Chapter Text
The night is silent, musky.
The perfume of the pine trees in the woods (behind the graveyard) sways to the rhythm of quiet gasps. The breeze is cool, just like a glass of americano in a midsummer dream. The moon is up. Bitten, but still bright. A few clouds navigate through the skies, creating shadows on the ground. It’s a pleasant evening, the silhouette of a man that went for a stroll thinks.
He isn’t the type of immortal to often visit these grounds. The last time he was here, war had come to a ceasefire. It’s been more than sixty years. He thought he might pay a visit, to pay respect even if he doesn’t need to.
He has always been an odd vampire.
His footsteps are silent. He doesn’t have the ability to levitate, but he moves as if he did. He’s as careful as a killer cat, as pale as ice, a folklore tale to some and a modern fantasy to others. His hair is the colour of a blueberry. When not hungry or feeding, his eyes are tame and dark. Otherwise, they’re red, the tears of roses and skin of apples in a picnic basket. He’s tall, not too much, and agile. He dresses in modern garments, appropriate for the time and place. Skinny jeans, running shoes, and a jacket hug his shape.
He goes by the name of Min Yoongi. He pretends to be 26 years old. He has actually lived for 260. He’s not out of shape, not yet. At least, that’s what his partner tells him. He doesn’t look a day past twenty-three. He has a youthful face, both a blessing and a curse…
Yoongi didn’t know what to expect tonight. He had sensed something strange in the air, a shift when he had stepped out of the shower just a few hours ago (cloudy mirrors and the sound of Jeongguk, his partner, playing in the living room slowly fading away). He saw a vision, in short. Some vampires have that ability, he included. Thus, the reason he took the car, drove for about an hour, and now stands on holy grounds.
According to folklore, he shouldn’t even be able to freely roam this graveyard. He’s too impure, the son of the night and all evil. But that’s, simply, false. It is a mere rumour invented by humans, perhaps to feel sheltered and protected behind religion. But Yoongi doesn’t really know. He has never been a fan of these divine cultures and neither has he been good with understanding humans. Last time he was one, things were different. And even then he couldn't understand his brothers and sisters. The only one he has ever understood is Jeongguk, and maybe a few mortal friends he has lost with the years.
Many of them can be found here, he remembers. By now, they’re just bodies made ash. They’re the food of worms, empty shells sleeping on the floor. Yoongi misses them, occasionally. He passes a few familiar headstones but doesn’t stop to say hi. Instead, he leaves single roses as he advances; small gifts, big intentions, next to their feet. He misses but has never been too good with words, not when spoken so freely. Flowers express better his wishes, his feelings of remembrance and affection.
But these tombs, what remains of a past that does not feel real anymore, isn’t the reason he’s here tonight. The vision wasn't exactly clear. They never are. It simply showed him this familiar graveyard and–
He hears a whimper. It sounds like the cry for help of a puppy. It comes from the trees to his right, where a fine mist has settled between the timber. How convenient, Yoongi thinks. He moves towards the sound, never once losing composure. All these years alive have taken the fun out of certain things. Exploring included.
He moves pushes away a branch, then another one. They’re always wanting to scratch his face, for some reason, and begins to walk on fallen leaves and twigs. The grass isn’t green here. The ground is covered by a thick layer of mud and residues of the living. He scrunches his nose. He’s at the entrance of the woods. The whimpers get louder.
Eventually, he locates the source of such desperate sounds. As he had guessed by the fright and confusion behind the heartrending song, Yoongi finds himself staring at a baby (in this context, a mortal just turned into an immortal). He’s curled up on the soil, next to a tall tree, hugging the trunk as if his life depended on it. He’s crying blood, the remains of what his human body must have had. He looks young, perhaps not even an adult. Yoongi raises his eyebrows, not really in surprise, but maybe a little impressed. He wonders what he is doing in such a place.
A second later, Yoongi decides to look around. There is no sight of the one who turned him. Yoongi sighs. A bad feeling settles in his stomach. He tastes bile in his mouth, despite being unable to produce any.
“Hey,” he says when he’s in front of the baby. The boy looks up; red eyes the size of Jupiter, hair dirty and long greet the elder. His locks are sticking to his forehead. Yoongi isn’t good with emotions. He might be dead, too, but he’s not heartless. His stomach churns as he crouches, never taking his eyes off the kid, “Are you okay? Where’s your marker?”
The boy, skin pale and smudged with dirt, hugs the trunk a little tighter. It’s clear he is not alright. It was ridiculous to ask. But Yoongi still wants to be polite.
“What’s a marker?” the boy asks. His voice is soft despite being infested with the cold shivers and nerves. He blinks, uncomfortably, as if trying to get something off his eyes. He’s young, Yoongi thinks again, and probably unaware of what happened to him. The churning continues, “Who are you? What are you?”
So it’s clear, then. Yoongi smiles, or tries to.
“My name is Yoongi,” he says, still calm, “I’m a vampire.”
“Vampire,” the kid mouths, his eyes becoming even rounder. Humans don’t tend to be aware of their existence. Most disregard them as tales. But there is no point in trying to sugarcoat this, Yoongi tries to convince himself. The boy was turned, anyway. The least he should get is the truth, “Am I… am I also a… umm…”
“A vampire?” Yoongi asks for him. The boy nods, frantically. His pale cheeks become paler, “Yes. Someone bit you and turned you into one.”
“Oh,” the boy sounds breathy, a little light, as if he was about to pass out. Yoongi prepares himself to catch him, just in case.
“Where is your marker, kid?” Yoongi asks again, carefully extending his hand and tracing the shape of the red mark left on the tender neck. It looks like a half-moon, the satellite shining tonight. The boy whimpers at the touch. Hurt. It burns, Yoongi knows from experience. The baby keeps crying blood.
“D-Don’t know,” he says, tries to move closer to the trunk although he’s already glued to it. Yoongi drops his hand, “He wasn’t here when I-I woke up. He just b-bit me and l-left.”
Yoongi, now, furrows his eyebrows.
“Left?” he repeats, the kid nods, “So, you haven’t–”
“I feel faint,” the boy interrupts, crying harder. Red streams colour his skin. Skin that is turning translucent with every second he weeps. Yoongi presses his lips into a thin line. He got his answer.
Conversion has always been a sensitive topic. When carried out right, the human is bitten, turned into a vampire, and then cared for by the one responsible for the mark on their neck. These vampires are called the markers. They are meant to feed the turned once they awake, they are meant to protect and comfort. Without the markers, the babies will be bound to a doomed fate. They don’t survive and join the mortals, their past lives, but in the ground.
The fact that this child was abandoned only meant one thing, Yoongi thinks disapprovingly. It’s similar to one of the problems humans face, equivalent to one of the worst forms of abuse in the mortal world.
Yoongi sighs. He now understands. It seems this was one of the many plans of the devil.
“Come here,” the older vampire says, knowing there is no time to argue with the part of his brain that is telling him to stop. He raises his arms, leaves them in the air, as if signalling the kid to hug him. The baby looks at him, confused. He doesn’t move, “Trust me. You’ll feel better.”
A few more seconds pass. At last, when a cloud moves to eclipse the moon, the kid crawls towards Yoongi and lets him place his arms around him. Almost immediately, the young vampire relaxes. His shoulders drop and Yoongi hears a sigh of relief.
Yoongi has never been good with kids. He awkwardly pats the baby on the back as he changes his position. The older vampire takes a seat on the ground, trying to ignore the gooey texture of the soul and accommodates the kid in his embrace. He cradles him, like a tiny human. After this, not stopping to think, Yoongi takes his own wrist to his mouth and slits it open with his fangs. Blood (dark in colour, like wine, and thicker than human blood, similar to a clog) starts to pour out of the wound. Yoongi doesn’t flinch and places his wrist next to the young vampire’s mouth.
Out of pure instinct, the baby parts his lips, wraps his mouth around the cut skin and begins to suck. He takes everything he needs. He seems to be in a rush, drinking fast as if afraid he won’t be able to satisfy his thirst just in time. He closes his eyes. Yoongi watches him silently, thinking and thinking. It doesn’t hurt him, to feed the young bat. His new fangs are not as sharp as an adult’s. It’s the same feeling of getting a tattoo. There’s pressure, but it doesn’t necessarily hurt.
When he has had enough, the young vampire releases the wrist with a soft exhale. The tears have dried out, making his face look smudged; cheap mascara all over his large eyes. His cheeks become rosy and his irises turn a soft brown, close to gold. The kid is cute, like a puppy you would see at a pet centre.
“Thank you,” he says, managing to sit down properly. His voice is soft, tiny.
“It’s no problem,” Yoongi lies. It is an inconvenience. Maybe it does bother him a little bit. But, he knows it was the right thing to do. Yoongi has always been odd. He’s a vampire with morals. Sometimes, more like a human than an immortal, “Feeling better?”
The young one nods. Yoongi nods, too, before he’s standing up and offering a hand to the boy.
“I’m Hueningkai, by the way,” the kid says when he’s standing up. Yoongi is taken aback. He’s tall, maybe too tall, “Or just Kai.”
“Okay, just Kai,” Yoongi says, straining his neck to properly look at the boy. He might be as tall as Namjoon, one of his only vampire friends. He resists the urge to shake his head, “I’m sure you have questions. But I can’t answer them here. Follow me and I'll tell you everything you need to know.”
Kai nods, a little okay passing through his lips. He shakes his legs, as if suddenly not used to them, and slowly starts to follow the older vampire. Yoongi makes sure to walk at a comfortable rate.
“Where are we going?” he asks, sometime later, when the moon is no longer being obstructed by grey clouds.
“My house,” Yoongi says, not very thrilled by the idea. But it’s better than an old, creepy, graveyard. Not even vampires are fond of them. Most are outdated, anyway, “But, first, I have to stop by the supermarket.”
Kai, again like a puppy that has instantly trusted a human, nods. He follows. It’s a side effect of drinking another vampire’s blood. It makes the youngsters a little dependent, it makes them trust, loyal.
“Why the supermarket though?” he asks.
“I’ll explain on the way.”
…
“Hyung,” Jeon Jeongguk blinks. His face is a puzzle, the game console controller he was holding falls on his lap. In the background, Yoongi hears Taehyung (a human friend) asking him if he’s alright. They’re playing and talking online. Jeongguk, hair on his eyes and headphones covering one ear, can only stare. He stays frozen, long enough to make Yoongi’s shadow stiffen. When he speaks again, he’s removing his headphones and getting up from the sofa. He looks confused, “I tell you to go buy bread and you bring home a teenager instead?”
“To be fair, we also bought bread,” Yoongi says. He is smiling tightly, nudges Kai’s ribs (or more like his stomach) as a signal. The kid lifts the eco bag (that Jeongguk keeps forcing Yoongi to use) and shows that they, indeed, went to the supermarket, “I even got eggs and butter. And I also got you banana milk. I know you like them.”
“Don’t,” Jeongguk shakes his head, walks towards them, “Don’t change the subject, hyung. Who is he?”
Yoongi nudges the tall teenager again. Another signal. They rehearsed this in the car.
“Hello. I’m Hueningkai,” he says, bowing. Jeongguk can barely hear his voice. The boy's cheeks are red, once again. He’s so pale, “Nice to meet you. I’m… ah…I’m…”
“He’s a baby vamp,” Yoongi fills in for him. Kai nods, softly, and decides to stare at a spot on the carpeted floor. He’s hugging the eco bag, holding it close to his chest, “Freshly turned.”
“Oh,” Jeongguk stops. He likes to know that he’s knowledgeable when it comes to vampires. Yoongi has filled him in with the details over the course of five years, “Did you…”
“No,” he’s quick to shake his head, “Do you think we could, umm, talk in private?”
Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate. He nods.
“Let’s go to our room” he says. For some reason, all of their serious talks happen in their bedroom. It’s a human thing, he likes to think. Humans are funny, “Hueningkai–”
“Kai is fine,” the kid says, shyly. Yoongi witnesses as Jeongguk’s neutral face breaks into a tiny smile. It reaches his eye.
“Kai. You can stay here in the living room. I… ah! You’re young. Do you play Overwatch?” Jeongguk asks, taking his controller and waving in the air. A tiny offering.
“I’ve played before,” the younger one nods again.
“Awesome. Here,” Jeongguk gives him the little device, removes his earphones from where they hang around his neck and places them on Kai’s head. The young vampire looks at Jeongguk as if he was Santa on Christmas day. His eyes sparkle. It reminds Yoongi of Jeongguk himself, “You can play with my friend. Just tell him you’re one of Yoongi’s cousins and that I asked you to cover for me, yeah?”
Kai keeps on nodding. Another little “Thank you,” leaves his mouth as Jeongguk tells him to sit down.
“Oh. And give me that,” Jeongguk laughs as he tugs the bag the boy still keeps in his grasp. Kai’s cheeks turn even darker. Embarrassed, Yoongi imagines, “Thank you.”
When he’s done making sure the boy is comfortable, Jeongguk turns around, grabs the vampire's arms and leads him to their shared room. Yoongi lets himself be dragged. Says nothing until Jeongguk has cornered him against the closed door of their room. He throws the eco bag on the bed.
Jeongguk is taller. He’s handsome. Has a fit body, a sharp (yet soft) face. He looks tender, delicate, but also masculine and strong. He's the definition of contrast.
If it wasn’t for their current situation, Yoongi would be kissing him all over his face. But, right now, he feels very much intimidated by his very human, very confused and slightly pissed boyfriend.
“Hey, love,” Yoongi bites his lip.
“Don’t ‘hey love’ me,” he says. He doesn't scream but he is not sweet. Yoongi squirms, “What happened, hyung? Where did you find him? Why did you bring him here?"
Again, there’s no point in trying to sugarcoat anything.
“I had a vision.”
“A vision,” Jeongguk repeats, “You didn’t say anything, though.”
“I didn’t want to alarm you,” Yoongi says, tentatively reaches for Jeongguk’s cheek. The younger man lets him touch him, exhaling his anger through his nose, “It wasn’t very clear, but it did catch my attention. It showed me the place where Kai would be. But I never saw him in my head. It did, however, leave me with a strange feeling. I had to investigate.”
“You didn’t tell me,” Jeongguk bites his lip. He leans against Yoongi’s knuckles and thumb. He's sulking.
“Because I knew you would start worrying. Besides, this week has been rough for you, with your research and all,” Jeongguk was in the middle of his master's degree. It hasn’t been the kindest to him, “You were enjoying your game and I really didn't want to ruin your mood. I’m sorry.”
Jeongguk closes his eyes. They’re talking in murmurs, afraid to be heard. Although, Jeongguk doubts Kai will listen to any of this with Taehyung shouting in his ear. His friend tends to be loud, especially around kids.
“I understand your intentions,” Jeongguk exhales, softly. His warm breathe falls on Yoongi’s cool hand, “But I would have rather know.”
“Okay, okay,” Yoongi says, softly, he pulls Jeongguk closer to him, “I’m sorry.”
He speaks against the human’s mouth, making him smile. He closes his eyes. They share a tiny kiss, lips pressed against each other’s. They’re each other’s weakness, their soft spots, unable to properly be angry for more than a few moments. Jeongguk, not before leaving another tiny peck, moves towards the bed. He takes a seat on the edge and watches Yoongi, slightly dazzled, pace.
“You seem a little pale,” the younger man comments.
He’s barely twenty-five. Grown-up but nothing compared to all the years left in Yoongi’s past. Sometimes, it makes the vampire feel a little odd when he’s laying down next to Jeongguk. He has lived multiple lives. If he had a soul, his would be old (but not so wise).
Naturally, as tradition would indicate it, Yoongi should be interested in someone like him. Yoongi should be interested in another child of the night. But humans have always been dear to him, in peculiar ways. Not all, but some. Jeongguk just happened to captivate him, five years ago, when they both shared a drink at the bar down the road. He was supposed to be a quick snack. But things didn’t go as planned.
“I had to feed the child,” Yoongi explains, “His marker wasn’t there when he woke up, after he was turned. So, I fed him instead. I couldn’t let the boy starve to death. You know I wouldn’t have been able to live with that. He’s just a kid.”
“So young,” Jeongguk massages his nape, “Do you know how old he could be?”
“He looks seventeen,” Yoongi neighs, “But I haven’t asked. Kids these days look younger than their actual age.”
“You’re just old. That’s why you think that,” Jeongguk smiles. Yoongi glares at him, “So, does this make him your progeny?”
“I… I’m actually not sure,” Yoongi sighs. He goes towards the bed, sits down and lets his head fall on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Jeongguk combs his hair. His fingers feel like dandelions, “I wasn’t the one who bit him. So I’m not sure if we could develop the marker-progeny bond.”
“You fed him, though,” Jeongguk intervenes, “And I suppose you comforted him, too.”
“Yeah. But the mark itself is more powerful. It’s the one responsible for the bond,” he says, closing his eyes, “In human terms, he isn’t really my descendant. But I still treated him like my own by deciding to take care of him.”
“A little like a foster parent,” Jeongguk offers, laughing a little. Yoongi grunts, “I think you’ve become a dad, hyung.”
“And what about you? We’re a team, remember?”
Jeongguk, still laughing, gasps. He tangles his fingers with Yoongi’s black hair. It’s softer than what it appears. He tugs a little bit.
“I’m a dad? But I’m too young to be a dad. At least you're a few hundred years old,” he says, “I haven’t even finished uni.”
“Well,” the vampire smiles, “It’s your fate, now. It’s either this or divorce.”
“But we’re not married.”
“Yet,” Yoongi adds, lifting his head, just in time to watch a cloud of crimson shade dust the younger’s cheeks. Jeongguk is, suddenly, short of breath.
“What?”
And Yoongi, because he’s mean and literally a son of the devil (Jeongguk’s words), smirks.
“We should talk to the kid,” Yoongi kisses Jeongguk’s lips, “I haven’t gotten too much out of him. He just sits and nods. And, well, you know I’m not the best with young people. You are better at talking to them. So…”
“Yes. I’ll talk to him,” Jeongguk agrees, immediately, but doesn’t move. Instead, he pats his lap and looks at the vampire with serious eyes. Yoongi knows what he means before he speaks, “But, first, come here. You’re pale and you need blood.”
“No, Jeongguk,” Yoongi shakes his head, “I’m okay.”
“You look like a sheet of paper, hyung,” Jeongguk pouts, forces Yoongi on top of him. The vampire shakes his head one more time. He's doing this a lot today.
He doesn’t like to feed on Jeongguk, not anymore at least. Instead, he often gets bags of donated blood at hospitals, the ones no one wants (when they get old). They’re not as good as fresh blood but Yoongi has chosen to stay away from sucking. After meeting Jeongguk, something in him snapped, made him want to stop living like that.
It’s only in desperate times, when he’s weak and can barely walk, that Jeongguk offers him his neck. He has tender skin. It’s always warm against his fangs (would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy making Jeongguk moan every time he fed on him). But he would rather not. It leaves his boyfriend dizzy afterwards, always wanting to sleep.
“I have one more sack in the fridge,” Yoongi kisses Jeongguk’s neck, as an alternative, right on top of the vein. Jeongguk shudders, “That will do. Don’t worry, yeah? I need you sober right now. Please.”
And Jeongguk can only comply.
“Fine,” he sighs. Yoongi gets off him and helps the younger up, “But you’re cuddling me after this. As you said, it’s been a rough week and I’ve missed you.”
“I can do that,” Yoongi pulls him close again. He holds him by the waist, kisses his collarbones over the thin shirt he’s wearing. Jeongguk smells like shampoo and flowers. It’s nice.
Hand-in-hand, they leave the bedroom and return to the living room. Kai is talking to Taehyung while he shoots at his enemies (or whatever you are supposed to do in Overwatch, he's not a big fan). Jeongguk tells him the kid is doing great, sitting next to him to watch him play.
When the older vampire turns to look at his partner, away from the tv, he sees Jeongguk smiling at Kai; as if he was the brighter star in the night sky, while an enemy cries in the background. Maybe tonight wouldn't be that bad, Yoongi thinks.
Jeongguk cheers when Kai defeats the rival team. They high-five and Yoongi covers his smile.