Chapter Text
Jeongguk stared at the invitation in his hand. The dim light flickered overhead, and the golden trimming and elegant penmanship danced across the page.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for the couple. The words, though, written with so much care on the delicate parchment, left a bitter taste in his mouth. Standing in his broom-cupboard of a bedsit above the bakery, dirty pots teetering in a pile near the sink, his sweater stained with dip from several days ago, not for the first time Jeongguk contemplated what the hell he was doing with this life.
He’d be twenty-six this year and what did he have to show for it? A mountain of debt, an ageing cat, and a car that kids laughed at when he drove by.
This was the third wedding invitation he’d received in as many months.
Had he missed the memo? Had all of his old classmates made a pact without him? Why did nobody want to marry him ?
Well, he knew the answer to that last one well enough, but still, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He’d been destined for great things, that’s what all his teachers had said. He hadn’t been handsome or strong or popular at school, but he had been smart. That was supposed to be worth something. ‘You just wait, Jeongguk,’ Mrs. Oh had told Jeongguk the fourth time he’d had his rucksack chucked in the bins behind the school gym hall. ‘After you all graduate, they’ll have peaked and you’ll just be starting.”
Counting each year that went by with great things yet to befall him, Jeongguk was beginning to suspect he’d been lied to.
A faint meow caught his attention and the soft fur of his old cat tickled at his calf. Right. Cat food. He’d been just about to run to the store when the formal looking envelope had stopped him.
“Yeah, alright old man,” he said, crouching down and scratching at the cat’s black ears. “You won’t let me mope for too long will you?”
He wasn’t entirely sure how old Tteokbokki actually was, but regardless of that, he knew for certain that the small cat had an old man’s soul. Ever since Jeongguk had spotted him yowling in the rain, hiding in the alley next to the bakery, Jeongguk had been soft for the small creature. He’d barely been able to see him, his black fur camouflaging him well against the night, but he’d taken him upstairs and dried him off and named him. Tteokbokki had been with him ever since.
The cat meowed again, headbutting Jeongguk’s outstretched hand.
“Okay, food, alright.”
It was still dark as he clanked down the steps outside, the frosty air biting at his exposed fingertips. Still, it wasn’t far to the nearest corner shop. There were a few benefits to living in the middle of Seoul, after all.
So early in the morning it was only Jeongguk and one other customer in the shop, with the other guy hovering at the back, near the frozen goods. Jeongguk frowned as he passed him, a beanie pulled down over his head, a scarf covering his nose, and his jacket collar popped. He seemed to be bouncing on his feet, mumbling to himself.
Weird. This time of day, you got the weirdo’s. Shit. Was Jeongguk a weirdo?
The thought occurred to him as he dumped a box of cat food at the checkout and he grimaced a little at the tired-looking girl behind the counter.
“Two-four eight-four, please,” she said in a monotone voice.
“Oh.” Jeongguk wrinkled his nose and rubbed the paper money between his fingers.
“Oh?”
“I - Sorry, I’ve only got two thousand and twenty. It - It used to be less?”
“Yeah,” the girl raised an eyebrow. “New price list.”
“Ah.”
The two stared at each other for a moment. All Jeongguk could really hear was the other man’s faint mumbles. What a fantastic start to the day.
“Is it for your cat?” the cashier eventually asked.
“The … cat food? Yeah. I’m not quite at that level yet.”
The girl eyed him while smacking her lips around a ball of pink gum and Jeongguk could almost taste his regret at not changing his sweater before he left.
Pop.
She snorted and held out her palm. “Give me the cash, I’ll let you off this time.”
“Oh, ace, thank you.” Jeongguk physically uncoiled in relief and handed over the cash.
“What’s it called?” the cashier asked as she slotted the notes into the till.
“Tteokbokki.”
She snorted again, though with more of a smile this time. “Stupid name. I love stupid pet names,” she said. “Are they ginger, then?”
“No, black. He just likes tteokbokki.”
The girl sighed, “Don’t we all,” before breaking out a gummy smile. “Have a nice day.”
Jeongguk took the offered bag and started back a few steps. “Thank you,” he said in a bit of a croak. “And you.” As he made to turn around he caught the eye of the weirdo at the back. The other man was standing stock still and was staring at him, his eyes blood red.
No, Jeongguk blinked. Not red. He looked again and the man turned away, his eyes just a normal brown.
A trick of the light, perhaps? Or a trick of Jeongguk's sleep-deprived, caffeine-fuelled, and probably malnourished brain. He shrugged and headed back out into the cold, the bell above the door ringing as he let it swing shut behind him.
The wedding invitation was still glimmering from the sideboard when he arrived back home. The rest of the world was starting to wake up if the voices floating up from the kitchens below were anything to go by.
“Okay, Tteok, big decisions ahead. Tuna or chicken?”
Tteokbokki pondered the sachets in Jeongguk’s hands for a moment, tail swaying happily, before he gently sniffed the corner of the chicken.
“Wise choice.”
With the cat fed and purring on the bed, his dirty clothes switched out for his only slightly crumpled uniform, and the scent of coffee mixing in with whatever the hell they were cooking downstairs, Jeongguk felt a little more ready to face the morning.
“Morning Mrs. Wu,” Jeongguk called over his shoulder as he jumped over the short wall at the back of his building.
The small, elderly Mrs. Wu - already in her apron - sent her toothless grin Jeongguk’s way. “Good morning Jeongguk. Have a nice day.”
“I always try,” Jeongguk shot back with a wave. It was true, he did always try, but trying didn’t always lead to succeeding in his experience. Exhibit A for this was parked behind his bedsit, all two-thousand-eight-hundred pounds of unreliability.
Inside his car he went through the usual motions: pray, take a few steadying breaths, grit his teeth, and hope for the best. Most of the time it worked. This morning, though -
“No, no, no. Shit, fucking, shit it.”
The engine juddered painfully, whining as he kept turning the ignition. “No,” Jeongguk whined along with it. Eventually, as the windscreen fogged up even more and the engine remained stubbornly uncooperative, Jeongguk dropped his hand from the keys. “Well, shit,” he muttered, checking his watch. He still had forty minutes until he had to be at the rink to open up, he could do that, he just needed -
“Jimin, hi, look, my car -”
“Hello, you’ve reached zero-two three-four-eight five-three-nine-one. Looks like nobody’s around but leave your name and number and let us know who you want to talk to, and they’ll give you a call back.”
Jeongguk pouted at the receiver, struggling to hear the unfamiliar voice over the racket inside Mrs. Wu’s kitchen.
“Er, hi, this - This is Jeon Jeongguk, for Jimin? Er, Park Jimin. I think I have the right number. I, er, well, I’m on my way over to yours. My car’s dead, so, I really need a lift in to work. Hope that’s okay? So, yeah, I’ll see you in a bit.”
He bit his lip. It would probably be okay. He’d never actually been inside Jimin’s house, but he’d dropped him off there a few times, he knew where it was. Jimin wouldn’t turn him down. Probably wouldn’t turn him down.
“Thanks, Mrs. Wu!” he yelled over his shoulder as he hung up the receiver and zipped up his jacket to head out.
It had warmed up since the morning, but not by much. Jeongguk shivered as his feet slipped over the pavement, but at least he could feel his toes still. It was at least a half an hour walk to Jimin’s part of town, a little nicer than the areas Jeongguk usually found himself in.
Fumbling in his rucksack, he pulled out his walkman, concentrating on untangling his headphone cord while avoiding other people on the street. When at last he got them free he smiled. At least he got the chance to listen to his mixtape, even without his car. His mom had given him the walkman for Christmas, after his last one had started spewing sparks earlier in the year. Jeongguk had carried on using it regardless, until it chewed up his favourite Pink Floyd cassette. He’d been annoyed at the world for a good day and a half after that.
But that didn’t matter now. He’d spent the last weekend compiling a new mixtape; the greatest mixtape of all time, in his opinion.
The first song trickled through his headphones.
“Duh, duh, duh,” Jeongguk sang along to the chords, letting the long introduction wash over him as the words kicked in.
A teenage girl giggled as she walked past him, Jeongguk humming under his breath. He fell silent, biting his lip and blinking down at the pavement.
Realigning his thoughts, Jeongguk began to wonder a little more about Jimin. Would he be annoyed at him for just turning up? The truth was, he didn’t really know Jimin very well at all. They were the same age, Jeongguk knew that for sure. Jimin worked at the pool complex next to the roller skating rink and they’d met in the parking lot when Jeongguk had first started. Jeongguk had been pacing nervously before his first-ever shift, becoming increasingly annoyed at the boy sitting on the nearby wall, soda in hand, kicking his feet against the brick, and watching him with smiling eyes.
Eventually, too highly strung, he’d snapped.
“Can I help you?” he’d barked across the tarmac.
Jimin had shrugged and jumped down with a level of gracefulness that Jeongguk could only dream of.
“I don’t think so,” he'd said. “I thought maybe I could help you.”
It had been strange, really, how easily Jimin had won him over. His voice had been sweet and soft, his smile gentle, his eyes shining. Jeongguk had relented pretty easily.
“Help me how?” he asked.
“You’re starting at the rink, right? I have a friend who used to work there. I could let you in on a few secrets, start you off right.”
“I - Yeah,” Jeongguk had blinked like an idiot for a few seconds before laughing. “That would be - That would actually be really great.”
“No problem,” Jimin had grinned, cheeks getting round. It had been cute. Still was cute.
“I’m Jeongguk. Jeon Jeongguk.”
“Hi, Jeongguk Jeon Jeongguk. I’m Park Jimin,” Jimin had teased, and then he’d been off. “So, first off, the manager watches the security footage out the back like a madman, so don’t do anything weird out there or he’ll be on you for the rest of time.”
Jeongguk had laughed at the serious expression on Jimin’s face. “Is that what happened to your friend?”
“That’s exactly what happened to him,” Jimin had replied darkly. Then he grinned, eyes almost vanishing, and slapped Jeongguk’s arm with surprising strength. “But I can tell you're not as much of an idiot as him, so you’ll be okay.”
That was almost two years ago now, and the pair had met most lunchtimes to hang out together amongst the parked cars. So, yeah, Jimin was a friend, but he was also pretty weird about some things that most other people weren’t weird about. Maybe turning up barely announced at his house would be one of those things?
Jeongguk was forcibly reminded of a time he’d tried to get him to come along with him to a work karaoke party. Jeongguk had really wanted to go - though, of course, had acted devastatingly cool about the whole thing in front of his colleagues. He’d practically begged Jimin not to make him go alone, but Jimin refused. Park Jimin, who loved to meet new people and dance and have fun, had all but yelled at Jeongguk when he had kept on at him.
“It’s just not my scene,” he said, with a shrug of his shoulders.
At that moment, Jeongguk’s cracked trainers stopped on the sidewalk and he settled his gaze on nineteen Changjo Street. He really hoped that spontaneous lifts to work were Jimin’s scene, or he was screwed.
It was a strange looking house, really. Jeongguk had thought that from the moment he’d first seen it, dropping Jimin off after a late shift. In the dead of night, rain pelting down, it had looked like something out of a horror film. In the daytime, sure, it was less intimidating, but Jeongguk couldn’t quite shake the feeling that with a few years of neglect it would be the house that young boys dared each other to knock at the door of.
Perhaps it had something to do with the ancient bay windows, or the high roof, or maybe the abandoned porch, weeds curling around the pillars at the front door. Jimin had explained it to him once, that the architect had been inspired after a trip to America, and this was the result. Personally, Jeongguk thought the guy would have been better to keep his ideas to himself, but maybe he was missing that artistic flair. It certainly stood out, he supposed.
Either way, Jeongguk climbed the stairs to the front door and brought down the knocker - a roaring tiger in tarnished bronze - three times.
Only a few seconds later the door creaked open to reveal … not Jimin.
Jeongguk wavered. He had a vague idea from Jimin that there were a few people living with him. This guy - with baggy clothes covering a thin frame and dark circles under his eyes maring the smooth pale skin of his face - looked familiar. Had Jeongguk seen him calling in to visit Jimin a few times?
The other man raised an eyebrow.
“Are you Jeongguk?” he asked, his voice a tired growl.
Jeongguk licked his lips. “Er, yep. Hi.”
“Hi,” the other man echoed. He smirked a little. “I heard your message. Jimin’s in the bath, but he’ll be out soon. Come on in, you can wait for him.”
“Oh, thanks.” Jeongguk grimaced as he followed the man into the house. He’d really been hoping to get going.
Inside, however, he was pleasantly surprised. Not creepy at all. The man led him across a creaking wooden floor and into a large living room. If Jeongguk had suspected more than a few people lived here before, he was certain of it now. Eclectic was the word that sprang to mind. Against one wall a large fish tank took up most of the shelving space, brightly coloured fish and coral jumping out against the wood-panelled wall. Nailed above it and around it were framed prints of … Jeongguk couldn’t quite tell what. Ink drawn creatures he’d never seen, swirls of text in a language he didn’t know.
The couch was covered in a variety of blankets and pillows, all thrown haphazardly on lumpy cushions. Underneath its feet, a striped rug curled at the corners, clashing with the mossy green carpet. On the opposite wall the boxy television sat in the middle of a purpose built unit, trinkets and lamps and candles and empty bottles and stacks of paper adorned the shelves around it.
Near the door a bamboo bookcase strained under the weight of several lofty tombs, a heavy black box with wires sticking out left right and centre, and a heavy looking glass ball that balanced precariously on the top shelf.
Jeongguk’s gaze dropped back to the other man, who was levelling him with a somewhat suspicious look. Jeongguk coughed. “Do I know you?” he asked, hoping he sounded curious rather than nervous.
“No,” the man answered quickly. Then he wrinkled his nose a little, looking away as he shrugged. “I may have dropped lunch off to Jimin a few times.”
“Cool.”
The pair stood in silence for a few moments, all the while Jeongguk trying to pretend like he couldn’t see the way the other man’s fist kept clenching and unclenching. He really hoped Jimin came down soon.
Eventually, the man seemed to tire of the silence. “Min Yoongi,” he half grunted, sucking in air. “Nice to meet you.”
Min Yoongi held out a large hand, which Jeongguk gripped firmly. “Yeah, nice to meet you.”
Apparently, that was enough to break the ice. Yoongi’s lips twitched, almost like a smile, and he crossed his arms around his chest, sniffing a little before he said, “Sorry, I’m a bit out of it. I work nights, was just getting in when you called.”
“That’s okay,” Jeongguk replied. “Is it just the two of you here?" he asked, twirling a finger towards the ceiling.
Yoongi raised his eyes to the floor above. “No,” he said slowly. “There’s,” he drew his eyebrows together like he had to think about it, “five of us in total. I think it’s only me and Jimin in right now. Everyone else is at work.”
Something clattered in the hallway and Jeongguk shifted his weight forward to peer around the door. Not a something, but a someone. A tall someone, his large eyes peeking out from beneath a messy fringe. He was wrapped up ready to face the chill outside, scarf tight to his neck and gloves tucked under the sleeves of a thick coat. At his feet, a small spaniel barked at him.
“And me, but only for a second,” the man said in a deep voice, crouching quickly to scratch the dog’s ear. He grinning at them and it was such a bright smile that Jeongguk could almost feel his skin warm in the glow of it. “I’m super late. Good boy, Merlin,” he cooed at the dog.
Next to him, Yoongi let out a sigh. Clearly this wasn’t the man’s first offence. “Tae, I told you -”
“Yeah! I know, next time I’ll definitely listen.” He was already halfway down the corridor, his hand on the front door as he yelled over his shoulder. “See you later. Bye, newbie.”
“Oh, er, bye!” Jeongguk started, though the door swung shut before the words were completely out.
In the quiet lull left behind, Yoongi added, “That’s Taehyung. Tae. He’s a lot.”
Taehyung. Huh.
“So, he lives -”
Jeongguk was cut off by an almighty yell. A blur of colour shot past Yoongi and Jeongguk stumbled back as Jimin wrapped his arms around him.
“Jeongguk!” Jimin yelled. “Happy nineteen eighty-seven! I can’t believe I haven’t seen you all year.”
“All year being the past two weeks?” Jeongguk laughed, setting Jimin back down on the floor.
“Far too long,” Jimin agreed. He stepped back, perhaps to give Jeongguk some room to breath, perhaps just to keep moving. Yoongi must have entered his periphery as, all of a sudden, he gasped. “Yoongi, go to bed, you look beat.”
“I was keeping your guest company,” the other man retorted, eyebrows high on his forehead and a slight smirk on his face.
“Yeah,” Jimin scoffed. “I’m sure you were great company, with your eyes half closed.”
“I couldn’t leave him alone, could I?” He tapped his thigh, whistling at the dog. “Come on, sweetpea.”
With that Yoongi turned on the spot and headed to the door.
“Oh, er, thank you,” Jeongguk called after him.
Jimin, however, huffed. “Excuse me.”
Yoongi’s head appeared around the door frame once more, lips pursed in a question. Jimin tapped his cheek, eyes twinkling, clearly biting down a smile. Jeongguk eyed the scene, frozen to the spot. Though Yoongi let out a sigh, it was clear that he didn’t mean it as he shuffled back into the room, pressed himself close to Jimin’s side and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.
Jimin hummed. “Sleep tight,” he sang to Yoongi’s once more retreating form. Turning to Jeongguk, still stuck to the spot, he shrugged. “Ignore him, he gets grumpy when he’s not eaten.” As if that was what had Jeongguk in a meltdown. “What’s this about your car, then?”
~
On their way at last, Jeongguk watched as the houses sailed by the passenger seat window.
“So,” he croaked above the quiet hum of the radio. “You - You and Yoongi?” He set his eyes on Jimin, wondering if the other man would simply ignore the comment.
Jimin didn’t ignore him, but met his gaze for a moment before looking back at the road.
“Does it bother you?” he asked, lightly.
“No. No, not at all,” Jeongguk rushed. “I just -” He bit his lip. How best to put it? “You didn’t seem to be worried about my reaction,” he said, slowly.
“No,” Jimin replied, as if he was humouring Jeongguk. Maybe he was. “I suppose not.”
“What if I had wanted to cause problems for you?”
At his words, Jimin smirked, looking at him with a cocked eyebrow. “I would have changed your mind,” he teased. Jeongguk knew that if he’d been able to, Jimin would have wrapped an arm around his shoulder, just to make him uncomfortable. “I’m very persuasive.”
Jeongguk didn’t take the bait. He couldn’t bend his mind to it. Beneath them, the road bumped and juddered against the wheels of the car. “I’m the same,” Jeongguk breathed, half hoping Jimin wouldn’t hear him.
“Persuasive?” Jimin grinned.
“No, er,” Jeongguk trailed off, his cheeks heating up.
It took a second for Jimin’s expression to morph into something else. “Oh!” he burst out. “Oh.” Jeongguk watched as he gnawed on his bottom lip. Jimin looked at him again, conspiratorially.
“Good,” he said. Jeongguk sent him a tentative smile back. “Don’t worry, homefry, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Thanks.”
“I have a friend you should meet,” Jimin carried on, while Jeongguk tried to will his heartbeat to slow down. That had been just a little terrifying. “Taehyung, he's lovely. He'd bring you out of your shell.”
Jeongguk ruffled at that. "I'm not in a shell," he countered. “And I think I met him, actually, for a second.”
“Oh? And?”
The image of those large eyes and that dazzling smile flashed across his mind.
Jimin grinned. “I told you. Lovely.”
Pulling into the parking lot Jeongguk bade Jimin a speedy goodbye before pelting to the rink's staff entrance. Inside the lights were on and the faint sound of generic pop music filled the large space. Jeongguk's heart sank.
“Oh, hello, so nice of you to join us," came a voice from behind the counter. Jeongguk turned just in time to see his manager rise up from behind a pile of skates.
“Sorry Mr. Baek,” he rushed, jogging over to join the older man. He pulled off his coat, grimacing about how hot he now felt, his skin warm and clammy.
Mr. Baek did not seem to accept his apology. “No, no, no, don’t you worry about it," he continued, waving his arms about dramatically. Jeongguk winced at the sarcasm in his tone. "I’ve just been setting up the rink, sorting out the register, heating up the breakfast rolls, all by myself. Funny, I thought I paid someone to do that for me.”
“I said sorry," Jeongguk replied. "My car broke down, I got here as fast as I could.”
“Sure," the other man scoffed and Jeongguk knew he didn't believe a word. "Look lively, we’ve got that under twelves party at ten.”
~
“Yeah, they reckon it was an animal attack, though. They’ve been checking the local zoos and large animal breeders.”
Jeongguk’s ears pricked up and he cocked his head as he reached for the top shelves. The two girls working the floor with him carried on their conversation, clearly uninterested in the mess currently covering the ground as the babble of children screamed and giggled and cried around them.
“As if,” a second girl said, her curled hair bouncing around large earrings. “What do they think, some bear’s come down from the mountains? It would have been seen.”
Silently, Jeongguk agreed. They were talking about the recent attacks, of course; they were the only thing people seemed interested in talking about these days, appearing in all the news bulletins like clockwork. Even Jeongguk, who barely kept up with current events, knew that the attack at the weekend had brought the total number into double figures. Surely no animal would have the wherewithal to go so long undetected?
“I’m telling you,” the girl carried on, voice muffled by the soundtrack of screeches and bright pop music. “It’ll turn out to be some nut doing it all for kicks.”
“Mega. That’s really reassuring, that, thank you so much,” the first girl responded before plastering a smile on her face as a family approached the desk. “Welcome to Rockin’ Rolla’ World. Two kids, one adult?”
The girl with the earrings caught Jeongguk still staring and shook her head at him, eyes wide. The ‘get bent’ crystal clear. He shrugged and moved further down the floor.
The conversation stayed with him, though, as he collected empty hotdog plates strewn about the place.
People were getting more and more scared, and more and more desperate, that much was obvious. Every day the mothers visiting the rink held their kid’s hands more tightly and watched more vigilantly, with groups of young girls huddling close together before leaving. They’d even had a directive from the head office to make sure all staff were on the lookout. Apparently the police thought whoever it was might be drawn to busy places in search of more victims.
Jeongguk had dismissed it at the time, but it was seeming more likely with every new report. There were so many people that came to the rink each day, or the other places on the complex; why would it be surprising that someone looking to cause trouble might come here? Turning his eyes to the rink, there were a few people circling the floor alone, caught in the colourful spinning lights. What was to stop someone from luring them away to somewhere more secluded?
Most of the attacks, though, had happened at night. At least, that’s all anyone could work out from the dregs of information that the police had actually released to the public. All they’d done - middle aged men in smart uniforms, looking like they hadn’t slept in weeks as they addressed large crowds, broadcast across so many news stations - was to warn people not to stay out late on the streets, and to travel in groups.
These days Jeongguk figured he could look after himself pretty well, so he hadn’t paid the advice much due. But, maybe - Maybe he could be the one to look after others, too.
“Do you think it’s possible for a bear to hide in a city?” he asked Jimin over lunch.
They were camped out in Jimin’s car for now, the weather far too cold to be sitting outside for long. Jimin was still wearing his hat, grumbling about his numbing toes under his breath. He sent Jeongguk a withering look before mumbling, “Anything’s possible, I suppose. Why?”
“Some of the others at work think that all these attacks are because of some escaped animal.”
“An animal?” Jimin echoed. “Huh.” He pulled an odd expression, like he was caught between amusement and … panic?
“You okay?” Jeongguk pried when Jimin failed to add anything further.
Jimin forced out a strained chuckle, miles from his usual musical laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, just, one of my friends is working on the investigation. Sort of. It’s stressing him out. That stresses me out.” He shrugged one shoulder, then grimaced.
“Oh.” The cardboard cup of fries was seeping grease onto Jeongguk’s fingers where he held it tightly. Just because you have some kind of morbid fascination with people being mutilated and killed doesn’t mean other people want to discuss it over food, you idiot Jeongguk. “Sorry. I won’t mention it.”
“No! No, that’s not it,” Jimin rushed. He sounded so earnest that Jeongguk looked up from his soggy fries with wide eyes. “I - Nevermind.”
“No, go on,” Jeongguk urged. “You can tell me.” Please tell me, he thought, desperately.
To his surprise, Jimin grinned. “I know,” he said. “We tell each other things now, right?”
Was Jimin mocking him? No, the hopeful look on the other man’s face convinced him otherwise. “That’s right,” Jeongguk replied, slowly.
But Jimin shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, honestly. Just be careful, alright? I’m serious ,” he added, shoving at Jeongguk’s shoulder when he just huffed. “You’re not invincible, Jeongguk. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid and brave.”
That brought Jeongguk up short, for it had been almost exactly what he’d been thinking. Not stupid, but, maybe a little brave. He shifted in his seat, eyes following a pair of teenage boys cycling over to the railings. “Someone needs to do something, though,” he said.
Next to him, Jimin hummed. “Perhaps. It sure as anything doesn’t have to be you, though.”
He didn’t reply, but Jimin seemed happy enough to take his silence as agreement, as he let out a long sigh. “Better head back. Boss wants me on for the senior classes.” He wrinkled his nose and jutted out his bottom lip. Jeongguk snorted.
Half way through his afternoon stint on the front desk, bored out of his mind and in the midst of constructing an elaborate backstory for the old couple in the corner who were giggling away as they struggled to tie their laces, he was interrupted by a quiet cough.
“Excuse me, Mister,” came a small voice.
“Hello?” Jeongguk pushed himself up to lean over the countertop, bringing a young boy into view. He couldn’t have been more than five or six, his light up trainers flashing like a parade against the sticky floor. “Oh, hi,” Jeongguk said. “Are you okay?”
The small boy looked down, shaking his head. Jeongguk bit his lip.
“That’s alright. Have you lost your mom?”
A tearful nod.
Jeongguk lifted the counter and knelt down in front of the boy. “We can sort that out, don’t worry,” he said. “I’m Jeongguk. What’s your name?”
The boy blinked up at him. “Lee Sungmae,” he warbled.
“Okay, Sungmae, how about, while we wait for your mom, you and I see see what we can do about this music?”
Ten minutes later, with a delighted child behind the desk and several dozen confused skaters on the rink, George Michael blasted through the speakers, singing about the jitterbug for the third time in a row.
“Sorry, hi, I heard the announcement, my son -” A harassed looking woman came hurrying towards the desk, eyes wide and chest heaving.
“Yes,” Jeongguk started immediately. “He’s here, don’t worry.”
She seemed to shrink several inches in relief. “Oh, thank God,” she gasped, just as Sungmae spotted her.
“Mommy!”
It was a nice scene, Jeongguk thought, as the woman lifted the little boy into her arms. “Thank you so much,” she said.
“It’s no problem,” he replied, smiling at her and waving at the grinning boy.
But she carried on, “No, really. I was out of my mind before I heard the announcement. I kept thinking he’d been taken by that man attacking everyone. Stupid, I know, but - Thank you. We need more people like you in this town, we really do.”
If only his manager agreed, Jeongguk thought later, as he was held up yet again by Baek moaning about something or other. At this rate, he’d be late to Youngho’s. She’d been so sensitive about being stood up by Jeongguk since the great halloween party incident of 1977 that, if he wasn’t there soon, he was going to get the cold shoulder for the best part of the week.
With that in mind he didn’t hang around for Jimin, instead heading straight down the back alley behind the rink. He’d be fine anyway. Jimin was worried over nothing.
~
This was a terrible mistake. The night was far too miserable to be outside walking. The cold numbed the tips of his fingers and he dreamed longingly of the interior of his car or, hell, Jimin’s car. The other man was probably home by now. Did Jimin cook? Or Yoongi? Yes, maybe the somewhat frosty man had a warm centre, and greeted Jimin with a nice, hot meal when he arrived home. That would be nice, Jeongguk thought, his breath rising in the air in front of him; to have someone waiting for you when you got in from work. What would it be like? He tried to imagine somebody, anybody, in his bedsit, a cup of coffee waiting in hand as he walked through the door. It didn’t quite fit.
Just as his thoughts wondered to who exactly he could call upon, even in his fantasies, the honking of a car horn sent him whirling out of his daydreams.
He grumbled and hopped back onto the icy sidewalk, having stuck to the road in an attempt to keep himself upright. It truly was a bleak winter’s night, with the street lights barely even threatening to break through the darkness. The houses he passed were all lit up, some still covered in their Christmas decorations, though Jeongguk spotted a few pine tree branches sticking out of the curbside trash cans.
Actually, the lights were kind of nice in the fog, twinkling away as if through a distorted lens. Jeongguk hadn’t been able to decorate his own place that year, the bulk of his November paycheque going towards his car, for all the good it did. Still, he’d had a nice enough time at his parents’ for the day. He was overdue a call to his mom, actually. If he didn’t get back too late from Youngho’s, he’d speak to her tonight.
The sidewalk glittered with settling frost and Jeongguk spotted a second set of footsteps in the faint dusting against the ground. Ahead of him a young woman was walking on her own. She was looking over her shoulder, startling when Jeongguk caught her eye.
Jeongguk winced. Slowing his pace, he hoped to put some distance between them. It was horrendously cold, but he wouldn’t die from lingering outside just a little while longer.
Trying to distract himself, he attempted to recall what game they were supposed to be playing at the meet up this week. With a faint twinge he realised it was Dungeons and Dragons. He was terrible at Dungeons and Dragons, never making the right choice, never having luck on his side. Perhaps he could drop out early, make some kind of excuse.
The woman in front of him didn’t seem to be getting any further away, the glances behind her getting more and more frequent. Maybe Jeongguk would be better speeding up instead and overtaking her? Just as he made to increase his stride the girl turned off, down a side-street. When he passed the same street he spared a glance her way, only to see that the path was painted pitch black, all the lights extinguished. In the distance a few houses shone, like lighthouses at sea, calling ships home. Still, Jeongguk couldn’t believe that the woman could see more than a few feet in front of her. If he followed her now, even just to make sure she was okay, he would surely only frighten her.
So he carried on along the main road, sticking his hands further into his pockets and gnawing on his lip. Sending one last look over his shoulder, he stumbled to a halt. Three men were heading towards that same side-street. None of them appeared to notice him, all focused on the path ahead.
Shit.
Either they were all extremely well wrapped up, or each one of them was stupidly large.
Maybe - Maybe they were just walking home, or to a friend’s, just like Jeongguk was. The twisted smirk that tugged at one of the men’s faces as they passed under the last streetlight, however, had Jeongguk’s stomach clenching.
He really didn’t think they were going to a friend’s house.
For a second, Jeongguk simply stood on the sidewalk, staring at where the men had now vanished into the darkness. Around him the road was deserted. Could he get help at one of the houses? What if nobody answered? No, this was happening now. He’d waited too long already. He had to do something. Now.
Isn’t this what he’d been thinking about all day? That he could help? What if it had been these guys attacking everyone? Even if it wasn’t, he had a chance to be a real hero, to actually do something good. Something great, even.
Ignoring the memory of Jimin’s words echoing in the recesses of his mind, he pressed forward. The sidewalk slipped beneath his feet and he was running, the cold air stinging his cheeks and numbing his lips.
When he was plunged into the sea of darkness he slowed down, trying to listen for where he should go. Almost immediately he heard several low, growling responses. His heart dropped. They were still too far away for Jeongguk to make out the words, but as he edged further forward he realised they must have abandoned the road. The noise was coming from the right, from the small patch of woodland at the side of the path.
Jeongguk grimaced. There went any chance he had of sneaking up on them, then. He dumped his rucksack and crept to the edge of the sidewalk, cocking his head to try to catch any more words.
“Come on, sweetie,” one of the men was saying, words slurred. Maybe they were drunk, Jeongguk thought, hopefully.
“Get away,” the woman replied. Her voice was loud and strong, but husky, like she was breathing heavily.
“It’s alright. Just let us,” another man said, or, was it the same one? “You’ll be better afterwards.”
“We need good recruits. Strong recruits. Like you.” A third voice joined the mix, deep and booming, “And it will only hurt for just a little.”
Jeongguk had heard enough. Without any further thought he launched himself into the overgrowth, yelling at the top of his lungs. “Hey! Get away from her!” he shouted.
As he swung his arms forward, getting hit by branches and scratched by thorns indiscriminately, the woman yelled out and someone cursed.
“Christ,” the slurrer said. “I’ve lost her.”
Slowly, Jeongguk’s eyes were adjusting to the diminess and he spotted movement to his left. The woman’s face filled his vision, terror painting every feature, her eyes wide and dilated.
“That way,” he hissed, already shoving her in the direction of the sidewalk. “Quickly.”
“But, what about -”
“I’ll distract them, go!”
She nodded, scrambling to her feet. All the while the raging shouts of the men grew closer and closer.
“I’ll get help,” she breathed before hurrying away.
With the men approaching him from all sides, Jeongguk sincerely hoped she did, and soon.
“Well, well, well,” the deep voiced man said. “When one door closes, a window opens.” The three men towered over Jeongguk even as he pushed himself up to his full height. The man who’d spoken was the largest. Jeongguk noted with trepidation that it was definitely muscle that made them all look so large, not winter coats as he’d hoped. In fact, none of them seemed to feel the cold at all, wearing only shirts. The man to his left had a black leather jacket on, but that was it. Maybe they were in some kind of club, he thought.
Not that any of this helped Jeongguk at all. They were eyeing him up like a piece of meat, and he certainly wasn’t enjoying it.
“Alright - Alright, fellas,” he said, dismayed when his voice cracked around the words. Had the woman got away? He spun around, trying to squint through the trees to the road beyond.
“Don’t worry about her,” the large man said. They’d all edged closer still. Jeongguk could make out the gauntness in their cheeks, and the ragged state of their clothes. The man grinned. “If we still wanted her, she’d be ours by now.”
Well, that definitely didn’t sound good. The other two men laughed, not like any laugh Jeongguk had heard before. It went straight through him, into his bones.
Shit. He was really going to have to fight his way out of this. Oh, God. Jimin was going to skin him alive, if he even managed to get away. What the hell did they even want?
“I’m sure we can work something out,” he started, before darting forward, aiming for the gap between the big guy and leather jacket guy.
For a split second, Jeongguk thought it had worked. The icy wind flew passed his face, the brambles clawed at his legs and he was moving, he was going to make it, and -
Whack.
His breath caught in his chest and he tried curling into himself. What the hell? We couldn’t move. He was being held in place, shoved back against a tree by one strong arm. Holy shit, this guy was so strong, Jeongguk couldn’t even shift an inch.
Fear shot down his spine like an icy bath. What if - What if he really didn’t get away? He struggled against the man’s hold, still, though the towering figure barely seemed to notice. Instead, he laughed, that same horrid laugh, and lifted Jeongguk higher off the ground.
Jeongguk gasped, his hands scrambling at where the man was now grabbing his throat. His feet hung in the air, desperately searching for purchase on the trunk of the tree. He couldn’t touch the floor, he couldn’t breath, he couldn’t move. He was going to die here, in the cold, with nobody to help him. Panic gripped him like it had never done before, anguished thoughts surging through his mind. He hadn’t spoken to his mom in a whole week, she’d never know what had really happened to him. How long until they’d find his body? Youngho was probably cursing his name right now. How would she feel, when she found out why he never arrived? He’d just crossed a bridge with Jimin, it wasn’t fair. And, pathetically, what would happen to Tteokbokki?
“You’ll thank us eventually,” the large man said, smirking as he leant closer. The cold air had made his skin icy to the touch. “So much power, right at your fingertips.”
‘Go to hell,’ is what Jeongguk wanted to say, but it got stuck in his throat, stars dancing in his eyes, the edge of his vision fading black.
No. Not like this. Please.
In one last ditch attempt to break free he dropped his hand from the man’s forearm, instead clawing at his face. Jeongguk grimaced, vision blotchy, as he felt around for it - Ah, there! Digging his thumbs into the man’s eyes, he shoved them deeper as he heard a howl.
With a painful thud he fell to the ground.
“Ah, Goddamnit,” the man cursed, but Jeongguk was already off. He didn’t look behind him, he just ran. The man was snapping at the other two, already his voice muffled by the woodland between them. Jeongguk prayed. Please, please, please let him leave.
The solid tarmac beneath his shoes had never felt so good. Sweat dripped down his face and he was burning up in the winter air. The street lights were just there, he could see them, the houses so close. He could get help.
“You certainly are a lively one. The mistress will be pleased.”
A sob tore at Jeongguk’s throat. Behind him the other two grabbed his arms and shoulders, kicking his knees until he was forced to kneel on the ground.
“Now, don’t move, little one,” the big man cooed, as if Jeongguk even could. His eyes were bloodshot as he sneered, “It will only hurt you more.”
It was all Jeongguk could do to watch in horror as the man’s face morphed. Red bled into his eyes, eyebrows drawing together unnaturally, lips pulled back in an animalistic growl. Worst, though, were his teeth. Jeongguk’s gaze was drawn to them and, at that moment, he knew he was worse than dead. Pointed fangs extended past the man’s lower lip, glinting like knives in the moonlight.
There was nothing for it, he knew that now, but still he struggled, still he fought, even as the creature closed in on him.
The sharp piercing of fangs was the last thing Jeongguk remembered before he fell into the night.
~
Dying, it turned out, wasn’t quite so bad. At least he was lying on something soft. There was a faint bubbling coming from somewhere, like running water. Maybe it was a waterfall. There would be waterfalls in heaven, for sure. Maybe he had made it there.
But, then, he could smell something. Something like, cooked meat? Oh, God, was he at home? Was that Mrs. Whu? If he’d dreamed the whole thing he was either going to be pissed, or so relieved he could cry, or somewhere between the two.
No, not cooked meat. Soup. Like his mom made when he was ill. A nice warm soup.
Oh, he was cold, though. Was he cold? Well, that settled it. He was definitely dead. He wasn’t cold, he was numb. All over. Like there was a strange tingling dancing across every inch of his skin. But, he could still feel ; the tickle of the hair on his neck, the roughness of his uniform top, the soft fabric beneath his cheek. Huh. That was weird. Probably not heaven then, he thought, as he registered his aching muscles and the dull thudding behind his eyes.
When Jeongguk tried to move it mutated into a prominent pounding. Ah, shit. Stillness. A much better idea. Should he open his eyes? He wasn’t sure where he was, but it felt safe. If he opened his eyes and saw one of those horrid red-eyed men standing over him, well, he’d rather remain ignorant a while longer.
A door creaked open to his left and Jeongguk listened, body stiff, as footsteps approached. Whoever it was must have been right by him as, when they let out a heavy sigh, Jeongguk could feel the breath against his face.
Please don’t be the big man, Jeongguk pleaded silently. He was fairly sure, though, that the big man wouldn’t have such a gentle tred. But, then, he really didn’t know much about -
The footsteps retreated once more.
Alright. You can do this, Jeongguk. Just open your eyes and deal with whatever this is.
He grimaced and began to blink, slivers of the room around him coming into focus. A paper lampshade, ink artwork, a fish tank. Wait a minute -
“Oh, you’re awake.”
Jeongguk startled and then winced, the sudden movement reverberating around his skull. The man who’d spoken was balanced on the arm of the couch at Jeongguk’s feet. It wasn’t Jimin or Yoongi or Taehyung, but Yoongi did say there were more of them. How the hell had Jeongguk wound up here of all places?
“How are you feeling? Awful, I’d imagine,” the new guy carried on. As he spoke Jeongguk shifted himself further upright.
“Pretty awful, yeah,” he agreed in a croak.
Finally fixing a less blurry gaze on him, Jeongguk decided that this other guy didn’t look much better. His skin was the palest that Jeongguk had ever seen, the intricately patterned dressing gown wrapped around his tall frame was just as white as him. He must have some kind of illness, Jeongguke thought; something that kept him away from the sun. Perhaps he was on bedrest. That or he was just some kind of hermit. Maybe that’s what Jimin did in his spare time; collect sick and injured people.
“I’ll summon the others,” the man said.
“Oh, hey, no,” Jeongguk started, but the man was gone. He pouted. He didn’t even see him leave. God, he was out of it.
By the time the herd of footsteps stampeded through the corridor, Jeongguk was almost relieved. All he could think about in the silence, all he could see when he shut his eyes, was that gleaming red stare, dripping fangs, and that sharp, shooting pain in his neck.
His fingertips were tracing gently over the bite marks when they came in, two tiny raised incisions right above the vein. He dropped his hand quickly, his legs tangling in the blanket when he tried to stand.
“Woah, hey there,” one of the strangers said, darting forward to press Jeongguk back into the couch cushions. “Jimin said you were a stubborn one, but you really do need to rest.” He smiled gently, “You’ve been through a lot.”
It was early still, if the sinking moon shining pale light through the windows was anything to go by, but the six men gathered in front of him looked like they’d had a collective of twenty minutes sleep between them. Near the back, Jimin waved at him, eyes wet and red as if he’d been crying. Next to him, Yoongi had his jaw set and his arms folded. Taehyung had dropped down onto the other end of the couch and was watching him with wide eyes. He possibly looked the worst of all of them and Jeongguk tried not to squirm under the scrutiny.
Kneeling in front of him the man with the gentle smile remained quiet, apparently waiting for Jeongguk to take it all in. He wore glasses and a button up shirt with an extravagantly patterned cardigan on top. All of a sudden, Jeongguk was reminded of his grandpa, and some of the tension drained from his body.
On the other side of the room the pale man stood a little away from the sixth and final stranger. This guy was thin, like Yoongi, but leaner. Even through the long t-shirt he was wearing, Jeongguk could tell. He was staring as well, his sharp gaze focused solely on Jeongguk.
Well, at least he knew now how animals at the zoo felt like.
He really should say something, shouldn’t he?
“Um, thank you,” he settled on. “I - I really thought I was a goner last night.” He tried hard to smile, though abandoned the idea when it pulled on his neck. “How did you find me?”
“It was me,” Taehyung piped up, his voice much rougher than it had been the day before. “I was coming home from work and you were - You - In the middle of the road, just lying there.”
So, they’d left him to die, then, those men. How nice.
“Tae brought you straight here. We tried to fix you up as best as we could,” the guy with the glasses said. “Sorry if it’s a bit rough. And - God,” he dragged a hand across his face. “What are we doing? I’m sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon, I'm the head of the coven. This is -”
“Coven?” Jeongguk blurted out.
Namjoon nodded a smile. He had a nice smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll explain everything. You know Jimin. That’s Yoongi and, well Taehyung you’ll have figured out.” Taehyung waved at him from a foot away. “And these two in the corner are Kim Seokjin,” the pale man winked at him, “and Jung Hoseok,” the staring man waved, suddenly looking a lot less intimidating. “And you’re Jeon Jeongguk,” Namjoon finished with a breath.
Jeongguk cocked his head. “That’s me.”
Apparently, though, Jimin had reached his tolerance for civilities. “What the hell, Jeongguk?” he yelled, bursting forward and almost hitting his knee on the coffee table. “I told you not to do anything stupid. I specifically said!”
“In my defence,” Jeongguk retorted, raising his palms. “I was helping someone else. These guys who attacked me were going after this other woman. I saw it all, I couldn’t just not do anything.”
“You could've called the police. It was a residential area, Tae said so.”
“There wasn’t time. Besides, you didn’t see those guys, they were huge. I’m not sure the police could’ve helped.
Jimin snorted, “Oh, but you could’ve.”
Namjoon - still crouched on the floor - hummed. “We know the men you’re talking about. They don’t mess around. I’m surprised you have any neck left.”
Neck. Right. The big guy had bitten him. Those long teeth …
“Yeah,” Jeongguk drew out the word. “About that. What - I mean, if you fixed me up, what did they do? I think I’m remembering it a bit wonky.”
“That’ll be the venom,” Seokjin (or was it Hoseok?) spoke up.
Jeongguk balked. “Venom?”
Waving his head, Namjoon grimaced a little at the other man. “Give him a second, please. Look, don’t worry. You’re not in any immediate danger. The men that attacked you, they were vampires. They were after your blood, it sustains them. They drained you dry.”
The room was quiet for a moment, the fish tank bubbling away, and Jeongguk could feel six pairs of eyes on him. He snorted. “Vampires?” he repeated. This Namjoon guy was kidding. How stupid did he think Jeongguk was?
None of the faces around him cracked, though. His chest tightened. Those teeth sinking into his neck …
“It’s true, Jeongguk,” Jimin said, voice soft, as if he was talking Jeongguk down from the edge. “He’s serious.”
Jeongguk’s hand came up to grasp at his neck again and he dug his fingernail into the bite marks. Not teeth. Fangs. He’d had fangs. And then there was the ridiculous strength, the speed, the cold .
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. He pushed the blanket away from his legs and everybody in the room seemed to brace themselves. “What?” He’d survived a vampire attack, for God’s sake. Vampires were real. He didn’t have the patience for any more messing around. “What is it? Jimin?”
The other man remained silent. Instead, Taehyung cleared his throat. “When I found you, I - Well -” His eyes flicked towards the others and back, licking his lips. “They didn’t just want your blood.”
Recruits.
The panic was starting to get very real now. Jeongguk couldn’t clear his head, couldn’t think straight and these people just wouldn’t stop looking at him.
“Just say it!” he barked. “Just tell me!”
It was Yoongi who spoke the words, his voice a rasping growl. “They turned you,” he said. “With their venom. That’s how it works, we couldn’t stop it.”
“Couldn’t stop it,” Jeongguk repeated. “So - So, I’m a vampire, is that what you’re saying? I’m like them?”
“Not like them,” Jimin rushed. “You’re nothing like them.”
Jeongguk groaned, burying his head in his hands.
“Look,” Namjoon cut in, perhaps sensing an imminent meltdown. “It’s a lot, but we can help.”
“Help?” Jeongguk almost laughed. “How on earth can you help me?” Oh, God, what was he going to tell his parents? ‘I’m sorry, I’m a blood-sucking monster now, I’ll try very hard not to kill you if I get the chance.’ He curled his fingers into his scalp, digging into the skin before he realised someone else was speaking.
Hoseok was nodding as he said, “... we’ve all had different experiences. You can stay here for the time being, until you decide what you want to do. You won’t be alone.”
Jeongguk scoffed at that. Right, experiences. Had they all been turned into vampires, too? How the hell would they know what it was like? Was Jimin just going to crack open a vein for him? Did they have a stack of coffins ready and waiting in the basement? God, he needed to get out of there, he needed to think.
When he stood up a wave of nausea washed through him that he fought to ignore. “Alright, okay, so thanks for,” he waved his arm faintly at Taehyung, hoping that it properly conveyed the ‘thanks for saving me, or maybe I’d rather have died, I’m not sure yet,’ consuming his mind. “I’m going to get going, though, I think.”
“What?” Jimin said, as Jeongguk began to scan the room for his shoes. God, he felt like he was going to throw up.
“I’ve got to get home,” he insisted.
“And then what?” Jimin countered. “You can’t just soldier on through this, Jeongguk. You need people with you, people who know what they’re doing.”
“And that’s you, is it?” he snapped. “No, you’ve no - I just want to be on my own. This is all - It’s all - I need to make sure my cat’s okay. Thank you for your help, but I think you’ve done all you can.”
Still sitting on the couch Taehyung let out a harsh breath. For the first time Jeongguk noticed that he was wearing gloves, dark silk things that made his fingers look thin and long. Jeongguk watched as he ran the gloved hand through his hair. “I knew it,” Taehyung said. “You weren't listening to Hobi, were you? You can’t see.”
Jeongguk stood in the middle of the room, throat dry, head pounding, body aching. He shook his head. What was this guy talking about? Eloquently, he let out a faint, “What the fuck?”
Taehyung smiled. “Let me show you.”
Without any further comment Taehyung jumped up, like he was intending to crouch on the couch cushions, except, he didn’t. Jeongguk watched, gobsmacked, as Taehyung transformed in mid-air.
His limbs shortened and slimmed, his face narrowed, nose extending outward.The chestnut hair that fell across his eyes spread all over him, turning a rich ginger shade.
In less than a second, a majestic fox dropped gracefully onto the couch. Its big eyes looked directly at Jeongguk, the tilt of its head alarmingly recognisable.
“What the fuck?” Jeongguk repeated, barely a whisper.
Like a damn had been broken, the room around him morphed, mask melting away before his very eyes.
Yoongi, his arms still folded at his chest, rose to the ceiling, supported by long muscular tendrils that burst forth from between his shoulder blades.
Hoseok stepped forward into a weak beam of moonlight, his body decomposing in an instant. His skin hung from him in ribbons, splintered bones and tender flesh visible beneath his ripped clothes. Dark eyes blinked at Jeongguk from sunken sockets.
Next to him Seokjin was no longer simply pale, but translucent. He hovered several feet above the ground. It was obvious now that it wasn’t a robe he was wearing, but a hanbok, the long sleeves dangling below his feet.
Jeongguk - Well, he bolted.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he huffed, moving as fast as he could without being sick. The corridor went on forever, each door he opened leading to somewhere unrecognisable. Jeongguk was going to be stuck in this freak house for the rest of his life, holy shit. If he didn’t know better, he would have said the house didn’t want him to leave, until, finally , the front door came into view. He hauled it open, relishing in the icy breezy of the dawn.
Ignoring his lack of shoes or jacket, he launched himself down the steps. Jimin’s voice followed him, calling for him to stay. But he wasn’t stopping at that place for a second longer.
The house vanished from sight when he turned the corner. Jeongguk prayed that it would stay that way.