gaze doesn’t leave Joochan. Joochan keeps his head bowed, determinedly staring at the lines of his palms as if they contain the secrets of the universe. He doesn’t dare to look up at Sungyoon, lest the bite at his neck flare-up. It seems to do whenever he’s within Sungyoon’s vicinity, throbbing insistently, and it doesn’t seem to be healing either; even after days of ointments and bandages, the bite is just as tender and raw as the first he’d been bitten. At a loss for how to get it to heal, Joochan had settled for ignoring it and avoiding touching it, just as he’s avoiding Sungyoon.
Even in the restrooms, he can’t escape Sungyoon, opening the stall door to find the other scrutinizing himself in the mirror and he immediately freezes, petrified. Praying the other hasn’t taken notice of him, he steps back into the stall as quietly as he can, shutting the door. He stays there, sitting on the lid of the toilet until he’s certain the other is gone, peeking out to inspect his surroundings before tiptoeing out.
These brushes far too close for comfort, happening one too many times to be coincidental, have Joochan on high alert all day long, his skin prickling and leg jiggling anxiously. The slightest sound in the silence had him jumping, and once a student had leaned forward to ask him a question and he’d reacted so violently he’d sent the desk crashing.
It’s safe to say she hadn’t tried to talk to him again.
Walking back to his apartment at night is an entirely different situation. If he’s anxious during the day, in the darkness of the night, his heart races a mile a minute and his leg muscles stay tightened, ready to break out into a run any moment. Even if it won’t help him in any way, his phone stays clutched in his hand, 112 dialed in. His thumb hovers over the green button as he scampers across the dark streets, ready to press it at a moment’s notice.
All of this: the encounters, the uneasiness, the constant checking over his shoulders, coupled with keeping up with his studies and his part-time jobs and no one to release all his worries to, have him stretched thin, vibrating like a tightly-pulled string. He doesn't know how long he’ll be able to hold out; there’s no telling when he’ll snap apart, what will be the scissors to snap his string in two.
But he has to keep up with it, no matter how much he struggles, because slowing down is not worth the risk of what might happen if Sungyoon catches up to him.
He continues to run and hide, tail tucked between his legs, the string of his rationality tightening further and further and threatening to snap apart with every day that passes.
Fuck. For the nth time, Joochan digs through the contents of his bag, gnashing his teeth. In a rare moment of indifference, he had settled in the library to work on his research paper, pulling out all his reference materials and notes, ready to get to work. He’d reached into his bag for his phones and earphones to plug his ears with music, except where his phone had been, his hand had closed around empty air.
At first, he’d thought he’d misplaced it, or maybe stuck his hand in the wrong pocket. One quick look over confirmed that no, he had not misplaced it—it simply isn’t there.
Hushed curses leave him as he frantically checks the pockets all over again as if he’ll stumble upon a place he hadn’t checked and find it lying there innocently, but there’s no such luck. His chest tightens, hands beginning to shake as he shoves them in yet another time. He’d spent the entirety of his high school years working and saving up to buy his phone. If he loses it now… There’s no way he’ll be able to shuffle together cash for a new one, not with how he’s already struggling to buy himself his basic necessities and pay rent for his apartment.
Calm down. He stops, inhaling deeply. It does little to appease the panic building in his chest as he attempts to gather his thoughts.
Okay. The last time he remembers using it is… He’d been hurrying from the restrooms to his Psychology class… And then he’d… No, wait. It had been the cafeteria he’d been hurrying away from, to…
In a sudden moment of clarity, his mind clears. He’d been on it in his History class! Yes!
Not wasting any time, he yanks his backpack over a shoulder, hastening toward where the classroom is located, pushing away unwanted, intrusive thoughts that whisper the possibility of not finding his phone.
It’s a relief the class is located in the same building as the library he is, and in no time he’s reached the door, pushing it open.
His eyes fall onto his desk first, in the far corner of the room. Relief floods Joochan as he takes in the sight of his phone lying face-down on his desk innocently. Thank God-
There’s the sound of a throat being cleared just as Joochan moves to take a step, and he startles so badly he nearly jumps out of his skin, head whipping towards-
On the first desk in the room, seated there languidly as if it’s home, straw dangling from his lips, is Sungyoon in all his glory. His expression is slack with surprise, clearly taken aback by Joochan’s sudden entrance. Joochan freezes in his tracks.
There’s a juice box clutched in his hand, speckled in orange. Joochan’s gaze shifts downwards, to the straw puncturing it. A wave of nausea rolls over him as he stares at the juice as it travels up the clear straw. It’s a deep, ruby red.
His eyes move back up to Sungyoon’s eyes, and suddenly, his phone is the least of his concerns.
Resisting the urge to wipe his suddenly-clammy hands on his pants, Joochan wracks his mind. Something—he needs to say something. Anything, to get out of this situation.
His lips twitch into a nervous smile, and he hopes it comes off less and forced as it feels. “K-ketchup?” Is what he stammers out, eyes trained on a droplet of red staining Sungyoon’s lips, throat dry as a pink tongue darts out the lick it and there it is—the flash of silver he’d been looking for all along.
A terrible, horrifying feeling begins to unfurl itself in his stomach.
Sungyoon looks—Joochan can’t figure out how he looks. There’s something that looks like amusement dancing in his eyes as he nods, slowly. His gaze doesn’t leave Joochan’s.
Joochan takes a step back, his shoulder brushing against the door frame. A nervous chuckle escapes him. “Oh. I-I hope you enjoy.”
The other still hasn’t looked away. Tentatively, Joochan takes another step back, ready to-
Sungyoon’s chair emits a shrill shriek as it’s pushed back and Joochan bolts.
Air whistles past his ears as he tears down the hallways, feet slapping against the floor, hard enough he’s sure they’ll be stinging later. His lungs struggle to keep up with him, reeling at the sudden burst and begging for him to slow down, but there’s no time to rest, not with Sungyoon hardly a step behind him.
“Hold on!” The shout falls on deaf ears, the sounds of Joochan’s frenzied heart slamming against his chest drowning them out. His mind is only focused on one goal, filtering out all his senses.
Get away.
He grabs a hold of a railing and curves round it fluidly, soaring down a flight of stairs, nearly missing a step and going flailing. The wall opposite him is what saves him, jaw slamming against it. Ouch. There definitely will be a bruise there later, but he can worry about it later. What matters now is to run.
“Would you just stop for a moment-”
In his mind, Joochan frantically maps out the school. There is another flight of stairs he’ll have to go down to reach the closest exit. If he can just get there-
Students emit surprised screeches and gasps as he barrels through the hallways, jumping out his path, lest they be mowed over. Surprised exclamations fill the air, all tinged with surprise, annoyance, or both.
“What the-”
“What’s up with him?”
“Isn’t that-”
He skids to a stop as he reaches the stairs, a gleeful smile making its way over his face. He’s made it! All he needs to do now is-
A hand curls itself into his hoodie and yanks back-
And Joochan’s losing his balance, a gasp forcing itself out of him and he’s falling, falling, faces and the ceiling blurring before his eyes as he tips backward and-
Crashes against a solid chest, an arm wrapping around his waist and pulling him up. Instantly, a rush of warmth floods Joochan’s body, overwhelming and sudden as every part that’s pressed together is suddenly alight, just as it had been days ago. It takes everything in him to resist sagging against the body and have his legs give out.
The chest vibrates against him and Joochan looks up. Sungyoon scowls down at him. “Stop causing a scene,” Sungyoon hisses, and Joochan’s eyes widen but he does as he’s told, going still in his grip. “Finally.” With the younger secure in his grip and no chance of him running away, Sungyoon looks up, smiling serenely at the crowd which had gathered to witness the chase. Immediately, a chorus of gasps and stunned whispers rise from the crowd.
“Smiling! He’s-!”
“Isn’t this the first time he’s smiled?”
“I already knew he was handsome, but when he smiles-”
“If you’ll excuse us,” Sungyoon says, polite smile still on his face. “We have some business to attend to.” At that, the tiniest tremble seizes Joochan.
Business? He’s going to be murdered! Erased off the face of the Earth! Never to be seen again!
Desperately, he tries to catch someone’s eyes, maybe plead for help with his face, but everyone’s focus is on Sungyoon, fawning over his face. Joochan slumps back as he’s dragged off, accepting his impending doom.
Sungyoon drags him down the stairs, silent all the way. His grasp on Joochan is still firm if not slightly loosened, but it does nothing to lessen the tingle that dances down Joochan’s skin with every brush against him. This isn’t good.
Finally, they reach the very last stairwell and Sungyoon lets go, nearly shoving him against the wall. Joochan stumbles away. He has half the mind to run, but he doesn’t quite trust his legs at the moment, not as he grips to the wall for leverage.
“It wasn’t ketchup.” Joochan’s head jerks up from where he had been trying (and failing) to collect himself.
“What?”
“What I was drinking. It wasn’t ketchup,” Sungyoon repeats, slowly as if he’s spelling out words for a child. He looks up, eyes boring into Joochan’s. “And… It was you.”
Joochan pales, elbows pressing themselves to his side. He hates that he knows exactly what Sungyoon is talking about, far too well. Disappointment runs over him. He had expected for Sungyoon to know after all, but some deep, irrational part of him had hoped he hadn’t.
“I…” he swallows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A tense silence follows his blatant lie, Sungyoon staring at him. Joochan attempts to stare back unflinchingly, giving up quickly and diverting his eyes to his shoes. “You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Joochan shakes his head.
“Are you sure?” Another shake of his head. Sungyoon cocks his head, lips pursing. “That’s strange. I could’ve sworn…”
Had he… Had he bought it? No way. Joochan pleads to his face to remain blank as Sungyoon hums, almost thoughtfully.
“But then…” Before Joochan can even react, Sungyoon’s reaching over, pulling the collar of his hoodie to the side, exposing the skin there. “What’s this?”
Shit! The bite! He’d completely forgotten about it!
It’s as if he’s unable to move, rooted to spot as Sungyoon’s fingers trail over his skin, circling the bruise. And then it’s pressing against it, and he snaps back into focus, smacking away Sungyoon’s hand and clapping a hand over his neck.
Dozens of excuses run through his head: a bug bite? No, they are far too deep for that. He’d accidentally nicked himself? It can work, but the laziness in the excuse gives it away. What can he possibly-
“It’s from sex!” He blurts out in one breath and his heart plummets to his stomach the moment they leave his mouth.
Sungyoon stares at him. He’s not even trying to hide his surprise, eyebrows shooting up and going temporarily speechless. Joochan stares back, face burning.
“Sex.”
Red-faced, Joochan nods, this one jerkier than the rest. Sungyoon stares at him a little more before he narrows his eyes.
“You don’t even have any friends,” Sungyoon says calmly. “Why would you have sex? Try again.”
It’s Joochan’s turn to be rendered speechless, eyes bulging.
Had he… Had Sungyoon just…
“Y-you-!” He’s at a loss for words as he sputters, mouth impossible to close. Sungyoon watches him in mild amusement.
“There’s no point in trying to lie,” he continues. “I can smell you.”
Smell-
So from the very start, Joochan had been doomed? He’d spent all this time running away and hiding for no reason? “I’m sorry!” He squeaks out, trying to put distance between him and Sungyoon. It ultimately fails, his back hitting the wall. This time, there are no books in danger of falling.
Sungyoon sighs as if this is a hassle, and Joochan’s stomach lurches. “Listen, you can’t tell anyone,” he starts, and Joochan nods so hard his chin drives itself into his chest as he babbles assurances.
“I won’t, I swear I won’t, not a soul-”
A frown creases Sungyoon’s face as he casts a look over Joochan who’s still jabbering away, his shaking limbs. He rests a firm hand on Joochan’s shoulder, and the other goes stock still. “Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you. I didn’t think it hurt that bad.”
Joochan pulls up short, wide eyes focusing on Sungyoon. “You… won’t?”
The frown on his face deepens even further. “I don’t know where you got the idea that I’ll hurt you-”
Oh, I don’t know! Joochan wants to scream. Maybe because you’ve been eying me like a hunk of meat and stalking me like a predator to prey at every chance!
“-but I won’t lay a finger on you. That night…” He winces as if the memory is unpleasant. “Was a fluke. I don’t usually… lose my head like that.”
“B-but then-” Joochan’s mind races. Why had Sungyoon been so dead set in tracking him down? Why did he go out of his way to track down Joochan?
A grin quirks the corner of Sungyoon’s lips, curling into a cruel smirk as he leans even closer, Joochan scampering back. He’s nearly flat against the wall now, and if Sungyoon dares to calm any closer, he’s not sure if he’ll be able to control how his body reacts. “Although,” Sungyoon starts slyly, “if you don’t keep your pretty mouth shut, I might have to bite you again. And you don’t want that happening, do you?”
Of course, he doesn’t! Why would he-
Heat bursting in his body. Overwhelming euphoria. Skin pressed against his own, teeth piercing into his neck-
“T-that doesn’t sound like the worst,” Joochan mumbles. The admission is so quiet, it almost escapes Sungyoon’s notice.
Almost.
Sungyoon raises a brow. “What was that?”
Too late, Joochan realizes that perhaps, he should have kept his mouth shut. “What?”
Playing it dumb doesn’t work and Sungyoon’s still staring at him, and Joochan can see the moment the pieces fit together. A little noise escapes him, morphing into a snort. Joochan watches on, flinching back. “So I wasn’t wrong after all. You did enjoy it.”
Joochan flushes. “I-”
“You’re one of those weirdos, then?” Sungyoon says, nodding his way. Joochan frowns.
“Weirdos?”
Sungyoon gestures vaguely. “You know. Pain. Ropes. Chains. That type.”
Pain? Ropes? Chains? Every word only serves to have him grown even more confused, eyebrows squishing him together.
Then it hits him.
Sungyoon thinks-
A deep embarrassment festers in him and if he’d been having difficulty looking the other in the eye before, it is absolute torture now as heat floods his body. “Of course not! I would never be into-”
“But you did enjoy it, didn’t you?” Sungyoon inquires, and Joochan shrivels under the other’s intense gaze.
Enjoy… Being bitten…
It’s something he had avoided thinking about; the process of the actual bite, because every time he did, he would be led to the same mortifying conclusion: he had, indeed, enjoyed it. The ecstasy the bite had given him, the pain and aching, he’d taken a sick pleasure in it, and even now, he feels shameful thinking of it.
Although, the bite had only played a minor role. No, what it had really been had been the contact between him and Sungyoon, the other’s body pressed against his…
He averts his gaze even further, heat creeping up his ears now. “No…” He dares to glance at Sungyoon.
His hands are stuffed in his pockets as he eyes Joochan, lip quirked in a fashion that’s a dead giveaway to the fact that he’s unimpressed. He runs a calculating eye over Joochan, who squirms even more.
“Hm…” Joochan jerks back as Sungyoon suddenly leans forward, head bowing down into his neck.
“What are you-” Sungyoon’s breath ghosts his skin and Joochan loses whatever train thought he had been on because Sungyoon is so, so close, lips a breath away from his neck. Another puff of air brushes against his collarbone and Joochan screws his eyes shut. A shudder runs up his spine as he flattens himself impossible more against the wall, a whimper escaping his lips and-
And it’s gone. The breath against his neck, the close proximity. Instead, there’s a chuckle and Joochan’s eyes crack open, peering at the other in confusion.
There’s an air of self-satisfaction around Sungyoon as he looks at Joochan. “No?”
He’s fallen headfirst into Sungyoon’s trap.
“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a bit of pain,” Sungyoon says, and oh, he’s definitely enjoying this, if the way his face is alight with mischief is any indicator. “We all like to keep our lives interesting, after all…”
His body feels too hot, his throat too dry. Sungyoon has it all wrong—Joochan’s not into the pain. “That’s not it!” It comes out louder than he had intended it to and he winces, shrinking as Sungyoon pinpoints him with another incredulous look.
“Then?”
“It’s—it’s not about the pain,” he says, lowering his voice until it’s hardly more than a whisper. “It’s… Um…” He hangs his head, refusing to look the other in the eye. “The… The touch.”
Sungyoon doesn’t answer, and somehow that’s worse than being mocked. The other must be realizing that while Joochan is not that sort of weirdo, he definitely is a weirdo. Feebly, he begins to inch away.
“I-I’ll go now-” He squeaks to a stop as Sungyoon’s arm shoots out, fingers wrapping around his arm to stop him.
“Wait, hold on.” Sungyoon’s face is pinched in deep concentration as if he’s thinking over something.
“I won’t tell anyone, I swear-”
“No, it’s not that.”
Sungyoon squints at him, at his face, the bruise at his neck (Joochan’s hand self-consciously jumps up to cover it yet again). Rakes a hand through his hair. Sighs. Squints at him a bit more. Repeats the cycle, and all the while Joochan worries he’ll use the blood circulation in his arm if Sungyoon doesn’t let go of him soon.
“Okay,” Sungyoon finally says, and Joochan casts him a questioning look. “I got it. Let’s make a deal.”
Had he heard that right? He resists pinching himself. “What? A deal? With… With me?” Sungyoon glances around.
“Well, don’t see anyone else around here, do you?” He quips, and Joochan blushes. Alright, maybe that had been a stupid question. “Yes, a deal. You-” He points at Joochan. “I’ll help you fulfill your weird fetish-”
“I don’t have a fetish!” Joochan protests vehemently, going ignored.
“In return, I bite you. Bagged blood has been getting rather stale as of late anyway.” The words are tossed out bluntly as if Sungyoon is asking for Joochan to help him out with homework, and not— not to feed off of him.
Joochan presses his hands to his ears, checking if he’s heard correctly. There is no way the other had just said what he had thought he said. “You want me… to be your food.”
“If you word it like that, it sounds strange,” Sungyoon scoffs. “All it is-” He flicks his wrist, “-is an exchange of favors. We both have things we need to be fulfilled and can provide them to each other at once. Two birds with one stone. Only a fool wouldn’t take advantage of it.” He jerks his chin towards Joochan. “What do you say?”
“That’s…”
Preposterous. Crazy. Strange. Agreeing to be bit? To be fed on? By a vampire, who can most certainly suck him dry if he wished? Only someone insane would take the risk and agree.
No, that’s what he’s going to say. Even if Sungyoon’s touch had set fire to his skin, even if he had him melting into oblivion, even if it left him feeling better than he had in days. It doesn’t matter.
Sungyoon’s hovering before him, looking at him expectantly. Joochan clutches at the straps of his bag.
No.
“I’ll think about it,” he says.
Well, Joochan has always been a little insane.
Sungyoon makes a noise at the back of his throat, a mixture of disapproval and agitation. “What’s there to think about? I get my food, you get off to it-”
Blood rushes to his cheeks and in a rare rush of boldness, he opens his mouth. “For the last time, I don’t get off to it,” he snaps, glaring, although it doesn’t seem to have any effect on Sungyoon whatsoever. He pulls his straps even closer. “I’ll think about it.”
With that, he’s turning on his heel before Sungyoon can get even a word in, trudging away. The other doesn’t call him back.
It’s only when he gets an appropriate distance from Sungyoon does he stop in his tracks, sinking to his knees and burying his face into his hands. An excited tingle flutters in his stomach and he feels nauseous as he replays their conversation in his head—somehow, in a good way.
He had been the one to get the last word into their conversation, but strangely, it feels as if he’s the one who has lost. And he knows exactly why.
There’s no need to think about it any further: he knows his answer to Sungyoon’s proposal.