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“I don’t think it’s really much of a problem,” Namjoon rubs his temples, still looking sleepy despite being on his third cup of Americano for that day when it’s not even lunch time yet. But then again, human food are only taken in by vampires like them to keep up the appearances of normalcy. It should make perfect sense how, although caffeine doesn’t have the same desired effects for them, Namjoon could still be spending thousands of won on several cups of Starbucks coffee every day, except Taehyung knows that Namjoon just likes showing off more than having the need to cover up. “If you want to touch him, then just go do it? I’ve literally seen you more than ten times go the extra mile just to impress someone so they would date you and you’d have a willing prey at your hands.”
Prey. Taehyung smacks his lips, frown lines disappearing at the corners of his lips in displeasure. Even after years of being surrounded by pure-blooded vampires for friends whose families only look at humans as preys and not as equals, he’s still not used to hearing it directly from them how they regard humans simply as prey, as if they were nothing. It’s true that they feed on the energy of humans by touching them, but it didn’t mean that they’re supposed to just be regarded as food.
But not all of them get that, and Taehyung is, more often than not, forced to pretend that he’s dating a human just so he wouldn’t have to hunt anymore and not because he genuinely likes them, not wanting to push further any arguments.
“It’s not as easy as you’re trying to make it sound like.” He says instead, letting the recollections of a past conversation he’s had with Namjoon when he found out that the latter had a human girlfriend get sucked into a black hole at the back of his mind. It’s convenient, I don’t need to hunt someone down so I could feed on their energy. It’s like a having snack bar, or a charger. But portable. Namjoon was smart, but that doesn’t mean that he knew everything—and it didn’t mean that Taehyung believed everything he said and shared those ideals, either. “He tastes different, hyung. And it doesn’t even help that we’re next door neighbors. It’s like every time I see him, my cravings get worse.”
Namjoon interlaces his fingers together, eyes sharpening their focus on Taehyung. His eyebrows arch up, as if he’s assessing something in the back of his mind and clearly doesn’t have any good comments on it. “You’ve formed an addiction, I see.” He says, in that voice Taehyung knows he uses on his patients when he’s thinking up of solutions to the problems they’re facing. “You should quit before it becomes worse.”
Addiction. Namjoon says it like it’s a vice that Taehyung could quit gradually, if he just put his mind to it. And the truth is, if Taehyung thinks long and hard about how it started from accidentally bumping into Yoongi and feeling a strange surge of electricity jolt through his body, to getting hooked with how his energy tasted like, to the point where he keeps trying to push Taehyung’s casual offers of friendly bonding away, he could probably be right about it.
But Yoongi seemed to have grown exasperated of pushing Taehyung away (at least, that’s what he seemed to be implying, adding in “you keep coming back all the time anyway” whenever Taehyung asks him to hang out, and to this day, Taehyung still isn’t sure if he should be offended or flattered) and started hanging out with him lately, even agreeing to going out with Taehyung to pet dogs in the park. And the things is, whenever Taehyung sees Yoongi smiling, gums and tiny teeth showing, he feels completely better than whenever he touches Yoongi and passes it off as accidental, knowing that Yoongi doesn’t like skinship that much.
Yoongi doesn’t like skinship the way Taehyung craves it—needs it to survive, even—and his personality is the complete opposite of how Taehyung is, but it makes Taehyung want to know him all the more.
And the thing is, Taehyung realizes, this addiction, as Namjoon had called it, might already have been worse.
“You remember what I told you last time, hyung?”
“Which one? Because you’ve been coming to my clinic to talk about your ‘hunting problems’ a bit too often lately.” Namjoon says, a small teasing smile playing on his lips, and Taehyung frowns. He isn’t saying anything about his feelings, but it seems like Namjoon already knows. Or at least, what lies over the surface, seeing that he hasn’t pulled the ‘humans are our prey’ talk on Taehyung. Every pure-blood who found out about his liking towards humans, regarding them as friends instead of prey, has probably given him the talk, although in varying degrees of ridiculousness. It’s only high time before Namjoon realizes that what Taehyung’s thinking about is more than just sexual desire for Yoongi or wanting him for his energy, but Taehyung thinks he’s already been given one too many talks on that topic for any of Namjoon’s words to have any effect on him if he ever breaches the topic.
Namjoon laughs. “You meant the analogy with the hamburger, right? I still think it’s weird that you’re adapting to Seokjin hyung’s food puns by using food to analyze how people’s energies taste like,” Namjoon shakes his head. “But then again, he does that too. Although more,” Namjoon gives it a thought, tapping his chin. “Detailed?”
Taehyung snorts, remembering how Seokjin described how his prey’s energy tasted like the way a food critic would. “Anyway, my point is, it’s hard not to crave for him, especially since I’ve been getting the chance to touch him lately, even when it’s just for a few seconds. You told me before to just touch him and get over it, but why do I feel like instead of satisfying my cravings, touching him just makes me want him more?”
“Whoah,” Namjoon raises his hands up, eyes wide. “Your thirst is showing, Tae.”
It takes a few moments before the implications behind Namjoon’s words sink in, and he stutters. “I’m not thirsting!” Taehyung bursts out, and Namjoon has to grab him by the hand and make him sit back down to prevent him from possibly running out of Namjoon’s clinic and causing a scene. “I’m literally on the verge of dying here from being deprived of energy and that’s what you’re thinking?”
“No, but that just sounded too much like a sexual innuendo, I can’t take it seriously.”
Taehyung squints at Namjoon. “You’ve been watching way too much porn.”
Instead of getting offended, however, Namjoon merely blinks, like he’s so used to being told that. “And you’ve been sexually frustrated for the past two months. Just confess and get on with him already. I can’t even stand listening to your figurative boner yet but you’re already popping an actual boner for him now, wow.”
Taehyung takes off his shoe and chucks it at Namjoon, narrowly missing the elder but hitting the painting hanging on the wall behind him instead. “What the fuck Taehyung?”
Taehyung grimaces. If things were only that easy.
It’s not a surprise to Taehyung when he sees Yoongi by the bridge a little ways from across their apartment building, knowing that he does it to de-stress. He remembers Yoongi mentioning that he has a deadline to meet, and the older man’s probably having problems with composing again, but Taehyung knows not to prod—Yoongi will open up to him himself when he wants to talk about it.
“Oh, you’re alive.” Yoongi glances back at Taehyung briefly, before turning back to his routine of feeding the carp. He tears off a piece of the bread and throws it to the river below him, his movements monotonous. “I thought you said your friend would chew you out, but I guess he isn’t that bad.”
Taehyung hums, moving closer until he’s standing next to Yoongi, arms resting on the railing of the bridge. “I haven’t told him yet.”
“Oh?” There’s a momentary pause to Yoongi’s movements, eyebrow raising as his curiosity is clearly piqued, before he resumes picking at the bread a throwing it. “Is it that bad that you can’t tell him yet?”
“Yeah,” Taehyung breathes, remembering how close he was to telling Namjoon that the growing feelings he has for Yoongi isn’t caused by an addiction to how his energy tasted like, but an addiction to who he was. He stares down at the carp crowding over the chunk of bread, eager to take the pieces for themselves. Somehow, it reminds him of how vampires crowd around humans in order for them to survive. “Or maybe I’m just too much of a coward.”
“I don’t think you’re a coward.” Yoongi says, and Taehyung peels his eyes away from the carp and stares at Yoongi, whose voice has gone gentle. He’s picking at the bread but isn’t throwing away the tiny crumbs that he gathers against the tips of his fingers. “You always face your problems head-on and tell what you really feel, and aren’t afraid of meeting new people and trusting them, even when you know that there’s a big chance that they might betray you. You’re one of the bravest people I know.”
Taehyung couldn’t help the wide grin spreading across his face. “Really?”
“You don’t need to sacrifice your life to save others or jump off of a building to prove that, trust me.” Yoongi’s mouth twists when he catches sight of Taehyung grinning, and he looks like he’s forcing himself not to smile.
At the back of Taehyung’s mind, there’s a list of stuff, all categorized based on a certain order—a list of the food he likes (which is quite fairly, a short list despite how much he eats even when his body doesn’t really enjoy human food), a list of the things he dislikes (beans, definitely), a list of the things he wants to do… The list goes on. But right now, there’s only one thought going through his brain, as if the list he was thinking of keeps on highlighting that one thing on his itinerary list, making it hard to ignore.
“Hyung, I’m sorry,” Taehyung says, moving closer to Yoongi’s personal space, and before Yoongi could react, Taehyung already has his arms wrapped around Yoongi’s torso, nose buried in the juncture of Yoongi’s neck.
Yoongi doesn’t move for a moment, probably still dazed in surprise, but then he starts struggling, wiggling in his place to get out of Taehyung’s sudden hug attack. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Taehyung’s hold on Yoongi tightens. Yoongi is still as delicious as he remembers from the last time they’ve made physical contact, if not better. “Sorry hyung, I know you hate this, but I just wanted to know.”
“Jesus, Taehyung,” Yoongi sighs, the fight already out of him and surprising Taehyung. Before, Yoongi had been so adamant about Taehyung being near, but right now, he just seems to let Taehyung off the hook. “If you wanted to know anything you could just ask me.”
Taehyung inhales deeply, and he feels Yoongi shudder in his arms. Yoongi smells like bread and pine trees and leather couches, and he doesn’t know how it associates with anything, but it’s comforting to him. “I’ve been wanting to hug you for a long time now and I wanted to know if the feeling would disappear if I did.”
Yoongi sighs but doesn’t move. But when he speaks again, he sounds calm and collected, unlike what Taehyung had expected. “Is this a confession?”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. You can take it whatever way you want.”
Yoongi swallows audibly. “So, did it disappear?”
“No,” Taehyung says, tightening his hold around Yoongi’s frame. “I think it got worse.”
Yoongi hums, and he moves to pat Taehyung’s hands. “It’s getting late, we should head back inside.”
Taehyung subconsciously buries his face deeper in Yoongi’s neck, and he feels the other’s chest rise abruptly, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “Hyung,”
Yoongi taps at his hand again, still sounding the same. “C’mon. If it makes you feel better, I’ll give you a hug later.”
Taehyung finally lets go of Yoongi, albeit a little too reluctantly. “Promise?”
Taehyung couldn’t see Yoongi’s face, but he could sense a fond smile hidden behind Yoongi’s words. “Promise.”