Work Text:
“When will you stop this bullshits ?”
The bathroom light is cold and sharp, mercilessly illuminating Mingyu's tired face as he sits on the edge of the tub with his head thrown back and his knuckles covered in small cuts and cracks.
His eyes are tired, the right one surrounded by a purple bruise, and his expression shows a dark and deep shadow that only the fatigue and pain of a hard night can leave. His eyebrow is split, a line of blood has now dried on the skin, tracing a silent path on his beautiful adonis face that joins the other fresh battle scars. His cheek is red, a mosaic of yellowish spots stand out on the sides of his nose and a small cut on his temple is still freshly open.
Doctor Jeon Wonwoo takes a cotton ball from the cabinet and dips it in a disinfectant solution, soaking the cloth carefully, without haste, then he turns to him and places a firm, cold hand under Mingyu’s chin to lift his face toward the light, so marked by a life that never seems to want to calm down. With his other hand, Wonwoo begins to dab his eyebrow, cleaning delicately the coagulated blood as Mingyu holds back a gasp. The burning sensation of the disinfectant is pungent, it seeps into the wound, but he simply stares into space under that stern gaze that is piercing him at that moment.
Mingyu doesn’t answer his question, instead he tries to avoid Wonwoo’s dark eyes, to focus only on the feeling of the rough cotton rubbing against his wounded skin, as if that little pain were his silent punishment, a form of atonement. “You know, it’s the rotten part of my job…” he finally finds the words, which don’t elicit a pleasant reaction from Wonwoo. His lips curl and the bitterness rises up into his chest, his movements are gentle and delicate but Mingyu actually knows that the discomfort is boiling inside.
“What you do is not a job, it’s madness” he replies coldly, pulling his hand away with a brusque, almost contemptuous movement. The cotton ball now stained with blood falls into the sink leaving a scarlet stain on the ceramic, Wonwoo looks at him through the mirror as the tension thickens between them, an invisible rope that stretches to the breaking point.
The frustration in his eyes is almost palpable. All those nights spent waiting, all the times he imagined the door of that apartment opening and Mingyu entering, not covered in blood, not ravaged by violence, but simply healthy, intact, now seem only sweet illusions. He is there, once again with his face marked by those clandestine boxing fights that are gradually taking everything from him: his flesh, his skin… his soul.
The silence in the bathroom is thick, a heavy emptiness that seems to absorb every suspended word. The tension is like a blade between them and Mingyu sighs when Wonwoo comes closer again to treat him again. Every touch is precise, a care that tastes of regret, an attempt to save something that seems further and further away each time, “I’m fine…”
“It doesn’t seem so to me” Wonwoo says with a merciless calm.
Mingyu snorts, looking away, “They’ll disappear in a few days, like always. Stop worrying”
“Do you enjoy so much playing with your life ?”
His question hits him, like a blade that sinks precisely into his stomach, and Mingyu feels it rising from his soul, digging into his motivations. He would like to find something sensible to say but without beating around the bush, he answers with disconcerting sincerity, almost brazen, “Maybe I want to do it, maybe I want to risk it”
Wonwoo stops, his gaze firm and penetrating, "Mingyu" the name comes out of his lips like a plea, like a reproach.
The truth between them is an invisible presence but heavy as lead. The truth is that Wonwoo after 120 years of damnation had finally found a balance with Mingyu, he had fallen in love even though his heart was no longer beating, even though his emotions were dead. Just as dead he was too.
His non-life had given him the chance to see new decades and immerse himself in new eras, and every time Mingyu looks at him it is as if he saw him set in a fantastic eternity that he will never be able to reach. Mingyu longs to be like him, to free himself of that fragile flesh and that skin that every night is marked by punches and blows, but Wonwoo had always stopped him with an inflexible calm and a fierce determination, as if he knew that that road would only lead him to an abyss with no return.
And now, every time Mingyu shows up late at night covered in bruises and cuts, Wonwoo feels a cold anger rising from deep within. It’s as if Mingyu, in these underground fights, in his profession as a professional boxer, is trying to reach that same eternal life through a dark and dangerous path, as if he wants to prove to himself that nothing can stop him, not even mortality.
“I don’t want to start arguing about this nonsense again” Wonwoo says, his voice barely above a whisper, yet sharp, with that frustration that seems to make his jaw vibrate. He goes back to cleaning Mingyu’s temple, the cut that perhaps needs stitches.
“It’s not nonsense to me,” he replies, his fists clenched until the knuckles are white, despite the twinge of pain that runs through his already bruised hands, “You just don’t understand”
That sentence hangs in the air, hitting Wonwoo with unexpected intensity, he stiffens and his grip on the cotton ball becomes firmer despite his pale fingers continuing to gently caress his partner’s wounded face. Those scars, those bruises that he keeps to heal with love and with the taste of anger on his tongue, are a silent challenge that forces him to face his own inability to protect him every time.
Their difference, that damned distance that seems unbridgeable, is always there, immobile between them that re-emerges forcefully with every little sigh. Wonwoo had met Mingyu in his hospital’s clinic, with him he had experienced his first imprinting, something extremely strong that goes beyond love, and since then, after 5 years in which they had faced everything — Mingyu’s shock at discovering that Wonwoo was actually a vampire, the differences in their habits and their curiosity about each other’s lives — that same damned misunderstanding continued to exist despite everything.
A gap that no matter how much they tried to leave it behind, seemed never to close and for 5 years now it has always been the same story between them, always the same damn fight. Mingyu wanted an eternity by his side, Wonwoo instead did not want him to give up his life for an illusion, an immortality that, in his eyes, was nothing but a condemnation.
Wonwoo walks away from him showing an icy coldness, “I’m done here” he says, leaving him there with the tension that builds up like a storm under his skin.
But Mingyu isn’t willing to let it go. He follows him into the room, walking quickly, his gaze lit up with anger and something deeper that even he can’t name. As soon as he enters the bedroom, in fact, Wonwoo turns around suddenly, already aware of his presence, his gaze firm, almost threatening.
“Why do you always act like this ?” Mingyu begins, his voice low but full of resentment, “Why does it have to be a war between us every time we open up this topic ?”
“I don’t know, Mingyu, you tell me,” Wonwoo replies with his eyes sparkling with a sharp, almost dangerous anxiety, “You’re the one who shows up here like this every time and I… I have to clean up your madness as if it were a habit, as if it were my duty, a sort of punishment you want to inflict on me”
Mingyu just looks at him defiantly, with that stubbornness that makes him tremble with rage, “Is that what you think ? That I want to die just to punish you ?”
“What else, if not ? You hurt me every time you come home like this. You hurt me every time you ignore what I tell you and it almost seems like you do it on purpose, as if you were trying to make me feel helpless” he says, “This life… my life, is not a game, Mingyu. You don’t know how much it costs to lose what you love only to find out that nothing can die inside you, nothing can be felt anymore and… I can’t let you become like me just because of this absurd obsession of yours to take risks”
“Of course because you know everything, you allow yourself to have the presumption of knowing what I feel. You are so superior, so wise in your immortality!” he replies with the acid sarcasm dripping from his words, “I am not one of your patients, Wonwoo. I don’t need to be saved and I am not your responsibility. I don't need you to stay here and take care of me just out of your sense of duty, judging me every time I make a choice"
"And what is this choice ? The one to get yourself killed ? You think I'm happy to know you play with your life night after night, and for what, Mingyu ? To prove to yourself that you can still have sensations, feelings ? To want to feel what it feels like to die and to... be a monster, like me ?"
"If you care so much about me, you should be happy that I want to be like you. Do you think I don't suffer, knowing that you don't see me as your equal ? That you don't see future prospects between us ? Do you think I don't understand what you hide behind all your silences every time someone asks you about me, about our relationship ?"
Those words hit him like a slap, and Wonwoo feels the anger and disappointment rising, along with the frustration of having to face that side of Mingyu that is like a flame too strong, that risks devouring them both, “Whether you like it or not, you will never be like me. I won’t turn you into one, whatever it happens”
“So what’s the point of continuing all this, Wonwoo ?” Mingyu asks, spreading his arms as the tension between them fills with a silent pain that seems to suffocate them both. Mingyu feels a deep pang in his chest, an emptiness that seems to widen, while Wonwoo’s words penetrate his soul, “If you don’t want to give me a chance, you don’t want me to live like you, you don’t want me to be like you… if all this desire of mine for eternity with you is so unbearable for you, why do you keep staying here ? Why don’t you leave ?”
Because I love you.
But his words remain hanging in the air, dense as clouds before the storm. Wonwoo looks at Mingyu in those eyes that burn with a feeling confused between anger and pain, but behind which there is a deep love, a love that he cannot hide even as his words become sharp as blades. Slowly, his anger fades away, transforming into a silent sadness, while the weight of that distance between them returns to settle, heavy, implacable, distancing them further and further.
They remain there, in silence, two souls separated by a truth impossible to ignore, yet so desperately chained to each other.
The room falls into a frightening silence and Wonwoo has a vacant look, lost in Mingyu's, "You're right..." he whispers and the resignation in his words is a dull blow, like the thud of a heart breaking, “It's clear by now that we have two different perspectives and all this between us doesn't make sense anymore"
Mingyu lowers his gaze, his chest swelling with a dull and familiar pain, but now it seems to invade every space inside him, leaving him empty. His hand trembles, as he clenches his fists in a desperate attempt to hold on to that something he knows he's already lost. Wonwoo's face is a distant shadow now, and despite the anger, despite the resentment, every fiber of his body wants to scream, to grab that shadow before it escapes.
But he doesn't. He stays still, his teeth clenched and his jaw tense, with feelings stuck in his throat.
“I’m going hunting with Jeonghan tonight” Wonwoo whispers, his voice so low it almost sounds like a breath, “I’ll be back in two days to collect my things”
Those words, simple and firm, spread across the room like a cruel echo. Mingyu feels something inside him break, a deep wound that opens even more and that lets out the pain that he has tried to hold back until now. He lowers his gaze, clenching his jaw tightly, and his chest hurts in a tangle of emotions that he can no longer control.
Wonwoo stays there for another moment, and for a second he almost seems to hesitate, as if something inside him wants to break that decision already. Mingyu closes his eyes, unable to face that growing emptiness, he doesn’t want to see him going away, he doesn’t want the last image of Wonwoo to be that of him leaving the room without another word and second thought.
Time seems to stop, every second that passes is like a crack that expands in his heart and when he finally looks up, Mingyu feels a light draft on his face. The window is open, the curtains move slightly, as if pushed by an invisible wind and Wonwoo is gone.
Silent, like a shadow that dissolves in the night.
And Mingyu is now completely alone, dealing with a boulder that weighs on his chest.
The days without Wonwoo drag on for Mingyu like a long and cold winter. Every minute passes thick with a suffocating apathy like an oppressive weight that creeps into every corner of his home, the same home he used to love so much and that now seems empty and meaningless. Loneliness clings to him with invisible claws and nothing can distract him from that ghostly silence that seems to live between those walls, invading every space, every memory of his but above all his every breath.
The night is the worst time for Mingyu. When darkness falls and the outside world seems to disappear, he finds himself alone in the bed he shares with Wonwoo, where they used to hug and make love till dawn, where intertwined in each other's arms every problem seemed to vanish. Just looking at it is enough to be overwhelmed by memories, snapshots of a life that now seems distant and almost unreal. He sees himself next to Wonwoo, lying between the fresh sheets, their bodies wrapped in each other, with the morning light timidly filtering through the curtains. He remembers how softly Wonwoo speaks to him, in a low and calm voice, his eyes slightly half-closed and that shy curve of his lips that could melt him.
When he sits on the sofa, another memory violently makes its way, making the silence even heavier. He sees the clear image of the two of them sitting there, under the soft blanket that Wonwoo liked so much. It was a small domestic ritual, one of those simple and intimate moments that had filled their evenings. Mingyu sees them cuddled up again, Wonwoo's arms wrapped around him while they watch a movie together; he sometimes ends to fall asleep but Wonwoo is just too comfortable to wake him up to say him to move to bed, wanting to stay in that position forever.
The blanket is still there, folded neatly on the couch, and the mere sight of it makes him feel like a boulder is weighing on his chest. Wonwoo loved that blanket for its softness, for how it protected Mingyu from the cold while they were together, wrapped up and far away from the rest of the world. Mingyu brushes the fabric with his fingers, and for a moment he closes his eyes, imagining that it is still Wonwoo that he feels, his calm and reassuring presence.
But it is only an illusion. When he opens his eyes again, the couch is empty, the bed is cold, and Wonwoo’s absence seems to grow more acute, like an increasingly dark shadow. Even the small objects in the house, the insignificant details, become ghosts of a past life: the purple mug that Wonwoo used every morning for his warm tea, the book left half-finished on the nightstand, the shoes placed next to the door, as if he were about to return at any moment. Every object seems to bear witness to his past presence and current absence, making Mingyu a prisoner of a pain he can’t escape.
And so the days drag on, one after the other, without change, without relief. Mingyu wanders around the house in the grip of an apathy that consumes him, unable to accept that new reality and also unable to let go. Every night he falls asleep with his gaze fixed on an indefinite point on the ceiling, hoping that the heavy silence will break and that Wonwoo will return, even if only for an instant, even if only to say goodbye.
But the house stays silent and Wonwoo’s absence becomes the only company he has left, a ghost he will never forget.
Mingyu’s anger indeed slowly intensifies like a poison coursing through his veins, a dull, growing emotion that eats him from the inside. It’s something bitter, the kind of feeling that has no outlet, that stays chained in his heart and turns every thought into a wave of pain. A part of him still can’t believe how Wonwoo rejected the only thing he wanted to give him: his life, his very soul. Mingyu didn’t care about the risks, the dangerous path he could take; the only thing he wanted was to share every fragment of himself with Wonwoo, down to his last breath, down to his last heartbeat.
But Wonwoo didn’t understand. Worse still, Wonwoo didn’t want to understand.
This consciousness is like a boulder in Mingyu’s chest. He’s fought for everything in his life, with every fiber of his body to earn what he has, but no one — no one — has ever fought for him. And now, when he finally found someone he would give everything for, that someone turned away without a word. Mingyu feels irrelevant, as if his love, his sacrifices, his very presence had no weight in Wonwoo’s life at all.
And this hurts him more than any punch, more than any clandestine match. Because this is a battle he cannot win, a battle Wonwoo has already decided not to fight.
The feeling of inadequacy, of having been rejected, devours him. Mingyu has always lived in struggle, balanced on a thin thread made of strength and vulnerability, but in every fight he has always known that he was fighting for something real and concrete. This time, however, it is as if he is fighting against an invisible wall, the void itself, and every punch he throws dissolves into the air, leaving him even more alone. He feels that all his certainties are crumbling, as if the image of himself, of the self that he was with Wonwoo, had only been an illusion.
When he walks around the house, Mingyu feels like a ghost wandering through memories. Every corner is filled with Wonwoo's presence and everything seems to whisper to him how useless his attempt to hold back the love he so desired was. Why didn't Wonwoo choose to fight for him ? The question torments him and in the darkness of sleepless nights, when the silence becomes unbearable, he hears that voice whispering to him that maybe Mingyu was never enough. Maybe Wonwoo only saw in him a companion in transit, someone he could never truly understand.
Also because sooner or later Mingyu would have died and Wonwoo would have moved on with another life anyway.
Frustration consumes him and the more he thinks about it, the more he feels that sense of irrelevance crushes him. Mingyu feels like he hasn't been seen for who he really is, that he has been excluded from Wonwoo's world like a stranger. This is the real wound, the one that can't heal: knowing that for Wonwoo, their relationship wasn't important enough to risk.
And that anger, that flame that burns silently and inexorably, is the only thing he has left, a bitter heat that keeps him alive even as it consumes him.
Mingyu crawls into bed with slow movements, tired and burdened by a day spent trying in vain to escape himself. The darkness of the room welcomes him so silent, enveloping him in an illusory calm. He closes his eyes, hoping to find at least a moment of respite, a small oasis in which to forget the emptiness he feels, the torment that keeps him awake every night.
Time passes slowly, marked by the rhythm of his breathing, when suddenly he feels a presence, a silent shadow approaching. The light pressure of the mattress makes him understand that he is no longer alone, and for a moment his heart beats faster, in disbelief. Then, without warning, two cold, familiar and delicate arms envelop him from behind, holding him with a tenderness that disarms him.
Wonwoo leans against him, his forehead resting on his nape and Mingyu feels that slight shiver that crosses his skin, that sensation of cold that he loves to death. There is something indescribable in that contact, in that cold that seems to merge with his warmth, as if, even without words, Wonwoo was telling him everything he can't say out loud.
A silent echo of a love that, despite everything, has never died.
Mingyu's heart beats faster, in a rhythm that he feels growing against his chest, yet he doesn't move, he doesn't say anything. He doesn't want to shatter that moment. He stays still with his eyes still closed, listening to every single nuance of that presence he thought he had lost.
"Are you sleeping ?" Wonwoo's voice reaches him like a whisper, just a breath in the darkness of the room. It’s low, almost shy, and Mingyu feels that little tremor that insinuates itself into the words, as if even Wonwoo feared breaking that fragile balance between them.
Wonwoo is actually just testing the waters, he knows he's awake, and Mingyu doesn't answer him. He stays there, in silence, with his eyes open in the darkness, letting the warmth of his breath mix with that cold that he loves so much and has never stopped desiring. Wonwoo takes a long moment for himself, holding Mingyu with a tenderness that has the flavor of melancholy. His breathing is slow and constant, a strangely calm rhythm for the tension that has divided them, for all that still needs to be said and that weighs between them like a shadow. Then, with an almost heartbreaking tenderness, Wonwoo loosens his grip a little and searches for his hand so he can intertwine their fingers.
“You probably don't want to listen to me and you're right to still be mad at me” he starts in a whisper, his voice soft "I can feel your distress but you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, I’m here just because I… I’m sorry for the things I said the other day, for how miserable I made you feel” Wonwoo’s hand slide down Mingyu’s arm, tracing a light caress, “I’m not the best person in the world, you know that, and sometimes I get too carried away… by feelings that I still struggle to understand and control. I have this deep sense of protection towards you, Mingyu, and if I got angry, if I was rude with my words it’s only because… I can’t help but think that you still have so much to live for”
He pauses for a moment to search for the right words and Mingyu feels the weight of his attempt to make amends, the depth of that apology and the sincerity with which he is saying it, “I understand your desire for something new, to share everything… with me” he continues with unexpected sweetness, “But I wish you could also understand my point of view… what it means, to me, to live like this. I died in a brutal way, I was never given a choice, I didn’t ask to be a vampire and every day that passes I wonder what it would have been like to have had a different life. I… just wish you would try, just for a little while, to appreciate your life again. It is precious, Mingyu, it really is, even if you may not be able to see it”
The room is wrapped in silence, broken only by that light touch of fingers. There is a disarming sincerity in those words, a love that is expressed in gestures more than in sentences and Mingyu feels the weight of that affection, of that care, which is even more painful than a rejection.
“I love you” Wonwoo whispers, Mingyu feels his heart tighten, “I love you… even if I don’t know what it means to feel my heart beating for someone. Even if maybe I can’t love the way you love” and in that moment, Wonwoo comes closer, pressing his forehead against Mingyu’s neck in a contact that feels like promise and surrender, “But for what I can feel, I do love you with every part of me”
Mingyu squeezes his already closed eyes, feeling that familiar and beloved cold that envelops him and that seems to him the only warmth he really needs in the world. A tear silently runs down his cheek and, for an instant, all the pain and anger dissolve, leaving room only for the two of them, for their hands intertwined in the darkness that touch each other united by an invisible and unstoppable force.
He slowly turns over in bed, his heart beating faster as he finds himself face to face with Wonwoo. In the dim light his black pupils stare at him, deep as an abyss, and Mingyu says nothing rather carefully he moves closer and places his lips on Wonwoo’s, a light, sweet kiss expresses every unsaid word, every shared and hidden pain. It is a kiss that seems made of tenderness and regret, of an unshakable love that despite everything still tries to resist.
Wonwoo returns the kiss, touching his face with a delicate hand, his cold fingers following the contour of his cheek as if they were drawing the memory of that moment and in that touch, Mingyu feels all the love that Wonwoo tries to give him, every emotion that, although silent, burns beneath the surface. Their lips smack sensually against each other and when they part, Mingyu does not move away completely. He stays there, with his forehead resting on Wonwoo's, eyes closed and breathing slowly as he brushes the tip of their noses in an intimate gesture that seems to want to shorten the distance that they both feel.
“I’m still hurt” he whispers.
“I know…” Wonwoo replies, feeling a slight tremor in his voice.
“But I don’t want you to go away, I don’t want you to leave me” Mingyu says like a prayer whispered in the dark. He feels fragile, exposed, but he knows he has to say it. It’s his heart asking, even though he knows how hard it is.
Wonwoo nods and caresses his face again, “I’d understand if you wanted to put an end to all this, if you wanted to quit everything” he pauses, trying to hold back the emotion that shakes his voice, “I know it’s not easy living with… someone like me, for you to accept that our lives are so different. And I feel selfish because I want you, I want you so bad, but I can’t ask you to keep living in this uncertainty”
Mingyu listens to him and sighs, “I don’t want us to end” he finally says, “I just want… there to be a way to be together without feeling distant. It’s just that sometimes I feel like… like I’m here, but you’re always ready to go”
Wonwoo looks him burning with melancholy and for a moment Mingyu thinks he’ll say something back, that maybe he’ll tell him he’s right. But instead, with a slowness that seems heavy and decisive, Wonwoo holds him close, closing his eyes as if he, too, is silently praying. “I’m here” he whispers, his voice cracking slightly, “Even though we’re different, even though this is my nature… I’m here. I might not know what it means to love the way you do but I feel this love, Mingyu… and I don’t want to lose it”
They hug each other tightly in silence, waiting for a hope that will keep them together, and for a moment, the world stops seeming so far away. Then Mingyu takes a deep breath, “Why can’t you accept my choice ?” his words are sincere, almost pleading, “Why can’t you see that being like you isn’t a sacrifice for me, but the life I want ?”
Wonwoo looks at him, a hint of pain on his face, and lets out a heavy sigh, as if the questions are too much to bear, “Dying is not a choice, Mingyu” he murmurs in a tone that is almost a whisper, a confession torn from deep within. “Dying is a condemnation”
“Living without you is a condemnation” he replies, shaking his head unable to accept that vision “I cannot imagine a future in which I become old while you keep staying like this, immutable. I can't bear the thought of being a stranger by your side at some point, someone you'll eventually have to leave behind"
Wonwoo senses something different this time, an urgency and sincerity that he has never felt so strongly. And that desire, for the first time, does not sound like a whim, but like a necessity.
Mingyu continues, his voice cracking, confessing a secret that has been hidden for too long, “I never… I never felt like my life had a purpose, a true meaning. I always fought for those small things that would make me live decently but I never fought for anything important. With you, Wonwoo, I feel like I finally know what it means to truly exist, and I want you… to be my direction” he murmurs, “I want to have you forever because I’m okay only when I am with you, my mind is in peace only when you’re by my side”
Mingyu’s voice is almost a whisper and Wonwoo feels like he’s about to give in to that request, to the desperation he hears in those words. He lowers his gaze for a moment then hints at a barely perceptible smile, a shadow of tenderness that only Mingyu can see, “You know” he says softly, “I like to feel it… the beat of your heart. Feeling it throbbing under my hand, knowing it increases in heartbeats… when you look at me”
“What else can you feel ?”
“My senses are different from yours, they are heightened. I can feel everything about you” Wonwoo replies honestly, “Your blood flowing through your veins, the warmth of your skin. I know when you’re happy, when you’re angry, when you’re sad. I can feel every nuance of what you feel, like waves running through me” his voice becomes suddenly a whisper, “And you will lose all of that, Mingyu, if you decide to take this step. You will be like me, empty… a shell without the warmth you now possess”
“Maybe… precisely because you don’t have that warmth, together we will complete each other” he is so confident, so sweet, that Wonwoo feels a shiver run down his spine, “Have you ever stopped to think that my warmth exists precisely to reach you, to fill that part of you that you could never fill alone ?”
Wonwoo feels his sweetness overwhelming him as Mingyu gets closer to caress his cheek, “Do you want to stay in this void forever, or do you want to share it with me ?” he whispers, his gaze straight into Wonwoo’s eyes, and in the silence that follows, Wonwoo feels for the first time the weight, and at the same time the beauty, of a shared future.
He lowers his gaze, feeling almost fragile, that promise perhaps too big even for him, “I’m scared, Mingyu” he murmurs, with a purity he rarely grants, “I’m scared that one day you might regret it… that eternity will tire you, that it will seem like a prison”
Mingyu shakes his head, an unshakable determination shines in his eyes, “It will never happen” he says, “Because with you I can do things that will never tire me. Just think about… we can see the sunrise of every place in this world. Travel to the corners of the earth, explore every city, every small town. We will have the eternity to discover new places together… and we can learn everything that has ever crossed our minds, painting, playing music, learning languages that don’t even exist anymore. Making up stories that no one will listen to, cooking foods we’ve never tasted. And, every night, we can come back here, to this bed, in our home”
Wonwoo softens at his enthusiasm but also sighs, trying to stay rational, “You know it’s not just a choice. Being like me means making sacrifices you can’t imagine. Every few years we’ll have to move cities, disappear, leave everything we know behind… or people will start to notice that we don’t age, that we’re not like them. It’s a life of running away, Min, of constant goodbyes”
But Mingyu smiles, his enthusiasm not fading even in the face of those limitations, “It seems perfect to me. We never stay in one place for too long, we don’t have time to get tired of life” he moves closer, pecking his lips, “We could buy a house in Paris, you love Paris, you’ve told me about it so many times… we could walk along the Seine every night, see the rooftops at sunset”
Wonwoo feels a smile curl his lips, struck by that enthusiasm. Seeing him so full of dreams and projects displaces him but Mingyu keeps rambling, his eyes shining even more, “And when we get tired, we could go to Los Angeles in a house by the sea”
He laughs softly, feeling suddenly lighter, “So you’re already ready to travel the entire world, mh…” he whispers on his lips.
“I’d go everywhere with you” Mingyu replies, without hesitation, “Every night of this life, and the next. There’s nothing I want more than that”
Wonwoo looks at Mingyu’s face, and for the first time in a long time, he feels that maybe, indeed, there is a future for them. Not one of escape, but of promises and dreams.
His smile widens gently thinking about that, softening the always somewhat stern look of his face. There is a rare warmth in that expression, a tender inclination of the lips that he reserves for Mingyu only because hearing him plan a life together, building dreams so bright and full of hope, gives him a feeling that is difficult to put into words. He looks at him, and a delicate, almost moved light lights up in his eyes.
“Give me three years” Wonwoo then says.
Mingyu tilts his head, confused, “Three years ?” he repeats it, his question like a whisper.
Wonwoo nods, “Yes, three years. So you can reach thirty and end your boxing career. I promise I will help you prepare for this life but I want you to live a little longer as you are now” his voice is full of affectionate firmness, and there is a hint of nostalgia in his eyes, as if he wanted to carve into your memory every feature of that proud humanity of Mingyu, “I want you to be ready when the time comes… to have no regrets”
Mingyu stares at him for a moment, thinking about those words. Wonwoo’s proposal seems wise to him, a good compromise that, after all, doesn’t deprive him of anything: three years is little more than a breath compared to the eternity they will have. And, thinking about it, accepting his proposal is a promise in itself, a confirmation that their love has time to grow further.
Slowly he nods and then envelops him in a tight hug, one of those that comes naturally to him, sinking his nose into his neck, “Okay…” he whispers, “Just three more years”
Wonwoo lifts his face and kisses him softly, he could never get enough of those kisses, who knows how he thought he would live without them. They separate by only a few centimeters and in that moment of silence Mingyu notices a detail that had escaped him. Wonwoo's eyes are darker, deep shadows and black as pitch, his irises have lost that amber glimmer.
“Are you hungry ?” he asks concerned.
Wonwoo smiles, “It’s not important, I can survive”
“Feed from me ?” Mingyu proposes.
“No”
“Please ?”
Mingyu lifts himself up slightly on the bed, slowly exposing his neck. Seeing his throat so exposed is not an accidental gesture but a calculated one, an offering as devoted as it is vulnerable. His eyes lower slightly as if through that submission he wanted to show Wonwoo not only his trust, but also his deep need to take care of him, to be the refuge where he can feel safe without fear.
Mingyu knows how much Wonwoo suffers from denying himself and so he strips himself of all defenses, abandoning to him not only his body, but also his heart.
Wonwoo looks at him, an indecipherable expression in his eyes as dark as night. He feels the pulse of his vein growing stronger, that beat so alive and human so full of promises and hopes.
“Mingyu” he calls him, but the love in his tone makes his denial seem more tender than firm.
“Just this once” Mingyu whispers, his voice warm and confident, “Please”
Wonwoo is torn but touched by that request. His hands slide down the exposed neck, gently touching the warm, pulsating skin. Every inch that separates them seems to disappear into the silence of the room as Wonwoo gets closer to that vein that calls him but instead of giving in to hunger, he stops a few millimeters away, letting his breath brush Mingyu’s skin, feeling every heartbeat alive, full, vibrant.
And then, instead of giving in to the impulse of thirst, he places a sweet kiss on that neck, soft as a feather.
It’s a kiss that contains a world of emotions, of promises whispered and never said.
A kiss that speaks of the fear of losing him and of the commitment to protect him, even from himself.
Mingyu closes his eyes, letting that tender and sincere contact fill him up to the core, aware that he needs nothing but that sweet weight on his heart.
That kiss that descends into his soul like a promise of eternal love.