Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Mingyu wakes up the world is terrifyingly bright. He feels hazy, lightheaded, like he’s not awake at all but simply dreaming– last night was all a dream, too. Except it wasn’t. He reaches a hand up and touches his neck, feels the dried blood caked up on his skin. He lets out a hoarse whimper, rolling over on the couch and curling in on himself. He’s alive. Why is he still alive? He should be dead. He should be dead. Oh, he’s fucked. He’s so fucked. He reaches out and picks up his phone, and calls the only person he knows that might know what to do.

He’s there 30 minutes later. He bangs on the door, and the noise is so loud it makes Mingyu flinch. He rolls off the couch, dodging sun rays as he makes his way to the front door. He opens it and Minghao comes in, his mouth falling open when his eyes land on Mingyu.

“Christ, Mingyu, you’re–”

“What? Hideous? Terrifying?”

“No,” Minghao says. “No, you’re covered in blood.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, dumbly. He sits down on the couch and pulls his knees up to his chest, while he watches Minghao close all the blinds. “I haven’t showered yet,” he says. “I called you as soon as I woke up.”

Minghao sighs, sitting down across from him in one of his armchairs, “how do you feel?” He asks.

“I feel… raw,” Mingyu mumbles. It’s hard to describe. “Sort of thin, and worn out.”

“Probably because you haven’t fed yet.”

“Don’t,” Mingyu pleads. He’s not sure what exactly he’s pleading for, though. “Don’t, just… I’m not going to, I’ll just–”

“If you called me because you wanted my help dying, you grossly miscalculated,” Minghao says. His voice is stern, but his face is kind– his eyes warm. “I’m not going to let you die, Mingyu.”

“Can’t you do something?” Mingyu asks, his tone growing increasingly desperate. “Hao, please I– I can’t do this, I can’t be this. I can’t. I just can’t.”

“I’m sorry, Mingyu.”

“No, don’t say that.”

“I can’t do anything.”

“Fuck you, fuck– fuck…” Mingyu stops. He sits there, mouth opening and closing, but the person he wants to curse out has suddenly slipped out of his mind, like sand between his fingers. He tries to recall their name but it’s gone. “I don’t remember. Hao, I don’t– I don’t remember who killed me.”

“You’ve had a rough night,” Minghao says. “It’ll come back to you, I’m sure.”

Mingyu’s too tired to argue– instead he puts his head in his hands. “What am I gonna do, Hao? How am I gonna tell him?”

“Who? Jeonghan hyung?”

“Yes,” Mingyu whispers. His hands fall back into his lap, and they’re stained red. “Yes. How am I going to tell him? How am I supposed to–”

Mingyu is interrupted mid sentence by loud, insistent banging on his door– and then, shouting.

“Mingyu!” Someone screams, and Mingyu knows, oh he knows that voice so well. “Mingyu! You bastard, I’ve been worried sick–”

Minghao opens the door and Jeonghan nearly tumbles to the floor, having apparently been putting all his weight on the door. He quickly recovers, and he pushes past Minghao and hurries into the living room, and this part is almost unbearable– Jeonghan sees Mingyu. And he sees him see him.

“Oh, Gyu,” he murmurs, and he attempts to take Mingyu’s hands, but Mingyu scrambles away from him like a wounded animal.

“Don’t, hyung, I’m–”

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asks, and he’s insistent– he takes Mingyu’s hands again. Still not used to his new strength, Mingyu shakes the hold off easily; too easily. Jeonghan lets out a yelp of pain, and Mingyu crumbles onto the floor, scrambling still further away– “No, Gyu, come here–”

“Get away from me!” Mingyu shouts, shaking his head, pressed up against the wall. His arms are covering his face, he doesn’t want Jeonghan to see him, or his face, the blood. “Just leave! Get out! Get out!”

Two slender arms wrap around him. And Mingyu cries. He finally breaks, the sobs ripping out of him violently. He shatters into little pieces, only held together by Jeonghan’s arms– if he hadn’t been there he would’ve broken completely. Yet still, he keeps insisting in between sobs that Jeonghan leave him, but Jeonghan doesn’t even reply. He holds Mingyu tightly, arms around his shoulders, a hand on the back of his head, face burrowed in his neck. And he stays. Lets Mingyu weep into his shirt, lets him punch weakly at his stomach to try and get him off him, lets Mingyu take it all out on him until he’s got no fight left in him. He’s still crying, though. Mingyu barely registers Minghao coming in and leaving something on the table before muttering something to Jeonghan, who nods. Then, something is forced into Mingyu’s mouth– a rubbery tube.

“Drink,” Jeonghan whispers. “Drink up, Gyu. It’ll make you feel better. I promise.”

Mingyu believes him. He drinks, and as soon as the liquid hits the back of his throat he realizes how thirsty he is, and he rips the bag out of Jeonghan’s hands, squeezing out every last drop before letting it fall to the floor, panting heavily. He looks up at Jeonghan, and he almost chokes– something’s wrong with him. He can hear Jeonghan’s heartbeat like a pounding drum inside his head, thump, thump, thump. And he can smell Jeonghan, can smell the sweat on his skin and the perfume, the alcohol he drank last night when they’d gone to that damn bar. And he feels ravenous. He wants to swallow Jeonghan whole, and it terrifies him– he’s terrified, and it only hits him now that he’d just drank blood, and oh, god, oh no. Oh no.

“Hyung,” he whimpers, his voice hoarse and raw from crying. “Hyung, I’m–”

“You’re Mingyu,” Jeonghan says, and he takes Mingyu’s face in his hands with a gentleness he doesn’t deserve. “You’re my Mingyu, just like you’ve always been.”

“No, I’m–”

“Shush,” Jeonghan says. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Mingyu is still tired, weak all the way down to his bones, his body strange and foreign. So he lets Jeonghan maneuver him around, lets him pull off his clothes and throw them out, lets him draw him a bath and sit him down in it. Lets Jeonghan scrub him clean, lets him wash his hair– it’s all achingly tender, gentle in a way Mingyu can barely take without crying again. When he’s clean, Jeonghan puts him into new clothes, and he takes him to bed. Lies him down gently, his soothing voice telling him lies, ‘you’ll be alright. Everything will be fine.’

It only takes a few minutes for Mingyu to fall asleep. Jeonghan stays in the bed, lies next to him and holds onto him. Squeezes him when he squirms or whimpers, when he grimaces like he’s in pain. He brushes the hair away from his sweaty forehead and presses his lips to it. His Mingyu. Seeing him covered in blood hadn’t changed a thing, and Jeonghan is heartbroken that Mingyu thought it would– he feels heartbroken when he remembers the terrified look on Mingyu’s face, the sound of the sobs ripping out of him.

So what if he’s a vampire? He was Jeonghan’s boyfriend first. That’s what matters. Mingyu lets out another little noise, desperate, and in his sleep he tugs Jeonghan closer. He lets Mingyu envelop him. And he makes a mental note to thank Minghao later– having a witch for a friend came in handy at the strangest times. He knew his way around the supernatural, and knew several vampires, from what Jeonghan had been able to tell from their conversations. And he knows where to get blood bags, apparently. He’d left about a dozen of them in the fridge, and he’d told Jeonghan to call him if anything changed.

It was thanks to Minghao that Jeonghan was even here in the first place- he’d texted Jeonghan as soon as Mingyu had called him and told him what happened. Jeonghan had called him last night in a panic when Mingyu had disappeared from him in the bar; Minghao helped him search the surrounding area, and when the search turned up nothing, he coaxed Jeonghan into going home and gave him something to help him sleep. If he hadn’t, Jeonghan would probably have spent the whole night looking for Mingyu.

Jeonghan had put on a brave face, because if Mingyu saw any fear in him, he knew he’d misunderstand. He’d think Jeonghan was afraid of him, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. Jeonghan is scared because he doesn’t know what to do for Mingyu to make it better. He’s been presented with a problem he can’t fix, and he hates it– despises it. And he’s terrified. Terrified he won’t be able to help Mingyu. He doesn’t know the first thing about vampires, let alone what the transition into one is like. He knew vampires were out there, of course, and some were bad, and some were good, like it is with humans. He doesn’t know anything else. Jeonghan makes a mental note to ask Minghao if he can borrow some of his books on vampirism.

Mingyu doesn’t wake up for a long while. By the time he starts to stir awake, the sun has already begun to set.

“Hey,” Jeonghan says, quietly.

He’s lying halfway on top of Mingyu, one arm slung over his waist, his other extended so he can run his fingers through Mingyu’s hair. Their legs are tangled. They’re all intertwined, with no way to tell where Jeonghan stops and Mingyu begins.

“Hyung,” Mingyu says. “Why are you still here?”

“Do you have to ask?” Jeonghan says. “Because I love you.”

“Don’t–”

“Mingyu, shut up.”

Mingyu shuts up. He frowns down at him, and Jeonghan uses his thumb to smooth over the lines in his forehead, before he lets his fingers wander further down, caressing his face lovingly.

“Hyung,” Mingyu says again, after a length of silence.

“Yeah, Gyu,” Jeonghan whispers. “I’m here.”

“You shouldn’t be. You shouldn’t be, you should’ve left.”

“Maybe,” Jeonghan says. “But I didn’t want to. What I wanted to do was take care of you, and you know how hard it is to stop me from doing what I want.”

Mingyu sighs, and he gives into his touch, finally. He still seems tired beyond words, beyond his usual stubbornness. He leans into Jeonghan’s hand, eyes fluttering shut.

“Hyung,” he says. “Hyung, I’m… I’m scared.”

“I know,” Jeonghan says, barely able to keep his voice even. It’s wavering, threatening to betray the fear and the worry. He forces it back into an even calm tone– he could be scared later, when Mingyu was asleep again. “I know, Gyu. It’s alright. I’ll take care of you.”

“It’s no use,” Mingyu says. “It’s too late. I’ve already begun turning, I drank the blood.”

“I don’t care,” Jeonghan says, fingertips digging into Mingyu’s side. Anger begins to bubble up in him instead, frustration with Mingyu and his selflessness. His insistence on refusing help he clearly needs. “I don’t care if it’s useless, or too late, or if you’re human or vampire. You’re still Mingyu, my Mingyu, and I’m going to take care of you.”

“You’re so… stubborn…” Mingyu mumbles, already slipping back into sleep, his head growing heavier in Jeonghan’s hands. He lays it down gently on the pillow and starts running his fingers through Mingyu’s hair again. “I… I love you too… You know…”

Jeonghan smiles, and he leans up and kisses Mingyu’s jaw. He recognizes by the change in his breathing that Mingyu’s fallen asleep again. Carefully, he disentangles from Mingyu just enough that he can reach his phone on the bedside table. He pulls up Minghao’s contact and presses the call button.

“Hello?”

“It’s me, Jeonghan,” he says. He’s still looking at Mingyu, whose face has now twisted into a slightly mournful expression. “I’m still with Mingyu.”

“Good,” Minghao replies, and Jeonghan hears rustling in the background, as if he’s sorting through papers, or leafing through a book. “Good, he’ll need you. The transition can be rough, but if you’re there… has he fed again?”

“Not yet,” Jeonghan says, keeping his voice as quiet as he can. “He’s been sleeping, mostly. He’s sleeping right now.”

“He’ll need to feed again within the coming hours,” Minghao says. “And hyung… blood bags will only get him so far. It can maintain a fully transitioned vampire for a long time, but while he’s still changing he’ll need something more… real, so to speak. He’ll need blood straight from the source.”

“I guessed as much,” Jeonghan says steadily. “I’m ready to give it to him. I’ll do anything I can for him.”

Minghao goes quiet for some time after this. Then, “it might not be a good idea,” he says, carefully. “It might be too much for him, feeding off you. All his senses are… heightened. His emotions too. He’s experiencing everything twice as much right now.”

“I don’t… but then who?” Jeonghan murmurs, “who else is there?”

“I know how to get someone.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have certain… connections,” Minghao says. There’s the sound of a pencil tapping against paper. “I could get someone for him.”

“You make it sound so clinical,” Jeonghan whispers. “So cold. Mingyu isn’t cold. He’s warm, kind. He won’t want it to be some random person.”

“He won’t want it to be you either.”

“I want to at least give him the option,” Jeonghan says. He’s being stubborn, he knows that. “And I… could you lend me some of your books, Minghao? On vampirism. I want to learn as much as I can.”

He can hear the smile in Minghao’s voice when he speaks again, “alright, hyung. I’ll drop by in a couple of hours, I have some stuff I need to sort out.”

“How long will it be before he needs to… feed off of me?”

“Hard to say,” Minghao replies. “Transitions are different for everyone. But my best guess is it’ll be necessary before the next full moon.”

“Hao,” Jeonghan says, unable to hide the amusement from his tone. “I have no idea when the next full moon is.”

“Oh,” Minghao says. “Oh, right. Uh, it’s on Wednesday. So in three days.”

“Alright, then,” Jeonghan says. “Thanks for everything, Hao.”

“No problem,” Minghao says. There’s a short pause, then, “Thank you for taking care of him, hyung.”

“I love him,” Jeonghan says, simply. Because it is that simple. At least to him.

“Yeah,” Minghao says. He’s smiling again. “See you soon.”

“Mhm.”

They hang up, and Jeonghan puts the phone back on the bedside table before tugging himself closer to Mingyu, tangling in with him again, as close as he can get. Mingyu lets out a little noise, and his face falls into a more peaceful expression, the frown lines disappearing. He must be dreaming about something more pleasant, now. Or perhaps he’s not dreaming about anything. Jeonghan wonders briefly if Minghao had worked some magic for them– he knew little about magic himself, but he knew enough to know that dreams could be affected, even from a distance.

At around 9pm, Minghao comes by the apartment. Mingyu is woken up by the noise, and he groans, and he’s about to complain– to refuse the help, like he usually does, but Jeonghan has a steady and soft hand on his lower back, encouraging him. Minghao hands Jeonghan a bag full of books, and Mingyu raises an eyebrow at him; Jeonghan just smiles.

“It’s good that you’re able to get up and walk around a bit,” Minghao says. They’re sitting down in the living room now, Mingyu and Jeonghan on the couch– Jeonghan’s got a leg slung over Mingyu’s thigh, and an arm around his waist, and his head on his shoulder. “You’ll need to feed again soon, though.”

“I don’t–”

“I’ll help him,” Jeonghan says, squeezing Mingyu’s hand. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Hyung–”

“Good,” Minghao says. “Have you told him about…”

“No,” Jeonghan says, shaking his head. He looks over at Mingyu, whose expression has turned sour.

“What is it? How can this get any worse?” Mingyu asks, his voice drained and tired. He sounds so sad.

“You’ll need to feed off of a person eventually,” Minghao says. “When your transitions done, you’ll be able to go longer without having to do that, the blood bags will keep you going. But for the transition process…” His voice fades, as Mingyu’s expression grows stormier. “Mingyu…”

He doesn’t reply. Just sits there, silently, and puts his head in his hands. He’s shaking in Jeonghan’s arms.

“I’ll go,” Minghao says.

He bids them farewell with a wave, and leaves the apartment. Jeonghan keeps holding onto Mingyu.

“You don’t need to worry about that right now,” Jeonghan says, kindly. He grazes the knuckles of Mingyu’s shaking hands with his thumb. “You just need to get through today. We can figure everything else out tomorrow.”

“I… hyung, I’m…”

“You’re Mingyu,” Jeonghan says. “You’re Mingyu. I’ll get you a blood bag,” he disentangles himself from Mingyu and walks over to the fridge, gets a blood bag and returns to him. “Here.”

Mingyu frowns at the blood bag, but Jeonghan can see how it gets to him– his upper lip twitches and his eyes change, something dark clouds them, different from lust or desire. A certain hunger, ravenous, want. Jeonghan uncaps the tube and puts it into Mingyu’s hand, and he accepts it reluctantly– but the hunger is barely contained. His eyes glint, and he lifts the bag to his mouth, and drinks, and drinks, swallows it all eagerly and hungrily. He drops the bag on the floor when he’s done and shakes his head, gasping, like he’d momentarily forgotten where he was, what he was doing– he starts to tremble. Then he turns away from Jeonghan, like he’s ashamed, and oh, it breaks Jeonghan’s heart to see him like this. He takes Mingyu’s face in his hands and turns it back to him, puts his forehead against his, smiling.

“Can’t you tell, Gyu?” He whispers, “I’m not scared of you.”

“I– I’m scared,” Mingyu whimpers, bottom lip trembling. “I’m so scared, hyung.”

“Oh, I know,” Jeonghan says. “I know. But I’ve got you. So be scared all you want– I’ll bear it for you. Tremble and cry, if that’s what you need, and see how I love you anyway,” he pulls away, just a little. Just enough that he can look at Mingyu’s face properly, all of him, his eyes, his firmly closed mouth. “Let me see them,” Jeonghan says, softly. “Let me see your fangs, Gyu.”

“I don’t want to… to show you, they’re…”

“Please.”

Mingyu squeezes his eyes shut, like he can’t bear to see Jeonghan’s reaction– but he obliges, and lets his mouth fall open, upper lip curling as he shows Jeonghan his fangs, glinting and wet, still covered in smears of blood. Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, he just does– he presses his lips to Mingyu’s, gently, carefully, with all the love he can muster up in him. Tries to put into the kiss the words he doesn’t say. Mingyu doesn’t kiss back at first, but after a few seconds, he gives in– puts a hand on the back of Jeonghan’s neck and tugs him closer, sighs open mouthed into the kiss, like some ache he’s had for a long time has finally been relieved. When they finally pull apart Jeonghan is breathless, and he feels the same as he’s always done after kissing Mingyu; love, love so big he has to say it just to ease the pressure on his heart.

“I love you,” Jeonghan says. “Fangs or no.”

“I don’t get you,” Mingyu mumbles, “I don’t get you, hyung. You should’ve run away, but you just– kissed me.”

“Would you have run away, Gyu? If it was me who was turned, would you have run?”

“No,” Mingyu says. He seems to give in, now, resolve weakening. “No, I would’ve stayed.”

“See?” He says, “I’m not doing anything you wouldn’t do for me in a heartbeat,” he smiles now, rubs his nose against Mingyu’s– “You idiot. Let’s get you to bed.”

Mingyu goes with him back to his bedroom, slips into bed and lets Jeonghan tuck him in. Meanwhile, Jeonghan gets settled next to him, pulling books out of the bag Minghao had given him and skimming through the titles ‘A Witches Guide to Vampirism’, ‘The Bite and What Follows’, to name a few, and ‘A Comprehensive Collection of The Works of Jeon Wonwoo’, whoever that is.

“What is all this?” Mingyu asks, head on his pillow, curled up next to Jeonghan like a big dog unaware of its size. He takes up over half of the bed, which had always been a little too small for two people.

“I asked Minghao if I could borrow some of his books on Vampirism,” Jeonghan says, as he opens ‘A Witches Guide to Vampirism’.

“Why?”

“Why else? So I can help you.”

“You don’t need to–”

“Mingyu,” Jeonghan says, and he puts the book down into his lap. He bends over Mingyu, so that they’re face to face, and he looks at him intently– it’s important that Mingyu understands it’s going to happen anyway, no matter how hellbent he is on not accepting it. “I know I don’t need to. I know I don’t have to. I know I could leave, and I even know you’d forgive me for it. But I have no intention of leaving, none at all. I’m going to help you, and you’ll owe me nothing in return, because I’m doing this out of love. So you can either accept that I’m going to stay, and let me help you, or we can keep bickering and I’ll help you anyway.”

“So stubborn,” Mingyu mumbles, pouting. But his eyes twinkle warmly up at Jeonghan, and his cheeks flush slightly. “You’re really annoying, you know that, hyung?”

Jeonghan laughs, and presses a kiss to Mingyu’s temple before settling back into the pillows and opening up the book again, “you love me.”

“That too,” Mingyu says. He presses a kiss to Jeonghan’s elbow, and one to his clothed thigh, the only places he can reach with how they’re situated. “Remember to get some sleep at some point, alright?”

“Mhm.”

“Promise.”

Jeonghan cracks a smile again, looking down at Mingyu, “I promise. I’ll go to sleep at midnight, how does that sound?”

“Good,” Mingyu says. He looks down at the book Jeonghan’s holding, at his hands. “Can you read with one hand, hyung?”

Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, just shifts the book into his right hand and reaches out with the left one, grabbing onto Mingyu’s hand. Mingyu envelopes his hand with both of his own, and he closes his eyes, and soon enough he’s asleep again.

When Mingyu wakes up his head is pounding, and there’s a foreign sort of ache in every part of his body. But he can feel the familiar shape of Jeonghan in his arms, the familiar angled shoulders, and the sharp elbows, and his slenders fingers pressed against whatever patch of Mingyu’s skin he can reach. Jeonghan, Jeonghan, Jeonghan. Oh, Mingyu is screwed. What is he going to do? What is he going to do with a love like this? Their conversations from the previous day echo in his head, as clearly as if they’d just happened.

“You’re awake,” Jeonghan murmurs, after some time. He’s stirring awake now, movements slow and more like a cat than a human’s. He stretches, yawning wide, before curling back into Mingyu’s side. “How’d you sleep, Gyu?”

“Good,” Mingyu says, “I think Minghao must have worked some kind of magic on me.”

“He’s a good friend,” Jeonghan says, gently. He moves up onto his elbow so he can look at Mingyu’s face.

Mingyu studies him curiously, but his face reveals very little. All he sees etched into Jeonghan’s features is love.

“Don’t you want to ask?” Mingyu says, quietly.

“I do,” Jeonghan says. “Of course I do. But I won’t. I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready. Just… I was worried sick, you know. When you disappeared like that. I spent the whole night looking for you, calling your name, calling your phone, but you were just gone. Without a trace. You should know that was infinitely more terrifying to me than when I found out you’d been turned. When I walked in here yesterday and saw you covered in blood, all I felt was relief, and happiness, that you’d found your way home alive. That you’d come back to me.”

Mingyu closes his eyes, trying to will himself not to cry again– it doesn’t work very well. The tears come running down his face, and Jeonghan’s fingers are immediately there, wiping them away. When they keep coming Jeonghan shifts himself so that he can cradle Mingyu’s head to his chest, letting him weep into his shirt. And Mingyu feels pathetic, and stupid, and it’s all too much– everything is too much. Jeonghan loves him so much. Mingyu wishes he could feel like he deserved it; he really does. He wishes that when Jeonghan said he loved him he believed him, like he did just two days ago, but now it all sounds wrong, somehow. Jeonghan loves him, but he shouldn’t– not anymore. Mingyu could hurt Jeonghan, really really badly. He doesn’t want to, but that doesn’t mean he won’t. Sometimes you hurt people you love even when you don’t mean to.

“You’re thinking too much,” Jeonghan whispers. He’s slipped back down to lie next to Mingyu, so that they’re face to face, and he puts his palm against Mingyu’s cheek. “You’re overthinking, Gyu. I can almost hear the cogs turning in your brain, trying to think of how to convince me to leave. Well, you can try, but I won’t be going anywhere.”

“Why are you so goddamn stubborn?” Mingyu asks, but his tone isn’t at all angry, or mean. He just sounds a little tired, and in love. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I am safe. I have you.”

“Hyung, I’m– I’m not… What if I’m not me anymore? What if I– I don’t… My body feels weird. I feel like a stranger in my own body. My tongue feels foreign in my mouth. When I look at my hands I don’t even recognize them. So what if I’ve… changed, and I’m not– and I’m not the person you love anymore. I’m not even human anymore, hyung.”

“But you’re still Mingyu” Jeonghan says. “And that’s all that matters to me.”

“How do you know that? How can you be so sure?”

Jeonghan doesn’t reply immediately, just looks at Mingyu, like he’s seeing right through him. And he is, he always did know how to do that.

“Close your eyes,” Jeonghan says.

“What?”

“Just do it,” he says, and Mingyu reluctantly does so. Then Jeonghan takes Mingyu’s left hand and presses it to his skin. “Do you feel that?” He asks.

Mingyu frowns slightly, “Your cheek?”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan says. He moves Mingyu’s hand again, now to a soft and clothed part of him. Thump, thump, thump. “Can you feel that?”

“... Your heart.”

“Mhm,” Jeonghan says. Again, he moves Mingyu’s hand, holding it up in between them. He lifts his own up and aligns their hands, their fingers, and they lie there, palm to palm. “And this?”

“Hyung–”

“Do you feel it?”

“Your hand.”

“How do you know, though?” Jeonghan says. “How do you know that’s my hand? What if I’m just some shapeshifter who’s snuck into your apartment? You can’t even see me.”

“Well, I just…” he pauses, opens his eyes again and then sighs. “Hyung…”

“Hands can remember too,” Jeonghan says, softly. He intertwines their fingers. “This might not feel like your hand, and this body of yours might feel strange and foreign, but it isn’t to me. I know these hands, and that face, and that heart of yours. I know how it beats faster when I tell you I love you, and how it slows down when you fall asleep. I know the creases in your palms, and I know the freckles on your back– they’re all still there, by the way. I checked. And your hands remember me, don’t they? You know my skin, and you know my heart, and you know how our hands fit together.”

“Hyung,” Mingyu says again, a little weaker this time. “Even if you’re right, I’m still different, at least– at least in some way. I’m a vampire, hyung. I’m a…” he pauses again, swallowing. He knows the word, but he can’t bring himself to say it– he tries, but it gets stuck in the back of his throat.

“You’re not a monster, Gyu,” Jeonghan says, seeing through him. His eyes soften, and he pulls Mingyu’s hand closer and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “Or maybe you are. I don’t know. Maybe when you love someone a lot, they just look like love. You look like love to me, Gyu.”

Mingyu sighs, and then, before he can reply, hunger grips him like iron claws– his stomach cramps and he lets out something halfway between a scream and a growl, curling in on himself.

“Blood,” he manages, through gritted teeth– “I need–” he closes his eyes and tries to ignore the sound of Jeonghan’s beating heart, the blood rushing through him, trying to ignore all of it.

His mouth is watering, imagining that blood, Jeonghan’s blood– fuck, fuck, fuck. He lets go of Jeonghan’s hand and rolls out of bed onto the floor, where he quickly scrambles to his feet and runs out of the room, towards the fridge, away from Jeonghan– although he can hear him following close behind. Mingyu falls onto his knees in front of the fridge and opens it, pulling out one of the blood bags, and not bothering with the tube this time, he bites into it and drinks, drinks, drinks. It’s cold and metallic in his mouth, still unfamiliar. He feels slender arms wrap around him from behind, and Jeonghan’s face pressing into the crook of his neck. Mingyu’s hands fall back into his lap, stained red.

“You should’ve told me you were getting hungry,” Jeonghan mumbles, lips against Mingyu’s skin, breath hot on his neck.

“I didn’t even realize it,” Mingyu says, weakly. “Suddenly it just… hit me, like… it hurt, hyung, it hurt– it hurts. And I wanted–” he stops, squeezes his eyes shut.

“Did you want to drink my blood, Gyu?”

“... Yes.”

“You can.”

“Don’t– don’t say that, hyung,” Mingyu whimpers. “I can’t, I wouldn’t–”

“You’ll have to,” Jeonghan murmurs. “You heard Minghao. You’ll have to drink human blood, from a human directly, just once in a while, not very often, but– but I asked him. And you’ll have to do it before Wednesday, to complete your transition.”

“What?”

“Before the full moon,” Jeonghan says, his voice still quiet, gentle. “And I’ve been reading about it. Feeding. It can be… it won’t even hurt me, Gyu. Just a bit, when you break the skin,” Mingyu shudders and Jeonghan tightens his hold. “It can feel good, Gyu. It’s… It can be intimate. It doesn’t have to be cold, or cruel.”

“I’d hurt you,” Mingyu says. “I’d hurt you, hyung. I’d have your blood in my mouth, on my hands.”

“It might be a little selfish off me, but I’d rather you have my blood in your mouth than someone else’s. And besides, it’s not like we haven’t gotten a little rough with each other during sex before.”

Mingyu bursts into laughter, unable to hold back, and he turns around to see Jeonghan grinning back at him.

“How do you just say nonsense like that without any sense of shame, hyung?”

Jeonghan laughs, and takes Mingyu’s face in his hands– he ends up smearing the blood on the sides of his mouth against his cheeks, and it covers his hands, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.

“I mean it though, Gyu,” he says, more seriously. Earnestly. “If you don’t want to, I won’t pressure you, and– Minghao even said he knew where to ‘get someone’ you could feed from, whatever that means. You know how he is. But I want to help you, Gyu, and this is one thing I can do for you. So please… Please let me do this for you.”

“Are you sure, hyung?”

“I’m sure,” Jeonghan says. “We’ve been together for three years, Gyu. And I’ve known you for even longer. I’m not giving up on you now. I’m in this for the long run.”

A question lingers in the back of Mingyu’s mind, one that had been bothering since last night– the long run was a lot longer for him. Mingyu was immortal now. Jeonghan isn’t. They hadn’t talked about that part of all this yet. But maybe… they didn’t have to. Not yet. Mingyu wants to be selfish too. And he is selfish, he doesn’t bring it up– he lets it sit in the back of his mind, unbothered. He lets himself have this moment, untouched. And when he meets Jeonghan’s eyes, he looks at him like he knows well enough. He doesn’t say it out loud either. He gets off the floor and offers Mingyu his hand, stained red. He takes Mingyu to the sink and helps him wash the blood off his face. Mingyu helps Jeonghan get the blood of his hands. It’s enough, for now.

Mingyu is asleep again. And Jeonghan knows why, now. He’d been reading about more than just feeding. The transition from human to vampire is painful and drawn out, stretching over several days, sometimes weeks. Mostly it’s just getting used to your heightened senses, and your heightened emotions– everything happens more than usual, everything is felt more intensely. It takes a toll on your body, and time to get used to. And Mingyu… he was already like that, before. He felt so much, cared so much. His heart was so big. And unlike Jeonghan, he wore his heart on his sleeve, for everyone to see. Jeonghan kept it inside, safe and guarded. From everyone except Mingyu, of course. He’d learned early on in their relationship what Mingyu needed, how he loved and wanted to be loved in return. Mingyu needs to hear it said out loud, needs Jeonghan to say it without hesitation; I love you. So Jeonghan learned to put his heart into words, to whisper them to Mingyu, so he’ll never doubt it. So that he’ll never doubt that he’s loved.

But Mingyu does doubt it now. Jeonghan can see it in his eyes, the flicker of unsureness. Whatever small doubt he’d had before turning has been amplified now, grown large and tumor-like inside him. Jeonghan wants to crack open his chest and dig it out, remove any remaining suspicion, but those are his own selfish wants. Really, everything Mingyu feels is good, if he’d only let himself feel it, so it doesn’t fester inside him instead and grow roots. Jeonghan reaches out now and smooths his fingers over Mingyu’s skin, his cheek, the bridge of his nose. Down his arm, all the way to his knuckles, where he intertwines their fingers. Yeah, he’s still Mingyu. He’s still his Mingyu.

His phone buzzes on the bedside table next to him, and he rolls over and picks up–

“Hello?”

“It’s Minghao. I’ve been doing some… research.”

“Research?” Jeonghan asks. “What kind of research?”

“On the bar you guys went to Saturday night,” he says. “Apparently it’s kind of notorious for being a hunting ground for vampires.”

Jeonghan sighs, fingers fiddling with the hair on the back of Mingyu’s head, “fuck.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t know why they would want to turn Mingyu, though. That part I can’t make sense of yet.”

“Could it have been an accident?” Jeonghan says. “What if they bit him, and he fought back, and somehow he got some of their blood in his system, and then… he died, with the blood still in him.”

“I guess so,” Minghao says, thoughtfully. “I’ll keep looking. I might know someone who knows what vampires frequent that bar.”

“Thank you, Hao,” Jeonghan says. “For everything. For helping. And for telling me what happened, so I could come.”

“Mingyu loves you a lot, hyung,” he says. “And he needs you. More than he’ll admit, I think. But you know that already.”

“I do,” Jeonghan murmurs. “I need him too.”

“Have you… thought about it?”

Jeonghan bites his lip, swallowing back something thick that had formed in his throat, “yes. Yes, it’s all I’ve been thinking about these past few hours.”

“Forever is an awfully long time,” Minghao says. “Even if you love someone.”

“Is it? I don’t know. Those hours where Mingyu was missing, where I didn’t know if he was dead or alive, they felt like forever. But they were just hours. These past two days have felt like minutes to me, but to Mingyu, I’m sure they’ve felt like years. Time is like that. Forever seems like a long time, but who’s to say how long it really is? We might all be dead by tomorrow. Being a vampire doesn’t mean being invincible, or unkillable.”

“It’s your choice,” Minghao says at length. “If you do decide to turn, let me know. I can help you pass on a little easier. Mingyu won’t have the heart to do that part.”

“You’re gonna kill me, Hao?”

Minghao scoffs, “don’t put it like that!”

“Sorry,” Jeonghan says, grinning. “I know what you mean. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“Mingyu’s waking up,” Jeonghan mumbles. “I’ve gotta go, Hao.”

“Alright,” he says. “Tell him I said hi.”

“I will,” they hang up, and Jeonghan puts the phone away before turning back to Mingyu, giving him a smile. “Morning.”

“Isn’t it like three in the afternoon?” Mingyu asks, yawning.

“Dunno,” Jeonghan shrugs, “want to order some food?”

“Do you mean you’ll order food for yourself, and I’ll drink a bag of blood?”

“You can eat normal food, Gyu,” Jeonghan laughs. “It won’t really do anything about your hunger, though. It’ll just be because it’s good.”

“How do you already know more about being a vampire than me, hyung?”

“I read very fast,” he says, before getting out of bed and stretching a hand out for Mingyu to take. “Come on. We’ll have a movie night, how about that?”

“... Okay.”

“What?”

“It’s just… this all feels so normal, suddenly.”

“I told you we haven’t changed,” Jeonghan says, softly. He leans across the bed and takes Mingyu’s hand himself, tugging him forward. “You’re still my boyfriend, Gyu. And I’m yours. We can do normal boyfriend stuff.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, although he sounds slightly hesitant about the idea.

Jeonghan doesn’t mind. He’ll wait for Mingyu to catch up to him if he needs to. And he’ll do this for Mingyu– instill some normalcy as best he can, so that they both have something to cling onto. He orders food for them from their usual Thai place, and then they throw all the couch cushions on the floor and cover them in blankets and pillows from the bedroom. Jeonghan picks the movie, like he always does– he claims Mingyu’s movie taste is like a toddler’s. They slip into their usual routine easily enough, bickering and making jokes, poking each other’s sides and rolling their eyes when the other says something particularly stupid. Mingyu lies down in the mess of pillows and cushions first, and Jeonghan follows, slings his legs over Mingyu’s and grins when he whines in annoyance, and makes no move to remove them. They share the pad thai, and Jeonghan lets Mingyu have the shrimps. About halfway through the movie, Jeonghan gets up and comes back with a soda for himself and a blood bag for Mingyu. The younger boy frowns, like the illusion was suddenly shattered– but Jeonghan ignores it, resolutely. Nothing is all that different, just that Mingyu is drinking something else now. It doesn’t matter. He opens his soda.

“Cheers,” Jeonghan says, smiling.

Mingyu laughs, a real, genuine, laugh. The kind of laugh Jeonghan hasn’t heard since last week. Loud and carefree, warm. And he shakes his head fondly, and he lifts the blood bag up and says, “cheers, hyung.”

Later, the movie’s over and they’re still lying in front of the TV. Jeonghan is tucked into Mingyu’s side, arm around his waist, head resting on his shoulder. Mingyu looks down at him and smiles, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. Jeonghan is so pretty.

“What is it?” Jeonghan asks, quietly. He tilts his head so he can look up at Mingyu. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Can I kiss you, hyung?”

Jeonghan nods, smiling, and Mingyu tugs his leg so that Jeonghan ends up straddling him, and he wraps one arm around his waist, the other holding his chin. Jeonghan sighs softly, arms around Mingyu’s neck, and he leans forward so their foreheads meet, noses brushing. It’s all terrifyingly tender, in a way Mingyu can’t really feel like he deserves. Not right now, not when he is what he is, not when soon he’ll have to drink Jeonghan’s blood– because Jeonghan had been right about one thing. If Mingyu’s going to drink blood from anyone’s neck, it’s going to be Jeonghan’s. He can’t imagine having it be anyone else, as much as the idea of hurting Jeonghan, even briefly, pains him. No, it has to be Jeonghan.

“You’re thinking too much again,” Jeonghan murmurs, voice low– he knows exactly how to press Mingyu’s buttons, knows how to get a rise out of him, knows how to get under his skin. Mingyu can feel him under there now, making himself at home between his ribs. “You don’t need to think, Gyu. Not right now. Just,” he lets a hand slip down in between their bodies, dragging down Mingyu’s torso until he can push his t-shirt up and lie his palm flat against his stomach, digging his nails in just enough that Mingyu can feel it. “Just kiss me.”

And Mingyu does. He’s always been sort of weak in that regard; he wants to kiss Jeonghan all the time. He kisses him now, pulls his head forward the last few centimeters and presses their lips together, and Jeonghan kisses him back with an intensity that makes Mingyu dizzy. His fingers are in Mingyu’s hair now, tugging, and god Mingyu’s going to lose his mind. He feels like he’s going crazy. Kissing Jeonghan had always been good, had always felt good, but now it was positively addicting, it was like nothing else he’d ever experienced– it’s like he’s kissing Jeonghan for the first time again. Soft and slow and passionate, gentle but deep. Not a ‘let’s fuck right now’ sort of kiss, or a ‘see you later’ kiss, but the kind of kiss you give someone when what you want more than anything is to get so close to them that you become one person. Like kissing them is the only relief from existence, and every second you’re not doing it is a second wasted.

Mingyu forgets about everything else, forgets about everything but Jeonghan, Jeonghan, Jeonghan, his lips and his tongue in his mouth, his fingers in his hair and his skin against his, nothing matters but this. He forgets about the blood and the turning and the full moon. Nothing matters except for this, right now. Which was, perhaps, Jeonghan’s plan after all. Mingyu doesn’t have it in him to blame him– he wants to forget too. And they can allow themselves that, can’t they? Just for one night? Mingyu thinks so at least, and when Jeonghan’s fingers slip into the waistband of Mingyu’s sweatpants, he’s sure. The real world can wait until tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes. At around 6am, Mingyu wakes up with a start, hunger coiling in his stomach like red hot lava. It’s getting worse. The hunger hurts more and more, and he gets continuously more desperate for something he can’t really place. He rolls out of bed and goes to the kitchen, grabbing a blood bag from the fridge. As he drinks, Jeonghan comes up behind him, snaking his hands around his waist, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. His hands flatten against Mingyu’s stomach now, and he rests his cheek against his back.

“Pretty convenient, this fast healing,” Jeonghan mumbles sleepily. “You can’t even see the nail marks on your back anymore. The hickeys are gone too.”

“I thought you liked leaving marks,” Mingyu says, turning around in Jeonghan’s arms to look down at him. He leans back against the closed fridge door, the emptied blood bag on the counter.

“I do,” Jeonghan says, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he lets his nails graze over Mingyu’s scalp. “But like this, I have an excuse to do it more often.”

“Like you needed an excuse,” Mingyu scoffs, and Jeonghan laughs, and things are fine. Mingyu leans forward and kisses Jeonghan softly, briefly, before pulling away to press a kiss to his temple and pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you, hyung. For everything.”

“Where’s this coming from?” Jeonghan asks, hugging Mingyu back– “I don’t like that tone of voice you just got. Like you’re about to tell me something sad.”

“It’s not sad, at least not… I mean, that really depends on how you react.”

“Okay,” Jeonghan says, with a soft sigh. He pulls free from the hug just enough that he can look up into Mingyu’s face. “What is it, Gyu?”

“It’s just,” Mingyu says, a bitter sort of smile on his face. He reaches up and pushes the hair out of Jeonghan’s face. “I was planning on asking you to move in with me this week.”

“I would’ve said yes,” Jeonghan replies. He does look sad. “I would still say yes”

Mingyu doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t have the heart to ask, not anymore. Jeonghan seems to understand that well enough without him saying anything. He leans forward and tugs Mingyu down for another soft kiss, an exchange of breath, of love, without any words said out loud.

Later that day, Jeonghan’s lying in bed with Mingyu again, reading another one of Minghao’s books on vampirism. Mingyu had tried to read one of them but it’d put him right to sleep. He’s snoring softly now, at Jeonghan’s side. He lets out a pained noise, and his face scrunches up as if he’s in pain– he curls up, and Jeonghan puts the book away, leaning over Mingyu protectively, covering his body with his own, rubbing circles into his back.

“You’re alright,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

“Hyung,” Mingyu whimpers, hands finding Jeonghan’s shirt and grabbing onto the material desperately. “Hyung.”

“Breathe,” Jeonghan murmurs, “breathe, baby. I’ve got you.”

Mingyu takes a deep shuddering breath, and as he does so, Jeonghan lies down in front of him. He stays close, puts a hand on Mingyu’s face and another on his waist, rubbing circles against hip bone. Slowly, Mingyu’s breathing slows down, and the pained expression leaves his face. His eyes blink open, wet and shiny with tears.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jeonghan asks.

Mingyu sighs, “I'm not sure. I’m a little scared it’ll come back. The nightmare, I mean. The things I saw. Everything is… more scary, now. Fear is more than just fear, it’s like… terror.”

“I can’t pretend that I understand, but I… Everything you feel is good, Gyu. You know that, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t feel very good.”

“I know,” Jeonghan says. “I know it doesn’t. But if you can just let yourself feel it, eventually it’ll pass. If you bottle it all up inside it’s gonna be there forever. You can lock it away but then you’re still left with the safe.”

Mingyu sighs again, and he puts a hand on top of the one Jeonghan’s got pressed to his cheek, “it’s scary, though. I already felt like I felt… too much, before this. And now it’s even more, and I guess… I guess I’m a little afraid you’ll think it’s too much. That I’m too much. I’m afraid I’ll drown you.”

“Nonsense,” Jeonghan says. He rubs his thumb against Mingyu’s cheekbone. “You’re not too much, Gyu. Not for me,” he pauses, and then gives Mingyu a half smile. “I’m an excellent swimmer, you know.”

“Stubborn,” Mingyu mumbles, but he’s fighting back a smile of his own. “Thank you, hyung. You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“I don’t,” Jeonghan says. “I really don’t, Gyu, but I try. I know you need to hear it said out loud, so I do my best to put it into words for you. I’m just… I’m trying to love you in a way you’ll understand.”

“I do understand,” Mingyu says. He gives Jeonghan’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I know that you love me. I guess sometimes I just don’t understand why. I understand that you love me but not… I don’t always know why you love me.”

“I don’t know how not to,” Jeonghan replies simply. He smiles, and scoots forward so he can press a kiss to Mingyu’s lips, before letting his forehead rest against his. They’re so close now that they’re breathing the same air. “I don’t know if that counts as a reason, Gyu, but it’s all I can think of. In truth, I think I love you quite unreasonably. It’s just how I exist now. I don’t think I’d know how to stop if I were to try.”

“Please don’t ever try,” Mingyu says, very quietly. “Please don’t… try to stop. Even if I ask you to.”

Jeonghan nods, and he kisses Mingyu again– longer this time, deeper. Sometimes he doesn’t trust himself to get the words right. And Mingyu puts his hand on the back of Jeonghan’s neck, thumb pressing against the soft spot behind his ear, and kisses him back.

The time between Mingyu’s bouts of hunger gets increasingly shorter as Tuesday passes, and the blood bags seem to quench it less and less now. And when the hunger’s there, it’s much more obvious, pain etched into every feature in Mingyu’s face, and Jeonghan wishes it was easier to suggest that your boyfriend drink your blood, but it’s hard to find the right time. But slowly, a plan starts to take form in Jeonghan’s head. At least, the shell of a plan.

They order takeout for dinner again, and they eat at the table this time; Mingyu offers to do the dishes since Jeonghan had paid for the food, and while he does them Jeonghan sits on the counter and watches over him fondly. A little later they’re getting ready for bed, standing next to each at the bathroom sink. Jeonghan finishes before Mingyu and leans up against the closed door, watching him quietly. There’s a tenseness in Mingyu’s body that’s been there all day, like he’s constantly at war with himself, trying to hold something back. Jeonghan looks at his wristwatch– 9:46pm. According to his calculations, Mingyu was close to needing to feed again. And sure enough, when Mingyu finishes brushing his teeth and turns towards Jeonghan, there’s that look in his eyes; some indescribable hunger brewing, but not yet overwhelming to the point of pain. He blinks at Jeonghan, mildly confused.

“What are you doing, hyung?”

Jeonghan shrugs, “just standing here.”

“Hyung,” Mingyu says, “hyung, I need to–”

“I know,” Jeonghan says.

Finally, it seems to click for Mingyu, and a different sort of pain crosses his face, “please, not– not now, not… I have till tomorrow, don’t I?”

Jeonghan reaches behind him and turns the key in the door, locking it, before pocketing the key.

“It’s killing you, Gyu,” Jeonghan whispers. “I can see it on your face. Hear it in your voice. So much… pain. Hurt. I don’t want you to suffer anymore.”

Mingyu lets out a sigh, but he doesn’t argue. Instead he slowly walks up to Jeonghan, towering over him like he does. Gently, like a tree casting shade on a warm day. But Mingyu is both the sun and the tree. He puts a hand on either of Jeonghan’s shoulders.

“Are you sure, hyung?” He asks. “Are you really… Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Jeonghan replies, his voice breathy as he looks up into Mingyu’s face– he’s barely even touching him yet, but Jeonghan can feel the want all over him. “But kiss me first, won’t you?”

Mingyu gives a halfhearted chuckle, before ducking down the last few inches to press his lips against Jeonghan’s in a seering sort of kiss– it’s more want than it’s love now. Or perhaps the line has blurred somewhere far behind them. But even still, Mingyu’s holding back. Jeonghan can feel how his hands shake with the effort, how Mingyu wants so desperately to be gentle. He grazes his knuckles against the side of Jeonghan’s face, the touch revering. Careful.

“Your skin is so soft,” Mingyu murmurs into the kiss, now pressing his palm flat against his cheek. “You can say stop at any time, you know. You–”

“Mingyu,” Jeonghan interrupts, crossing his arms behind Mingyu’s neck, holding him where he is. He’d been trying to pull away. “I want this. I want you.”

To punctuate his point, he tilts his head back and to the side, exposing the length of his neck to Mingyu. Jeonghan shudders slightly when Mingyu lets out a low hiss, and he hears how his nails dig into the door next to his head, making deep gashes in the wood. It’s intoxicating, this feeling– that he affected Mingyu this much. It’s exhilarating. Mingyu never seemed to fully understand that he has the same effect on Jeonghan.

“Hyung…”

“I trust you,” Jeonghan whispers, eyes half lidded as he looks back at Mingyu. “I trust you.”

Mingyu takes a deep breath, before he leans forward the last few inches– he starts by pressing a kiss to Jeonghan’s jaw bone, and he leaves kisses all the way up to the spot below his ear, where he opens his mouth and lets his tongue slip out to lick the sensitive skin. Jeonghan whines, his hold on Mingyu tightening. Mingyu pushes Jeonghan further up the wall, and with little effort lifts him off the ground and wraps his legs around his waist. Jeonghan hooks his ankles behind him, heels digging into Mingyu’s lower back, tugging him ever closer. Mingyu goes back to his ministrations, and he uses a hand to gently tilt Jeonghan’s head further back, thumb pressed against the underside of his chin, palm resting at his pulsepoint. Jeonghan feels lightheaded, and then Mingyu starts pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck again, to his throat– one on his Adam’s apple, and one to the dip created by his collarbones, before he moves on to the side of neck. He pulls away again, and his other hand comes up to touch the side of Jeonghan’s neck, fingers dancing across the skin, the places he’d kissed. He takes another deep breath.

“Are you sure?” He asks again. He looks up at Jeonghan, eyes so clouded with want and love and hunger that it looks painful for him not to do it. But still, he’s Mingyu, and his needs always come last. “If you’re not sure, we can–”

“Do it,” Jeonghan replies. His breath hitches when Mingyu growls, and finally– his canines elongate, growing sharper. Mingyu closes his mouth to hide them, and Jeonghan smiles fondly. He lets go of Mingyu’s shoulders for a brief moment, and he puts a hand on Mingyu’s face, pushing his thumb into his mouth and lifting his lip so he can admire Mingyu’s fangs. “Pretty,” he whispers.

Mingyu finally gives in to the hunger– the affirmation that Jeonghan still wasn’t scared, still wants him to do it, still wants him, seems to push Mingyu over the edge. He shakes his head free of Jeonghan’s hand and presses his lips to his neck again, using his tongue to find his pulse, open mouthed and all want as he finally breaks Jeonghan’s skin, fangs sinking into his throat as he swallows hungrily, desperately– Jeonghan lets out a high pitched whine at first, which quickly turns into whimpering, and then the pain disappears completely. He’s still whimpering, though, quickly turning into a mess in Mingyu’s arms at the feeling; it feels good. Mingyu feels so good. The books had severely underplayed how good it felt. It was like nothing Jeonghan had ever experienced before. He feels hazy, hands clawing desperately at Mingyu’s back, still trying to get him closer, wants to be swallowed up by Mingyu completely. But Mingyu pulls away, much to Jeonghan’s dismay.

“Fuck,” Mingyu mumbles, “fuck, hyung, you– you taste so good. So good.”

“Gyu,” Jeonghan whines, head spinning as Mingyu goes back to flatten his tongue against the wound, licking up the blood that had leaked out. “Gyu,” he says again, a little more impatient this time. He digs his heels into Mingyu’s lower back a little harder, “I can see it on your face. You’re still hungry.”

“Yes, but I–”

“Please,” Jeonghan says, fingers now threading through Mingyu’s hair, tugging– “please, Gyu.”

Mingyu lets out a noise somewhere between a whine and a groan, before he presses another kiss to Jeonghan’s throat, and another– soft and gentle kisses, scattered across the skin of Jeonghan’s neck before he sinks his teeth back in. Jeonghan’s panting, feeling near tears– his head falls forward onto Mingyu’s shoulder, and it’s all so intense, it’s so much. It’s overwhelming in a good way. Mingyu pulls away just a little, like a free diver coming back up for breath, before he bites down again, a little harder this time. Jeonghan’s finally pushed over the edge, and tears start streaming down his face; he feels too good to really have time to feel embarrassed. And besides, by how Mingyu was acting, he liked this too. It’s not very long before Mingyu pulls away again, and he does what he did before– licks the wound clean, so to speak, before he lifts Jeonghan’s head off his shoulder so he can rest it against his forehead instead.

“You’re crying,” Mingyu mumbles, a hand coming up to wipe the tears away. “I’m sorry, did I–”

“No, no,” Jeonghan hurries, smiling. “No, you did good, Gyu.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, softly.

His fangs are still out, and his mouth is dripping blood, but he gets this expression on his face like a sad puppy, and Jeonghan can’t help but kiss him– he’s overcome with his own sort of hunger. Mingyu seems a little taken aback at first, but he’s quick to return the kiss, melting into the kiss, and not pulling away until they have to break apart to breathe.

“We should probably get this blood washed off,” Mingyu says sheepishly. He tries to wipe the blood from his mouth but all it does is smear it across his face. “And your… neck. We should probably bandage it, or something.”

“Minghao brought some stuff for this… particular situation the last time he came over,” Jeonghan says, still panting slightly.

“Alright,” Mingyu says. “I’ll take care of you, hyung,” he smiles, seemingly more to himself than to Jeonghan. “It’s finally my turn to take care of you.”

Jeonghan smiles, and presses a brief kiss to Mingyu’s lips, before he’s put back down on the floor– he sways slightly as a wave of dizziness hits him, but he manages to grip onto Mingyu’s arms before he falls. Mingyu laughs, and then picks him off the ground again and sets him down on the counter next to the sink.

“Stay there,” Mingyu says, gently– “I’ll go get you something to help with your blood sugar, alright?”

Within a few moments Mingyu’s back in the bathroom with a chocolate bar, which he gives to Jeonghan who accepts it gratefully. He eats it while Mingyu begins to draw a bath; half way through he gets a towel, which he holds under the tap before using it to wipe the blood off his face. He walks over to Jeonghan.

“You missed a spot,” Jeonghan says, licking his thumb before using it to wipe away a stray drop of blood that had trickled down onto Mingyu’s collarbone. “Why are you wiping yourself clean now? Aren’t you getting in the bath with me?”

He shakes his head and presses a kiss to Jeonghan’s temple, “no, I told you, didn’t I? It’s my turn to take care of you.”

“Fine,” Jeonghan sighs, feigning a look of mild annoyance, and grinning when Mingyu rolls his eyes at him.

He lets Mingyu help him out of his clothes and into the warm soapy bath. Mingyu sits on a stool next to him and grabs a clean washcloth, which he dips into the water before gently scrubbing Jeonghan’s back clean, and then his neck, carefully avoiding the bite itself. He washes his hair, like Jeonghan had done for him that Sunday morning when he’d woken up as a vampire. When he’s done, Mingyu helps Jeonghan out of the bath– he sees right through Jeonghan’s attempts to hide the dizziness he still feels. He helps him into clean clothes, and then Mingyu picks him up again, one arm under Jeonghan’s bent knees and the other supporting his back. Jeonghan wraps his arms around his neck and presses a kiss to his jaw. When they reach the bedroom, Mingyu sets Jeonghan down on the bed gently, eyes moving to the wound on his shoulder, filling with concern.

“It’s bruising,” he says, quietly. “And it’s still bleeding a little. Is that… normal?”

“It’s just a bite, Gyu,” Jeonghan reassures, patting his head. “I’ll be fine.”

Mingyu nods vaguely, and then leaves to find the stuff Minghao had left for them. He comes back with a tote bag in one hand, and a bowl of hot water in the other. He sits down on the edge of the bed, placing the bowl on the bedside table, and starts pulling things out of the bag, placing them on the bed with a frown. There’s some sort of small tin container filled with a salve that has an herby sort of scent to it, a bundle of actual herbs, some gauze and surgical tape, and a vial with a clear liquid which gives off a very strong smell when Mingyu pulls the cork out. At the bottom, there’s a small piece of paper which Mingyu picks up and reads, scrutinizing every word before he starts. First, he gently cleans the wound again with warm water and a towel. Then he pours the strong smelling liquid onto a piece of gauze, and looks at Jeonghan hesitantly.

“It’ll sting,” he says.

“Alright,” Jeonghan says.

He reaches over and grabs onto Mingyu’s shoulder, and then Mingyu presses the gauze to the wound– Jeonghan lets out a hiss, lurching forward as he digs his nails into Mingyu’s shoulder. Mingyu makes an apologetic noise, as he hurries to clean the wound– when the gauze is removed the pain lingers, like the aftereffect of a wasp sting. There’s a brief pause, where Jeonghan sits hunched forward, gasping for breath as he waits for Mingyu to continue; the other boy seems hesitant in his movements, probably afraid to cause Jeonghan any more pain than he already has. Then Mingyu’s fingers are on his skin again, massaging the salve into it gingerly, and the pain starts to ebb away. Jeonghan’s grip on Mingyu’s shoulder loosens, and with a sigh of relief he falls back onto the pillows, and gives Mingyu a weak smile.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jeonghan says.

Mingyu scoffs, although his eyes are still filled to the brim with concern, “I still have to bandage it,” he says. Jeonghan leans forward a bit again, presenting his neck to Mingyu, who places a piece of gauze on the wound and uses the surgical tape to secure it. Then he hands Jeonghan the herbs, “Minghao wrote that you should eat this. It’s for, well, the blood loss.”

Jeonghan takes them and views them with mild distaste before quickly eating them, grimacing at the sour taste. Mingyu once again looks apologetic, and once Jeonghan’s swallowed down the herbs, he takes Mingyu’s face in his hands, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you, Gyu,” Jeonghan murmurs, before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Even when you have my blood in your mouth. Even with your teeth in my neck. I wouldn’t do this for anyone but you, you know that, don’t you? Only for you would I bare my neck like that. Only for you.”

Mingyu lets out a soft sigh, leaning into the touch. “I love you too, hyung,” he whispers. “Thank you. Thank you, I’m so… thankful, for you.”

“Let’s get some sleep,” Jeonghan says, pressing a kiss to the shell of Mingyu’s ear now.

He can see it in Mingyu’s face, how his thoughts hang over him like dark clouds, threatening to drown him in the downpour. Jeonghan won’t let them. Mingyu gets up and hangs the tote bag on the door handle before turning off the big light and slipping back into bed next to him. Jeonghan crawls into his arms, and Mingyu tucks Jeonghan’s head under his chin, arms wrapping around his body. They intertwine, melt into each other. Jeonghan wishes they could stay here, in this moment.

When Mingyu wakes up Wednesday morning, he feels… good. Strong. The strange ache he’d had since Sunday has finally gone completely. Jeonghan is asleep in his arms, a peaceful look on his face. Like this, he could almost trick himself into believing that everything was fine. That nothing had changed from how things were a week ago. But the gauze covering the right side of Jeonghan’s neck gives it away, and it makes something in Mingyu’s heart twist painfully– he’d done that to him. He lifts a hand up and carefully, barely even touching at all, runs his fingers over the gauze. Suddenly, Jeonghan’s fingers wrap around his wrist, holding his hand in place over the gauze.

“It doesn’t hurt at all,” Jeonghan murmurs, “not even a little.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” Jeonghan hums, and he moves Mingyu’s hand so he can press a kiss to his palm, and then to his knuckles. “I’ll be as good as new in a few days.”

Mingyu is quiet for a few moments, just looking at Jeonghan.

“Hyung,” he says, at length. “Hyung, what… what are we going to do now?”

“What do you mean?” Jeonghan says, although he looks like he knows well enough. He sighs. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t care? I don’t care if you’re a vampire.”

“But I care,” Mingyu says, sort of desperately. He wishes it was easier for him to put it into words, he wishes he knew how to say it in a way Jeonghan could understand. “You deserve more than this, hyung. You should have… Someone you can grow old with, who you can be buried next to. And I thought it was going to be me, but I– I can’t give you that anymore, can I?”

“You idiot,” Jeonghan mumbles, “you stupid, stupid– do you think I’ve been with you for three years because I was looking forward to being in a grave with you? I want to live with you, Gyu. I want to live with you, like this, just… you and me.”

“But how long would that last? What about when you turn 40 and I’m still 25? What about when you’re 70?”

“Are you really going to make me say it, Gyu?” Jeonghan asks. He smiles, but it’s a defeated sort of smile. “I was kind of hoping you’d ask me first. It’d be a little romantic, I thought.”

“Wh– hyung? You don’t mean…” Mingyu’s brain sort of short circuits at that moment. He looks back at Jeonghan unblinkingly, eyes wide. “Hyung, are you insane?”

“A little bit, probably,” Jeonghan shrugs. “What do you think, Gyu? Want to live in this tangled mess forever? It’s an awfully long time, sure, but I think we’d do alright.”

“Hyung you’d have to– to die, I can’t ask you to–”

“You don’t have to ask me to,” Jeonghan says. “But I do… I do need to hear you say it, Gyu. Say that you want this, me, forever– and you’ll have it.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Jeonghan says simply. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like Jeonghan’s not offering to give up his life, everything that he knows, only to be with Mingyu.

Mingyu swallows roughly, breathing hard as he looks at Jeonghan, and he wants– oh, he wants so badly, and so much, and suddenly all of it is offered to him. It’s terrifying. He has no idea what he’s done to deserve this.

“I do,” Mingyu says, finally. His voice is almost as shaky as his hands are when he lifts them to cradle Jeonghan’s face. “Oh, of course I do, hyung.”

Jeonghan lets out a sigh of what sounds like relief, eyes fluttering closed, “I was starting to think you didn’t. You never take what you want, Gyu. I always have to ask you to take it.”

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu murmurs, thumb caressing Jeonghan’s cheek. “‘M sorry, hyung. I’m afraid to ask for too much.”

“Well, don’t be,” Jeonghan says steadily. He opens his eyes again. “I’d give you anything if you just asked.”

“... Can I kiss you?”

Jeonghan laughs, shaking his head fondly before he surges forward and kisses Mingyu, kisses him hard, pushing his shoulders and flipping him onto his back. Jeonghan straddles his waist, and breaks the kiss to sit up, hovering over Mingyu.

“Yes,” Jeonghan says, a little late. He smiles, hands slipping under Mingyu’s t-shirt and feeling their way across the expanse of his stomach, fingertips grazing across his skin. “I’ve been awfully curious, you know. About what blood tastes like. Or well, more specifically, your blood.”

“Really?” Mingyu says, as his hands travel up the outside of Jeonghan’s thighs to grip his waist. One of them slides up the back of Jeonghan’s shirt to press flat against the small of his back. “If it tastes anything like yours…” his voice fades, as he smiles, fingernails digging into Jeonghan’s skin lightly.

“What did it taste like?” Jeonghan asks, leaning forwards, urged on by Mingyu’s touch. “What did I taste like, Gyu?” Their faces are so close now that they’re sharing air.

“Sweet,” Mingyu says. “Like cherry wine–” he hesitates, but steels himself. Takes a deep breath, before very quietly asking, “hyung, can I taste you again?”

Jeonghan’s smile returns, eyes glinting. He lifts a hand up and offers Mingyu the fleshy part of his thumb, and Mingyu’s mouth falls open, canines extending, and then he bites down gently, tongue moving against the skin to ease the sting. Jeonghan gasps softly, head falling forwards and into the crook of Mingyu’s neck, where he stays while his free hand grips Mingyu’s bicep tightly, nails digging deep grooves in his skin. Then Jeonghan does something unexpected– digs his teeth into the soft part where Mingyu’s shoulder and neck meet hard enough to draw blood. He does draw blood, Mingyu feels it trickling down his back, but most of it Jeonghan manages to swallow before pulling away, panting. Mingyu pulls his teeth back and lets go of his hand, and Jeonghan sits back up, grinning, teeth wet with blood. He’s never looked more beautiful. And Mingyu can’t help himself, he leans up and takes Jeonghan’s face in his hands again, kissing him, letting the blood still in their mouths mix together.

Mingyu hates being selfish, but Jeonghan makes him want to be– he wants Jeonghan, and he wants him forever. He knows it’ll be this, the two of them, for as long Jeonghan will let him.