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There are things you grow up to ignore, things both good and bad, to keep and erase, all of which making you human.
The sight of a loving mother's smile directed at her infant, the freezing breeze on your face in the end of a long summer day, the pinch of a needle, breaking through your skin to carry liquids into your blood flow.
Those are the kind of things most minds skip on, forgetting to get involved with bigger things. And given how short human lives are, that sort of idea where you forget even the smallest, least meaningful things is really absurd.
Or maybe having lived more years then the smartest of humans will ever choose, forces you to pay attention to those absurdly forgotten moments.
Kim Jonghyun was never tagged as a wise person, if he were to be quite honest. A huff left his lips as his foot connected with a stray stone lingering on the sidewalk, sending it flying a small distance and into the road. The sun was settling down in the horizon, sneakily leaving the wondering man in the darkness he knew so well and hated so deep.
Even though his human life held so many mistakes made by all the wrong choices, this particular one was not his to choose. You don't need to be the sharpest crayon in the crayon box to know how horrible is the thought of roaming the earth when you're supposed to be nothing but a pile of ashes now.
A car drove by on the smooth concrete besides him, jump-starting every sense he owned, his skin returning to settle on his bones once again when it turned the corner and disappeared from him. A chuckle rose from deep inside his chest, a hand rising to wipe across his face yet his smile stayed strong on his features.
He really was a nervous wreck.
He had an incredibly good reason though. As a former soldier he knew how impossible it is to do what he's doing. He knew what he was getting himself into from day one.
His footsteps quickened their rhythm, leading him to his destination. This plan was one of the most stupid and utterly pointless plans he ever came up with, but the little bits and pieces of what was left from his human soul was screaming for release from the banged up, claustrophobic apartment which attended his needs as a hiding spot, and he simply couldn't ignore the screams anymore.
The playground finally came into view, his feet only relaxing when he reached the soft, plastic ground of it. Now that was the strange part - his soul craved to sit on a swing, like he remembered doing as a human, and he found himself craving for such a simple joy too.
The metal chain which held the swing hovering above the ground was smooth and cold against his palm, the sit bringing an uncomfortable yet familiar feeling that made him feel like a kid again. Another smile rose on his lips as he pushed off, his feet swinging back and forth to create a calm pace, the breeze making every breath he takes into a freezing one.
He truly missed this, feeling normal. Not like he'll be normal for the rest of his lifetime, with his heart standing still and whatnot.
Even though his soul sang songs of comfort, his senses never calmed down, not like that possibility was available ever since he started running.
This issue, like being the creature that he is, was once again not his fault. He was dragged - kicking and screaming, he always adds for good measure - into a mess filled with bloodbaths, betrayal and lies, and not even into the good side of said mess. Being the loyal friend and soldier that he was taught to be, he sided with his dead friend, which automatically forced him to start running from the vampire police. Yeah, vamp popo. That's right.
Jonghyun always wondered who the hell will fear something with the name of the 'vamp popo', but knowing that group of trained assassins that could catch him the second he lets his guard down, he should fear. Still, stupid ass name.
His chuckle carried in the wind, the now dark skies returning his smile with the ease of its existence, nature giving a small grace after giving him the misfortune of being a bloodsucker.
If only he was actually free.
The swinging form stilled as memories washed over him, the irony of the hurt in his chest mangling with his pain of loss.
He remembered the smile of one thin boy, his big eyes shining with happiness like he hasn't been through everything Jonghyun had, like the bad things were forgotten from his immortal mind as well as the mortal one. They used to do this, sit on swings and making fun of anything they do, Jjong had a better life with Taemin by his side.
Maybe this mortal naïveness is what cause this entire mess to take place and destroy the boy's existence as it went. His feel planted on the ground. He would do anything for that boy, and watching him die might be what caused this void in his chest.
Again with the irony.
His eyebrows rose when he looked ahead and watched the sun rising to meet the day once again. He foolishly put himself in danger, drifting off while thinking of the one who still held a half of Jjong's heart like that.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, making his way home as fast as he could. It stained for his kind to be under the sun's rays, so his time was awfully short. He escaped from one shadow to the other, moving in the speed humans could only dream of, his hood pulled to shield him. He loved playing in the shadows in times like this, they always managed to hide him so well.
The sounds of birds bagging at each other rose around him, and in Jonghyun's mind they were warning each other of the closuring awareness of the human kind, or the ultimate predator's passing through. They shouldn't really - he never liked bird blood anyways - but the chipping sounds still made him aware of how late he stayed out. And for what? A string of memories that seem to hurt his tainted soul?
He knows the answer to that question he asks himself every day all too well, though he turns his ears from the words, knowing the recognition of them will hurt much more, and will make his existence almost unbearable.
The bare streets shifted into a shape he almost recognized as he neared his safety, the buzzing of sunrays cinching his skin like the claws of a toying beast serving a reminder that he can't slow down just yet. The white skin was already marked with angry red signs, a disturbing existence against the snow-like flesh. Just a few more steps and he'll be safe once again in the suffocating air of the apartment he borrowed to hide him from searching eyes, his hand tightened around the doorknob and he half tossed his body inside.
If he was human he'd be fighting for his breath right now. He chuckled.
A few steps, rusty and so dirty they could almost scream at him with the unfairness of them having to touch it, yet he ignored the words swimming through his imagination as he started climbing them to reach the filthy door he needed, an ugly thing that held a sign of a happy couple, now living very happily six feet under the ground. That's the most romantic thoughts he can conjure these days.
He pushed the loose doorknob as his other hand made its way through his messy hair, knowing he was saved by mare minutes, a few more and he would've started smoking, and that's a bitch to get out of your clothes.
The metal shut behind him as he shrugged off his coat and threw it at the cough, his shirt and pants following closely. He made his way to the bathroom, forcing his mind away from images of Taemin's naked body, the way he remembered it best. That was the most beautiful view his eyes came across, back when his life was actually worth living.
He showered quickly, water and the poorest brand of soup known to mankind mingling together with all the dirt that found home on his skin. He never found the pleasure of showering without a partner.
With an unhappy frown he exited the bathroom to pull the same dirty clothes back on, his mind still against his new - and rather disgusting - lifestyle.
"Now that's a sight I'll never thought I'll see, Kim Jonghyun wearing used clothes," a single footstep echoed through the space between them like a million guns, Jonghyun's shoulders tense and drop at the recognizing of the low voice. How the hell didn't he notice he was being followed? How could the careful him miss this? "Well, maybe with an orange jumpsuit, in the future."
Jjong shut his eyes tightly, his fingers loosening slowly around the fabric of his coat. "Orange jumpsuits are a human thing."
"But vamp prison's dress code is so boring," the pout was clear in the younger's voice.
At first sight, not many feared Choi Minho. He has this round, small face containing a pair of frog-like eyes and a naturally pouty mouth. He had the slight scent of a man about him that made a few back away a step or two, but a smile from the tall boy broke the illusion and made the majority of them laugh at him. Jonghyun knew how foolish they all were though, that's exactly what he wanted. They fought along side each other for decades on decades, and even with the age advantage Jjong held, he did not wish to be Minho's pray.
Kind of like he was right now.
He turned around defeated, coming face to face with the handsome, younger vampire. "Are you here to take me in?"
"Yup," Minho nodded.
"You know I won't surrender easy, right?"
The next nod came with a smirk that made Jjong's stomach turn painfully. That gesture never meant good to Minho's prays. "I considered, and acted against it."
Jonghyun's eyebrows rose up, right before his body dropped down.
**
The first thing Jonghyun senses is being tossed, from one side to the other. As a man who used to drive this type of car around with criminal vamps in the back of it - where he is right now - he knew all too well where this scene is heading.
Straight to his death.
A growl left him as he sat up, his hand cradling his beating head. He leaned back to make the tossing affect softer, the movement only doing half the work giving the unsteadiness of his weakened body. Hr forces himself to peal one eye open and glare at the small, metal window. A quick thought passed through his head about trying to break it, but he remembered the burning marks after his own victims had their shot at trying. That piece of metal was created with some kind of sunlight essence, a tricky bitch of a thing.
He decided on shouting instead. "Minho ya!" The sound came out rusty.
The window slid open immediately, accompanied by a chipper voice, "Good morning, hyung!"
If he could only see the glares Jonghyun was shooting at him. "Minho, stop the van."
"We will make a stop in about an hour or so, so hold it or go in the bucket."
A shiver rocked through his entire system. That bucket is a disgusting germ trap, and even back when he was a low class human, Jonghyun was still higher than this. He shook his head to clear his germophobia away, deciding to focus on more important things like keeping himself alive. "Don't take me in. I need more time."
A short laugh came out in a rumble, and he could almost picture the younger's shoulders moving with it. "What, you forgot to feed your undead dog or something?"
"Minho," Jonghyun's voice held a threatening note this time. "I need to prove he's innocent."
The car jerked into a stop, throwing Jonghyun off from where he was sitting before Minho pressed the right paddle, and it continued ahead. A stiff silence followed this small mistake, and it almost felt like a dark cloud slipped from Minho's thoughts and into his cell. When his voice rose again from the other side of the window, the older vampire noticed how carefully he's picking his words, "I knew he was your fuck toy, or boyfriend or whatever, but how can you still think he's not guilty after all this time?"
The void in Jonghyun's chest jerked. "He was your best friend, he saved you from slavery, he gave you his freaking blood when you got infected, how do you dare thinking otherwise?"
The car slowed down and drifted into the side of the road, engine dying right before a handsome face smeared with anger and loss came into his view through the window. "Taemin was wonderful to me, and my life will forever be in his hands. But the fact he betrayed the royalty stands tall and dark against all the good he's done."
Jonghyun inched to the window, his eyes growing darker at the words. "He was your best friend, he was not only a wonderful person but the only vampire whom I really believe held a soul even in human death, and you know just as well as I do that he was loyal as anyone can come, and he did not try killing the king. He would never."
"I believed that too," and with the flash that passed behind those dark pupils, Jonghyun knew the younger was not even close to lying. "But the facts are all there." His voice slipped into a whisper, "He was caught in action, and he was killed for it. It hurts, Jonghyun hyung, but it's true."
Jonghyun's hands collided with the bars of the window, a shout of pure anger leaving him as he could barely feel the pain of the burn, his entire concentration belonging to Minho's jerking figure. He took a deep breath through his nose, "Even if he knew you'll believe against him in his death, he would have still saved you. All those times."
Minho leaned forward again, his bone structure leaving long shadows across his face and he looks tired, of life and death and everything in between. "And I'm filled in shame for that." The sight disappeared from his eyes as Minho slid the window closed, the vehicle coming to life again beneath his form.
"You loved him too, didn't you." It wasn't even close to being a question. Jonghyun saw that look that held his dongsaeng's face every day, in the mirror, in shop windows, everything that reflected his face back into his tired eyes.
The window slipped into just enough for the sounds of their voices to pass through. They speed down the road. "Who won't fall for a fallen hero."
A saddened chuckle left him. "Are we not meant to be stronger then this?"
"Where a human heart used to beat." He didn't need to finish the sentence to get the point across. Jonghyun could only bob his head once in agreement, not really knowing how to let his feelings across with words. "It turned hard when you first came along." The prisoner's eyebrows rose a bit, but he only listened. "But he was so busy saving everyone around him... I'm glad someone came to save him in the end."
"Stop the car."
"Hyung - "
"I have something to show you, okay? Just stop arguing and listen."
The murmurings of Minho scolding himself were heard, yet the car followed Jonghyun's request throughout. The window slid wider and Minho's eyes came into view. "What."
A hand slipped into his coat and pulled out a piece of paper, wrinkled from all the times it was pulled open between Jonghyun's shaking fingers, whenever he needed a reminder as to why he was running. He slipped it through the bars, careful so his fingers won't touch the metal, and it reached Minho successfully. It disappeared from his eyes, concentrating on Minho's face instead, the younger's eyebrows frowned as the ruffling of the paper was heard. As his eyes passed along the written lines, Jonghyun began feeling anxious. That piece of paper was the only thing he was left with from Taemin's existence in this world, and Minho held a piece of his heart in his hands. His eyes moved and he stared into the space ahead of him and Jonghyun held his breath, remembering what he felt when he first read it. Taemin's words, pleading of him to turn a deaf ear to rumors and believe in him instead, they were burned deeper than any sunlight can reach into Jonghyun's mind, giving him every bit of strength he needs to move forward, clearing his lover's name.
"It's too late for this, Jonghyun." The paper slipped through the bars again, landing nicely folded by nimble fingers on the dirty cell's floor. Jonghyun shot forward and grabbed it, slipping it into safety once again.
"It's won't be too late if you'll let me prove it," he returned hotly.
Minho remained quiet, the vehicle slipping back into the road. The window remained open and Jonghyun wanted to grab Minho through those bars and shake him awake, shake him back into the time he would jump to Taemin's side without a second thought. A few sighs slipped from Minho's side of the window, and Jonghyun could imagine him shaking his head, fighting off thoughts as he did demons. "Why are you doing this to me?"
"Because I can't do it alone," Jonghyun's jaw tightened.
"Of course you can't." Another sigh, and the brief sound of metal hitting plastic before two more words slipped, "I'm sorry." And another piece of a sleeping drug slipped into Jonghyun's system, giving him a second to watch the window closing before his world turned black once again.
**
Before he came back to consciousness, he could already feel the metal pressing against his wrist and the bedding of something soft beneath him.
The words he forced past his lips came out even rustier then the last time he woke up. He's probably been under longer. "You should buy me dinner first, you know."
Minho's laughter sounded much nicer and more like he remembered when they were in the same room and out of moving metal boxes. "I really did miss your humor."
The man slipped into Jonghyun's eyesight – a long and lean figure, black clothes which labeled his profession to his observers were now replaced with more casual clothes, a simple tee and a pair of overused jeans, with the still lingering stains from when he helped Taemin paint his room's walls a lighter shade then his demin, hands tucked inside pockets as he took timid steps closer. The way he advanced made Jonghyun aware of a fact he forgot – he was the one who taught Minho everything he knows. That still held him some sort of twisted respect in the younger man's eyes.
"Glad to see I'm still a good source of amusement," Jonghyun almost smiled, but held the corners of his lips at bay.
The twitch of flesh did not escape Minho's eyes though, his eyebrows coming together roughly before softening again. "Day time came, so I pulled over and found us this place to stay. I have to warn you though, those cuffs are touched with sunlight. Don't move around in them too much."
That piece of information had Jonghyun go completely still, his mind searching for any source of pain around his hands. When it came up with none, he spoke again, "How am I not burning?" Minho pointed at an old looking box that stood silently on the filthy nightstand near him, and words weren't necessary. "Thank you," Jonghyun slipped just barely between his lips.
"I may take you in against your will, but you were a friend to me once. I won't torture you like I would others." A short nod came from Minho right before he turned towards his own bed, sitting across from Jonghyun. The older pulled himself into a more comfortable sitting position, a sigh he wasn't aware of slipped as he leaned back against the hard wood on the headboard. The sheets he laid on were cleanly fresh – a fact that made him smile at how considerate his dongsaeng was being – ones he knew were taken from Taemin's room.
"You're not going to help me, huh." He didn't hesitate in smiling at the younger this time.
A sigh, almost a twin to his own with the burden it held, came from Minho's mouth as his eyebrows joined once again. Instead of a reply Jonghyun only had silence in return, but he knew how important the next words are to his existence – pretty deciding, one could say – so he waited for them with patience. Minho finally moved, pulling a bottle of water from somewhere underneath the bed, pulling the cap loose and handing it across the distance to Jonghyun, who took it with his free hand and a simple head bow in acknowledgment, allowing the cool liquid to slip down his throat.
"I miss him."
It took some amount of strength to refrain from spraying the water from his mouth, he covered it with his arm instead, his eye focusing back on the younger's face. His arms were held behind his head in a way that seemed too casual to fit the words he just spoke, yet his eyes shone with the longing Jonghyun got used to seeing in his own alone.
"I do too."
"This won't bring him back."
He lowered his eyes towards the floor; those words' strength was a bit too much for his liking. "Nothing will."
A groan. "I love him so much."
"Me too."
This time their eyes met and Jonghyun wanted nothing more than to hug Minho closely to his chest. He was never the happy type, which was obvious given the tool his life as a human took on him. A tall man with cold eyes that warmed only when he saw a certain bright smile, one that turned even brighter then the sun itself when directed at Jonghyun. He could see it all know, and would have punched himself for not seeing it before if he had a free hand – Minho was just as far gone in love as he was for a dead man who left them both in this mess. All those moments from before his world shuttered came flashing through Jonghyun's mind, every little gesture coming with explanations now, reasons for existing glances and touches meant to comfort.
"I don't know what to do." Jonghyun could barely hear the confession coming out from the younger's mouth. He lowered himself onto the bed, his face escaping from the elder's eyes and he found himself disappointed at the loss of contact.
"Me neither." Jonghyun allowed his head to come to rest on the wood behind him.
"You have a plan, don't you?" A bit of wonder was intertwined in his words.
"I think I used to have one," Jonghyun pondered. "But now… How can I prove he didn't attempt murdering the king?"
"Do you believe it?"
"With all my heart." That was the only thing he was certain of, at this point.
"Your heart," Minho repeated and chuckled at the word, his knees drawing upwards and his body shifting until he was lying on his side, facing Jonghyun. His eyes showed nothing but sincerity. "He was lucky to have you by his side."
"I was the lucky one."
A pillow came flying from Minho's direction, hitting him in the face. "We got all emotional, but it's no reason to get pansy, hyung. You took it too far."
Jonghyun laughed softly, his head never budging from its position against the wood behind it. "Alright, I accept defeat. That was too cheesy."
"I always thought Taemin was the romantic one," Minho chuckled, shaking his head as he supported his upper body with his elbows. "But clearly, I missed an even bigger silver tongue."
Jonghyun raised an amused eyebrow at the younger. "I'll have you know, I wrote some poems for him."
"Really now?" The laughter that followed was the most alive and genuine sound he heard from Minho since they reencountered.
"How did you think he fell for me?"
"I thought he was attracted to your height, of course!" Jonghyun wrinkled his nose, shooting the other with a dirty look that had him raising his hands in defense, "Okay, that was a low blow, I admit!"
The older's serious look broke into yet another amused one, his turn to shake his head coming. "What will I do with you?"
"Nothing, since you're the one in handcuffs," Minho said righteously, leaning back against the headboard once again. "And speaking of handcuffs, aren't you tired?"
With his words came some kind of a consiosness to Jonghyun, his entire body, from his eyelids to his feet, felt so heavy they could pass on as a part of the bed he laid on. "I slept so much, how am I so tired?"
"Because you weren't really sleeping." The younger pulled himself up, grabbing the bottle from besides Jonghyun to screw the cap back on and throwing it back on the bed the older used. "Your body was fighting against the senses paralyzer. It was busier then it usually is, and everything about you was completely stiff when I followed you around."
"Now that's something I really can't grasp," Jonghyun's eyes followed him closely as he returned to his own bed, throwing himself on the soft surface with a huff. "I'm your teacher, yet I didn't notice you being around. How did that happen?"
A short pause passed between them, causing Jonghyun to believe the younger has already fallen asleep. "You're getting old," the reply that came proved him wrong.
Jonghyun chuckled and pushed his body down, wiggling in place until he got the most comfortable he'll ever get with one hand hanging up above his head. "Maybe."
"Sleep."
With that, he couldn't really argue.
**
It's dark. And it's like he's suffocating with too much air in his lungs, the frail organs seems to get used to the stiffness of the air underground.
The thoughts were slamming through his head, none of them readable or understandable yet he couldn't remember any other kind of thinking. The chains around his long neck pulled roughly, making the bleeding pieces of his flesh to burst once again, thin lines of blood dripping in teasing slowness over his milky skin. The halls greeted his face dimly, as if they know what kind of fate he's looking at. Not much can be worse than where he was right now, starving in a freezing cell with a few pieces of cloth covering his privates, but not the scars that stretched all over his skin.
He used to be normal before he got here, he thinks.
That pitch black door came into view as the guards made him turn the corner.
He knew the reason he was called here again, this time. If he had even one rational thought he might have been scared for the fate of others, but the slamming in his head alerted him of no change, every step he took as peaceful as can get.
They could break out the whip this time, if the news will not be taken well. It's been a while since he showed any kind of reaction to any kind of words, so maybe he's safe in that aspect. Unless the King Sooman simply feels like watching a man crumbles in a pool of his own blood. It happened before.
They stopped in front of the door, a sharp knock hitting the wood to announce of their presence. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his spine rising waves of protesting pain in order for him to stop. Moving so freely was a luxury in his cell and he really wasn't used to it.
The black was replaced with the view of a room, wider then it would seem on the outside and filled with useless yet horribly expensive items, collected from the dead hands of talented humans from all the king's years of living.
He just loved taking what wasn't his.
"Young man!" He greeted the prisoner like an old friend, and not a man he tortured time and time again. It made a shiver slam through his fragile body. "Glad you could make it. Have a seat."
He moved with the guards to sit where they told him, his hands moving to the arm rests where he knew his forearms will be tied. The bonds hurt a bit less every time, this time currying an almost feathery touch. Maybe it's because he's not panicking from these kind of things anymore.
Red wine filled a wide glass as the next words carried across the room's void, teasing at the prisoner's sanity. "We found your lover."
No reaction.
Sooman's eyes rose to watch the boy, disappointment filling his features at the lack of response. And you'd think he'd know how it'll be by now, with all the punishments he got for simply raising his eyebrows at words he spoke. "Minho is suppose to bring him in any moment. At least you won't find your death by yourself."
Not as comforting as it sounds.
"And if Minho will get… Confused," The word left his lips filled with disgust. "You'll have a party of your way to hell."
**
This time around, consciousness came by him pleasantly.
There was no one to shake him awake, or a fear clinging to his heart and stopping him from finally giving his body a good rest. He needed it so much and his body sucked the peacefulness greedily, as if even its mortality needed a rest from the weight on his shoulders. Deciding he's had enough time in his private dream world, he stretched first one leg, then the other, then his hands above his head.
Memories came back into his head and he froze.
Wasn't he in handcuffs?
His eyes forced themselves to open, revealing the lack of metal on both his wrists. He pulled himself up, his back resting against the headboard as he stared down at his wrists. Faint marks of red still stayed there from the closeness to the sunlight essence, accompanied by a darker red from where he hit the car's bars.
"Hey." Minho's voice made him jump, his hand flying to his chest as if it jumped his heart as well, even though they both knew better. "I let you out."
"I can see that," Jonghyun spoke slowly, his hand ghosting over his other wrist. "What changed?"
Minho lifted a piece of paper for Jonghyun to see – he would recognize Taemin's letter everywhere, in any form – waving it slightly to accompany his next words, "I read it again, many times while you were sleeping, and I made a decision." Jonghyun's eyebrows lifted a bit, his breath held tightly inside his chest in hope. "Taemin was my entire world, and even the King is not worth giving him up. I'll help you."
Jonghyun nodded once, a small smile tugging on his lips at the younger's words. He couldn't say this was a surprise really; Taemin had this way of reaching into people's hearts and grabbing a firm hold of them.
His own was the best example to that.
"Thank you."
The next nod came from Minho's direction. "Where were you heading?"
Jonghyun breathed out, leaning his head back against the wood. "He used to tell me about this friend he had, from when he was a human. He said they were changed together and since they fed on each other before normal humans, they had this mind connection that the largest of distances couldn't break. They could talk to each other even when they were on different continents."
Minho's eyebrows rose, his eyes widening almost comically. "Is that possible?"
"Vampirism is complicated, even the ancient explorers couldn't tell how it worked. It seemed to be true," Jonghyun shrugged slightly, not knowing how to explain it any better with the poor amount of knowledge Taemin gave him about this friend and their connection. "He gave me something, during one of our lovemaking." A quick glance at Minho told him just how much he could pass on this piece of information. "I'm not sure where it is but it works, it leads me towards his presence. Since their minds were linked," Jonghyun's words drifted off.
"It leads you to the friend," Minho finished.
A short silence took over the two, each trying to sort through his own thoughts, decide his own decisions, before Minho broke it once more. "How close are we?"
Jonghyun closed his eyes, searching for that familiar feeling Taemin taught him. It tugged at his mind and he could feel it, burning his fingertips a bit harsher. They were close. "You drove in the right direction. We'll just keep following it until we get there. It's suppose to make flames burst when we're there."
"Flames?" Minho's face showcased his alarm. Jonghyun nodded and he chuckled, pushing himself onto his feet. "That's nasty, even for Taemin. Just warn me before you search again, I like my skin as it is."
Jonghyun grabbed his coat, spreading it across his arm before following his newfound companion out the door of the dirty little room. "I'll think about it, since the idea of seeing you scream like a girl just might be worth that it leads to."
A punch to his arm threw him back to better times, his laughter rising sincerely in a rumble from his chest. He missed having a friend.
**
Apparently, Minho got them almost an hour's drive away from Taemin's friend's hiding place without even noticing. By the directions he pointed out to Jonghyun, they were meant to pass right through the small village without even knowing how important the place they passed was.
Jonghyun found out another thing, having flames bursting from your fingers wasn't like the lighter humans used to light their cigarettes, the way he imagined. It was more like fireballs shooting from his fingertips to cause complete havoc in the small car. Minho pulled over and here comes the third thing Jonghyun found out in that short hour – Minho's screaming pitch is the highest he's ever heard, and watching him throw himself out of a car he barely succeeded to pull over, screaming those high pitch screams was the funniest thing he's ever seen in his entire life.
And he's had a really long life to testify for that.
After forbidding Jonghyun from ever searching again, Minho got worriedly back into the driver's seat and drove the short distance into the small town. They arrived in the small hours of the night when humans were well past their forth dream already, giving them the peace they needed in searching. A lost soul – awfully thin looking woman with wide eyes and a noticeable shiver, probably from some kind of a mental illness – directed them in the right direction to an abandoned house.
"I don't think it's here," Minho concluded, hands on his hips and a frown between his eyebrows.
Jonghyun pushed the door open anyways, "It's worth testing before we start breaking into houses."
Minho followed Jonghyun reluctantly into the small home, both men freezing at the smell rising from the wooden floor. Alarm took over Jonghyun's entire body, the stiffness too great to break. "Fuck," the single word concluded everything he felt.
Minho was the first one to move, striding quickly into the next room before the older heard his footsteps come into a halt, a gasp leaving his lips too quietly for humans to ever be able to hear. "The guard."
Jonghyun made the same, short way, to encounter the same sight – a dark skinned boy's body looking as if it got thrown on the floor by a cruel hard, his head a few steps away from the rest of his body. The boy's features were taken by absolute horror, aside for the closed eyes. What really for Jonghyun to breath heavier was his mouth – lips pushed apart to bear teeth.
The way the King's guard leaves his victims.
"The guard killed him," Minho said again, his head shaking itself as shock still held the rest of the vampire's body.
Jonghyun couldn't find the words to fit after Minho's, and settled for simply staring.
The thing with shock is, it weakens the entire system against all the senses' strength, or the mind's will of survival.
When Jonghyun dropped this time, he heard a twin hit on the floor. Right before his eyesight slipped away into a darkness he regretted to become familiar with by now, he watched as Minho stared back, and a pair of black boots he recognized well, from the short sessions he had with the cruelest member of the King's guard came into view.
One name passed his mind before the feeling of ending took over.
Shim Changmin.
**
This was, by far, his least favorite way to wake up.
A heel repeatedly jammed itself just below his ribcage and if his body wasn't so tired, he would have sprinted up and beat the person it was attached to up until they could never move that leg, ever again.
"Hyung," A whisper too loud to actually be a whisper echoed up towards the ceiling and Jonghyun's eyebrows frowned, because the room he was in must have had a really high ceiling to carry this kind of echoed melody. "Jonghyun hyung, wake up."
Jonghyun only groaned, rolling away from the offensive leg until the bindings of something metal stopped him. Assuming it was Minho's handcuffs again, he tried to still his body the best he could from fear of the holy part. A few other whispering voices were heard, repeating Minho's words from different distances until the words became one, an unfamiliar sound that made Jonghyun's nose wrinkle along with his eyebrows.
"Where are we?"
"The King's dungeons." The reply was short and hushed, with a strain that meant Minho's most sensitive place – his pride – was seriously injured.
Only when the meaning of the words meant more than how tired his mind was did Jonghyun's eyes shot open, his body moving itself at the same almost impossible speed to his feet, his entire body rigid with the sense of danger. His eyes zoomed on Minho's face, a few seconds' stare letting him know slowly that both him and his dongsaeng are on the same side of the bars. Both inside.
"Why are you in here?"
Minho rolled his eyes, moving his head to look away from the older. "Because I helped a refugee in his quest against the King's wishes. That's why."
Jonghyun's breath hitched. "They labeled you a traitor?"
"We both knew they would," Minho's head rolled back, his eyes staring at Jonghyun blankly. That's when it hit him why the voice coming from those lips was so bland – Minho was disappointed with himself and his choices, the same ones that lead to Jonghyun's lungs still expending. "It was just a matter of time. Besides, after they sent Changmin hyung on our trail we never stood a chance, no matter how good we are."
Jonghyun's head bobbed slowly, his reasonable side knowing well that every word he just heard was true. He neared the bars, his hands gripping onto them as he glanced out into the hall, names labeling bars meeting his eyes and making him cringe – he heard all those names before. Seeing how most of the cells were empty and the memories he still held he could only come to one conclusion.
They were thrown into the most dangerous prisoner zones there ever were, the type that only lived until the King decided it's time to walk the poor souls into the sunlight and watch them burn.
"Shit," was the only thing he could say.
"Meh," Minho mused, the sound of his head thrown back softly against the wall echoing around him. "I just hope they'll walk us together. I don't want to walk right into your smoke, that shit stinks."
Jonghyun turned around slowly, disbelief filling his face. This defeatedness was not something he could ever associate with this particular dongsaeng, and it almost hurt his reality to hear these words coming from him.
It hurt his soul, however, to know he was the reason they were ever spoken.
"It will be nice, to burn." All source of breath left Jonghyun's lungs, every single sense going hyper with the recognition of the voice he heard so long ago, and craved every single minute since. He threw his body across the cell, his muscles protesting against the hit of holy metal but he didn't care, wouldn't care, never –
"Taemin!"
The boy who lifted his head at the sound of the name, looked nothing like the boy Jonghyun's heart was given to on a plate of gold. The big, brown eyes were now pitch black and surrounded by darker skin, the hair laying so lifeless when Jjong could clearly remember how soft it felt between his fingertips. The lips he kissed to no end back when he could stretched to bare perfect teeth that used to brighten every dark cloud, "It'll be warm."
"And then there's that," Minho commented from behind him.
Jonghyun's mind couldn't grasp the lack of sense in Taemin's words as he turned to stare at Minho in confusion. Minho's eyes were the deepest he's ever seen them, sorrow filling the seas of brown in the dim light. "I heart about it, but never saw it before. Hoped it'll say this way until the day I die."
The older turned back, his eyes focusing on the man he loved and nothing else. "What did they do to him?" The words slipped through clenched jaws.
"There's this drug, no one knows how it works," Minho's words were carried to him. "It's suppose to erase a vampire's entire personality, so they could build a better one and place it in their brain instead." A short pause allowed the sounds of Taemin's senseless, whispered words to slip into Jonghyun's ears and blacken his heart. "It doesn't work."
The skin that showed from where Taemin's poor excuse of clothes could reach was scarred to no end, and Jonghyun just wanted to cry, Taemin wasn't suppose to ever get here. He was never suppose to stop smiling. Not his Taemin.
The words twirled around before the voice paused, eyes flashing towards Jonghyun's figure. He kneeled against the bars, matching Taemin's eye level as the boy got on his knees and dragged himself closer to his own bars. "I have been waiting for you."
"I came, Taeminnie," Jonghyun couldn't even breath now, pressing himself as tightly as he physically could against the isolating bars. "I'm so sorry you've been through all of this, but I'm here now. I'll help you."
Taemin's big eyes blinked, his head tilting the tiniest bit before he continued, "They said I could only burn along with you," the boy smiled, full but still not as bright. Never again as bright. The corners of his eyes wrinkled and Jonghyun almost wanted to pretend the words passing through those lips were completely different ones, like he was looking once again at the man he loves instead of this empty shall laying in front of him, a shall that isn't fitting to be one tenth of what this boy once was. "Now I can be a beautiful flame."
*
It all seems like a haze, now. Taemin is standing to his right, Minho on the boy's other end. The cheers of the crowd reached their ears, inhuman and not in the biological way, ruthlessly screaming for the bonfire they will soon be. The night passed in a haze – Minho reached his arms at some point of it, and maybe even shed tears when Taemin finally called their names, but Jonghyun couldn't be sure of this part, maybe because his sounds of despair were too intense against his ears.
This is it.
Jonghyun looked at Minho, who stared right back, both looking almost as empty as Taemin does. He doesn't know but they do, they will know through every burning sunray that will pierce through their skin, bringing their death closer faster than they could grasp.
"Hold him," Jonghyun instructed as he himself took a hold of Taemin's closest hand. The boy was shaking – maybe he did know – his eyes focused on something untold ahead, as if some part of the dirt was worthy enough of his absolute attention.
Minho opened his mouth to protest, but Jonghyun's eyes clouded and his throat tightened, unable to say a word as he followed the order, holding onto Taemin's hand as tightly as he could.
Jonghyun looked ahead, watching the machine connected to the chains around their waists coming to life, the soft tug against his abdomen making him gag.
It's show time.