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“jaeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-”
“-what now?” jae groans in exasperation. he sets the graphic novel down on his lap, just as his friend slash the most irritating roommate to date scurries into the room, eyes wide and bright. he gestures for jae to follow him. “oh my god , please don’t drag me to the window just to check out another squirrel; you know our potions are running low. we can’t possibly keep sticking our heads out the window just because brian offers them for fre-”
“-jae, look!” the taller of the two emerges into the dark bedroom, before following wonpil to the window overlooking the backyard, the grass trimmed to the roots, courtesy of the weekly gardener who offered to mow their lawn for free after disturbing the household a year back. before jae can take a glimpse out of the window, wonpil swivels around to face him square in the eye. “you know the house next door is abandoned, right?”
jae frowns. “well, yeah.”
“yeah, well, not anymore!” with that, wonpil stares out the window again, with jae peering out with him. outside, under the gleaming sunshine streaming down upon the two households, a boy appears from behind the open trunk of a car, parked into the cobblestone driveway of the house next door. the light catches in his silver-dyed hair, the breeze rustling through it as he hoists up a cardboard box. with his foot, he awkwardly pops the trunk close with a thunk before swivelling around.
wonpil lets out a shocked gasp. even jae seems interested.
the boy can’t be older than twenty, his face holding some sort of childish innocence. yet, wonpil is transfixed as the boy adjusts his grip on the box. the tank top shows off his built arms, glistening with sweat under the sweltering heat, muscles rippling with every slight movement. despite his heart not beating, wonpil’s head begins to spin.
he gulps. “is he our neighbour now?”
jae shrugs. “seems that way,” he replies half-heartedly, already turning to waltz off, but is yanked back by wonpil tugging on his long velvet sleeve. “yah, pirrie, watch who you’re grabbing - this is a fifteenth-century original cut!” he huffs, dusting off his sleeve where wonpil’s fingers had been gripping.
yet wonpil pays no heed. “jae, he’s gorgeous .”
jae rolls his eyes. “and he’s a human.”
“damn it,” wonpil pouts, crossing his arms across his chest like a little kid. “he’s cute.”
“so walk up to him and talk to him, then,” jae brushes wonpil off, but is begged to stay again by wonpil’s pleading doe eyes.
“look, jae, i can’t possibly walk up to him. what made him move here in the first place? it’s literally the most deserted, uninhabited place ever! shit, jae, what if i walk up to him, and his blood smells super good? i’ll be tempted to suck him alive, and i can’t do that; he’s so cute! shit, jae, what do i do-”
“-it’s count jaehyung, pirrie. you keep forgetting honorifics.” with that said, the conversation is over, and wonpil is left in the dust as jae stalks off, absolutely annoyed by the fact that he was distracted by his best friend all because said best friend could not keep his fangs to himself. he grumbles on about being ‘the only sane person under this roof’, to which wonpil shouts, “i can hear you, y’know!”
“that’s the point!”
clicking his tongue, wonpil turns his attention back to the silver-haired boy. from the windowsill, he catches a glimpse of him as he pads down the walkway to his front porch, box in his hands. he tries not to pull his lower lip in between his fangs, but the two teeth poke out anyway - it’s been a while since a human’s been in the vicinity. seeing one, especially one as drop-dead gorgeous as this human, makes him want to suck all the bloo-
nope, nope, nope. calm yourself, kim wonpil. you’re a 453-year-old, completely sane and functional vampire. keep your fangs to yourself, remember?
as he leaves the windowsill, he doesn’t notice the newcomer peer up and catch the flicker of wonpil’s silk coat flapping behind him. he grins to himself, before stumbling into his house. at least eomma’s cake will come in handy now, he thinks.
_______________
wonpil’s downing the last of the contents of his daily potion (courtesy of brian, the witch who lives in the depths of the forest just a stone’s throw away from the household, who’s obviously been pining over oblivious jae for forever - literally, 286 years and counting - and who gives them free sun-protective supplements every year) when the doorbell rings. rings isn't the right word - no one has rung the bell in at least sixty years; heck, brian just storms inside like it's his own house.
baffled, wonpil flicks the glass into the sink before striding up to the front door. the doorbell is a nasty dingdong, creaky and echoing. as it rings again, wonpil yells “coming!” he yanks the door open.
oh, fuck. oh, god .
cute neighbour boy looks even cuter up close. his eyes are wide, smile awkward yet cute at the same time. he's still wearing the tank top from earlier, and wonpil has to tear his gaze away from the other's arms, the lines running along the other's forearms. he swallows. “um, hey?”
grinning, neighbour boy perks up. “hi, i'm dowoon. i just moved in next door,” he gestures to the house beside wonpil's, “and my mum kind of gave me this cake, in case i had any new neighbours. seems like i do.” with that, dowoon thrusts out the cardboard box, a smiley face scribbled across the top with the words from dowoon, to neighbour(s) .
wonpil gushes. “oh, thank you so much, dowoon.” he takes the cake box from him, chuckling. “this is really sweet, tell your mum thanks!” he can't resist offering dowoon a gummy smile, seeing as how adorable the other isis.
dowoon's smile falters. “uhhhh…”
“what?” wonpil quizzes, furrowing his eyebrows.
“you've got something… um, well, i'm not sure how shall i explain this-” alarmed, wonpil raises his fingers to his teeth. fuck. fuck . his fangs are prodding out on their own account.
in that space in time, wonpil catches a whiff of the boy's sweetness. it's been a while since he's been around human blood, and this boy is irresistibly saccharine sweet. wonpil tries, tries to retract his fangs but they push out further, practically digging into his lower lip the more he persists against them.
“i-i,” wonpil would've blushed if he could, but he can't, so he begins sweating, the beads of perspiration rolling down the sides of his face now. “f-fanks for the c-cake, gotta go!”
before the other can get out a word of protest, wonpil slams the front door in front of dowoon's face, and plants his back flat against the firm mahogany wood door, panting. the sweat is practically pouring from his scalp as he carefully sets the cake box down onto the marble floor. he slowly eases himself down into a squat against the cold door, trying to will his fangs away. they won’t.
shuffling past the entrance door, jae catches sight of wonpil. he quirks an eyebrow. “pirrie? you good there?”
“y-yeah, perfect, don’t mind me,” wonpil mumbles, but his words catch around his fangs, and it comes out more like, “ferfat, von’t vind meh.” realisation dawns upon the older, and jae takes long strides over to where wonpil is leaning against the door, on the verge of a full-on panic attack.
jae kneels down to examine wonpil. “wonpil… why do you smell like-” he takes a huge sniff of the air inhibiting the both. “from the smell of human blood and the cake on the floor, i’m going to guess your crush just came around.”
at this, wonpil grabs the cake box and leaps to his feet. “he’sh vot my kwush,” wonpil protests, before taking off for the kitchen, jae hot on his heels. he doesn’t want to swivel around to face the older; he’s sure jae’s wearing his signature shit-eating, i-told-you-so-but-you’re-denying-it smirk across his face, the one he absolutely despises. as they enter the kitchen, he yanks the fridge door open before setting the cake inside. “he’sh jusht our neighbwour.”
“hah!” jae snorts. “the bullshit sounds even shittier around those fangs.” the older rummages around in the cupboard before tossing a packet into the air. wonpil catches it with ease. “drink up. seems like only your fangs are telling the truth right now.”
“i hate you,” wonpil scoffs, before staring down at the packet in his hand. he turns it over in his palm, sighing. all of a sudden, the pig's blood or cow's blood or any other kind of blood the government sends over every month seems every bit bland to wonpil, compared to the raw sweetness of real human blood. he practically salivates at the thought of dowoon, of dowoon's smile, of dowoon's blood pounding heavily in wonpil's ears.
he's only snapped out of his trance when jae sighs. “please don't think about the neighbo-”
“-jae,” wonpil whines, throwing the packet dismissively onto the countertop, startling jae. “can i really not have one bite? just once?”
jae's eyes turn as wide as saucers. “pirrie, you know what happened the last time you tried to bite the dude who showed up at our door fifty years ago-”
“-i didn't actually bite him!” wonpil raises his voice. “he just smelled good.”
“and then he called the cops on us. see, pirrie,” jae pats the younger's tense shoulders affectionately, “we want to maintain a good relationship between us and the big dudes out there. we're obviously being discriminated and probably the only thing stopping the humanly world and our world from a huge ass war is by sticking to the rules. don't let one cute boy fuck it up for our sake. think about it.” he flicks wonpil's head, making him yowl in pain. jae smiles sadly, tossing him the packet into his arms again. “i'll be in my room if you're still desperate."
“ew, jae, i-”
“-not in that sense, asshole,” jae rolls his eyes, but grins anyways, before exiting the kitchen, leaving wonpil to silently suck on the disgusting dead animal blood in the packet, all alone.
only after fifteen minutes of twiddling his fingers in the kitchen, there's a loud crash as brian storms into the house. wonpil barely even blinks as the boy emerges into the kitchen - emerges isn’t the right word. bursts in is too much of an understatement, for brian leaves a light green smoke trail behind him as he poofs into the kitchen. this time, his jet black hair is slicked into a low ponytail, and in his faded tee and half-apron, he looks like a cross between a reggae singer and a cooking show host. “yo, pillie millie. you called?”
“no?” wonpil sits up straight in the chair his ass has been sat on. “why?”
“oh,” brian frowns. his fingers thread through his hair. “count Jae called to say that you called.” at the mention of the other’s name, brian flushes a little, the tips of his ears pink. he can’t be any more obvious , wonpil sighs internally, as he slides himself off of the seat.
“he’s just being overprotective of me, that’s all,” wonpil shrugs.
curious, brian leans forward. “and why so?”
wonpil chews on his lower lip as he digs through the fridge for some milk. every time brian bursts through the doorways of the house, past the security fences the two vampires put up ages ago, he demands for the same iced americano, insisting that out of all the vampires he’s met, jae and wonpil make the best coffee. wonpil wants to defend himself by saying that wonpil and jae are the only two vampires brian has associated himself with, and that it’s just the brand of the coffee and the efficiency of the coffee machine working its magic, but his words always fall upon deaf ears. as usual. “perhaps i might have gone rogue a bit?”
“ you ? gone rogue?” the corner of brian’s lips turns upwards in a lopsided half-grin as he leans against the countertop. “i’m not surprised.”
“why’s that?” wonpil frowns as he grabs a mug from the drawer.
the witch chuckles. “i dunno, wonpil, you’re kind of… unpredictable. i won’t be surprised if you sucked all the blood off of the nymph next door.” brian plops himself down onto one of the swivel chairs. at this, wonpil drops the mug in his hand, and it would’ve shattered into pieces if brian hadn’t forced his hand out. “ gelare !” the object now hangs in mid-air, as if strung to the ceiling, only a few inches from the floor.
“he’s a nymph ?” wonpil blurts out, shocked. “but i clearly smelled human blood! and how would you know this?”
brian hums a little, before clicking his fingers. the mug sets itself down gently onto the countertop, glistening in all its glory, intact in one piece. “i poked around before coming here. i caught a couple of daisies sprouting out from the old vines along the sides of the house. he’s so obvious about it, it’s scary, honestly-”
“-i smelled human blood, brian-”
“-sorry, half flower-nymph.” brian grins. “half-human. and a pretty one, too.” as the coffee machine whirs to life behind wonpil, the distinct sound of seventeenth-century shoes click against the marble floor as jae strides in confidently, his eyebrow arched as he catches the last of brian’s words.
jae clears his throat, catching the witch’s attention. wonpil has to refrain himself from rolling his eyes as brian turns starry-eyed, swivelling around to face the long-legged vampire leaning against the kitchen doorway. “half-nymph? half-human? pretty ? this isn’t about the neighbour wonpil's lusting over, is it?” when there comes no response, his other eyebrow is raised. “interesting. nymph blood? how's it like?”
brian shrugs. “according to folklore, a vampire once seduced a water nymph. apparently it tastes sweet, but is highly addictive. he kept coming back for more until one day he got careless and stepped into the sun. his loss.” the whirring of the machine stops, and brian spells the mug into his hand. “thanks, pirrie,” he nods towards a now wary vampire eyeing the witch.
“can vamps drink the blood of nymphs?” wonpil asks tentatively, despite the glare searing into his dead soul from jae's direction.
“nymphs, yes, but he's got some human blood,” brian hums, taking a sip. he spells ice into the drink. “better,” he sighs, before glimpsing up at wonpil. “not sure if it's safe to drink from him-”
“-absolutely not!” jae blurts aloud, throwing his arms out into the air in exasperation. “the whole underworld is under danger if this guy can't possibly keep his teeth to himself. i called you here to talk some sense into him, not entice him to practically murder our new neighbour. he's only been here for a mere hour, bri.” he huffs, earning a sigh from brian.
the witch taps his forefinger against his chin. “pirrie mirrie, you poor little vamp. how can i help you seek satisfaction from your bland blood bags?”
frustrated, wonpil frowns. “i don't know! i'm tired and hungry now. if you guys are only here to lecture me, i'm going off now.” with that said, he stalks out of the kitchen, leaving jae with his arms folded across his chest and brian taking a loud sip from his mug of freshly brewed coffee. once he's gone, jae sighs.
“what am i supposed to do with that boy?” jae mutters under his breath irately.
when brian pats the swivel chair beside jae, the vampire complies. “he's probably gone rogue for a bit. the presence of human blood after a while does things sometimes.” there's a twinkling in his eyes, and a blush splotching across brian's cheeks, and they're certainly not from the summer heat seeping into the house from outside. the corners of jae's lips turn downwards.
“well i sniffed a bit. and i'm absolutely stable,” jae protests.
the witch ponders over this for a moment, before turning back to face jae. “hm. usually that's because you've settled for someone to drink from. which you certainly have not, unless you're not telling me something?”
jae chews on his lower lip. “no, no. no, god i don't.” he laughs humorlessly, swatting a hand dismissively in he air. “please, brian. what kind of role model am i to wonpil if i myself didn't have an ounce of self-control in me.”
brian downs the last of his coffee. the mug is set back onto the countertop with a rather loud thunk, stealing jae's attention. “some say it's because it's attraction that deters a vamp from seeking for blood from others.” the redness in his cheeks intensifies with every passing second. please say it please say it please say it-
“attraction to who? wonpil ? ridiculous.”
“i didn't mean him.”
“then who would-” when jae really stares into brian's eyes, the glint of bronze amongst those bright green irises, jae's fangs poke out against his lips again. it's been happening for a while now - a few years - but suddenly his throat feels constricted as brian slowly shuffles over, swinging a leg over jae's skinny thigh under the fifteenth-century fabric.
for once, the vampire doesn't protest.
_______________
late night, wonpil's strolling just along the outskirts of the forest, deep in contemplation. okay, fine - part of his reasons for escaping from the mansion was because, the moment he'd stepped into the kitchen to cook something up for dinner at least a good three hours later, he'd caught jae drinking deeply from brian's exposed collar. he'd sworn he'd seen the magic practically pour out of the witch in green bellows, and perhaps a pair of boxers lying somewhere on the kitchen floor. thank goodness he hadn't stayed to figure out whose they were.
(though, the sixteenth-century lace is a dead giveaway of jae…)
he'd screamed, before making a mad dash out of the doorway, but he couldn't have hidden the sliver of a smirk and a well about damn time from his lips as he stepped out into the cool evening air inhibiting him.
silence envelopes him, save for the dead leaves crunching under his laced up boots and the unmistakable howls of the pack of werewolves, who terrorised the other folklore from the forest (except, of course, brian, who occasionally slipped his spelled blueberry pies to the pack every now and then, thus earning their respect). shoving his fists into the pockets of his cloak, wonpil drags in a deep breath of the air, before exhaling slowly.
that's when the shrill scream slices through the thick quietness. alarmed, wonpil turns his head this way and there, searching for the source of the sound. another screech pierces through the night air, before ebbing into a series of hiccuped breathing.
picking up the pace, wonpil's boots trudge along the walkway around the forest, and when he turns a corner, he intakes a sharp breath. before him is the half-nymph, half-human, sprawled across the dirt gravelly ground. he's dressed for the cool summer night, sleeveless top and mid-thigh shorts. he tries not to let his eyes linger at the fabric hitched up on the boy's smooth skin.
“shit. what happened, dowoon?” wonpil breathes, panic rushing throughout his body now as dowoon whimpers on the ground, writhing in pain. the former crouches down closer to the boy, his eyes wide as he takes in dowoon's scared expression. “it's okay, im here. deep breaths, dowoonie.”
dowoon looks at him, his eyes shaky. “i was taking a walk. then a fox just… jumped out of nowhere and bit me.” with that, he gestures to his ankle, now swollen. a cut from the fox's teeth leaves green traces, the bright red blood oozing out slowly.
oh, fuck . wonpil is totally, royally fucked. he tries to hold his breath but it's not of any use, especially when dowoon eases his leg up for the other to inspect the wound. the scent of blood practically pours like honey from a jar into the air. “i think it's a spelled fox. there's some green there.”
green…
wonpil wants to internally face palm himself. of course , because he would totally love to see wonpil in pain and agony as he bites down on his tongue in anguish, the smell of half-human, half-nymph blood circling the air. “i-i think so too. i've got some, well, medication back at home. can you stand?”
“i think so?” dowoon hesitantly replies, too shaken to reply properly. and so, wonpil gently grips the other's wrist as dowoon struggles to his feet, his ankle throbbing. “okay, yeah. i'm okay.”
“let's get you to my place,” wonpil assures him, still holding onto dowoon as the boy hobbles past the dead leaves, back up the walkway leading to the mansion not too far off. beside him, wonpil's head is spinning, the intoxicatingly delicious scent teasing with wonpil's senses as the vampire tries to suppress his desire bubbling in his gut.
wonpil’s pretty proud of himself, seeing as they make it to the mansion doorway with dowoon still in one piece, untouched and unravished by the want twisting and turning his stomach. when wonpil shoves the door open, he’s greeted by the sight of jae kissing brian up against the wall, the both of them too into the moment to notice their presence until wonpil clears his throat. “i’m really happy the both of you have finally come to your senses after two fucking centuries, but we’ve got an injured dude here, and it’d help if you didn’t scare him off.”
shocked, jae retracts, pulling back and almost shoving brian off of his chest. “who came to their senses?” he denies, his voice higher-pitched than normal. “is this the neighbour kid?”
“his name’s dowoon, and where’s our medication kit?” wonpil demands. jae jerks a thumb to the backroom, the man cave as wonpil calls him. with the energy leaking out of dowoon fast, wonpil notices him slumping against the wall. without a second of hesitation, wonpil catches dowoon, before lifting him up bridal-style. despite the tiny bits of muscle in his arms, super strength kinda comes in handy, sometimes, and it surprises dowoon enough for his eyes to widen.
“if anyone looks for us, i’ll be healing him,” wonpil shouts over his shoulder before traipsing down the hallway, dowoon in his arms. when the two are out of earshot, jae swivels around to face brian.
“that was your doing, wasn’t it?”
brian hums, fingers tracing jae’s swollen lips. “what doing?”
“the wound on his ankle. it was green.” the vampire stares at the witch square in the eye, those bright green irises twinkling like a pair of stars. “you sent your fox out there?”
“how can i say?” brian chuckles. “coincidence?” he leans in to peck jae on the lips, once, despite jae grumbling.
“i swear, you’re the slyest witch i’ve met-”
“-i’m the only witch you’ve met-” and then jae shuts him up with a kiss.
_______________
“it’s a spelled fox,” wonpil inspects the wound. with dowoon propped up on the couch in the dimly lit man cave - vampire cave - his leg is sprawled across the couch, allowing wonpil to kneel onto the carpeted floor and clearly have a look at the bite. the scent of human-nymph blood surges into wonpil’s nose, and it takes every ounce of energy in him to force his fangs inside his mouth. “i think i should have some ointment to deal with it.”
dusting his slacks, wonpil stands, before rummaging through several drawers. after a moment of silence, he comes upon the glass of anti-magic ointment brian had loaned to them a couple of decades back, when jae had gotten too close to the pack of werewolves while picking some wild berries for a jam. “this should work,” wonpil mutters, before uncapping it. there’s a sliver of green smoke escaping out of the glass as wonpil kneels back down. “move your foot over.”
as wonpil pours some of the ointment onto his palm, dowoon watches him. “you’re a vamp, aren’t you, wonpil?”
for a split second, wonpil’s mildly surprised, but remembers the fangs incident from earlier. “mm yeah. um. sorry about the incident earlier. i’m sure it didn’t leave much of a good impression.”
a low chuckle spills past dowoon’s lips, and wonpil bites down on his tongue harder. concentrate on healing him, bloodsucker , he admonishes himself internally. “well, i can’t blame you. i’m sure it’s tough to resist half-human blood.”
“yeah,” wonpil absent-mindedly agrees. his slender fingers gently rub the ointment over the wound. within a few second, the cut begins to shrink, the blood replenishing and the skin gathering over the cut wound. “well. your ankle’s as good as new. just a bit swollen, but that should take another day or two.”
when he glimpses up, he catches dowoon’s glimmering eyes. “thanks, wonpil.”
what does catch wonpil’s attention is the once-empty, dusty glass vase near the corner of the room. he squints as the yellow agrimonies slowly sprout in the vase, before blossoming in full bloom. following wonpil’s line of vision, dowoon turns around to see the agrimonies begin to spill out of the vase. “oh, sorry. didn’t mean that,” dowoon blushes, the tips of his ears red. “sometimes they just… do that.”
wonpil smiles softly. “what do the flowers mean?”
“thankfulness, actually,” dowoon mirrors the vampire’s smile, his smile positively radiant. “i actually moved out here because i was sort of banished from town? i sent an entire line of shops into full bloom once. it was terrifying. kinda moved out here to get some control over it before i move back, but now i kind of wanna stay here for good.” when he finishes, he stares at wonpil, a hopeful yearning in his eyes.
“oh,” wonpil nods his head slowly. “okay.”
dowoon cocks his head at wonpil. “if you’re wondering, you can drink half-nymph blood,” he says, grinning.
at this, wonpil’s eyebrows almost shoot up to his hairline. “i-i… i wasn’t going to drink you! i swear, i just… it’s been a while. i-i don’t actually want to drink you- fuck, this is awkward,” wonpil buries his head in his arms, wishing for the sleeves of his shirt to engulf him whole. above him, dowoon’s laughter is low and carefree.
a fingertip taps his head, and when he peers up, he’s taken aback by the warmth of lips against his. from the awkward position, wonpil stands, before clambering onto the couch, straddling dowoon as they kiss. it’s warm, it’s soft, it’s absolutely addicting as wonpil sinks into the kiss, his hands reaching around to cup the nape of dowoon’s neck. dowoon’s hands touch wonpil’s hips lightly, his smile so wide against the vampire’s lips.
tentatively, wonpil lets his fangs prod out, before they carefully nip at dowoon’s lower lip. a droplet of blood falls onto wonpil’s tongue, and fuck , is brian right - nymph blood, and on top of that actual human blood, tastes so, so good. wonpil’s mind almost completely shuts down as he drinks from the flesh there. under him, dowoon whimpers, the pain a shot before want takes over.
“... i swear they were here- holy shit.” at the sound of jae’s voice, wonpil pulls back, blood dripping from his fangs as he falls out of the nymph’s lap and crashes to the floor with a yowl. alarmed, dowoon glances down at the vampire howling in pain. “holy shit. okay. um. i’m gonna get going.”
and then the door is shut behind jae, who rushes down the hallway to get back to brian with this boot-quaking news.
“you okay?” dowoon mumbles as wonpil scrambles to his feet. when wonpil rubs his eyes, he realises that ambrosias have begun blooming out in between the holes of the worn-out couch, gathering at dowoon’s feet. the boy flushes harder. “sorry.”
“no, it’s… fine.” wonpil plucks an ambrosia, before breathing in the scent. even amongst the sweet nectar, he can detect the hint of dowoon’s nymph blood mixed with it, the sweetness of it tantalising. “are you okay, though?”
“yeah,” dowoon replies, pointing to his lower lip. the wound’s almost completely healed already. “i’m good.”
“that’s good,” wonpil giggles as he settles back onto dowoon’s lap. “‘cause i kind of really wanna have a taste again.”
“be my guest,” dowoon winks. ‘tis to bliss and blood , wonpil thinks, as he bites back down on dowoon’s lower lip. the ambrosias blossom all around them, the love in full bloom.