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Minho was not having a very good day.
It started with a headache, the kind of pain where the pressure builds and builds until your skull feels too small to contain it and it's all going to burst out at any moment. Then came the irritability: he snapped at Hyunjin with a little more bite than was warranted, and any minor inconvenience felt like a personal attack targeted towards him. Even Acorn seemed to sense his bad mood and had the foresight to steer clear of him.
It wasn't until late in the afternoon, when something clawed at his insides like a wild animal and his teeth began to ache, that he realized what was happening. Ah yes, when was the last time he'd fed? Surely before he'd joined this party, but how long before? A month? Two? He'd let himself get so distracted that he lost track and now the hunger was settling in.
He'd have to do something about it as soon as possible. They were only two days out from getting back to town. He could keep himself in control until then.
There was no way he could go to any of his party members for help. He didn't think they would trust him enough. They knew what he was, obviously, but there had never been a conversation about his particular set of needs. They probably assumed he was already secretly taking care of himself without their knowledge.
The problem was, his feedings would always require another person. And consent, of course, that was most important. He had a fairly reliable source back in town who let him take the nightmares away for a middling amount of coin; he should have checked in before they left. His fault for not paying attention to his own body.
He could make it. It wasn't like he'd never gotten to the brink of starvation before. He'd survive.
Or so he kept telling himself, when he woke up the next day with the pain intensified, like his skeleton was trying to crawl its way out of his skin. Every muscle in his body ached; just getting out of his bedroll felt like a monumental achievement.
"Wow, you look like shit," Seungmin said.
Minho threw up a middle finger and did not reply.
Chan and Felix stood nearby in quiet conversation, glancing over at him every once in a while. It was quite clear they were discussing him, and they were not being very subtle about it.
"It's not something that healing is going to be able to fix." He raised his voice just enough for them to notice that he was talking to them. "I just need to eat, that's all. I can do that when we get back."
"Think I've got some rations left in my pack," Changbin offered.
Minho stared at him and waited for him to connect the dots.
It took a second, but he got there. Changbin's face colored. "Oh. Right. Sorry."
"What even do you need to eat, anyway?" Hyunjin asked, eyeing him. "Is it bl--"
"If the next word out of your mouth is 'blood', I'm going to bite you."
Minho thought he heard Hyunjin mutter hot, then rubbed at his temples like that was going to relieve the pain in any way.
"He made sure to tell me very specifically that he doesn't drink blood," Jisung piped up. "He said so the first time we met. But I don't know anything other than that." He rolled his eyes in Minho's direction. "Because somebody, and I don't want to name any names, doesn't like to share anything about himself."
You know, he really liked Jisung, but fuck, this was not the time to be called out on his lack of openness.
"It probably would be a good idea for us to know, though," said Chan.
Minho was getting irritated again. Too many people kept talking and his head was killing him. Why couldn't they just leave him alone so that they could hurry back to town and let him deal with this on his own?
"I mean," Chan continued. "If we knew what you need, we could help--"
"Dreams, ok?" Minho shouted, anger finally spilling out of him. "I eat people's dreams. There! Now you know."
Well, that certainly shut everyone up.
"Yes, I literally have to bite people when they're asleep. No, I haven't bitten any of you so don't worry about it. Yes, you would remember if I had. There would be marks." He rattled off the answers to the questions he assumed they were itching to ask. "And I would appreciate it if we could speed this along and get back to town so I can get to my source."
They stared at him for a few moments, before most of them awkwardly turned away to find something to do that didn't involve continuing the conversation. Jisung was the only one that approached him.
"What?" Minho snapped. He regretted immediately, but he couldn't help it.
"Does it... does it hurt?" Jisung asked. "Getting your dreams eaten, I mean."
"I haven't had any complaints. Maybe a little soreness from the bite itself sometimes." Why was he asking?
Acorn was fidgeting on Jisung's shoulder. Jisung patted his head like he was trying to calm the squirrel down. "It's just that... if you really need to eat something..."
"No."
"I didn't even say anything yet!"
"I know what you were going to offer, and the answer's still no. I'm not feeding from you. Any of you." He didn't want to admit that it was because these were people that he knew. They were people that he spent a significant amount of his time with. They were people that might, possibly, even have him appear in their dreams from time to time. And truth be told, he didn't really want to know exactly how they might see him there.
Except for maybe Jisung, but even then, he wasn't going to go around biting someone just to confirm a theory. It would be an invasion of privacy, even with permission. People were rarely able to control what they dreamt about.
It was different when it was someone he didn't know well. He never really had to worry about what he might see there; their fears, their insecurities, their doubts, it didn't concern him personally. Most people were even grateful that he helped them to forget those, if only for a moment. The handful of times he'd had to take lovely ones instead also weren't a big issue--he didn't take their memories, just the single instance of one dream, which could always be repeated later. Minho almost never showed up as a character in the imagination of whoever he was feeding on, because they simply didn't know him well enough and he simply didn't care.
But his party? The group he was slowly coming around to trust with his life? That held potential consequences that he wasn't ready to deal with yet, even if the hunger gnawing at his bones was driving him insane.
Jisung was still looking at him with concern on his face. "You're hurting," he said softly. "Please let me help."
For one long moment, his resolve wavered. Jisung was offering, with almost no knowledge of what it entailed. Not just anyone would be willing to do that for him.
"If you want to help," and it took a real effort to get these words out, to not just agree outright, "then get me back home as quickly as possible."
Jisung opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, then closed it and nodded. He reached forward and squeezed Minho's hand once. "As quick as we can."
They made excellent time, but unless they traveled through the night, they weren't going to make it back to town for at least one more day. Chan was willing to wait a little longer than usual before calling it quits to set up camp, but wasn't going to push everyone to go all night. The others needed their rest, and Minho couldn't fault them for that. Though he did very much consider just going ahead on his own.
That idea was quickly shot down by both Chan and Jisung, the latter of which refused to even let Minho out of his sight.
Minho had been miserable all day, and everyone was acutely aware of it. No one tried to joke with him or engage him in any conversation beyond checking if he was alright. He wasn't, but telling them that wasn't going to accomplish anything. Mostly he just stayed quiet and kept to himself so he didn't go off on anyone again.
When camp was made, he barely ate anything at dinner and then set up his bedroll farther away from the others than usual. One more night, he told himself. They'd be back in town tomorrow and he could get to his source. Maybe if he paid a little extra, the guy would even consider taking a mid-day nap so Minho didn't have to wait until nightfall.
He was so distracted by his own thoughts and his pain that he didn't notice that Jisung had approached him until he heard Acorn's chirps. When he rolled over, Jisung had spread his bedroll out next to Minho's like this was a normal occurrence.
"What are you doing?" Minho asked.
Jisung shrugged. "Going to bed," he replied. His tone was casual, as if he wasn't deeply aware of what he was doing to Minho's control right now.
Minho's eyes narrowed. "You're not afraid I'll be tempted?"
"Honestly, I'm kinda hoping you will be. You need to eat. I'm a little scared you won't make it until tomorrow."
Minho wanted to retort that his hunger hadn't killed him yet, but then again, he had never been this hungry before. Maybe he was dying. What if he went to sleep tonight and just... didn't wake up in the morning, because his body had given up on him? Was he really so willing to let his newfound friends deal with his potential corpse just because he was being stubborn?
Jisung was giving him that kicked-puppy look again. Minho hated the thought of being in the afterlife and knowing that Jisung would somehow blame himself if Minho had died in the night.
So he made what he thought was probably a bad decision, in the long run.
"...fine. But only this once."
Jisung's expression brightened before he schooled it back into something more resembling determination. He scrambled to sit cross-legged as close to Minho as he could get. "What do you need me to do?"
Minho sighed. "I need you to go to sleep."
"Oh. Right. Yea, that makes sense." Jisung blushed. "Anything else?"
"Not really. You just sleep, and dream, and then I'll... do what I do. You'll wake up with a bite mark and no recollection of what you dreamed about. That's about it." It was a piss-poor description at best, but he didn't think Jisung would care about the finer details of his feedings at the moment.
Jisung frowned. "And you're not just saying this to get me to go to sleep while you actually just suffer in silence for the rest of the night?"
If Minho had it in him to roll his eyes, he would have. "Sungie, I don't really have the mental capacity to convincingly lie to you right now. So no, I'm not just saying things. You're just gonna have to trust me."
"I do trust you!" Jisung said a little too loudly. He sheepishly looked around at where the others were trying to sleep, then lowered his voice. "So much. That's why I said you could bite me. Because I know you wouldn't hurt me on purpose."
Deep in his heart, Minho didn't believe that he deserved that level of blind trust. They really hadn't known each other for that long, and Jisung had never been witness to one of his feedings to guarantee that the process was exactly how Minho said it was. Jisung was simply taking him at his word. Practically every other person Minho had ever fed from had first required detailed information, multiple reassurances, and even demonstrations to prove that they were in no danger. And here was this stupid, beautiful boy, ready to just jump in with both eyes closed, no hesitation--believing in Minho, exactly as he'd done from almost the moment they'd met.
Minho didn't deserve Jisung's trust, but he had it anyway.
"Go to sleep, Sungie," he said in a much softer voice.
Jisung squinted at him. "And you promise you'll eat?"
"I promise."
That seemed to be enough to get Jisung to lie down in his bedroll and get himself comfortable. He tossed and turned for a handful of minutes before shyly looking back over at Minho.
"I think maybe I'm too nervous to sleep now," he said. "Do you think... maybe you could hold my hand? Just until I fall asleep?"
Minho wordlessly held out his hand and let him weave their fingers together.
"Thanks," Jisung whispered. He closed his eyes. Acorn made an investigative sniff at their joined hands before curling up on Jisung's pillow.
Minho watched and waited until Jisung's breath evened out and he was reasonably sure that he was asleep. He scooted closer, watching for signs that Jisung was dreaming. He'd gotten pretty good at telling when someone was in a dream state over the years, a combination of practice and intuition. Jisung was making barely discernable expressions of distress, indicating that whatever he was dreaming about, it wasn't particularly pleasant.
Minho tried to mentally brace himself for what he would find. Then, as gently and carefully as he could, he leaned down and sank his teeth into Jisung's neck.
The moment they pierced skin, he could already feel his pain begin to ebb. Finally, some blessed relief. He unconsciously bit down a little harder. There was always a little blood from the initial bite, though Minho was always careful not to drink it. It wasn't a necessity for his feedings, and he preferred not giving in to vampiric stereotypes when he could avoid it. He shut his eyes and waited for the visions to overwhelm him.
What greeted him was a dark forest. Minho couldn't be sure if it was a familiar one or simply the concept of one. Jisung knelt there, tears streaming down his face, screaming in agony. In his hands he clutched a small, brown, broken body...
Minho wanted to look away. This was private, and painful, and not for him to see. But he didn't get to choose what others dreamed about, and he didn't get a choice about what he witnessed.
The dream shifted slightly. Suddenly there was a version of Minho standing there. The real Minho's breath caught in his throat. This is something he'd been afraid of. What would he do in someone else's thoughts?
Jisung looked up at the dream Minho. "Please," he begged in a ragged voice. "You can't leave me, too. Please don't leave me all alone."
The dream Minho said nothing; he simply turned around and walked off into the forest, ignorant of Jisung's continued and frenzied pleas to come back. The real Minho wanted to reassure Jisung that he was there, that he wasn't going anywhere, but he didn't have a voice here. He was an audience, not a participant.
He was glad that he would be able to take this nightmare away from Jisung. He didn't need to have this weighing him down the next day. Or ever, really, but there was only so much that Minho could do about that.
Minho had never really been able to explain exactly how he took dreams. It was instinctive, not something he was taught, so he didn't know how to put it into words that others would understand. All he knew that was he bit, he saw, he acknowledged, and when he came out of it, he was satiated. Jisung would wake up without knowing what it was he had dreamed about, and Minho would not tell him the truth if he asked.
He came back to the waking world feeling weightless. His headache was gone, his muscle aches nearly so. His bones were finally staying put where they belonged. It was almost strange, to not feel that pain that he'd been carrying around for two days now. He told himself he would never let his hunger cravings get that bad again. It had been excruciating.
He pulled his fangs out of Jisung's neck and carefully wiped the blood away. Jisung's face looked much more at peace now that he was rid of his nightmare. Minho had been able to do that for him. For all Jisung's talk of wanting to help Minho, it was arguably Minho who had done the helping.
He spent a few more minutes watching Jisung sleep before he finally succumbed to slumber himself.
Minho awoke to the sensation of fur tickling his cheek. He opened his eyes to find Acorn sitting there, sniffing at him.
"Good morning to you too," he said. "Can you get out of my face, though?"
Acorn squeaked and bounded back over to Jisung, who was still lying down in his bedroll, but his eyes were open and watching Minho.
"Morning," Minho told him. "How do you feel?"
"My neck hurts a little bit, but otherwise... pretty good, actually." Jisung smiled. "So you really did it, huh?"
Minho nodded. "I promised."
"I don't remember even having a dream. Are you sure I did?"
Minho nodded again.
"Was it good or bad?"
Minho hesitated. "It... I think you'd say it was a nightmare. You wouldn't want to remember it." He wasn't going to say anything more than that.
"Oh." Jisung was quiet for a few moments. "I guess I'm glad you ate it, then. Do they... taste different, or anything like that? Good dreams and nightmares, I mean?"
That almost made Minho laugh. "They don't really taste like anything. And I haven't really noticed any difference one way or another. They're all the same to me."
Jisung nodded as if he understood. "You look better today," he said. "No more pain?"
"No more pain."
"Good. 'Cause I don't want to see you like that ever again. You scared the shit out of me."
Minho couldn't quite meet his eyes. "I'm sorry for worrying you."
Jisung put on a fake mad face. "Don't do it again."
"Yes, mom."
The others started to stir, so Jisung and Minho got up and began packing away their bedrolls. Chan must have realized something was different, because he came closer and said, "You seem to be in a much better mood this morning."
Minho shrugged. "I ate."
Chan looked back and forth between the two of them for a minute. He didn't say anything, but it was clear that he was picking up the implications.
"Next time, tell us about something like this before it gets that bad, yea?" He didn't sound angry, just concerned. "We're your party, we want to help."
"I know. I'm sorry." He really did mean it.
"Apology accepted." Chan moved forward and pulled Minho into a hug, which Minho allowed, for once. "I'm sure everyone else will be glad to see you're doing better, too." Then he added, in a much quieter voice, "Especially Jisungie. I think you really freaked him out."
Minho nodded. "Yea, I noticed."
"But you guys are... good?"
Minho looked over at Jisung, who was apparently deep in conversation with Acorn, or at least pretending to be. "Yea, I think we're good."
Chan smiled. "Well, since we're not in a rush anymore, I think we can afford a little bit of a lazier start this morning. Let's make a proper breakfast." He patted Minho on the shoulder, did the same to Jisung, then went over to their small campfire and started pulling things out of his pack.
Minho watched him go, then turned back to Jisung. They were still a little ways apart from the rest of the party, because Minho had wanted to wallow in his own misery in private the night before. He got lost in his own thoughts for a moment, then made a decision.
He went up to Jisung, who appeared to have finished his talk with his squirrel, or was giving up on the pretense. He could see the marks on Jisung's neck that his fangs had left. They would fade in time, but it would be a glaring sign to everybody else what had happened that night. A sign of what Minho had done, of what Jisung had let him do.
It solidified his decision.
Jisung looked at him and tilted his head, as if to say Yes? Did you need something?
"I, uh, realized I never properly thanked you, for helping me," Minho said. "So, thank you."
"Oh, you don't have to thank me," Jisung started. "I told you, I wanted--"
Minho kissed him. A short, quick thing, but it was effective enough to stun Jisung into silence.
Somewhere from the direction of the camp, someone shouted, "Fucking finally!"