Work Text:
The bass thrums through Jake’s veins, and Jongseong’s piercings reflect light beside him, and Jake feels like he’s on another planet, the way the walls glow and the blood-filled bodies dance past in a daze–he had always enjoyed their parties before he turned, but there was something special about this one, it was for him–it made his insides sing with want and his eyes flash with desire.
Forever.
“Should we, like, dance?” Jongseong inquires, hands gesturing around, tone joking enough for both of them to laugh it off, say no, and continue on their way–and he’d be a little embarrassed any other night to say yes, to just let Jongseong’s energy take him over. But at this point in the night, everyone is too-gone to pay attention to either of them.
And that feels odd, in a way. To be the main event of this party, and yet no one is looking towards him.
So they dance, smoke making the house feel more otherworldly, songs floating in one ear and out the other, Yeonjun and Beomgyu join them, holding hands and whispering in each other's ears like they're the only people in the world. And maybe they are, to be alone yet not lonesome, before they drift off again to do whatever Yeonjun and Beomgyus do–which is get handsy against the wall, fingers gliding over exposed skin, almost harshly, and teeth getting familiar with throats–and Jake laughs, and Jongseong laughs along with him, and he feels delirious with alive-ness, as Jongseong leans in close, not quite YeonjunAndBeomgyu close, but enough where heats flares up his spine in almost-possession.
Which is a bit funny, in and out of itself, to feel alive. All things considered, now; how death and rebirth can rewire someone’s brain.
Jake isn't sure how long passes before Sunoo joins them, holding the cake up to him, and the other boys follow suit–all crowding around him and his not-beating heart–and it's cheesy, the cake. The suggestion of blood dripping off the edges, the candle in the shape of a sparkly supermarket number one, the Happy 1st Bloody Birthday written in red frosting. And he’s not as nervous as he thought he’d be tonight. Jongseong grabs his hand as Heeseung’s arm wraps around him as he blows out the candles and he feels stars explode overhead, phantom warmth overtaking him.
Jungwon cheers and the moment snaps back to reality, and Jake chances a look at Heeseung’s face–his pretty soft hair and his pretty soft smile, something much sharper lurking underneath–and the prospect and whole idea of tonight starts to set in. All the people under this roof are here for Jake.
To feed.
And that's how he fell face first into all of this, going to one of these parties and also running face first into Heeseung–who he was fascinated with, going to all his fencing matches like a good patriotic student–and truth be told he is still fascinated with Heeseung now, even as he gets dragged off to the quieter part of the house. There is a sick sort of fascination now, that he supposes they both share with each other. The need that Jake feels is carnal, like want is the only thing in his veins.
Watching Heeseung feed is terrifying and gorgeous all at once, to watch him slink up to someone and charm them to death–no pun intended–with his boyish giggles is to be seated in front at the world's most well-rehearsed play, and one that Jake knows he is lucky to attend.
He put the pieces together on his own, the fencing club must equal the not-so-secret vampire coven, right?
And he was right, despite the fact that he felt a little like Bella Swan. But who is he to deny vampires?
“What about her?”
Jake looks where Heeseung is pointing, and she’s pretty in the way that girls are, effortless in the way her short dyed hair curls around her ears, her smile gleams under the bruise-purple lighting.
“She’s no you,” Jake answers for their little game of back and forth before dashing back down the bannister knowing Heeseung will follow.
That's how they are, these days, push and pull in a way Jake has never been with anyone. He feels suffocated under the lights and the press of bodies. But more free, when he’s by Heeseung’s side, a sense of almost-belonging.
Jake stands motionless in the crowd of people while Heeseung convinces the girl in a clumsy boyish way to follow them back up the stairs. And she does.
Simple.
It should bother him, that he’s not the only one to follow Heeseung into hell but it pleases Jake, almost.
His jaw aches with the need to break through her pretty flesh, the way it's dotted with freckles and mottled with little bumps–so very human in a superficial way– it makes him feel like he’s starving.
He holds his breath as Heeseung drags his nose across her delicate wrist and watches as his fangs threaten to push through the skin of her arm. Not yet biting.
And he’s teasing Jake, in the slowness at which he plays with his food.
Jake isn't sure if the girl knows what's about to happen or not, but she's watching Heeseung with rapt attention, just in the way Jake is. His heart stutters and his mouth feels like cotton.
They’re on the edge.
To be honest, Jake expects a scream from her, or some sort of noise of pain, but she just watches silently as Heeseung drains warm blood from her wrist. Jake stops biting his finger when Heeseung looks at him with half-lidded eyes.
He pulls his pretty mouth away from her pretty wrist before pulling Jake closer and leaning to his ear.
Warm breath fans over his jaw, “like this,” Heeseung utters before going back to his meal and poking his tongue out to lick the blood seeping from her puncture wounds and lifting Jake’s hand to grab the girl's bloody one.
Her skin is warm, Jake notes, the difference between her warm skin and Heeseung’s cool skin is going to live in his brain for a very, very long time.
“Open.”
And that simple phrase makes his body almost-seize with the need to obey, and maybe it’s just his new biology, or maybe it's just Heeseung, he hasn't figured that out yet.
Heeseung has already dropped the girl's hand, leaving Jake to be the only one holding her. And she’s standing in a daze as Heeseung reaches up to tilt Jake’s head back, to cradle his jaw, to put his fingers in Jake’s mouth, thumbing fresh blood across his teeth to coax his fangs out–the sensation is strange still, to be wearing a pair of plastic halloween fangs, but like, forever–the metallic tang of blood and the salty taste of Heeseung’s thumbs drives him mad, over and over.
Jake tries to smile. And fails, fangs getting in the way.
Heeseung lets go completely, and brings the girl's wrist back up to Jake’s face, and he wants nothing more than to put his fangs in Heeseung's previous puncture wounds like a hole-in-one in a game of mini-golf. And that is a very normal thing to want. And he’s gonna be good at it.
This time she doesn't even gasp, just stares at them both as blood floods Jake’s senses, it feels like not drinking water all day. The metallic taste at full force makes his eyes burn and his legs turn to jelly.
Jake can hear the praises Heeseung is giving him, and during all this Jongseong has snaked back to his side before circling behind Heeseung to drink from the girl's other wrist.
Her knees buckle and her flesh tears from their fangs on her quickly closing wounds as she falls–vampire healing spit or whatever does not get to those brand new wounds. Oops.
Jongseong turns to Jake to look into his eyes as Heeseung puts the girl on some sofa.
“What,” Jake starts as Jongseong locks pinkies with him like grade schoolers, “what color are they?”
Jongseong grins, “bright red, like a blood moon.”
And that pleases Jake.
"Are you still hungry?"
And Jake falters–Heeseung sneaks back up to them–and he tries to come up with a polite way to tell Heeseung the girl they just drained of blood was like the bread they serve you when you sit at a fancy restaurant. Her blood made Jake more excited for the rest of the night to follow as they have a whole party to devour, in the nicest way possible. They still go to school here, after all. But truthfully, the coven has resided here for centuries that a few missing students wouldn't cause any eyes to be batted. No vampire bat pun intended.
The three of them descend the stairs again to be thrown in the middle of the party, pretty girls and pretty boys too drunk or cross-faded to care that they won't remember a bit of this come the morning.
But Jake will.
He used to be one of the people that wouldn't remember a thing, but now he's in the middle orchestrating the whole grand un-remembrance–kinda, almost, he was allowed to pick the music while the other boys fawned over him and his first feast. They all excitedly picked the lights, the streamers, the bodies to eat–all for Jake to experience what it's like to hunt in the modern world of devils and ghouls.
The dance floor turns to a blur as they feed and dance and almost-kiss in the swirling thick feeling of lust blanketing the entire old, creaky mansion.
And the thick clouds from the smoke machine that Jongseong picked out, of course.
Stars dance in his eyes as Jake feels blood leaks in a strange congealed way and makes its slow slide down his neck to stain the collar of his button-down. And maybe Heeseung corners him to lick up the excess blood from his fingers. To lick between the digits while looking down at Jake with blood-red eyes, Heeseung’s sharp fangs almost tearing the delicate skin of his pretty small mouth. Heeseung continues his journey of licking Jake’s forearm, mouthing up the polyester of his shirt until it's a bit wet, like Heeseung is a too-excited dog. Til he reaches Jake's blood-stained collar, and all Jake can manage is a breathy laugh that may end up in an almost moan, a desperate wanting sound as Heeseung’s fangs graze his neck.
Time slows down as Heeseung noses up the line of Jake's throat, licking and nipping at his jaw, the push of fangs against his skin has his knees buckling before Heeseung settles on his mouth to start his kitten licks all over again, it would be awkward, to kiss with fangs, Jake thinks, so he makes a conscious effort to retract them which grants him the pleasure of listening to a boy giggle–possibly the sweetest thing on earth, if he had to choose–before they're kissing again and Heeseung's knee finds its way between Jake's thighs, and Jake is only a man so what is he to do besides rut against the slender leg in question.
"You look so pretty like this," Heeseung says, breathless, "all covered in blood."
Jake doesn't answer, he just buries his head in Heeseung's throat.
Heeseung squeezes his waist as he dives in for more kisses that drive Jake up the wall. His body feels like lead at the same time it feels like feathers, and having Heeseung's mouth on his feels like heaven in hiding.
And he's not sure how this thing between them is supposed to go, but kissing Heeseung feels like something he was born to learn.
Heeseung kisses like a man starving, even if they've been doing nothing but eating the entire school population. He kisses with his whole body and Jake wants nothing more but to climb inside of him and make a home.
Waking up after his death to see Heeseung and the other boys standing over his grave, still raises goosebumps on his arms, the slow coming back and the all crushing feelings of wanting to follow Heeseung into hell is not something he's gotten used to just yet, and he doesn't think he ever will at the rate Heeseung's tongue is down his throat.
It feels like they stay frozen in time for hours, kissing and panting and coming undone in their corner, blood and saliva mixing together and oh, this is why Beomgyu and Yeonjun act as they do, now that Jake has it he doesn't want to let it go.
Jake doesn't want to let Heeseung go, they have the possibility of forever at their fingertips.
Heeseung’s soft skin and the illusion of his soft, dead-from-bleaching hair. His legs and arms, covered in freckles and bumps and scars. His non-beating heart and his kidneys. His rib bones and shoulder blades, all Jake's to explore.
And it feels exhilarating, that Heeseung wants him the way he wants Heeseung.
“When will it be my turn?”
Sunghoon leans against a green velvet sofa behind Heeseung, hair ruffled and skin glistening where he is usually composed and beautiful. He looks debauched in a way that Jake has learned is from feeding.
Jake grins into Heeseung’s neck, again.
Heeseung takes that as his cue, and they unfurl from each other like blooming cacti flowers.
“Now,” Jake says in response, hand-in-hand with Heeseung as he takes Sunghoon’s delicate wrist, kissing the visible moles that look like bite marks that lie against Sunghoon’s skin like stars.
So they dance, and they feast, and they kiss.
Playing the game over and over and over again.
The music mixes with the sticky feelings in Jake’s chest. and the sticky feelings of the couch he’s hanging off of. The other boys are eating around the room, the lights still blinding and the heavy haze of want hangs around them as Sunghoon drapes his arm over Jake's sternum and Heeseung does a funny little pose on the couch to hold Jake’s ankle.
Their entanglement is a strange one, but it makes Jake feel like he belongs.