baekyeol; I'm ready for the fall (ready for the colors to burn to gold and crumble away) [1/6]

[aprilclash]

I'm ready for the fall (ready for the colors to burn to gold and crumble away)

Now there you go again
You say you want your freedom
Well who am I to keep you down
It's only right that you should play it the way you feel it
But listen carefully to the sound
Of your loneliness
Dreams - G. Aplin ft. Bastille

baekhyun

It’s cold outside. Not too cold for the end of October, but definitely freezing compared to the previous warm, almost spring-like days. Despite the sudden wave of winter that hit the city, enveloping the streets in his chilly hug, the streets, Baekhyun thinks, are still quite lively.

It’s Halloween, so it’s not too late for children to be still out. Across the street, overprotective moms are leading a flock of kids dressed as ghosts, cute pumpkins and lovely witches around the neighborhood. There’s a tiny skeleton - the fluorescent bones embroidered on the black tee and pants by a caring grandma or auntie - wrapped in a warm winter coat, his teenager sister pulling impatiently at his hands to urge him to move before the rest of the group disappears behind a corner. The little boy trips and falls. She fumes, impatiently tapping her feet to the ground. Baekhyun is there, kneeling in front of him and pulling him up to his feet before he can start to cry. Baekhyun’s ears, so delicate, so frail, so, like Jongdae would say, embarrassingly big, wouldn’t be able to stand a piercing wail so early into the night. The sister, fifteen, maybe even sixteen years old, blonde curly hair, a pink coat too bright and cheerful for the night of ghosts and witches, gapes at him, maybe noticing his heavily kohled eyes, elegant hands, the chiseled shape of his nose. She hardly notices the hint of cruel red in Baekhyun’s irises, or the Victorian complete he’s wearing, and if she does, she blames it on an unoriginal idea for a Halloween costume. A vampire, such a classic.

Baekhyun loves Halloween night with the burning passion of a little kid. He doesn’t know if it’s because he used to enjoy the holiday when he was still human, but in the last few years of his life, at least the last forty or fifty years of his long, long life, he’s learned to appreciate the benefits of going out in his own clothes without causing a ruckus. Also, like most children, he loves the idea of going around asking for juicy treats and planning dirty tricks.

He smiles and licks his lips, hungrily. The girl, trapped in a trance, follows the movements of his tongue, missing the way it curls around pointed canines. She could be gone like this, two sweet punctures in her neck and she’d wake up tomorrow morning slumped over a bench and feeling weak and disoriented. She would have no recollection of what happened the night before. Halloween is a crazy night, after all.

Baekhyun clicks his tongue and the spell is broken. “They will leave you behind if you don’t move,” he says, and puts the hand of the little kid dressed as a little skeleton in the hand of his astonished sister, ushering her away. She shakes her head, still confused, still defenseless, but Baekhyun has no intention to exploit her vulnerability. When she raises his eyes to look at Baekhyun again, he’s already vanished into the night, gone to find another victim.

You can coax the cold right out of me
Drape me in your warmth
The rapture in the dark puts me at ease
The blind eye of the storm
Let's go for a walk down Easy Street
Where you can be reborn
And kiss me on the mouth and set me free
But please, don't bite
BITE - T. Sivan

The night is young, but Baekhyun is not. He’s old and powerful and bored, and this is his only occasion to wear his pure silk Victorian shirt with lace ruffles and the cape, black and red velvet, and seduce a mortal. Being a vampire was cool when he could live in a castle and scare the masses with a flash of teeth, but now it’s the twenty-first century and no one is ever afraid of monsters anymore. Most humans find vampires oddly fascinating, instead. Approaching a possible prey has become easier, Baekhyun just needs to chat them a little over two drinks pretending to take little sips of alcohol he can’t enjoy, their sweetness like ash on his tongue. There is no rush in this kind of hunt, no challenge. It’s more like… a banquet.

The night is young and loud. There’s an exclusive party downtown, but Baekhyun won’t go there. Kids nowadays, especially rich kids, like to shot poison in their veins and he has never been a fan of drugs in his dinner. He follows the smell of blood and sweat to a little club near the suburbs instead, where the commercial zone morphs in the industrial district in a labyrinth of dusty, poor streets covered in advertisement posters and neon bright lights announcing tarot readings and 30% discount if you buy drinks after 11PM.

Less cheerful kids looking for candies here. In their place, Baekhyun sees a lot of young men and women patrolling the streets and looking for a possible client. A thin girl with long blonde hair, possibly paler than Baekhyun himself, whistles from the other side of the streets and tries to expose a chest that hunger has hollowed out. Baekhyun could suck her dry, make her one of his kin, give her a weapon to fight those who forced her to do this job. He sees no reason for doing it though and he wouldn’t risk the disapproval of both Jongdae and Kyungsoo - Sehun would probably be excited about it, though - but there’s still a sick satisfaction in knowing that he still has this kind of power over commoners like her. Back in the old times he was a demigod walking the earth. Now even prostitutes catcall him.

The sour thought is lost soon, when he spots his hunting field.

The borders of the city is where all the misfits, the outcast, the lost people, come to hang out. He can smell the uneasiness on them. College students tired of their lives; teenagers with fake IDs looking for a way to escape the golden cage of their parents’ worries; young women who married too soon and want to spend a nice evening with their friends and not think about the babies waiting for them at home; factory workers who waste all their monthly pay in a night of euphoria before going back to their grey lives.

One of the things he appreciates the most about modernity is that he doesn’t have to worry about choosing a girl or a boy for his dinner. Everything is allowed in this time, and his tongue clicks in pleasure when a young man wearing a skimpy stole, crooked plastic wings glued to his back and a laurel crown, tumbles around him to slip on the counter. Baekhyun can see the sweat pooling on his collarbones and making them glisten under the colored lights. He smells fatigue and adrenaline on him, a sweet attack on his senses frazzled by the cacophonic atmosphere of the club.

The boy looks cute and willing to have some fun. If Baekhyun plays his cards well, he’ll finally be able to get laid tonight. Maybe, if he’s good, this cute boy will even let Baekhyun bite him and lick the blood from his neck.

He warms his most charming smile, ready to make a quick attack, when a voice speaks right into his ear, low and seductive. For the first time in centuries, Baekhyun’s body shakes in surprise and he almost falls from the stool. Thick arms wrap around him to help him regain his balance. “Careful there, little devil,” muses a voice behind him, so low that he struggles to catch it over the loud music, even with his superhuman hearing.

“It’s vampire,” he answers, getting rid of the hold on his waist to turn on his assailant and savior. The hold is strong, but Baekhyun is stronger, and he spins on his seating until he’s face to face with an attractive Joker. Well, not exactly face to face, since the man is huge. Skinny, but so tall, and his laugh is velvety, with a deep timbre that pulls at Baekhyun’s self-control, warm and inviting like freshly spilled blood.

The stranger’s smile, so conceited and devastating, can only emphasize the sick grin drawn on his face by lipstick as he jests, “Oh, you’re gonna suck me dry then?”

The joke isn’t new to Baekhyun, who roams the city dressed as a more fashionable version of Dracula every Halloween night, but the tone in which is pronounced sounds like a lewd promise. The sexy stranger is trying to flirt with him.

His canines have already started to hurt as they protract until they are piercing his own tongue. The pinpricks of pain and a couple of hundred years of practiced self-control are the only things that keep him sane enough not to throw himself at the stranger’s throat. His previous victim completely forgotten, he leans forward until he’s blowing his words on slightly gaping red lips. “Until the last drop,” he assures, taking in the handsome features of the other boy, his full lips, the strong nose, the slight quiver of his Adam’s apple at Baekhyun’s dirty innuendo.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” they ask at the same time, only to laugh afterwards. From then, they fall in a pleasurable banter, half laughed and half shouted over the cacophonic music of the club. The boy introduces himself as Chanyeol. He’s here with some friends, lost in the dancing crowd. When Baekhyun asks him if he’s worried about them he snickers, the Joker smile following his real own as he assures Baekhyun that he has much more interesting things to do than to third wheel at his friends’ date.

It’s easy, almost too easy, but for once Baekhyun doesn’t want to overthink things. He just wants to get this boy in his pants and from what he sees Chanyeol wants the same. A tiny flame of arousal licks at his belly at the thought and he reaches for his drink. Chanyeol is faster and their hands brush - they tingle, Chanyeol’s hands tingle and burn - as the boy steals the drink and tastes it.

“Bloody Mary, as expected from a vampire,” jokes Chanyeol, stopping to lick a runaway red drop from his lips as he puts the glass back on the table. Baekhyun doesn’t actually drink alcohol, but he can pretend. He rises the flute to his lips and doesn’t wince as the liquid barely touches his lips. He swallows no more than three drops and they burn his throat, but he’s too busy following the quick movements of Chanyeol’s lipstick stained lips to notice.

He still feels flustered, almost drunk, but at least the faint sense of unease he felt when Chanyeol managed to surprise him - him, an ancient vampire with superhuman hearing - has vanished, and he finds himself slightly mesmerized by Chanyeol’s personality, his crude jokes and the cute gestures of affection he has towards Baekhyun. Like moving Baekhyun’s fringe out of his eyes or handing him the flute with a flourish. Baekhyun drinks with his eyes closed and doesn’t stare at the veins on Chanyeol’s wrists.

He shouldn’t find this boy adorable, they’ve just met and Chanyeol is only trying the gentlemen card to bring him home. Baekhyun should feel repulsed by his lack of subtlety, but somehow he finds his behavior endearing. And then there’s Chanyeol’s smell, drowned in the chemical stink of heavy makeup and cheap one-day-only hair dye. Underneath everything else, Chanyeol’s blood is calling to Baekhyun’s teeth like a siren.

“Do I have something on my face?” he asks, unsure, when he realizes that Chanyeol has been staring at him for a while, a pensive expression on his face.

“No, just,” he hesitates, “wow, I don’t know how I managed to miss this, but the whole ‘white colored lens in your left eye’ thing is freaking awesome.”

The first instinct is to cover his eye, because it shouldn’t be white and it’s strange, it means something is wrong with his powers. He hates not having everything under control. He drops a weak smile towards Chanyeol, in the end, muttering a “Cool, isn’t it?” even if it isn’t cool at all. At least Chanyeol thought it was a Halloween flamboyant prop. Not cool. Get a hold on yourself, Byun Baekhyun.

His body feels strange. It’s been too long since the last time he got out of the house. One year since last Halloween.

Baekhyun doesn’t like the world as it is now. Call him a romantic, but he liked the candle-lit living rooms and heavy brocades of the past, so much more than the cheap, bright plastic the vivid lights of this time. Sure, the twentieth century has brought some joy to his secluded life. Like the existence of internet, very useful if you only go out during Halloween night, but also very useless when Baekhyun can’t even turn on Sehun’s laptop when his little brother is not at home to do it for him. But being holed up at home all the time also has many disadvantages. Baekhyun is simply not used to it anymore. All these people, dancing around him, offering themselves to him, assaulting his senses. All this fresh blood, such a difference from the bags of cold plasma that Jongdae or Kyungsoo bring home from the hospital and that make his nose scrunch. It’s difficult to keep the thirst at bay if you’ve been starving for so long, and the confusion of the club is not helping. Chanyeol is not helping.

He’s so glad when his partner proposes to move their new-born friendship somewhere else. Maybe a change of scenery will help him to keep his powers under control. He leaves the drink to the boy with the Greek stole, snorting when he accepts it with a blank face. Kids nowadays should really learn not to trust strangers, what if the drink had been spiked?

“Are you coming, Baekhyun?” calls Chanyeol’s booming voice, and before he can react he’s being hauled all the way to the door.

“What about the drinks?” he asks, but Chanyeol dismisses him quickly, “Already paid for it,” he assures. They stumbles outside, into the awaiting chilly night. The cold is like a slap after the steamy atmosphere of the club. The bouncer only gives them a quick salute.

He wants to ask if Chanyeol’s place is alright, but soon Chanyeol’s lips are crashing onto his, warm and inviting, and his tongue is plunging into Baekhyun’s mouth, curling to find his tongue and taste it. Baekhyun lets out a little moan. It’s too close and too soon. Chanyeol’s big hand on the small of his back, dragging him closer, makes him shudder with desire. He doesn’t even think about his fangs being ready to pierce until he feels the coppery taste of blood on his palate. He shudders, his head spinning with thirst, and when Chanyeol lets him go, probably to ask what the hell was the biting thing, Baekhyun follows his lips, biting them and licking a red drop of blood and lipstick right from Chanyeol's mouth.

“Aren't you a little crazy thing?” asks Chanyeol, breathless, his lips smeared with red, his own red. Baekhyun's eyes are hooded and unfocused. “I've called a taxi, it'll probably be here in a few minutes.”

Baekhyun doesn't even listen. He tiptoes to reach Chanyeol because the other boy is so tall, merges their lips together. Chanyeol’s mouth is slick, open, intoxicating. He wants to bite his tongue and then move onto his neck, opening a path of red on Chanyeol’s painted white skin.

Someone calls Chanyeol, the boy from before. The laurel crown has slid to the side of his head, covering an ear, but his face is not unfocused anymore. “Chanyeol, are you going home?”

Chanyeol’s arms wrap around Baekhyun’s waist possessively, his fingers dipping in the folder of the silk cape. “Don’t worry, Xing, I’ve found company for the night. Ask Yifan to crash at your apartment if he wants to have sex, our place is no limits tonight.” He receives a serious nod.

“Who was that?” inquires Baekhyun, watching the boy come back inside the building.

“My flatmate’s boyfriend. I’m glad they found each other in the crowd, at least. Yifan abandoned me as soon as we arrived because we were late and he was worried someone could make a pass at him.”

Baekhyun hums under his breath, feeling guilty. Boyfriend or not, the pretty boy would’ve fallen in his trap quite easily if Chanyeol hadn’t arrived. Chanyeol simply holds him tighter. The fingers threaded in the silk of Baekhyun’s pants press harder, dipping in his ass.

“Don’t mind him, think only of me,” says Chanyeol, and Baekhyun wants to snort because they’ve just met and only an idiot would try to woo a one night stand with such cheesy words, but then Chanyeol is using the hold on his ass to haul him higher until they’re kissing again and the taste of blood on his lips as Baekhyun sucks on them is enough to make everything else go blank.

“You’re only mine for tonight,” whispers Chanyeol, even if it’s quite the contrary because Baekhyun is the hunter and Chanyeol is his prey. He still finds himself nodding and following the taller boy inside the taxi when their ride home arrives.

Chanyeol doesn’t let him go while he recites the address to the driver. He keeps Baekhyun plastered to his side, flexing his fingers on his skin above the fabric. “Were you planning on bringing someone home?” he asks, and Chanyeol’s Joker makeup stretches when he smiles broadly.

“I wasn’t planning on it, honestly, but then I stepped in that club and I saw you. I couldn’t just let you walk away, you know?”

Baekhyun picks the flirtatious edge and twist it in his mouth, as he quickly replies, “Couldn’t you?”

“Oh, no I couldn’t,” repeats Chanyeol, “who knows what a pretty dangerous thing like you could do all alone on Halloween night?”

The previous statement is actually more accurate than Chanyeol thinks, but Baekhyun doesn’t want to push his luck for tonight. He just wants to get into Chanyeol’s pants, to fuck him, to be fucked by him, possibly to sink his teeth in Chanyeol’s jugular hard enough to make his legs go numb, and suck harshly until the paleness of his neck will have bruised even under the heavy makeup.

The interior of the taxi is cramped and suffocating and Chanyeol’s scent permeates the air, a strong cologne tainted by a hint of sweat and arousal. Chanyeol keeps turning his head towards Baekhyun, revealing his neck on a silver platter, and only a strange sense of pride keeps Baekhyun’s teeth away from the tender skin. He’s so old, he can control himself until he and Chanyeol are both lax and warm from an explosion of pleasure, their limbs tired by all the sex they’ll have. Kyungsoo and Jongdae wouldn’t let him live the humiliation of having to bite his prey before actually fucking them like a newly turned, lust-driven baby vampire. He’s better than this. He can survive Chanyeol’s unconscious teasing.

“You’re really into this vampire thing, Baekhyun.”

“Hmm, what?” he asks, hoping he didn’t space out for too long. Chanyeol snickers at his dazed expression.

“You’ve been staring at my neck for minutes. Come, we’re here,” and as he says it the car is already stopping. He has the money ready in his pocket, the house keys in the hand that’s not tightly grasping Baekhyun’s. They immediately head towards the stairs. Baekhyun counts thirty-five steps in his head, trying to keep his cool, before they stop in front of Chanyeol’s door. They tumble inside and close the door behind them, finally trapped in the safety and privacy of a house.

“Oh, finally,” moans Baekhyun, before crashing his lips on Chanyeol’s again, cold and insistent against moist warmth. Chanyeol chuckles at his impatience and fights against Baekhyun’s cape to hook long fingers under his armpits, hoisting him up with no apparent effort. The red and black cape falls to the ground, and Baekhyun mourns for a moment for the precious, original Victorian silk that now lies in a graceless pile on the dusty floor of what looks like a student flat.

“Leave it there,” commands Chanyeol between one kiss and another, “come.” He pulls him towards one of the rooms, a tiny cubicle with nothing more than a large bed and a closet. A tiny laptop flashes blue light into the room, a stark contrast with the yellow lights outside, but Chanyeol closes it before turning back to Baekhyun and stealing another wild kiss.

Kiss me on the mouth and set me free
Sing me like a choir
I can be the subject of your dreams
Your sickening desire
Don't you want to see a man up close?
A phoenix in the fire
So kiss me on the mouth and set me free
But please don't bite
BITE - T. Sivan

Baekhyun doesn’t complain when Chanyeol pushes him down and he lands on the soft mattress, immediately unfolding his legs because there’s so much space around him. He wants Chanyeol to kneel between his obscenely spread thighs and Chanyeol eagerly complies.

He cages Baekhyun with his body, looms over him. In the darkness, his face looks grotesque, all distorted by the Joker disguise and the crude glooms of the night. His eyes are shadowed, dark, almost menacing and cold in the half-light, his skin too pale and pasty, foundation caking on the faintest shadow of an evening stubble. Only his lips shine, not from the lipstick, dried on the upper lip and all around his mouth in a creepy smile, but because of Chanyeol’s constant habit of darting out his tongue to wet them, as Baekhyun has noticed in the club. He has the face of a killer and the lips of a prostitute and he’s gorgeous. Someone else would feel threatened, cornered on the bed by a beautiful boy that looks like a demon ready to eat your soul, someone else would feel small and weak, especially when Chanyeol’s fingers undo the first button of the blouse, revealing Baekhyun’s pale chest. Someone else’s trembling would be because of fear, but not Baekhyun’s.

The dizziness he feels is not panic, he repeats in his mind, but adrenaline, pumping through his Undead, immortal body, moving something in the recess of his loins. Baekhyun is the predator and Baekhyun is in control. Even now, he could break Chanyeol’s neck with a snap of his fingers.

Let him come, he thinks, and let’s see what this arrogant human has to offer me. Let’s see if he’s worth my time and the privilege of my teeth on his veins. Most humans perceive the bite as something intensely erotic, a kiss that feels like an orgasm for both parts. Baekhyun wants to see what kind of face Chanyeol will make when Baekhyun’s teeth pierce through his skin, but Chanyeol has to deserve it first.

Chanyeol definitely knows what he’s doing, and Baekhyun wonders where he learned to do it so well, or if he’s just a fucking natural talent. He’s rough, deliberately so, the way he grips Baekhyun’s jaw to turn his head up when he wants to kiss him and rearranges Baekhyun’s legs, manhandling him on the back. Baekhyun pulls him down with the pressure of his calves on Chanyeol’s back, and he receives the sting of five fingers on his thighs.

“Are you into spanking?” he gasps, and if his cock wasn’t twitching at the mere thought, it definitely does it when Chanyeol answers, “Only if you’re not into behaving.”

A laugh bubbles out of his throat, half choked by a sigh when Chanyeol palms his cock, still trapped into the black pants. Chanyeol leans down, his voice caressing Baekhyun’s ear, tickling his neck. “I have this feeling you’re not at all into behaving, Baekhyun.”

He answers in the same, confidential tone, kissing Chanyeol’s cheek and almost tasting the powdery black slap on his face as he talks, “I have this feeling you’ll enjoy punishing me if I don’t behave.”

Chanyeol only smirks and teases Baekhyun through his pants, making him trash a little on the bed. “Your pants have to go, Baekhyun,” he singsongs, his fingers tapping lightly on the growing erection in a teasing manner.

“You do the hard work,” he shoots back, raising his hips a bit to help him with the task, “you’re in charge.”

Chanyeol unfasten the pants, hooking his fingers around the fabric to pull it down, and Baekhyun waits for his inevitable reaction with his best innocent face. He’s awarded by a loud hiss when Chanyeol finally notices his consistent lack of underwear. His confidence doesn’t crack, but he looks at Baekhyun like he doesn’t believe it. “You usually walk around like this or it’s just a once in a year thing?” he muses.

“Oh, I do it all the time,” he lies wickedly. “I just happen to like the feeling of silk on my cock better, you know. And when I’m at home I solve the problem by wandering around naked.”
Chanyeol slaps his thigh again, this time harder, massaging it lightly afterwards when the imprint of his hand is starting to turn the skin pink and warm. “I was right, you’re a public menace. I can’t let you roam the streets.”

“You should’ve dressed as a police officer then,” jokes Baekhyun. He drops his voice lower in a pale imitation of Chanyeol’s deep timbre, “You’re under arrest for being too sexy, Byun Baekhyun.” His heart does a somersault when Chanyeol doesn’t laugh at the joke, but frowns, his brow furrowed. He wants to ask if he’s really considering the option, but Chanyeol kisses him again and exploits the lack of pants to finally put his hand on Baekhyun’s cock.

Like before, he’s rough, but it’s a good kind of rough. Not rushed, not overexcited, but attentive and deliberate, as if he wants Baekhyun to fall in his grasp. And it’s too easy for Baekhyun to let go of his control, because he doesn’t need it. Not when he feels pampered and satisfied, thrusting leisurely in Chanyeol’s fist. He opens his mouth in a needy plead and warm lips are covering it, sucking on his tongue, and Chanyeol’s hand pumps a little faster, his fingers pull at the base of his dick, unleashing a storm in Baekhyun’s belly.

He thinks he could come just like this, in Chanyeol’s hands. He can always fuck him later. One doesn’t wait an entire year just for a measly blowjob, no matter how fantastic Chanyeol is with his hands.

“Harder,” he demands, “faster, like that… Where did you learn to do that?”

“The fact that you have enough breath to ask me means that I’m not trying hard enough,” says Chanyeol, and he gives one last stroke before dropping on his knees in front of Baekhyun’s open legs. “Wait, what are you doing, Chanyeo-”

The words are cut in half by a low moan, because Chanyeol doesn’t mind his teeth when he decides to envelope Baekhyun’s erection with the moist heat of his mouth. When he dares to watch down at him, the little fucker is smiling. He did it on purpose, and Baekhyun just wants to flip him over, but Chanyeol is bent between his legs, with Baekhyun’s cock still in his hands, his lips just shy of the head. “Trying harder,” he answers, and he dips down again, with his lips, not quite taking Baekhyun in his mouth, just the tip. When he lets go again to talk Baekhyun is ready to jump at his neck.

“You’re so cold, but your dick is really hot.”

“Then can you fucking put it back in your fucking mouth?” he asks, politely. Chanyeol smirks and his teeth grace slightly against the sensitive skin, sending pinpricks of pleasure and arousal down Baekhyun’s cock and into his limbs. He’s sweating, absolutely wrecked, and it’s been more than fifty years since the last time he was so ruined after only a blowjob. It’s been more than twenty years since he’s let someone give him a blowjob. He usually is the one who does it, since he has a bad habit of putting things in his mouth and it’s difficult for him to give up the privilege of being on the giving part. Chanyeol doesn’t make it look like a great sacrifice.

“You’re good,” he mumbles, “you’re too good to be real.”

He keeps murmuring soft words, mostly to himself because it’s unlikely that Chanyeol can hear him over the slick, gross sounds his mouth is making around Baekhyun’s cock.

He opens his eyes again when Chanyeol lets him go to whisper, “Look at this.” When he dares to look down he’s greeted by the sight of his own cock, proudly erect, glistening with precome and lipstick, so dirty and vulgar. He blushes, like he hasn’t done in ages, and even Chanyeol must’ve noticed, the redness spreading quickly on his white skin. “I didn’t think you had enough fresh blood in your body to do that,” he comments, before sinking down onto Baekhyun again.

Something clicks in Baekhyun’s mind, an amiss detail. There’s a piece that doesn’t fit the puzzle, and he wants to shove Chanyeol away because it’s hot, too hot, it’s becoming unbearable, the pleasure radiating from his crotch, from Chanyeol’s mouth tainted by red and sin, to the rest of his body. It dances along his veins, runs on nerves and muscles until it reach the bones - Baekhyun shakes from the sheer intensity of it - and after reaching the very end of his body, it comes back, falling towards the center of his body and breaking anything on its wake. His legs tremble, and Chanyeol has to keep them apart and still with his hands to avoid being crushed by their hold. His mouth opens in a silent scream of satisfaction, the voice of someone who has waited too long for this. Fingers scramble on the sheet, looking for an anchor, somewhere to hold on, because the exploding force of the orgasm makes him feel like he’s being dragged down too, ready to disappear in fireworks and hot searing quakes.

Chanyeol holds Baekhyun until the pleasure has fogged out, until his legs have stopped quivering in his hold and his cock is not twitching feebly around his tongue anymore. He only leaves a last, long lick, making sure to catch the vein, just to feel Baekhyun squirm under him with a tiny whimper.

Then he lets go of the flaccid cock, making sure not to touch it to avoid bringing discomfort to the still panting boy. One leg on every side of Baekhyun’s hips, he takes something from the dresser, a towel maybe, thinks Baekhyun. His head is still garbled and full of cotton but his body remembers the recent pleasure. It has the shape of Chanyeol’s hands, the heat of his mouth, the color of his indecent lipstick, the sound of a pair of handcuffs suddenly closing against his wrist. Wait, what?

“Chanyeol?” he calls, more than a little angry, “Are you into bondage too?” It’s not like he doesn’t fancy the idea, but Chanyeol could’ve asked instead of just restraining him. He pulls a little, testing the strength of the shackles, expecting them to break immediately under his superhuman strength. The metal survives the attack intact. More than that, Baekhyun feels his wrist itch and burn.

“Silver,” he whispers. The fog in his head clears and he gasps at the gravity of his situation. He's so fucked. So, so fucked.

“You must be really old if you can stand the contact with silver without burning,” muses Chanyeol. He checks the tightness of the cuffs to make sure that Baekhyun can’t get rid of his restraints. The metal scratches against Baekhyun’s skin, making him hiss in pain. He swears when Chanyeol pulls again, cold and professional but unnecessarily harsh. He can feel the regeneration slowly kicking in to replace the burnt cells, making his skin itch where it’s touching the silver handcuffs. “At least it’s keeping you grounded,” sighs Chanyeol, and Baekhyun wants to spit at him.

He may be weak to the curse of Artemis, but the handcuffs are not the only thing draining all his supernatural strength. He’s been feeling off all night, dazed and weakened, almost drunk, since the…

“You spiked my drink,” he murmurs, “you little, miserable…”

Chanyeol pulls on the handcuff again, and this time the silver bites into his skin. He curses the name of God and it burns his tongue. He can’t believe this is happening. Whatever Chanyeol put in his drink was strong enough to annihilate his powers. He hasn’t felt this weak in one hundred years. Even the light of the stars would bother him in this awful condition. If Chanyeol were to pull the curtains away, he’d be in even more trouble.

Chanyeol pats his cheek, slowly, his face an impassive mask. “Don’t faint on me, you must be awake while I read you your rights.”

“Let me go,” he begs, “it hurts.”

Chanyeol knew he was a vampire right from the start and he joked about it all night, when Baekhyun thought he was just referring to a Halloween outfit. It was a trap made of smiles, careless touches and sex, and Baekhyun has fallen right into it.

“What do you want from me?”

Chanyeol clears his throat. “You’re under arrest, Baekhyun.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Let me go, I don’t want to be a part of some sick roleplay,” he growls, infuriated and tired, and he tries to shake his wrists again and break the cuffs, but he only manages to hurt himself.

“This is not a joke, you have been arrested for attempting to seduce a human and possibly drink his blood. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present-”

Baekhyun feels bile in his throat. Now he’s gone and done it. He goes out only once in one entire year and the only fuck he manages to score just happens to be an undercover agent. One from the vampire police, even. Such luck. He only knows about the Department of Undead Affairs because Jongdae sometimes help them trace some runaway vampire and because Kyungsoo is kind-of-but-not-really unofficially going out with one of their agents. He doesn’t pay a lot of attention to what his brothers say to him most of the time, but the general impression he got was that the vampire police, like Jongdae and Kyungsoo call them, is a pain in the ass. Technically, they deal with crimes committed by, against or involving Undead citizens. Mostly, they patrol the city and protect people from evil, not-registered vampires.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but you got the wrong person. I have a residence card and a permission to roam the streets freely.”

“Can you show it to me now?”

Of course not. The documents are in his nest, at home. He bites his lips conflicted. He really is in trouble.

“Just like I thought. Look, I’ve been patrolling the West Side for years and I’ve questioned at least every vampire living here. I’ve never seen you, you don’t have your documents and you tried to seduce me.”

“Cut the crap, you stuck your hands inside my pants and I didn’t even try to bite you. This is basically kidnapping and torture. I’m naked. You’re disrespecting my human rights-”

“Except you’re not human. You’re scum.”

Baekhyun sees red. His hands move before he can help it, pulling until he can feel the bone disjoint with a fine pop on his left wrist. Then comes the heat, searing and destructive, and the stench of burnt skin, but he doesn’t care. He growls, showing fangs that have grown so much he can’t even close his mouth until they retreat.

Chanyeol looks unimpressed. “Go on, cry all you want. Pull all you want. I hope you pull too much and end up in ashes and dust. You’re just pollution dirtying our otherwise safe streets. We’d have a vampire less without even having to wait for the trial.”

The silver stings, once again, as he tries to break free. He’s shaking all over, disappointment washing over him like a cold shower. He hates humans, hates this predictable, bleak world of pretenses and lies. He had sworn to himself, a long time ago, to give up on everything. That’s why he lives in his little room, wasting away his entire, majestic existence and feeling it would be even more purposeless out there. Yet, no matter how much he tries, he can’t really forget that outside the four walls he has chosen as his coffin, there’s an entire world. It’s curiosity that leads him outside to roam the streets every Halloween night. It was curiosity who got the cat today.

Chanyeol looks down at him with empty eyes, and maybe it would be easier to hate him if his voice was dripping venom and his face was distorted into a gloomy mask. But he still looks younger than he is, a kid playing adult games and Baekhyun doesn’t find it in himself to feel hatred towards him.

He leans down, finally giving up fighting. He’s awarded with a quirk of Chanyeol’s eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, you got me. My wrists hurt. I’m naked and thirsty and still quite horny and there’s no way I’m going to wrestle free and transform in a bat and fly outside this flat laughing evilly because I’ve managed to outwit you.”

“I wouldn’t let you,” growls Chanyeol, and it’s funny that only now their position are starting to revert. Now he’s the annoyed one, while Baekhyun relaxes on the bed, flexing his toes to test their sensibility and squirming until he finds the most comfortable position.

“I wouldn’t do it. My clothes are still around your filthy floor. They’re my original clothes, you know? Two hundred years old. I’ll be able to squeeze a huge sum of money out of an ebay auction for them, if my little brother agrees to help me with the computer stuff.”

Chanyeol blinks, dumbfounded by the unexpected change of topic. “Why would you auction your clothes on ebay?”

“I won’t ever need to wear clothes,” he answers, matter-of-factly, “since I’m never going to set a foot outside my house again, once this whole mess is cleaned and one of my brothers has paid the bail to get me out of jail. You humans are like a plague. I hate you all.” He smiles, angelically, and he doesn’t even need his powers to feel when Chanyeol’s blood starts to boil in anger, no matter how much the other boy tries to conceal it. Chanyeol hates vampires too, and in that at least they could be even.

“Well, you couldn’t do it anyway. Your folks cannot turn into bats, it’s a metropolitan legend,” he mutters in the end.

“Oh, you don’t say,” he retorts, “I’ll call you the next time I need a full lesson on vampire powers from an arrogant little human.” Finally, Chanyeol blushes too, under all that white foundation.

“You’ll be calling me from a cell!”

“Oh, and I wonder how you’re going to drag me back to the station, considering that I’m cuffed to your bed, angry as fuck and quite naked. In fact, I’d like to see you try to get near me and walk away with your dick on the right place, because I swear, little worm, if I manage to break free, your junk will be the first thing I’ll bite.”

Baekhyun can’t blame the other boy if he doesn’t look impressed. After all, he’s still plastered on the bed, naked, exhausted. It’s not just the silver making him weak, it’s the natural reaction of his body, too used to his sanctuary of solitude and unable to bear the pressure of the outside world. That, and Chanyeol was really good at what he did. Baekhyun can still feel the glimmer of pleasure, hormones and adrenaline driving in his organism. He wants more, but at the same time he wants to crawl back home and sleep. The wound on his wrist itch, reminding him of the reason he can’t go back to his nest and forget about this doomed night. He silently twists his wrist again, testing the bond despite the pain.

Chanyeol retreats to take his phone and make a quick call, probably to his own colleagues. His eyes never leaves Baekhyun’s supine form, hands still painfully bent over his head and cuffed to the headboard. He mutters a few muffled words in the receiver, talking about a wandering, unregistered vampire he captured. They’ll probably escort him to the station, and there they’ll decide what to do with him.

Baekhyun is not really frightened by the eventuality as much as he is annoyed. He’s clean, there’s no real proof that he tried to bite someone tonight and his documents clearly state that he’s free to go anywhere without being accountable to anyone, especially young and bratty police officers. Actually, he could let himself be dragged away without fighting and explain the misunderstanding, or use the mandatory phone call to force Kyungsoo and Jongdae to rescue him and become their laughing stock for the next three centuries. It would be quite simple.

But he’s angry, like he’s never been since finding out about the existence of television talk shows. Angry, still horny, possibly the most offended he’s been in in his entire immortal life because how dared this gangly human? Baekhyun belongs to the most powerful race that has ever roamed on the earth, and this Park Chanyeol reduced him to the lowest position, tied on the bed, naked, unsatisfied, and completely played by a stupid kid. Oh, he could solve this the easy way, but he wouldn’t compare with the joy of breaking free, kicking Chanyeol’s ass and finally leaving this wicked place like the winner he is supposed to be. He still has a chance, if he plays his own cards well. Only one, and he’s going to use it to its fullest potential.

Baekhyun breathes deeply with his nose, even if he doesn’t need to. His dependence on air stopped being an issue a few centuries ago, when he first opened his eyes in this world of dark and light, so unlike his old life to his new, shiny, vampire eyes. Most vampires don’t breathe after the Turning, but Baekhyun likes the feeling of fresh air invading his chest, it helps him focus. The source of his power may be dry, but he doesn’t need his supernatural sense of hearing to perceive some things. The barking sounds of the dogs outside the window, the hissing and howling of the wind, someone listening to classical music three floors above them, a solitary wind chime calling for company, the rhythmic beat of a train passing by, Chanyeol typing on his phone, the crackling of the bed whenever he squirms. It must be an old bed, probably second hand, rich wood, even if a little timeworn, and not too long.

Another deep breath, and Baekhyun pushes against the foot of the bed, the soles of his feet flat against the wood. There’s a crack in the old, heavy walnut, he feels it against his skin. The metal chains of the cuffs tinkle lightly when he lowers his wrist down, and Chanyeol’s head snap towards him.

“What are you doing?” he inquires, more nervous than he wants to let out. His backup is probably late and Baekhyun can’t help but being happy about it since his plan will need some time to be enacted.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m fucking uncomfortable, asshole,” he slurs, tilting his head on a side. He pretends to stretch until his hands too are flat against the headboard. Deep suspect fills Chanyeol’s eyes, he probably knows Baekhyun is trying to do something but he can’t even reprimand him because he has no idea of what kind of wicked plan he’s plotting. “Just remember that if you try anything, I’ve just been told that I’m free to impale you.”

This time Baekhyun laughs, right in his face and in spite of his nervousness. “Oh, really? You’re a tad late for that, my boy, should’ve done that when you had the chance. You’re not going to find another great fuck like me in your dull, boring life.”

The bed is large, but not that long, to the point that Baekhyun wonders how a lanky dude like Chanyeol manages to sleep on it. It’s not difficult for him to start pushing again against the foot of the bed while his hands do the same against the headboard. Chanyeol is too angry and shocked to notice.

“I wouldn’t fuck you for money, bloodsucker.”

The wood cracks under the pressure of his limbs, but the sound his swallowed by another train. Chanyeol’s eyes dart from the phone to Baekhyun, back and forth, not wanting to miss a single information. The screen light casts a blue glow on his frown.

Baekhyun pushes again, shoving his whole weight on the opposite sides of the bed. This time, the crack is stronger, ominous, even Chanyeol notices it.

He’s up in a heartbeat, hovering above Baekhyun, tall and angry. “What are you doing, Baek-”

It’s too late, because the bed gives up after a last powerful kick and both Baekhyun and Chanyeol crumple on the floor in a mess of limbs, Baekhyun’s hands still tied to pieces of the headboard. His head hurts, he’s still weak and powerless but he was waiting for this moment. Before his captor can react, Baekhyun is on him. His cuffed hands burn when he wraps them around Chanyeol’s throat, the pain making his hold weak and sluggish. Chanyeol knees him, uses the difference in weight to shove him away, but Baekhyun holds onto him, digging his pink nails in Chanyeol’s flesh, clinging despite Chanyeol’s attempts to fend him off.

He knows what he has to do, and the only way Chanyeol would be able to stop him now would be beheading him or thrusting a wooden stick inside his heart. His powers are gone, his forces are gone, but there’s something in a vampire that never really goes away, and Baekhyun already feels his mouth water before he opens it. His canines grow longer, sharper, pointy and shiny fangs aimed right towards Chanyeol’s neck.

When the other boy realizes what Baekhyun is up to his resistance becomes a panicked trashing, frantic. Baekhyun doesn’t do this often lately, but he’s been a vampire for so long that instinct has already completely overwritten humanity on this matter. He can pretends he likes to survive on cold blood bags and be alright with it, but when he lowers his head onto Chanyeol’s neck, his fangs ready to break through the skin like a knife cutting butter, it feels like his nature had been calling for him all this time. It feels like coming home and like someone he’s pointing a wood stake at his back.

“Can you please stop ruining my Halloween night?” he sighs, his teeth a breath shy from Chanyeol’s neck.

“It’s ash wood. I may not be a vampire expert like you are, but I heard it can be pretty effective against your kind.” Chanyeol’s throat moves when he speaks, his Adam’s apple quivering from the effort of not letting fear crack his voice. His heart is beating like a drum, pumping blood through his veins at a mad pace. Baekhyun can perceive the flow with such intensity that his teeth ache from the instinct to strike.

“I can bite your neck faster than you can reach my heart,” he threatens, an empty lie.

“Bullshit, you’re barely awake and powerless.”

“Is that your dick poking my thigh?” Chanyeol splutters. Baekhyun squirms on top of him. “Yep, definitely your dick. Hello, mister I wouldn’t fuck you for money, bloodsucker.”

Chanyeol’s eyes ooze venom.

“Well, I’m sure you have only problems with the blood, right. What if I sucked something els-”

“Shut up or, I swear, I’ll end you.”

They still, in the growl of the Halloween night. The wildest hour has just passed, the clubs are closing and the streets are lively with sounds of car engines, taxis bringing drunken people back home, inebriated teenagers catcalling each other from one street to the other. They can hear their muffled slurs, together with the siren of an ambulance in the distance.

“I think they call this a deuce.” Chanyeol’s voice is a startle, and Baekhyun shakes a little. His teeth scrape Chanyeol’s skin lightly and the tip of the stake digs a bit harder between his scapulae.

They’re so close, he and Chanyeol, so much that he can distinguish the cracks in the mask of dry makeup widening when the other boy opens his mouth to breathe heavily. If Baekhyun leans down, his sweaty fringe will fall on Chanyeol’s neck.

Except this is not a deuce, like Baekhyun’s punctilious side so gently reminds him. Deuce is a tie, same result for both parts, but their stale is not going to work for so long. Soon, Chanyeol will have the upper hand again.

Baekhyun grits his teeth. “Can’t you just let me walk away? It’s been a bad enough night for both of us.”

“If I let you go nothing assures me you won’t suck me dry anyway. I won’t trust a vampire’s word.”

There are less than two hours left until morning. Baekhyun worries about the sunrise, ready to burn him alive just like the silver at his wrists is slowly consuming the flesh with a soft sizzle. He’s becoming weaker and weaker. Soon enough, the last swirls of energy will have left his body empty like a doll plastered on top of Chanyeol - he can already see black at the corner of his vision. A bead of sweat makes its way down Chanyeol’s forehead, tumbling onto his neck and Baekhyun looks at it, almost distracted, staring at the way it breaks in other little drops as Chanyeol’s chest heaves up and down.

In the silence of the house, they both hear very clearly the sound of the lock clicking as the door to Chanyeol’s apartment winds open.

It must be the backup Chanyeol was talking about, come to take Baekhyun away. Instead of relaxing, Chanyeol’s body tenses even more. Baekhyun has to stick even closer to Chanyeol’s body to avoid the pressure of the ash wood stake in his back.

“Don’t move,” orders Chanyeol. Baekhyun only snort, because he doesn’t have a choice but sitting still.

Footsteps cross the apartment and Chanyeol calls loudly, “Here!” in that deliciously rich voice of his. Baekhyun sways, thinking that at least they’ll put those infernal devices out of his hands. What he’s not expecting to hear is the voice of his brother.

“Let him go!”

He turns, quite dumbfounded, “Who are you talking to?”

Another voice - he recognizes the timbre but he can’t really give a face to the sound - answers for him.

“Both of you.”

Like a heartbeat drives you mad
In the stillness of remembering
What you had
And what you lost
And what you had
And what you lost
Dreams - G. Aplin ft. Bastille

The hand that pulls Baekhyun away from Chanyeol's tense body is small and cold. Kyungsoo's eyes are usually colder, but today they're burning with anger and something that could be... concern. It could be the first time Kyungsoo worries about him after Seulgi tried to kill him, decades ago - not counting of course all the times he and Jongdae have nagged because of Baekhyun's self-imposed life of reclusion. This time, though, it's different. Kyungsoo's eyes scan the room, pausing on the pointy ash wood stake still tightly held in Chanyeol's hands. He bares his teeth.

The other boy in the room immediately runs at Chanyeol's side and gets him up as well. Baekhyun recognizes his face despite having seen him only once, the day Kyungsoo forcefully dragged him out of his rooms to pompously introduce his boyfriend Jongin to him.

Chanyeol apparently knows Jongin quite well, according to the exasperation he puts in his voice when he addresses Jongin with a growl. “Why are you so late? He almost killed me!”

Only then Baekhyun remembers that Jongin belongs to Chanyeol’s same police force, working on crimes involving vampires, perpetrated by or against them. The last thought brings a sour smile to Baekhyun's lips because it’s not every day that someone tries to commit a crime against a vampire. Like it happened tonight.

Chanyeol's face looks eerie, the sweat melting the already scary makeup on his angry features. Twin trails of red travels down his neck where Baekhyun's teeth have graced the skin. Not deep enough, he thinks, with a tinge of regret.

“Jongin, arrest him!”

“I'm afraid you cannot arrest him, Park Chanyeol,” answers Kyungsoo with a fake, polite smile. But for Baekhyun, who's known him since what feels like forever, is not difficult to recognize the signs of his brother's anger from how tightly his mouth is set and the almost imperceptible way his nostrils flare. Jongin watches with eyes full of trepidation as his boyfriend stalks close to Chanyeol, before throwing an ID card in his face. “This is his identification document. Now I think it's time for you to find the key for those handcuffs and to apologize for your mistake.”

Chanyeol doesn't even look at the document. If Kyungsoo's anger is freezing cold, Chanyeol's is blazing hot, ready to explode.

“I don't care if he's one of your bloodsucker friends, Do-”

“He's my brother, you fucker!”

Only then Chanyeol's eyes widen in recognition, before he scowls again. “He can be your vampire sire, it doesn't concern me. He still needs to come to the police station with me and get questioned. What he did...”

“Oh, don't worry, I will come to the police station with you,” says Baekhyun, his voice sweeter than honey. Everyone turns to stare at him and only then they seem to realize he's still completely naked except for his wrists, where the silver handcuffs are still staining his skin charcoal and ash. Kyungsoo hurriedly removes his jacket and hands it to him but Baekhyun refuses. “I have to report an abuse. One of your officers today drugged me, kidnapped me, sexually assaulted me and tried to kill me.

Chanyeol blinks, before his face morphs in a mask of fury. “You little, dirty...” He bites his lips, trying to calm himself. “Now you talk of sexual assault? I say it was pretty consensual until I tied you to the bed.”

“My drink was spiked, I wouldn't call it real consent.”

“I spiked your drink to get rid of your powers but you could still take rational decisions and you followed me home on your own." He takes a ddep, angry breath. "How pretentious of a vampire to complain about consent, when all you monsters do is seducing humans, fucking them and sucking them dry when they're under the control of your powers.”

Baekhyun doesn't let him finish, turning towards Jongin instead. “You can testify the presence of a lethal weapon in this room, and a simple test will confirm I was robbed of my powers and I couldn’t even defend myself. Vervain essence, I think, and maybe aconite. I have nothing else to say to my assailant so can you please take me to the local police station to denounce his crime?”

It's with a morbid pleasure that he watches color drain from Chanyeol's face.

“I think there was a misunderstanding,” says Jongin, weakly. “Chanyeol is on my team and he's the best at his job. He knows all the vampires in this city so when he didn't recognize you he probably thought you were..”

“I don't care what he thought. I am part of this city and I have no moral obligation to make my face known by every stupid officer in town. What I do and what I don't do is none of your business.”

Baekhyun tries to keep the venom out of his voice and his mind, but he can't. In his long life, many others have tried to kill him. That's not what makes him angry. He simply can't believe he was stupid enough to fall for a pretty face and a bunch of sweet lies told by a deep, velvety voice. Yesung should’ve taught him better. Yuri, should’ve taught him better. And Soojung, too. Seulgi should’ve been the ultimate warning. Four hundred years of life as an Undead and he still trusts humans too easily. And they betray him, every time.

“Your job is to identify and arrest unregistered vampires, and unfortunately for you I am not one. I've lived in this city long before you were born and not only your pathetic attempt to arrest me was totally uncalled for, but you abused of your position as an officer to take advantage of me.”

He still has Chanyeol's taste on his lips, the feeling of his hands on his skin. The thought makes him feel better for a moment, until he remembers he also has Chanyeol's handcuffs on his wrists.

He could've let this slide if only Chanyeol had approached him as a policeman from the beginning, if he had asked for Baekhyun's ID and had tried to arrest him after Baekhyun told him he didn't have one with him. But Chanyeol flirted with him and kissed him. Chanyeol put his lips on his cock. Chanyeol used a split moment of distraction to tie him to the headboard of the bed with silver restraints. Chanyeol had an ash wood stake hidden under the bed and Seulgi had one hidden in the sleeve of her wedding dress. The story repeats itself.

“I can assure you he's a good person,” Jongin tries again, “he's not-”

“I don't care how many big bad vampires he put in jail. I don't care if he's your friend and you're Kyungsoo's fucktoy or that Jongdae collaborates with your stupid police force on a daily basis. He must be punished for what he did, and I'm ready to empty the family vault and fund an entire army of lawyers to make sure he never roams the street again.”

If Chanyeol and Jongin look at him like he’s a monster, Baekhyun doesn't care. He doesn't want to care anymore. Caring means it can hurt, and tonight he's been hurt enough as it is. In this existence, he's been hurt enough to last for more than a lifetime. That's why he decided to give up on the world, to waste his existence in the darkness of his house. But he never learns.

I should've stayed at home today. I should lock myself in my hole and never come out again. This world doesn't want me. Chanyeol didn't want him either, and that burns more than anything else. Even one night stands have ulterior motives when it comes to me.

Park Chanyeol will never understand how humiliated he feels right now. And tired, so tired. His wrists hurt, his head hurts, even his eyes hurt. He feels so weak, so...

He faintly hears Kyungsoo screaming.

“The curtains, close the damn curtains!” He doesn't understand. It's too early for dawn, they still have at least another hour before it becomes dangerous. “Get the handcuffs off him, immediately, or he'll burn like a newborn vampire! Park Chanyeol, if something happens to my brother because of you I won't get you fired, I'll get you dead before this dawn.”

Baekhyun doesn't even realize he's falling.

Thunder only happens when it's raining
Players only love you when they're playing
Women they will come and they will go
When the rain washes you clean, you'll know,
You'll know, you'll know
(All we had and all we lost)
Dreams - G. Aplin ft. Bastille

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | epilogue