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“Sorry, Jihoonie, but I don’t think there’ll be a second date.”
Jihoon lets out a long sigh, grimacing. “I figured… thanks for setting it up anyway, hyung.”
Seungcheol lets out a chuckle and tells him not to worry. “You’ll find love again someday. I can see it in the cards. You’re too cute to not have someone fawning over you all the time!”
He hangs up the call then, falling back onto his bed. After his recent breakup, it’s not like Jihoon's been diving into the dating scene, but it’s about time. All his friends have been pushing blind dates onto him and he thought it wasn’t a bad idea. Why not? He and Junhui weren’t an item anymore and it was a good way to test waters.
Unfortunately, it seemed he was cursed, despite Seungcheol reassuring him that he was definitely curse-free. The failed blind date Seungcheol had reported in was his twelfth blind date in the last three months.
“What the fuck am I doing wrong?” he complains into the air, scowling up at the chipped ceiling.
He hears the front door open, followed by Junhui calling out I’m home!
Jihoon holds back a sigh, contemplating shutting his room door (even if Junhui could probably knock it down with one hand and still have the money to pay for repairs). Boyfriend or not, he and Junhui are stuck as roommates – at least until either of them found somewhere else to live. The Chinese boy didn’t seem like he was actively looking and Jihoon was having trouble finding someone who had space for him.
There’s a knock on his door frame and he lets his eyes slide down to the figure of his ex-boyfriend. His glare intensifies as he notices how well-kempt Junhui looks – button-down and jeans with a leather jacket slung over his arm. Damn him for dressing the way he knows Jihoon used to like.
“No plans tonight?” he teases, accent barely noticeable from five years in Korea. His canines glint in the low light – proof that he probably went out to feed.
Jihoon grumbles to himself, turning his back to his ex-boyfriend. He doesn’t absently caress the two almost-healed puncture wounds on the side of his neck. “No. None at all.”
“That’s a shame. What happened to Mr I’ll-get-a-second-date?”
He’s decided. He’s going to take his guitar to Junhui’s aggravatingly handsome face. Then, he’s going to beat him bloody and toss his body down the garbage chute. After all, he’s only putting the trash back where it belongs.
Jihoon tries his best not to growl as he hears footsteps, heading into his room. “Don’t sulk, Jihoonie,” Junhui coos. He even has the gall to perch himself on Jihoon's bed, hand resting between Jihoon's shoulder blades. The younger contemplates breaking Junhui’s hand, but decides it’s too much effort and lets it stay there.
“Go away, I’m upset.” He holds back a sigh as Junhui slowly starts rubbing the knot between his shoulder blades. “What do you want?”
“Absolutely nothing. I’m just offering to buy you food,” Junhui assures. When Jihoon flicks his gaze upwards, there’s an infuriating smile curling the other’s lips. “I’ll pay for the chicken. How about that?”
“Only because you’re paying,” Jihoon sniffs, burying his face in his sheets. “I still don’t like you.”
Jihoon and Junhui met at orientation.
Junhui was still fumbling through Korean and had latched himself to the boy who looked soft to the touch and nice to cuddle. He had mistakenly thought Jihoon was all those things, until they actually had a conversation where Junhui could actually follow. He’d discovered just how scathing the siren could be behind his soft features and melodic voice and had nearly popped a boner on the spot.
It’s actually hilarious, seeing Wen Junhui be brought down to his knees by a siren like Jihoon. He knows that Junhui is some sort of vampire prince (although Jihoon doesn’t really follow vampire politics) and they usually wouldn’t get together if it weren’t for university, but it was sort of… charming. If it wasn’t, Jihoon wouldn’t have said yes the fifty-sixth time Junhui had asked him out.
“What’s wrong with me?” Jihoon demands, practically slamming down his tray onto the table. Soonyoung blinks up at him dumbly, strip of raw meat dangling from his lips.
“What?” his best friend intelligently says. Jihoon scowls, throwing a handful of fries at the werewolf’s face.
“Why am I friends with you?” he laments.
Soonyoung wrinkles his nose, brushing fries from his medium rare meat. “Because I’m the only one in our year who puts up with you,” he says drily, getting a bonk on the head from the shorter male. “Ow – do you really want me to answer that question?”
“Yes,” Jihoon snaps, then deflates. “No… am I that bad?”
Soonyoung pauses, hand stilling. The blood from the barely cooked meat drips onto the plate. He lets out a soft sigh, the meat plopping onto the plate with a wet sound. He pats Jihoon's hand, smiling gently.
“Hey, you’re not,” the werewolf reassures him. “Those guys… they just don’t see how special you are.”
Jihoon lets out a soft huff. “I didn’t even sing,” he says mournfully. “That usually scares them away. The only one it didn’t was – ” He scowls again.
Jihoon jumps when arms wrap around him, a chin resting on the top of his head. “Hey, kids,” Seungcheol says cheerfully, dropping his heavy bag next to Jihoon. The siren bites back a yelp when one of Seungcheol's many heavy spell books spills out into his lap.
“What the fuck,” Jihoon whines, shoving Seungcheol off. The witch laughs, skipping over to the other side and pressing a kiss to Soonyoung's bloodied lips.
“Hey, hyung,” Soonyoung hums, nose pressed to the crook of Seungcheol's neck to scent him. Something in Jihoon's chest aches, the empty space next to him feeling colder than usual. “How’d you know we were here?”
“Magic,” Seungcheol answers cheerfully, sparks flying from his fingertips. Jihoon is slightly envious, wishing he could create something out of nothing like that. All he can do is bewitch others with his voice and maybe control some splashes of water. The witch turns to Jihoon then, grinning widely. “Hey, I have another date for you!”
Jihoon groans, shaking his head. He picks at the cod on his plate, wrinkling his nose. “Give it up,” he grumbles. “Maybe Junhui’s right. Maybe he’s the only one who can put up with my shit.”
Seungcheol slams a heavy tome onto the table, scowling something awful. “That’s bullshit,” he growls, narrowing his eyes at Jihoon. “Don’t give up just because that blood-sucking son of a bitch doesn’t know how to hold onto something good, okay? If I didn’t have Soonyoung, you can bet I’d definitely want in on your pants!”
Soonyoung lets out a growl this time, much more animalistic than Seungcheol's human vocal chords can emit. “No. Mine.” He winds an arm around Seungcheol's waist, practically pulling the elder into his lap. “My mate.”
Seungcheol's cheeks flare with colour immediately. Jihoon immediately averts his eyes, biting his lips to curb the smile threatening to break out. There’s probably a full moon in a few days, Soonyoung's canine tendencies showing up a little bit more than usual.
“Soonyoungie,” Seungcheol whispers, kissing the top of Soonyoung's fluffy head of hair. The werewolf lets out a happy growl, melting into his taller boyfriend.
Jihoon clears his throat, the discomfort setting in the longer the couple keeps up their affection. “Should I go?” he says half-jokingly.
“Don’t do that,” Seungcheol sighs, petting his boyfriend the way he would a clingy puppy. “Anyway, I think I found you the perfect date.”
Their first date, they’d gone to the movies.
Junhui had kept his hands to himself and Jihoon had been preoccupied with wondering when Junhui would put his hands on him. Junhui’s hands are cold, but not much colder than Jihoon's. He’s a son of the sea, gifted with a voice of beauty. He’s not quite accustomed to warmth, which is why Junhui is perfect for him.
Jihoon can still remember the look on Junhui’s face as he had walked him back to his dorm – smile hidden, eyes sparkling and restraint showing in every single action. He had kept a hand on Jihoon's lower back, his jacket draped across Jihoon's shoulders even though the siren had said he wasn’t cold. (Thinking back, he realises that even then, it was Junhui’s way of scenting him – of warning others off of someone he’d found important in his life… that prick.)
Their hands kept brushing as they walked and Jihoon had wondered when the Chinese boy would reach over, intertwine their fingers the way he liked to do when they walked. He was impressed by the show of restraint.
They stop in front of the building, the streetlights catching in Junhui’s auburn hair. The vampire smiles, canines sharp. “Well, this is you,” he says, a hint of reluctance in his voice. “It was fun, Jihoonie.”
Jihoon hums absently, stepping closer. Junhui’s eyes widen slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He keeps his voice low, softening the syllables as he says, “It was really nice. I had a great time.”
Junhui clears his throat, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. Jihoon suppresses a smile, the corners of his lips tilting upwards. If he presses his hand to Junhui’s chest, he’d probably feel how fast it’s beating – maybe even almost as fast as a human’s resting heartbeat.
“I – uh, I’d be honoured if we could do this again,” Junhui says, slipping into formal speak that he probably learns from prince lessons with Minghao. “If you’d let me take you out again.”
“Yeah,” Jihoon breathes, taking another half-step closer. A thrill runs through him when Junhui mirrors him, gaze locked on his lips. He hums a low note under his breath, grasping the front of Junhui’s thin shirt. “Kiss me.”
Junhui gazes down at Jihoon in awe, lips parting. His gaze in unfocused, his hand resting on Jihoon's shoulder. “I know what you’re doing,” the vampire murmurs. “It’s not going to work on me, Jihoonie.”
Jihoon blinks, eyebrows raising. “Really?”
Junhui shrugs, stepping back. He covers his mouth with the palm of his hand, eyes crinkling as he smiles. “I’m royalty. What kind of royal would I be if I could get charmed stupid by a melodic voice and a pretty face? Even if it is yours.”
The siren’s bottom lip juts out in a pout. He pulls the taller male’s jacket around himself, refusing to give it up until it stops smelling like Junhui. “So you don’t want to kiss me?”
“I do,” Junhui’s quick to reply. A pleased flush crawls its way up Jihoon's neck and he ducks his head to hide his smile. “I want to, but not like this. Not if you think you have to sing for me.”
Jihoon chuckles, pressing up against Junhui’s chest. He flutters his eyelashes, going for alluring and hoping he doesn’t look idiotic. “Kiss me anyway?”
Junhui cups his cheek, palm cool against Jihoon's heated cheek. “Is that what you want?” His elongated fangs glint in the low light. “Maybe I won’t let go.”
Jihoon's breath catches in his throat, leaning up. “Maybe I won’t mind.”
From: Boo Seungkwan
srry i had to cancel last time, hyung! ><
meet me @ angel’s peak in 30mins?
Jihoon lets out a sigh, not really sure what he’s expecting. He’s talked to Seungkwan a couple times – they’re in the same major, just different years. Seungkwan is a freshman, so Jihoon has no idea how Seungcheol knows the younger. Sometimes, it seems like Seungcheol knows half the school.
He hesitates, glancing at the show loading on his laptop. He’s tempted to cancel the date, but Seungcheol would storm over here and drag him, kicking and screaming. Reluctantly, he brushes the fish skin chips crumbs off his chest and drags himself into the bathroom, taking his time because he knows he has plenty to spare.
He walks out of the bathroom, towel slung around his waist and contemplates throwing on a comfortable outfit, fuck style. Then, he suddenly thinks of the content look on Junhui’s face as Seungcheol had told him there was no second date. He knows Junhui has to feed, knows it’s too awkward between them to ask Jihoon for blood, but… ugh. Why does he have to show up like some hot piece of ass and smile with blood on his collar and a full belly?
“Fucktard,” Jihoon grumbles, discarding his comfortable jeans onto his bed and pulling out the pair of jeans that’s ripped everywhere and accentuates his ass. He even pulls out an oversized t-shirt – the kind that makes him look smaller than he already is. The collar is wide enough that if Jihoon doesn’t keep an eye on it, it’ll slip down his shoulder. Junhui always loved this look on him.
He stares at himself in the mirror, eyes narrowed as he eyes the two small puncture wounds on his neck. He brushes the mildly inflamed skin gently, digging around for a choker that’ll hide the marks. He traces the soft velvet, twirling the small necklace chain dangling in front. It rests on his collarbone, focusing attention there.
Jihoon's still in the middle of drying his hair when the doorbell rings. He glances at the clock, but he still has ten minutes to go. It’s not Junhui; that asshole has a key and walks in like he owns the apartment and everything in it – including him.
Rage wells up in him all over again, a scowl forming when he pulls open the door.
“Selene bless us,” Soonyoung whistles, looking Jihoon up and down slowly. “Damn, Jihoonie, if I didn’t have Seungcheol hyung, I’d ask if you’d let me knot you.”
Said boyfriend smacks the back of Soonyoung's head, shoving the werewolf aside so he can bully Jihoon into his own bedroom.
“You look ready to fuck,” Seungcheol says plainly, the corners of his lips tilted in a smirk. “Good job, Ji. Now let’s really make you fuckable.”
That apparently entails Seungcheol taking an eyeliner pen to him and lining his eyes for him, but not before forcing him back into the bathroom to apply some BB cream. Soonyoung is in charge of his hair, but he doesn’t do much other than dry it and fluff it up.
“It suits you better,” Soonyoung assures him, grinning when Seungcheol accuses him of being a lazy ass. Jihoon turns to the mirror again, letting out a surprised sound.
The eyeliner makes his eyes stand out, giving him an element of danger that isn’t usually associated with sirens anymore. His lips are pink, thanks to the tinted lip balm Seungcheol had insisted he use. His blonde hair is soft to the touch, some of it falling into his eyes when he leans forward. He looks… hot.
“I think we did a pretty good job,” Seungcheol says smugly, running his fingers through Jihoon's hair so he has that just fucked look going for him. “Seungkwannie won’t know what hit him.”
Jihoon tugs at the black choker around his neck, nervousness settling in the pit of his stomach. Despite Seungcheol saying he’s not, it feels a little like he’s been cursed. His last few blind dates have been complete messes – food spilled on him, his dates spilling food on themselves, some of them even… his most memorable date was when he and Yoongi hyung had bumped into Yoongi's ex at the bowling alley. That soured the entire evening, although he seems quite happy with his ex-turned-current-boyfriend.
“Do you… think it’ll go well?” Jihoon says hesitantly.
Seungcheol pulls his head out of Jihoon's closet, looking uncharacteristically serious. “Jihoon. You’re a great guy. It’s not your fault you’re a siren. If those guys can’t handle it, then they suck. You’re the best person ever and whoever can’t see that doesn’t deserve to be your friend, let alone your boyfriend.”
Soonyoung cheers. “Aww, baby, that was great,” he coos, wrapping his arms around Seungcheol's shoulders and pulling him down for a chaste kiss.
“Thanks,” Jihoon says around his tight throat, sniffling a little so he doesn’t do something embarrassing like cry.
As if sensing a moment and intent on ruining it, the door slams open. Junhui’s voice bellows through the apartment, calling out, “Jihoonie, I brought back takeout!”
“You… didn’t tell him?” Soonyoung whispers, turning to Jihoon with wide eyes.
Jihoon wrinkles his nose. “Why would I?” he says haughtily, nose upturned. “I don’t owe him anything.”
The siren stalks out then, head held high. His heart is pounding in his chest, which is probably why Junhui turns to him to ask what’s wrong. The paper bag in his mouth falls to the counter as he takes in Jihoon's appearance, licking his lips.
“Wow,” Junhui rasps. “You look… wow.”
“Thank you,” Jihoon says curtly, grabbing a leather jacket that isn’t his from the closet and pulling it on. “I’ve got a date tonight, so I’ll probably be out late. Sorry.”
Junhui blinks. His eyes widen, making him look vaguely panicked – which is ridiculous, because Junhui’s the one who broke it off and there’s nothing to be panicked over anyway.
“To – Tonight?” The vampire prince looks like he’s on the verge of a panic attack. He glances over at Jihoon's bedroom, where Soonyoung and Seungcheol are peeking out. “But we were supposed to watch a movie tonight?”
Jihoon shrugs, shoulder exposed as his sleeve drops. He feels the cold air on his shoulder, followed closely by the heat of Junhui’s gaze. He doesn’t shiver, determined to enjoy himself with Boo Seungkwan, the… well, he’s not sure what creature the freshman is, but hopefully he’s not a no-good, lying vampire prince.
“Sorry, Jun,” he repeats, not sounding the slightest bit apologetic. “Don’t wait up.”
Jihoon shuts the door behind him firmly, not sure if his heart is beating this fast because of his blind date or if it’s all Junhui’s fault.
They’d fit together like they were soulmates, Jihoon and Junhui.
They danced around each other and learnt together. Jihoon had broken two plates and a door hinge the night he’d sung for Junhui for the first time, tearing up when the vampire prince tilted his head and smiled, looking no more entranced than usual. Junhui had upended their kitchen table and nearly broke Jihoon’s front door the night he’d asked if he could drink Jihoon's blood exclusively. They both broke the headboard of Junhui’s bed when the vampire finally asked Jihoon to move in with him.
They’d broken apart like a natural disaster, Junhui and Jihoon.
They argued and they fought, but nothing hurt more than Junhui pulling away – an entity he could see and touch, but could never have again. Junhui wouldn’t tell the siren why he was pulling away, just that it was for his own good. Jihoon had accused him of being selfish. Naturally, Junhui had ended things.
Jihoon stormed out and cried himself to sleep on Seungcheol's couch that very night.
“A – a noraebang?” Jihoon repeats nervously.
Things were actually looking up. Nothing had been spilt, no exes had shown up. Seungkwan was young – only nineteen and halfway through his first semester. He was topping his creative writing classes, only starting Intro to Music Production next term. He was bubbly, talked a lot and had a sense of humour that catered to Jihoon's. The younger’s hair was a softer shade of blonde than Jihoon's, contrasting against his golden skin. His style was simple, complementing Jihoon's almost perfectly.
The entire date was going a little too perfectly, so of course Seungkwan suggested going to a noraebang.
Seungkwan, seemingly unaware of Jihoon's discomfort, nods enthusiastically. “I know a place that’s really good,” he insists, handing Jihoon his jacket like a perfect gentleman. He holds an arm out, prompting Jihoon to rest a hand in the crook of the younger’s elbow.
Jihoon swallows nervously. It was just his luck that Seungkwan would turn out almost perfect. Well, might as well scare him off now, before he gets too attached.
“Seungkwan-ah,” Jihoon says softly. Seungkwan's eyes are so bright and he’d hate to see it turn to terror or discomfort. “I’m a siren.”
Seungkwan's smile doesn’t change. If anything, it widens, turning brighter than any manmade light source. “I know,” the freshman says serenely. “I’m a siren too. Won’t it be fun to sing together, hyung? You sound like you have one of those especially heavenly singing voices.”
His heart flutters in his throat. Jihoon allows himself to hope, for once in his life. Sirens are rare in Seoul; they usually decide to school in coastal areas or islands, like Busan and Jeju Island. He knows quite a few sirens, but none of them as charming as Seungkwan. This might actually go somewhere, for once.
It turns out that the noraebang is nearby. Seungkwan waves at the attendant, who points them to a room that Seungkwan seems especially familiar with.
“Come here often?” Jihoon inquires, shedding his jacket and leaving it on the seat while Seungkwan busies himself with choosing songs.
Seungkwan shoots him a smile, handing him the console. Their hands brush and the younger doesn’t bother pretending it’s accidental. “All the time,” Seungkwan admits in a faux-whisper, bringing his face closer to Jihoon's. “The rooms are soundproof, so no one can hear us. Great, isn’t it?”
Jihoon nods dumbly, still trying to wrap his head around the recent turn of events. It’s insane, how this date is going from another blind date to one with possibilities. The tips of his fingers tingle and the marks on his neck burn, but it means he can move on and he can be happy.
Seungkwan turns back, winking at Jihoon and bringing the microphone up to his lips. The first note he croons is pitch-perfect and stable, eyes soft as he sings the ballad. Jihoon's stomach swoops, nothing to do with the magic of a siren’s voice and everything to do with the way Jihoon can harmonise effortlessly and Seungkwan doesn’t turn stupid.
At the end of the song, Seungkwan claps enthusiastically. Jihoon shoves the younger siren, laughing quietly when Seungkwan theatrically falls over onto the couch.
“Your voice is really nice, hyung,” Seungkwan compliments enthusiastically. “Man, if only we could record it… you’d sell millions!”
“You too,” Jihoon says shyly, running his fingers through his hair. Seungkwan's eyes follow the motion, grinning sheepishly when Jihoon cocks his head.
The younger clears his throat, tugging at his collar. “You’re… kinda really hot, hyung,” Seungkwan murmurs, voice loud even in this big room.
Jihoon lets out an embarrassed bark of laughter, ears heating up. “Thanks, I try,” he says, trying for confident and ending up sounding constipated.
“For me?” Seungkwan looks vaguely touched. “You didn’t even know I was a siren until twenty minutes ago.”
“Doesn’t matter to me. You’re cute.”
“Hyung… no offense, but I’d rather be hot than cute.”
Jihoon smirks, shaking his head. “You’re cute,” he murmurs lowly, delighting in the way Seungkwan flusters. The microphone in the younger’s hand nearly falls as Jihoon closes the distance between them. “You think I’m hot?”
“Y-yeah. Really hot.” Seungkwan's eyes widen, nearly bugging out of his head when Jihoon straddles his lap, only vaguely caging him in. He doesn’t let them touch – not yet, anyway. “Holy shit, hyung.”
Seungkwan looks like a teenage boy about to get to first base. There’s something almost virginal about him, like a baby siren who isn’t sure how to use the powers of seduction they were gifted with.
“I’ve never been with a siren before,” Jihoon comments idly, letting his fingers play with the hairs at the nape of Seungkwan's neck. Seungkwan lets out a strangled sound, eyelids fluttering as he leans his head back; utterly pliant under Jihoon's feather-light touch. Cute, Jihoon thinks, leaning down so his breath washes over Seungkwan's lips. “What about you, Seungkwannie? Have you ever been?”
“N-no,” Seungkwan groans, moaning softly when Jihoon slides his hand into his hair and tugs. “F-fuck, hyung, please…”
“Please what?”
It’s natural, the way Jihoon's words float on a melody. It won’t work on Seungkwan – not the way he’s used to making it work – but it seems to take effect anyway. Jihoon hasn’t been with anyone else since Junhui, and he’s certainly never been with another siren, let alone one younger than him.
Seungkwan stares up at him, eyes glazed over with lust. He looks drunk; if Jihoon looks a little closer, he can spot the blush high on Seungkwan's sharp cheekbones. He strains against Jihoon's hand, wanting Jihoon to kiss him without using the words. Jihoon's about to comply when he hears knocking on the door.
The moment evaporates, leaving Seungkwan flustered and Jihoon frustrated.
Jihoon falls off to the side, letting Seungkwan answer the door while he picks up the console and searches for another song to sing. The younger turns back to him, apologising softly as he says there’s someone looking for him over at the counter.
It’s not that Jihoon is sexually frustrated or anything (even if he kind of is), but this is the final test for Seungkwan. He knows he can get intense when he wants to get intimate and if there’s any other time to scare someone off, it’d be now.
As it is, maybe Seungkwan already has been scared off. Jihoon idly sings a song, noting that Seungkwan is gone for the entirety of it. He slides in just as Jihoon finishes his last note, turning on the lights.
“So,” Seungkwan says slowly, “is there something you’re not telling me, hyung?”
Jihoon raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
Seungkwan laughs, shaking his head. He grabs his wallet and Jihoon's wrist, pulling him up. “I like you,” the young siren says candidly. “You’re fun to hang around and you don’t fall under a spell when I sing. But as much as I like you, I don’t think I’ll ever like you as much as the guy who just threatened to dismember me if I tried to ask you out on a second date.”
Jihoon's eyes narrow. “He what?” He doesn’t know who, exactly, that guy is, but he can take a guess. “That son of a bitch.”
“You never told me your ex-boyfriend is a vampire prince,” Seungkwan chuckles, surprising light-hearted about the situation, all things considered. “He’s kind of scary.”
“Junhui isn’t scary,” he scoffs, already making out Junhui’s displeased figure in the entrance of the noraebang. “He’s a pain in my ass.”
Seungkwan stops just short of the entrance, turning to Jihoon. He grabs the elder siren by his shoulders, eyebrows furrowed. “Hyung, he tracked you down. He came all the way here to threaten me, but his hands were shaking the entire time. He really cares about you.”
Junhui’s gaze flicks towards them, the expression on his face severe. His arms are crossed over his chest, the loose material of his shirt still hugging all the muscles Jihoon intimately knows. He looks noble, royal… and completely out of Jihoon's league. He’s everything Jihoon wants but doesn’t deserve.
“He wouldn’t have let me go if he did,” he snaps, directing it towards the eavesdropping vampire prince.
“Or maybe he let you go because he did.” Seungkwan grips Jihoon's chin lightly between his thumb and index finger. “I had a great time, hyung. Text me if this thing between your vampire and you goes well, okay?”
Seungkwan leans down and presses his lips to Jihoon's forehead. Within a blink, Junhui is there, hand clutching onto Seungkwan's shoulder hard enough to bruise.
“What are you doing?” Junhui hisses.
Reflexively, Jihoon's hand wraps around Junhui’s wrist. He knows he’s not as strong as a vampire, but Junhui doesn’t make it a habit of throwing around his strength around Jihoon; it’s not exactly a quality Jihoon finds attractive, anyway.
Seungkwan, ever so cheerful, merely winces and rubs at his shoulder. He tosses a cheerful thanks, hyung! and a smile over his shoulder.
“Jihoonie,” Junhui murmurs imploringly, eyes as wide as that of a wounded puppy’s.
“Outside. Now,” Jihoon grits out, dragging him out by the wrist. Despite being the stronger of the two, Junhui lets himself be led outside with the air of a man walking to the gallows.
The moment they stop outside of the building, Junhui starts babbling. “Jihoonie, baby, I can explain! You see, I was just trying to look out for you and – ”
Jihoon shuts him up with a sharp gesture, lips pressed in a thin line. Despite his ex-boyfriend single-handedly ruining one of the best dates he’s had in months, he’s not mad. There are bubbles in his chest and his head feels light. It feels like Junhui cares and he doesn’t know how to deal with these mixed signals.
“How the fuck did you know I was here?” Jihoon demands. He’s not furious, although he is mildly irritated. He was having a great time, possibly getting laid tonight, so he doesn’t approve of his ex-fucking-boyfriend butting in like this.
Junhui fidgets, not meeting his eyes. “I, uh, I’ve been getting Soonyoung to tell me where all your blind dates are,” he mutters.
Jihoon's eyes roll upwards. Figures. Soonyoung's the one who encouraged Jihoon to go out with Junhui in the first place. He’s always been weak for romance, especially when it concerns Junhui wooing Jihoon.
“You’re the one who ended this,” Jihoon points out, stepping back when Junhui reaches for him. “Jun, you ended this. You pulled away. Why won’t you let me move on?”
Junhui’s breath hitches audibly. He looks paler than usual, hands wringing together worriedly. He bites his lip and Jihoon wishes they were close enough for him to reach over and tug the plump flesh from his lips.
“Jihoon,” Junhui says desperately, “I love you.”
Jihoon's heart skips a beat; Junhui can hear it too, if the victory in his gaze is anything to go by. The siren thinks he can spend a lifetime trying to forget Wen Junhui, and it still won’t be enough.
Bitterness crawls up his throat, sour in his mouth. “There was a time when I would’ve believed that.”
Junhui lets out a frustrated noise, messing up his perfectly tousled hair. “I sabotaged your date,” he yells, a crazed look in his eyes. “I sabotaged all your dates, Jihoonie! I made them spill the food on you, I got Wonwoo to get me a telekinesis spell – fuck, I even convinced Park Jimin and his friends to go bowling the same night I knew you were going!” Junhui stops, breathing hard. He licks his lips – a nervous gesture. “I don’t – I don’t think I can stand seeing you with someone who’s not me.”
“You’re selfish, Junhui. You’ve always been selfish.”
It feels like a rehashing of the argument that led to their breakup. Jihoon's still hurting the most, but at least Junhui looks desperate too. He won’t pretend he’s not vindictive; he wants Junhui to suffer.
“The council doesn’t approve.” Junhui sneers, but his gaze is faraway, like he’s looking at someone who’s not there. “They don’t want you with me. Jihoon, they threatened to take away my crown and kill you. I don’t – ” His voice cracks. Jihoon jolts when he notices there are tears in Junhui’s eyes. “It’s not an idle threat. I can’t live without you.”
“Then you should have just told me.” Jihoon takes a step closer, then two. He cradles Junhui’s face between his hands. “You don’t have to take on the weight of the world on your own. You’re not Atlas.”
He thought he could move on, forget Junhui and live his life, but even if Junhui hadn’t been so stubborn in holding on, it would’ve been easier for the gods to take his voice.
“They’d kill you,” Junhui repeats hoarsely. He presses Jihoon's hand to his cheek, leaning into the touch. The first tear falls, rusty red against Junhui’s golden skin. “I thought it’d be easier to push you away.”
“Well, you were wrong. Not like it’s the first time.”
Junhui lets out a watery laugh. “You’re so fragile, Jihoonie. If I lose you… I’m not strong enough.” He presses a kiss to Jihoon's palm. “I’ll kill them all, then I’ll kill myself."
The siren shoots him an annoyed glare. “I come from a family of warriors,” he says haughtily, “and my kind have been leading men and women to their deaths for millennia. I am not helpless, Wen Junhui.” He lets out a huff. “And I’d kill you if you ever thought of killing yourself.”
“Minghao and I can only hold them off for so long, love.”
Love. The word has always sounded much sweeter dripping off Junhui’s lips.
“I don’t need you to hold them off,” Jihoon sniffs. “I can fight them off with the help of my brethren. We are not alone. Don’t act by yourself. This is not a battle you need to fight alone.” The tips of their noses touch, Jihoon breathing his words into the small space between them. “You are not alone.”
Junhui smothers a sob, tears streaking down his cheeks freely. In the three years Jihoon has known Junhui, he’s never seen the vampire cry. He’s ugly like this, nose running and eyes puffy. Even like this, Jihoon thinks there’s a certain glow about him – a beauty that cannot be matched.
“Will you still have me?” Junhui asks through a sob.
Jihoon doesn’t answer. He chooses to pull Junhui down, lips pressed to the taller male’s. He can taste the copper from Junhui’s blood tears. Junhui presses back, hand tangling in Jihoon's hair. They kiss like it’s the end of the world, like they only have twenty minutes left to say everything they need to say.
Jihoon can’t breathe, doesn’t want to breathe if it means he has to pull away. He’s missed Junhui – even through all the anger, the hurt, the pain – and he’d almost let them go. His lips are swollen when they finally do pull away, cheeks flushed. He feels too warm in Junhui’s jacket, but in the good way.
“I’m scared,” Junhui whispers as he presses their foreheads together.
This doesn’t mean nothing. If Jihoon stays with Junhui, it’s possible he’ll have a target on his back. Maybe not tomorrow, or the next week, or the next month, but they will come. It could start a war between vampires and sirens; although Jihoon is not a prince, he is of noble siren bloodline. The Siren Elders will not stand for one of their favoured sons to be targeted.
He will be protected – if not by his own kind, then by his friends. He can already imagine the protective spells Seungcheol will craft, let alone the pack Soonyoung will raise in order to aid in the fight.
Of course, Jihoon hopes it doesn’t have to come to that. Although he comes from a family of warriors, he much prefers peacetime. He’s hoping that Junhui’s family, who he’s met once or twice, would either banish or eradicate the problematic members of Council before Jihoon has to do it himself.
The siren chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss to Junhui’s lips. “Me too,” he admits quietly. “But at least we have each other.”
Junhui smiles brilliantly, blood still clinging to his eyelashes. “I’m sorry I’m an idiot.”
“You can make it up to me later,” Jihoon says coyly, his laugh vaguely melodical. Junhui’s eyes darken as he pulls Jihoon closer, tightening his grip on the smaller male’s waist. He leans down, capturing Jihoon's lips again. He takes his time, tongue flicking out to lap at Jihoon's lower lip briefly, pulling a moan out of the siren.
“Let’s go home,” Junhui rasps with eyes full of promise. Their fingers interlace even as they pull away.
Home. Jihoon likes the sound of that very much.