Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

WEDNESDAY

“I’m telling you Kai…” Soobin sighed, flipping through his notes. He was sure he’d left the latest draft of another treatment plan on top of the department desk, in plain sight. Where was it now? He didn’t have the energy to feel frustrated, so close to finishing his shift, if only the paperwork would sort itself out. “It’s his specialty. What else is he doing, if not playing mind games?”

"You know, just because he’s a neurologist doesn’t mean that every interaction is a case study,” Kai lectured, patient as ever; adding to the painfully long list of other times he’d said the exact same thing.

It was starting to sound like a diagnosis.

Somehow, Soobin still wasn’t convinced.

"Yeah, right. The way I see it, I’m just part of his staff-wide sample size.”

"Then why doesn’t he flirt with me?”

Soobin looked Kai dead in the eyes – not much of a feat for a vampire, though there wasn’t any way his younger friend would know. “He does flirt with you. He’s just… tamer about it.”

"Which means you’re different.”

“Yeah. I’m not falling for it.” 

He smiled at another member of staff passing by – Sujin, as it turned out, heading out with her two friends from orthopedics, Heiran and Yumi. Though he rarely had the chance to interact with all of them, he and Sujin shared a lunch hour during the week, and clearly, she’d grown fond enough to give him a wide grin.

"Soobin! Finishing up as well?”

A faint whiff of blood made Soobin’s nose twitch, the reflex quickly hidden between scrunched eyes and an honest smile. He gave up on digging through the paperwork. “Sujin, hi. Yeah, I’m almost done. How was your shift?”

"Not as bad as yours, I hear,” she teased.

Her friends stifled laughs behind their hands.

Somehow, Soobin was sure she didn’t mean the older uncle who came in for the fifth time that month after drinking a little too much coffee. Shooting Kai a glare over his shoulder – the brat was giggling too, proud that he’d spoken loud enough for the entire east wing to hear – the thought of coffee brought to mind another dilemma. With no time for breaks, he hadn’t been able to drop by pediatrics, and the two tupperware boxes he intended to give Kai – one for the blond, and one for Taehyun – were still in his bag. Kai would pout if he didn’t get his, but it was unlikely that limp, three day old cookies would impress Taehyun’s new boyfriend, who Soobin was yet to meet. In a spur-of-the-moment choice, he pulled one tupperware from his backpack.

“Yeah, well,” he said, hoping that Sujin wouldn’t question who was flirting with him. Ever a social butterfly the likes of which terrified him, Soobin knew she would play matchmaker. The mere idea made him shudder. “Would you like some of these?” He held out the cookies. “I made too many on Sunday, and haven’t been able to get through them.”

It was true.

They were meant for Taehyun’s boyfriend, but an emergency surgery came up, and they’d been forced to postpone. His feigned lack of appetite was also a far better explanation than: I can smell that you’re bleeding, so you might appreciate these. He had some tact. Being aware of other’s bodily states made him feel like a pervert, but then again, he’d gotten much desired, great reviews on his baking ventures from female colleagues, and it wasn’t like he planned-

“Baking for two?” Sujin cooed. “What’s the occasion? An anniversary?”

Soobin scoffed. 

Rolled his eyes, for good measure. 

“Sure. To celebrate having nothing better to do.”

“I think it’s a great use of time,” Yumi offered, shy but kind, peeking over Sujin’s shoulder at the red velvet, chocolate chip cookies. “They look really good.”

“Ah.” Bowing his head, Soobin smiled. “Thanks Yumi. I should have offered them to you instead of my ungrateful friend-”

“I’ll take them.” Sujin swiped the tupperware from his hands, not shy in the slightest. The glint in her eyes was sharper than the overhead lamps. “We can share, anyway. Thanks for providing us with snacks for our girl’s night Soobinnie. You’re my favourite hospital heartthrob.”

Shit.

The cardiology pun could only mean one thing.

She knew exactly who was flirting with him.

“Spare me,” he deadpanned, meaning it in the mercy sense as much as the unimpressed one. He couldn’t take another demon putting him at risk of a heart attack, the likes of which were quite impossible for him without the use of a black notebook. It was a miracle that all his friends routinely got so close. 

“Sure thing, sweetheart!” Sujin called, waving to him as she fled down the hall with Heiran and Yumi on her tail, none of them bothering to hide their grins behind their hair. “Thanks again! See you tomorrow!”

Soobin didn’t deign her with a reply.

It would likely be in poor taste.

“That could’ve gone worse,” Kai opined, wise as always. 

The sound of a door closing echoed down the hall. 

Taking the other tupperware out of his zebra-striped bag, Soobin huffed. “Here’s your share, by the way. I was meaning to give them to you earlier but got busy during lunch.”

“You’re the best!” There were – contrary to all known laws of the human body – actual stars in Kai’s eyes. “Ohh, red velvet too. Are you planning to make more of these for Beomgyu’s Halloween party?” 

He’d been meaning to after confirming whether Beomgyu even liked them, but neither he nor Kai would be seeing the man until Saturday. Just his luck. In all honesty, Soobin didn’t want to go – he much preferred cosier parties where he knew at least half of the guests – but Kai gave him those evil puppy eyes, mumbling how he wouldn’t know anyone either, so that was that. 

He would be going. 

And making cookies too, apparently.

“Yeah, so you better tell me if they’re any good or not.”

Before he even finished talking, there was a cookie shoved inside Kai’s mouth, crumbs dotting his lips. Receiving an enthusiastic thumbs up and a moment of quiet, Soobin refocused on finding that lost treatment plan. He really didn’t feel like drafting it up again. Though, he should’ve known the peace wouldn’t last long.

“I bet someone else will like these too~” Kai teased, waving another cookie at him. 

The irony wasn’t lost on Soobin. 

Would it have killed him to pick anything other than red, famously known to be the favourite and signature colour of a certain someone’s style? In short: no. Nothing could kill him. But he’d deny the tenuous link between his colour choice and that someone to hell and back. 

“You’re so funny,” he muttered, shuffling through more papers. He’d been meaning to apologise for acting irritable all day, but at the rate things were going, perhaps shoving another cookie in Kai’s mouth would be for the better.

Still chewing, Kai asked, “Why don’t you want to believe it?” 

Worse than his loud smack of lips was the knowledge that the question was genuine. Soobin sighed, waving his hand. “Have you seen him?”

“Seen who?” A voice piped up.

It sent a shiver down Soobin’s spine.

“Yeonjun!” The air whistled with how excitedly Kai waved. “What brings you here?”

“I had some paperwork to drop off at Heiran’s,” Yeonjun replied, in that warm, raspy tone that was a constant, no matter how early into the day it was. A lasting side effect of nicotine, Soobin assumed when they first met, only to be stumped by the sheer volume of Yeonjun’s caffeine intake. Though lately, he seemed to favour tea. Paper cup in hand, Yeonjun glanced between them. “What are you guys up to?”

Soobin didn’t turn around. 

He knew what sight would greet him; it was, frankly put, irritating how Yeonjun could make hospital scrubs look good, hands shoved nonchalantly into the pockets of his white overcoat, posture at ease, like he wasn’t tired after a full shift. If, against all odds, Soobin was willing to spend money on anything other than a new video game or anime merch, he’d bet half of his day’s paycheck that there was a smile on Yeonjun’s lips, the one he always wore around him; coy and soft at the same time, making already sharp eyes feel keener. 

It was bad enough that Soobin spaced out while staring at a scalpel earlier, reminded of their crescent-like curve. He didn’t need that kind of trouble again. So, before Kai could embarrass him, he answered, “I’m looking for a treatment plan. It should be somewhere around here but I can’t seem to find it.” 

“For the coffee uncle from earlier?”

Humming in confirmation – news sure spread fast – his hands fluttered around the desk as Yeonjun crouched near him, placing his tea aside and dropping his shoulder bag onto the floor.

“Is it this one?”

Soobin blinked down at the sheet of paper between Yeonjun’s fingers. He was certain it was mocking him. “It…” It was. Why was it under the desk? “Yeah, that’s it.”

Of course Yeonjun would come to his rescue.

Gingerly accepting the draft, Soobin cursed the blond’s charm in his head – did the universe bend to this guy’s will, or what? There was nothing imperfect about him, unless someone was pedantic enough to count the growing in, black roots visible in Yeonjun’s hair only from above. Even that had its own kind of charm.

Relieved by the sight of the treatment plan, however, and the prospect of going home without fretting about it, Soobin smiled, gentle but genuine. “Thank you.”

He smelled it before he saw it: one of the reasons he so subtly avoided Yeonjun.

Or, at least, made half-hearted attempts to.

The memory of Taehyun laughing in his face when he asked about it – raucous enough to bare matching, sharp fangs – was equally as staggering as the scent. He’d learned fast that to vampire senses, everyone smelled, mostly, the same. Hidden beneath the wide expanse of skin, it wasn’t hard to train disinterest in the fluctuations of blood unless they were pertinent to a health concern, or, in many cases around the hospital, if it was flowing freely from a wound. With his line of work, Soobin considered himself painfully desensitised. Same as humans resisted their need for sustenance until they could get it, he’d never had the urge to sink his teeth into any of the patients.

Which made being around Yeonjun all the more embarrassing.

It never mattered how well fed he was, how walking past anyone else spurred no interest or hunger. If picking up the scent of others felt like leaning in to sniff at stale bread – on a blocked nose – then being around Yeonjun was the equivalent of stepping into a bakery during morning hours, rich, warm, with bread, pies and pastries all fresh out of the oven.  

Saliva pooled on Soobin’s tongue as he watched a faint blush rise in Yeonjun’s ears, trailing down the back of his neck to disappear behind his collar.

He swallowed at the same time Yeonjun blinked.

Standing abruptly, Yeonjun’s elbow smacked against the edge of the desk.

It sounded like it hurt. 

Soobin winced, both at the crack and the stack of papers that went flying from Yeonjun’s sudden movement, a flurry of white descending to cover the floor – luckily plain, with nothing printed on any of the sheets. He watched it, as if in slow motion. It would’ve been kinder to reach out and prevent the small-scale disaster; certainly, his reflexes would have allowed it. Except, inhumanly fast speed would be a little hard to explain, and Soobin had no desire to reveal his vampiric nature to his best friend of many years – the same one who stumbled back, shielding his tupperware of cookies in shock – through a shitty high school romance cliché.

He knew Kai’s sisters forced him to watch Twilight, and he did not want to be compared to Edward or have apples thrown at him to catch in cupped hands. 

Knowing Kai’s penchant for teasing and poor jokes, Soobin had no doubt that the blond would pull a stunt of that caliber, joking that an apple a day-

“Shit, sorry,” Yeonjun hissed, crouching back down to gather the paper.

Though many conspiracy Reddit forums – namely r/vampiresarereal – would argue otherwise, Soobin wasn’t evil. He squatted to pick up the paper too, pushing it all into one pile so it’d be easier to lift. Entirely on accident, distracted by the scent and stupid odds of their predicament, his fingers brushed over Yeonjun’s.

He should’ve known there was no point resisting.

Yeonjun was a man who reveled in clichés, if those pickup lines of his were any proof. Of course the universe would gift him every opportunity to live out overrated tropes. 

Doused with another wave of rich, mouth-watering scent, and not given a moment to process the touch, Soobin blinked stupidly, lagging behind – not on purpose this time – while the paper disappeared from his line of sight, held in Yeonjun’s arms. The blond shot up again, safely replacing the stack on the desk. 

Yeonjun’s embarrassment, Soobin thought, was as amusing as it was damning. 

He stood too, a hint faster than he typically allowed himself to, the private admission souring any sweet aftertaste in the air. It was a hard truth to face: that, perhaps, more than Yeonjun’s pity flirting, Soobin felt a twist in his stomach at how indisputably attracted he was to the man, scent aside. Though, his vampiric nature certainly made romantic feelings harder to ignore. 

“You okay, Kai?” Yeonjun asked, cheeks puffed as he tried not to laugh at Kai’s protective hold on the tupperware. “No deadly papercuts?”

Behind his back, Soobin’s lip twitched up.

It faded fast the moment his friend caught a whiff of it.

“Oh, I’m not sure Doc,” Kai sighed, shaking his head. “That may have been too much to handle.”

Smoothing out his coat and disposing of his empty tea cup by the watercooler, Yeonjun nodded. “If your mind was troubled by my clumsiness, I’ll do my best to soothe it.”

“My heart may be at risk too,” Kai warned, the shit-eating grin not visible on his face but blazing unforgivingly in his eyes. “I think this’ll require some teamwork.”

Soobin narrowed his gaze. “Will eating those cookies require teamwork too?”

That, thankfully, tore a laugh from Kai as he bit into another one. “No, no, I think I can manage.” Waving the tupperware in Yeonjun’s direction, he asked, “Would you like one?”

“Are you sure?” 

Yeonjun only let the question hang between them for a moment – another tempting shake of the goods. He didn’t wait for Kai to finish chewing as he reached for one. “Where’d you get these?”

It was unfortunate that Kai exhibited a rare, perfect display of manners by swallowing, then talking, if only so his words would be clear. “Soobin made them! He’s really good at baking and he always lets me try what he’s made.”

Could he sound any more scripted?

“Oh, really?” Glancing over, Yeonjun bit into the cookie, chewing with care. His lips pursed as he did, a stray crumb stuck to them, expression nigh-cartoonish as he reeled back in surprise, then chewed faster. “This is so good.”

An exaggeration, surely.

They would’ve been better fresh.

“Right?” Kai gushed, winking at Soobin.

It was a good thing Soobin couldn’t kill anyone just by looking at them. 

“I’m more of a spicy food guy,” Yeonjun ventured, blissfully unaware, inspecting the half-melted chocolate chips, “But these might convince me otherwise.”

Grinning from ear to ear behind the hand he used to cover his mouth, Kai nodded. “The red makes them look like they could be spicy.”

“It does!”

“What would spicy cookies even taste like?”

“Really good, I bet.”

The two of them chewed happily. 

Soobin stared, befuddled.

Since when were they so buddy buddy?

Yeonjun’s gaze landed on him but darted away. Was he embarrassed about knocking over the paper? “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” the blond said, refraining from another bite as he leaned down to grab his bag, “It’s only natural for a sweet guy like you to be skilled at making sweet things.”

There it was.

Flitting through several emotions, Soobin didn’t know which one to settle on. 

As his brows drew downwards in disbelief, lips curling into a smile, his muttered thank you was drowned out by Kai’s dolphin-like laugh, and Yeonjun’s own quiet chuckle. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, ready to flee the scene of such a heinous flirt-crime, Yeonjun gave them a wave. “I should get going now, but thanks for the cookie. It really is good.” He held it closer to his chest. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

“See you!” Kai chirped, snapping the lid on his tupperware shut.

Soobin echoed something to the same effect, unbalanced still. It didn’t matter how many times Yeonjun swung by their department, nor how often his compliments floated Soobin’s way – there was no antidote, it seemed, for the lump in his throat, or the blush that stung his ears, well-fed on blood as he unfortunately was.

“It’s like you manifested him,” Kai joked, as soon as Yeonjun disappeared.

Manifested would imply a willingness to subject himself to torture. Soobin rolled his eyes. “More like summoned him. He’s got some sixth sense for people talking about him, I swear.”

At least his payment for it was the previously-lost treatment plan. Stuffed inside his backpack – which Yeonjun definitely hadn’t called cute when he first saw it – he’d hand it in tomorrow to be passed onto the uncle, whom he was sure would still find his way back to the ward. Same as Yeonjun. 

“You know…” Suggestions out of Kai’s mouth in that tone never boded well. “If you’re so good at that, how about you summon the courage to ask him to Beomgyu’s party?”

Soobin groaned.

Just as he thought.

“He’s going anyway.” That bit of news kickstarted their whole debate about Yeonjun’s flirting in the first place. Who could’ve guessed that Beomgyu and Yeonjun were, apparently, best friends? “And it sounds to me like you’ve been spending too much time around him. You’re starting to pick up the bad jokes.”

“I got that from you too,” Kai defended, swinging his Pokemon bag onto his shoulder – one he insisted made the kids in pediatrics more at ease during their treatments. 

It was a convenient truth. Soobin didn’t believe for one second that working beside him in cardiology would change Kai’s style. “I doubt it,” he said.

Ominous as ever, walking out of the ward with his hands laced behind his back like a wise old wizard, Kai mused, “You’re complete opposites, I can agree on that. But you’re weirdly similar in a lot of ways. I’m sure if you took the time to understand each other better, you’d get along.”

The Pokemon backpack really ruined the effect.

And Kai’s tone, slowed, low, honey sweet and patient, sounded almost like- Soobin snorted. “Okay, Himmel. You finished watching season one over the weekend?”

“Yes, but that’s not- I was trying to give you good advice,” Kai whined. He batted Soobin’s hands away from ruffling his hair, threatening to unleash an army of children on him come morning. 

Unfazed, Soobin laughed. “As if you’re not a child too.”

Kai huffed. “It’s not the same.”

Shrugging as he stepped out into the fresh, scent-less night air, Soobin teased, “If you swapped bodies with one of them, I’m not sure I could tell the difference.”

THURSDAY

When Soobin woke, his senses were dulled. All of them, but one: the overwhelming feeling that something was tremendously wrong.

What time was it?

If he overslept for work, which he suspected his half-asleep mind was warning him of, then he’d never hear the end of it. Reaching left, face shoved into his pillow to guard against the light, he flapped his arm around to grab his phone. It seemed far away. Weird. Only as he grew more frustrated, wakefulness seeping in, did he realise: his body felt even weirder.

He was graceless for a vampire, true, but this was different.

Cracking an eye open, Soobin thought he had to be hallucinating. Thick, striped sheets came into view. Not his own. Huh? Once upon a time, he might’ve blamed it on being drunk and crashing over at a friend’s place. Except, it was the middle of the week, and it’d been years since he could get drunk. Confused, Soobin propped himself up on his arms, hissing as a dull ache stabbed through his elbow. Glancing down, he found a splotchy, purple streak painted across the joint. He froze. Tone-wise it wasn’t so different, but the skin he was looking at couldn’t be his own.

Vampires didn’t bruise. 

Soobin blinked, owlish and slow, then jolted up. 

He stretched his arms out in front of him – not his own – then twisted his head around at faster speeds than his brain could keep up with to look at the bedroom. It wasn’t one he recognised. His temples pulsed. There was a collection of vinyls displayed on shelves across from the bed, a rack of clothing – so much of it red – heaps of clothes, actually, and… was that a mini fridge? Baffled, Soobin glanced behind him and found a handful of photo strips lined up near the wall.

His eyes caught on a specific one.

Yeonjun and Beomgyu. 

He recognised Taehyun’s boyfriend from photos, and wouldn’t mistake Yeonjun even in blurry black and white form. Was he in Beomgyu’s room, somehow? No, that couldn’t be right. Deep down, Soobin had a hunch whose room it was, if not from the other photos, then from the clothes. 

If that wasn’t bad enough, there was another, far bigger problem to face.

He stared at the bruise again. It was worse than he thought it’d be when he watched Yeonjun bump into the desk. Taking a deep breath, Soobin closed his eyes. He’d gotten used to having enhanced senses and could tell they were gone now – his vision felt lacklustre, he couldn’t pick up any distinct scents, and his hearing was so faint, it felt like he’d turned down the volume on his headphones without actively thinking about it. 

He took another deep breath.

It was harder than he recalled. Countless times, he’d instructed his patients to do the same to stave off a panic attack, but never did he think he’d find himself at risk of one again. Except, it was very much possible with lungs that required air. When the worst of his initial dread retreated, it was scarily easy to accept the truth.

Somehow, he was in Yeonjun’s body.

Not in the way he’d prefer.

Violently, Soobin shook his head, appalled that the thought ever came to mind. There was no time for that. He’d accepted the reality for what it was at a rather vampiric speed, so at least some of his actual self was still intact. Tiredly, he thought Kai would get a kick out of the whole thing – he hadn’t known there were so many dramas with that exact premise until Kai logged into his sister’s streaming accounts. The only one he knew involved preventing death from a natural disaster, for crying out loud. But that was the crux of it, right?

He and Yeonjun must’ve swapped bodies.

Deliriously, or rather soberly in fact, Soobin thought: so this is what it’s like for Cheng Xiaoshi, huh? If he were honest, waking up to being fluent in Mandarin would confuse, or even scare, him far less than being Yeonjun.

What was the best approach, in a situation that, though rather popular in media, was a unique fucking experience? What logic was there to follow?

Then, the most humbling question of all: what would Taehyun do?

That’d probably be the best route to follow. Soobin would call the situation unbelievable, if only his primary source of sustenance wasn’t chilled blood bags. Was there a forum for this sort of thing? Perhaps reddit – rife with vitriol against his kind and fascinating opinions that Soobin wouldn’t be caught dead with in his search history – would actually prove useful for once? Maybe quora?

Putting that on a back burner, he reached for his- no, Yeonjun’s phone.

He thanked the stars he’d learned his own number by heart to spite Taehyun one time. Fast as was possible in his newly human form, Soobin unlocked the screen. With a quick detour to the camera confirming that, yes, he was Yeonjun, and yes, the man looked just as insufferably good as always after waking up, Soobin opened the contacts keyboard to type in his number.

To his profound shock, it was already saved.

Two thoughts warred in his mind: the first, rational one, being that he’d never given Yeonjun his phone number, which meant the blond must’ve gotten it from someone else. Kai, maybe? The second thought was less coherent as he stared at the Soobinnie, loml <3 glaring back at him.

Maybe he wasn’t Yeonjun after all.

Maybe he’d been isekai’d into an entirely different dimension altogether.

No matter. If anything in this dimension was remotely similar, as Soobin suddenly feared, then that meant there was a high chance Yeonjun was in his body – again, unfavourably – and had discovered not only that his coworker was a vampire, but also what it felt like to live with that mutation of nature firsthand. 

Soobin could barely focus on what it felt like to be human again: the warmth of it like sitting in a hot bath, lethargic, slowed, everything around him in less contrast as if misted over. There was no time to relax.

He didn’t think about it any longer, pressing call. 

Before he rushed over to his own flat, he needed to make sure Yeonjun stayed there.

ـﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـ

Yeonjun fought to control his speed as he paced in front of the door.

This was insane. Had the universe finally taken pity on him in some strange, roundabout way? The verdict on that one was still out. Like a mantra, or the meditation Taehyun tried to get him into once, he repeated everything that had – as of very recent – become a hardened truth.  

He was in Soobin’s body. 

Not in the way he’d prefer, he mused, then almost crashed headfirst into the wall as he misjudged his speed and took a step that propelled him too far. The slight added height was staggering in its own right.

It led him straight to the second point. 

Soobin was a vampire.

The neurologist part of Yeonjun was insurmountably thrilled by it. After being woken by a frantic phone call, nodding along to what was said without much thought only to spring awake once Soobin hung up, Yeonjun fought valiantly not to geek out. He’d watched movies like this! Better yet, same as any scientist, he considered collecting primary data to be a blessing, an instructive and illuminating experience into a state of being that he never dreamed possible. 

How the fuck was it possible?

Were consciousness and minds separate after all? Or was his own brain inside Soobin’s skull? Without a transplant, if so, the likes of which shouldn’t be possible either.

Out of everything, Yeonjun was most surprised to find that he had no real lust for blood. 

He could smell it, of course, all senses as if in high resolution, sharpened contrast in a photo, the scents themself like a whiff of perfume on the wind from a passerby. Nice, but not particularly titillating. He supposed it was a good thing, though it left room for him to ponder other matters.

Such as: how did any of this happen?

Could it be reversed?

Were other mythical beings real too?

A few questions, at least, would be answered with Soobin’s nearing arrival. Hopefully the brunet wouldn’t be able to tell that Yeonjun snooped around to keep his mind occupied – to release the sudden buzz of energy, like a shot of adrenaline straight to the veins. Though, as soon as any relief over not being alone appeared, his shoulders hiked up to his ears in nervousness. Was that his own reaction, or a habit for Soobin’s body?

There was no telling how he’d react when Soobin knocked on the door.

If his lack of… urge was any indicator, Yeonjun hoped that their reunion would go smoothly. No accidental biting or massacre involved. After all, if he killed his own body while possessing Soobin’s, wouldn’t he be stuck as the brunet for the rest of his life? How long was Soobin’s lifespan, anyway? Was he dead? Born this way, or turned? Would Yeonjun die, reversing the body swap, if he sank his teeth into his own neck?

The speed at which each new idea appeared was frightening.

Worse, most of them were morbid, and Yeonjun didn’t try to entertain them despite any hidden scientific value. He didn’t want Soobin to die. He didn’t want himself to die. Simple.

But how long had Soobin been like this?

It must’ve been his lucky day, because just as fast as the intrigue appeared, a hurried knock came at the door. Ah, Yeonjun thought, the moment of truth.

To be or not to be. He braced himself, holding the door at a distance and praying it wasn’t some poor delivery guy before he swung it open. It was difficult to parse which was weirder: seeing his own face stood across from him, frowning with an umbrella in hand, or having little to no control over the way his body reacted, lurching forwards.

The smell was divine. 

Rich and salty, like Yeonjun’s favourite ramen, warm, so warm, tugging him closer, urging him to take a bite. His jaw hung open but Soobin must’ve expected it. Scent rudely clogged by rainfall, Yeonjun blinked. His other senses flooded back in. Treated as if he were a dog catching a stick, there was an umbrella shoved into his mouth. Soobin’s. Or rather, his own, but-

There were so many layers of confusion, Yeonjun didn’t know which to pick apart first.

The neighbours hadn’t elicited this type of reaction. Making sure he was still able to smell their blood, Yeonjun frowned, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he pulled away from the umbrella. With a little conscious effort, he reeled back into the hallway, taking shallow breaths. It was fine. Great, even. The smell was pleasant, but he could resist it. Unused as he was to bloodlust, it was likely the proximity had done him in.

That made sense, right?

He filed the hypothesis away for later. Freshly refocused, he could hear the gentle patter of rain outside. How lost in his mind had he been?

Umbrella outstretched like a weapon – as if he’d turned into that golden haired, grey-jacketed action figure in his room, Yeonjun observed with a hint of humour, since his own blond hair fit the bill – Soobin stood his ground, panting heavily like he’d been running. Had he? Amid all the pacing, Yeonjun could barely tell how much time passed.

His nose scrunched as another whiff of the alluring scent floated his way. Was a window open in the hallway? It seemed so, a low, dull whistle of air filling the quiet. Maybe he should’ve asked to close the door. For peace of mind, certainly, but he also imagined Soobin wouldn’t want to explain what was happening to his neighbours if they chanced upon the scene.

Approaching with a healthy degree of caution, the features on the face opposite him twisted into an expression Yeonjun recognised as bargaining. The one upside, he mused. Perhaps he couldn’t read Soobin, but he could read himself like an open book.

Soobin stepped inside, closing the door.

“I can explain,” he promised.

Yeonjun hoped he’d get more than against all laws of nature known to mankind, I’m a very sexy vampire, since that was a fact he’d locked in on approximately two minutes after waking up with sharpened senses like Bella in Twilight: an experience as mindblowing as the movies made it out to be. He’d practically teleported to the nearest mirror, his body knowing on instinct where it was, before he realised that he wasn’t in his room, and more crucially, that he was Soobin.

An incredibly pleasant dream, if only he’d woken up from it.

“Explain…” He repeated, marveling at the gravelly quality of Soobin’s morning voice. In case Soobin could read his own face with equal ease, Yeonjun needed to cut any dangerous thoughts short. Resorting to his ultimate, polished and shined weapon – lame humour – he asked, “You’ll explain why I just had the biggest urge to bite you?”

Intrigued by the holy-fuck-vampires-exist aspect of it all, scientific discovery took precedence over any body swap mess. The logistics could come later.

Soobin looked pained. “Wouldn’t that border on some kind of cannibalism? You’d be drinking your own blood.”

“And here I thought wanting a taste was just my usual reaction to seeing you,” Yeonjun replied, because the joke was right there, and who cared if there was some truth to it? Seeing the rising blush on his own face, he gracefully reevaluated. Could vampires blush too? Reaching up to touch his ears, finding them warm, Yeonjun confirmed he could. Huh. Did Soobin have blood in his veins, or was it only there after he fed?

Which-

If the brunet did feed recently – as much as Yeonjun didn’t want to entertain the thought of Soobin with his teeth in someone else’s neck – then why had his body reacted so strongly to Yeonjun’s scent?

There was a lot for Soobin to explain.

Likely thinking the same, Soobin sighed, rife with embarrassment. “I think we’re both gonna want to sit down for this.”

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In Soobin’s very short-lived experience, being body-swapped was a painfully quick way to get close with someone. In every sense of the word. He hadn’t let himself dream of a reality where he’d be showering with Yeonjun, the fantasy too far fetched even for his loser self, let alone did he have the creativity to conjure up showering as Yeonjun.

And yet. 

Freshly showered, he’d slipped into his own clothes, which was a small, familiar comfort amid all else. Resolute in his conviction not to glance down – he hadn’t, careful to respect Yeonjun’s privacy –  Soobin made the shower a perfunctory affair, a way to prevent the very human body he inhabited from catching a cold after running through the rain. If only his mind got the memo. Being single and overworked with a desire for his charming, blond coworker didn’t do him any favours, and there was no friend he could ask for advice.

Well, maybe…

He stored that thought away for later, because his aforementioned blond coworker decided, rather abruptly, that he wasn’t going to be blond anymore. A genius idea, really. 

“You know, as much as this is the weirdest day of my life,” Yeonjun began, idly, mixing the dye in a way that suggested he was a seasoned professional, “Dyeing my own hair without needing to twist in front of a mirror or use my phone to check if I missed a spot is kind of a blessing.”

All in all, Yeonjun was taking this a lot better than Soobin could’ve hoped for.

“It’ll disrupt your sense of smell too,” he pointed out. At least, that was the reason he heard before being shoved out of his own flat with a mission to buy a very specific salon-grade red dye. Who knew there were so many brands?

Worst yet, he felt as if he was about to have surgery performed on him as Yeonjun snapped latex gloves against his wrists.

It’s for a good cause, he told himself. If the dye overpowered the compelling scent of Yeonjun’s blood, perhaps Yeonjun would chalk up that weirdly strong reaction at the door to a new instinct. Loath as he was to admit it, Soobin didn’t want his fangs in Yeonjun’s neck when he wouldn’t even be able to-

Seating Soobin on the floor, Yeonjun raked a hand through blond strands. “I was planning to dye it darker anyway since my roots were showing.”

It wasn’t much to him, surely – just sectioning off which parts went where, and, judging by the long pause, there had to be some science behind it – but Soobin felt his ears heat again. 

Was the bathroom always this stuffy? 

It had to be. Kai was always this tactile too. There was no metric for how familiarly one should treat their own body when a different conscious was possessing it. It was Yeonjun’s hair. Still, the blond acted at home, as if they’d been hanging out like this for months, and been the closest of friends for even longer. Soobin felt at a loss. Was there a part of his memories missing? Had the Knights Moralis done their thing and punished him for unknown body-related magic? Taehyun seemed like he could conjure a winged cap out of thin air. Though, maybe this was Yeonjun’s own method of coping: letting the mundane settle his nerves, acclimating to a bigger problem by pretending there was none. Soobin could almost get lost in that idea too.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Yeonjun’s hands in his hair. 

Would he ever get to have this again?

Like it or not, they were in this together, and Soobin knew that going back to polite greetings or smiles in separate hallways afterwards would be impossible. He was almost glad for it when the prickly stench of dye stung his nose, forcing his eyes open and waving away any melancholy, then genuinely glad when he remembered his senses were no longer so heightened.

“God, that stinks,” Yeonjun choked out, lifting one hand – presumably to cover his face. Soobin couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror from the floor. “I was only joking when I offered this, but I think it’ll actually work.”

“Are you even allowed to have red hair?” Soobin piped up, in a moment of brief lucidity – likely originating from the half of his brain no longer covered by Yeonjun’s hand. 

They’d called out for the day, both claiming some sickness was going around in the hopes that whatever curse was cast on them would wear off within twenty four hours – an accident that made for a funny story, no more. Though, they couldn’t be certain it would wear off so quick, and suddenly the prospect of walking into the neurology department with Yeonjun’s name tag and blazing red hair was becoming more real by the minute.

“I asked management about it last week and they said it was fine. There’s a lot of kids around our wing and they’ll probably like it.” From the way his hand lifted, Yeonjun must’ve shrugged. “Either way, I wanted to dye it for the party.”

Soobin swallowed. “Beomgyu’s?”

“Who else’s?”

Hearing Yeonjun laugh in his voice was strange. 

Not raspy enough. 

He spoke again before Soobin could think of a reply, “I heard he invited a bunch of Taehyun’s friends, which means you’re going too, right?”

“I promised I would.”

Lathering on the first swathe of dye, Yeonjun hummed, guiding Soobin’s head to tilt in the right direction, skin warm through the latex. He answered, “That’s good.”

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“Woah,” Yeonjun mumbled, poking the skin under his eyes. It was pale - as Soobin’s complexion always was - though considerably paler than usual. A faint pink tinge emerged along the lash line, branching over his cheeks in streaks like lightning. The pattern resembled yet-to-fade scratch marks, veins visible in a way that was every medical staff’s dream. “What’s this?”

The question, Yeonjun thought, was one of the tamer ones he’d asked.

Soobin may have been able to hide it in his own body, but Yeonjun knew what being flustered looked like on his own face. Out of equal, if not rivaling, nerves, he’d used the lack of eye contact as a gateway to ask every sort-of-safe scientific or cliché question that came to mind. There were, fortunately, a lot of them. It was a good thing he’d learned Soobin couldn’t burn, because he might’ve asked half of what there was to know under the sun about vampirism. What else was there to do? 

It was fascinating.

And Soobin was even more so. When the initial line of unintrusive inquiry ran dry, Yeonjun filled the silence with trivia about his ever-elusive coworker. It was easier when he couldn’t see his own face, nor Soobin’s, and could pretend they were just hanging out, getting to know each other. The whole ordeal was like a crush- crash course in becoming acquainted, the kind of quick study that Yeonjun subjected himself to the night before exams in middle school.

So far, he’d taken mental notes. Things he’d already known: likes anime, is a gamer. Then: has two older siblings, lives alone because his former flatmate bailed on him, bakes really well but can’t cook to save his life-

The list went on so far that Yeonjun wondered whether vampires possessed enriched memory alongside senses, or if he’d just been that desperate to learn any details about Soobin that weren’t scraps tossed to him by other coworkers or accidentally overheard jokes from Kai. With only a hint of shame, he could admit to himself that it might’ve been the latter.

This, though, was entirely warranted to be curious about.

Drying his hair with a towel – one that had seen better days and wouldn’t be ruined by red dye – Soobin stuttered, hand dropping to scratch the back of his neck. “Ah. That’s- Uh, I… ate recently, but I guess the change in bodies means you haven’t…”

So this was what Soobin looked like while hungry?

Yeonjun had asked how often vampires needed to feed, balking at the notion of only about once every two weeks, but he hadn’t thought to ask about what that hunger looked like. Silly him. Staring into the mirror, he wished the myth about reflections not appearing was true.

It was unfair: how hot Soobin was when bloodthirsty.

With such visible veins, Yeonjun hoped his dear coworker, or rather tentative friend, wouldn’t see how close he was to popping a blood vessel. He could, thankfully, pass off any intense staring as medical interest, even when science was the furthest thing from his mind. Soobin’s silky hair was equally as lovely as his eyes, an inky black that contrasted against his skin and the dark fabric of his shirt. Yeonjun could write an entire research paper on that alone.

Catching Soobin’s gaze in the mirror – still strange, since it was technically his own – the rest of the brunet’s words caught up to him. 

“You… ate?” He heard an echo of Beomgyu’s voice turning that question into an unfunny joke about Soobin’s appearance. It made him wince, then rephrase, “I mean- I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to pry, but- Do you have people you usually feed from? Am I… gonna have to bite myself…?”

It was already intriguing that his human hunger carried into a new body. Yeonjun made a mental note of it. Would he have to feed as rarely as Soobin, or as often as his human self? He didn’t know which was more compelling: experiencing firsthand what it felt like to bite someone and quench his thirst, a barely prickling dryness in the back of his throat, or being on the other end, breath catching as Soobin’s fangs sank into his neck, lips hot against skin, hands pulling him closer and-

Maybe he didn’t care about science as much as he thought.

If the scent he’d caught in the doorway was enough to hypothesise off of, he relished the idea that biting him might overwhelm Soobin just as much as it would him. He knew, logically, why Soobin would never ask to do it, but…

Would that change, now that he knew?

Yeonjun wasn’t ashamed to confess he’d want it to.

That was, unless Soobin already had someone he regularly fed from. A blood-donating buddy. A benevolent benefactor. A canine-happy, catering comrade or- consort. Apart from Taehyun, Kai, and a handful of other colleagues, Yeonjun didn’t know who Soobin was friends with. Was it stepping out of line, suggesting that he – in Soobin’s body – could feed from himself? The notion of there being someone else who the brunet might prefer sat sour on his tongue. 

Did anyone else smell as good as he did?

“No!” Soobin held up both hands, tone painfully insistent. “You don’t- I don’t have anyone like that. There’s blood bags in the freezer.” He blinked, panic ebbing away, turning into a wince. “I know it’s not appealing, but if you’re open to it, drinking one of those might be safer for both of us.”

If we don’t switch back within a day went unspoken. 

Yeonjun refrained from making a joke about being open minded. He ignored, also, how much he wished to get a scan that would tell him exactly what Soobin was thinking, because with the appealing option out of the way, his scientific interest flared anew. 

He nodded, aiming for nonchalant. “I’m down.” 

Not waiting for an answer, he stepped out into the hallway, lamenting the loss of a mirror and the soon-to-be loss of… thirst. At least being a vampire made the mourning pass faster; same as seeing the bathroom smeared in red, reminiscent of a crime scene. Yeonjun cringed. Part of him regretted not insisting to wash the dye out of Soobin’s hair, but there were lines to intimacy and they’d crossed so many of them in a singular day that he was cautious of blurring any that remained. 

As if tethered, Soobin followed him. Yeonjun watched, itching while his red-haired not-self pulled a blood bag from the freezer, lifting the cap on the break-away valve to pour its contents into a rocks glass. A unique kind of cocktail. When Soobin’s hand hesitated near the ice, Yeonjun choked on a laugh.

“Are you trying to make it more appetising?”

“Maybe? I thought- Since you used to drink iced-” Awkwardly, the brunet’s jaw snapped shut, but Yeonjun knew what he’d been meaning to say. Iced Americanos. There was a time when he’d rarely be seen without a cup. 

….Soobin noticed that? 

The cup didn’t match, and ice in blood sounded like a nightmare, but the fumbling consideration made Yeonjun smile wider than he had all day. “I’ll pass on the ice,” he offered, eyeing the glass with morbid interest, “Do you find it appetising, usually?”

“No, not really.” Taking the chance to breeze past his blunder, Soobin ambled over to where Yeonjun had seated himself by the kitchen island, placing the goods in front of him. “Did you ever have energy drinks to stay awake while studying?”

“A few,” Yeonjun admitted, “Though I always liked coffee better.”

“It’s pretty much the same.” Arms crossed over his chest, Soobin half-gestured to the glass. “Just a source of fuel to keep you alert and provide energy.”

“Is that a quote from the famed coffee uncle of the cardiology ward?”

Soobin groaned. “With the amount of times he’s been admitted for heart issues, I can safely say he’s not a vampire. Sometimes, I wish he was.”

“He’s just excitable.” Picking up the glass, Yeonjun swirled its contents, watching red stain and cling to the transparent surface, leaving a trace behind. 

“You like the coffee uncle?” Soobin asked incredulously. 

Yeonjun shrugged. “We’ve got a lot in common.” 

He hid a faint smile behind the glass as he raised it up to sniff – metallic, as expected, and a little salty. Not rich in much of the latter though, closer in scent to horridly underseasoned pho. 

“You don’t even know his name,” Soobin argued.

Yeonjun knew that colour of his own voice – the brunet was trying not to crack a smile. It made his own grin widen. “I know he’s a fellow connoisseur.”

“Well, in that case-” Leaning against the counter, Soobin arched his brows – a clear challenge. “-I’ll let a connoisseur put my judgement to the test. This specific brew is gonna taste like someone stirred salt into it, realised their mistake, then added a spoonful of sugar to compensate. I doubt even the coffee uncle would drink that.”

Stingy, Yeonjun thought.

If it didn’t go against any confidentiality concern, he’d learn the name of the coffee uncle one day. Pressing the glass against his lips, he took a steady breath. It was clear he’d done a poor job of hiding how much he wanted to try drinking blood in this state, and Soobin must’ve recognised the eagerness on his own features – was kind enough not to call him out on it. 

In the same way, Yeonjun hadn’t asked where Soobin got his regular supply, though it was equally obvious. The least conspicuous, and probably most ethical, method for stocking blood was to work at a hospital. Suddenly, Yeonjun felt enlightened about all the praise he heard for Soobin’s swift response time in regards to patients with cardiovascular- blood-related problems. 

Huh.

If he thought Soobin could be trusted with his heart before they were forced into the world’s wildest bonding speedrun, then at least he knew now that, physically-speaking, there was nobody better suited for the task. 

That same part of him was senselessly pleased about Soobin not having a regular friend to feed from. So much, in fact, that he was willing to bypass any line of interrogation about how his esteemed coworker came to possess a freezer-full of blood donations. Where morals were usually forefront in his mind, so much new information had been thrust like an iron rod through his skull that Yeonjun simply had to rely on the wonders of neuroplasticity to guide him if need be.  

No longer stalling, he took a sip.

It was strangely heavy.

Not too thick.

Overall… not bad.

Like a soda that lost its fizz, or murky caffeine diluted by melted ice – the kind of thing he’d drink for the sole purpose of not letting it go to waste. It soothed the itch in his throat nonetheless, and settled warm in his stomach like a sip of alcohol. Could vampires get drunk on blood? He’d have to ask Soobin sometime.

It was exactly as the brunet described – all iron, a little salty, a little sweet. Being a vampire, as it turned out, didn’t change much in terms of what blood tasted like, and Yeonjun busted his lip enough in dance classes to know that specific tang. Though, the more he savored it, the more it reminded him of reheated soup – bland, unspiced, not fit to his preference, but filling and comforting. His shoulders dropped, soothed by it. 

An acquired taste, he figured. 

Across from him, Soobin stared. Though nerve-wracking, it had to be thrilling to share a glimpse into what his unusual habits were like: a once-in-a-lifetime version of sitting down with a friend to watch a series he knew back to front.

And, even when the insistent gaze didn’t strike Yeonjun – his own features were hard to get flustered by, despite knowing what soul they hid – the full sight was a different story. Oversized, the collar of Soobin’s shirt slipped down his shoulder, and Yeonjun gulped audibly as his brain caught up. He was seeing himself in Soobin’s spare clothes.

Granted, it wasn’t him, but it was his body.

He’d been vaguely aware, honed in on other tasks before that small detail could be registered, and clearly, it’d been lost to the ether thereafter. Until now. Would Soobin have given him something to change into if he’d been caught in a downpour too? Yeonjun was, by all means, wearing a part of the brunet’s wardrobe, but it didn’t feel half as special when he was Soobin.

He tried not to let any humiliating noise flee his lips over something so plain.

Hours into finally growing closer with the guy he’d been interested in from afar, this couldn’t be what did him in. Swallowing past the dryness in his throat, Yeonjun took one more sip, then muttered, “I think you’re wrong.”

Soobin blinked; adorably, which felt like an odd observation to make in their predicament. “What?”

As if to toast, Yeonjun lifted the glass. “Coffee uncle would chug this in a heartbeat.”

He sensed Soobin’s incoming sigh before he heard it, laughing under his breath at the defeated slump in his companion’s posture. If he weren’t dead-set on draining the blood to its last drop, he might’ve mirrored it. Tipping his head back, Yeonjun let his tongue swipe over the glass. 

In comparison to the bagged blood, his own veins were a lure – like the finest of comfort meals to Soobin’s senses, just beyond reach.

It seemed nothing could change that.

Even with the stench of dye clogging his nose, Yeonjun was helpless against saliva pooling on his tongue whenever Soobin drew too close; a tide pulled by the moon. There was an easy deduction to make. If their minds were their own, and their bodies weren’t, it meant he always elicited this kind of thirst. Always smelled like that to Soobin. 

Tempting.

Which begged the question: with how much obvious interest Yeonjun showed, why had Soobin never given in? No, that was obvious. He wouldn’t seek to reveal himself, nor was he an animal acting on instinct. They both worked in a hospital, ample with opportunity for loss of control. But would Soobin reject the idea of a bite if it was posed to him now? The brunet mentioned, offhand, that other vampires did feed directly from humans. So why…? Not prone to feeling overly insecure, Yeonjun rolled his shoulders, placing his glass on the counter with a clink. There’d be a reason: a clear-cut explanation for why Soobin would be able to resist wanting a taste if he offered to give it. For the first time since waking with his life turned upside down, Yeonjun felt truly unbalanced. 

Of course, he never flirted with the expectation that his budding feelings would be reciprocated, but it was fun when he could pretend that his effort wasn’t hopeless. Was it? He smiled weakly at Soobin.

Would the brunet be disgusted with him if he knew?

If Yeonjun told him that he craved it?

The genuine, kind smile he received did nothing to soothe that sudden, sharp stab of doubt. For the first time, Yeonjun didn’t let loose what sat on the tip of his tongue, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.