Vampires Suck
Title: Vampires Suck
Genre: Parody, humor, AU
Rating: PG 13
Pairing: KiHae
Summary: Kibum just wanted a chance to start over with his dad. No one ever asked the weirdest vampire in Seoul to follow him around. Well, with Kyuhyun, there was always that possibility. But Kibum really thought he had the magnae better trained than that.
a/n: I wrote this for the contest in Miracle, but I wanted it on my own journal. And I wanted a chance to fix some errors I had found while reading over it as well. Maybe I'll even write up an afterward or something for it, but maybe not. Still, it was a fun piece to write, even if I didn't win anything for it.
And if you haven't seen the movie 'Vampires Suck,' do it. Do it now.
---
Kibum couldn’t exactly say what it was that had driven him to leave all of his family and friends and life California to live with his dad in Seoul. His parents were divorced, and not amicably, but it wasn’t like he didn’t get to see the man.
It was Seoul, after all, and not some backwater mountain town in the middle of nowhere. His dad had a freaking awesome job, and got to fly out pretty much whenever he wanted and say it was for work when really all they would be doing would be jet skiing or something.
But never actual skiing. Kibum freaking hated snow. He lived in California for a reason. If his mother had decided to move somewhere actually cold more often the Seoul, he couldn’t say he would be living with her.
Which brought him back to his current predicament.
He was in Seoul.
To stay.
Supposedly by his own free will.
And the sky did not look promising.
“I hate the cold,” he groaned, dragging his suitcase angrily behind him. A passing security person in a crisp uniform looked at him oddly. “I freaking hate the cold!” he shouted in Korean. He didn’t care if he was arrested. Maybe they’d send him back to California. Maybe they didn’t want whatever disease had eaten away at his mind to the point where he thought that coming here in the middle of winter would be a good idea. He continued grumbling such things to himself as he dragged his suitcase away from the terminal, not caring when it tried to flip over, only cursing and continuing to drag it. He kicked the ground, he kicked the door as he passed it, and he thought about kicking a taxi when he finally stopped outside, shivering in his sweater.
Throwing a tantrum would not get him to his dad’s apartment any faster, he tried to tell himself. But that didn’t stop the feeling that his teeth might be ground to stubs by the time that anyone came to pick him up from all his shivering. He rubbed furiously at his arms, wondering if he could stop long enough to pull out his coat before he was turned into an icicle.
He was saved from making such a decision, though, when a black sedan pulled up to the curb in front of him. He knew it was trying for the ‘inconspicuous’ look, but really the effect was more like Lady Gaga hanging out at a Nascar race. You could tell just what didn’t belong. All the brightly colored taxies were reflected in the black paint and darkened windows, and Kibum got a good look at his post-twenty-four-hour-plane-ride damage. His hair was sticking out at odd angles, his oversized sweater hanging halfway off of his shoulder, and was that drool? Kibum wiped at his mouth furiously, barely managing to get the last bit as the window rolled down.
“Are you coming or would you rather I fetch you a makeup kit so you can powder your nose?” the driver said, his mouth curling into a sneer.
Kibum stared at him for a moment. “Who did you steal this from?”
“Kibummie recognizes me!” the other man shouted. Well. Man was a relative term. Cho Kyuhyun would have liked to believe he was born on Krypton but the only alien race he was the heir to were the Nerds. Gender between cultures that different was a question for the anthropologists to answer.
“Just because I live in America doesn’t mean you can drop the honorifics,” Kibum sighed, jerking open the door and tossing his bag in the back seat. At least Kyuhyun kept the car warm. He reached around to the side of the door - the seat warmers! - and suddenly it was good to be home.
Kyuhyun just chuckled as he tore out of the terminal parking garage. “Do you make your hoes call you oppa?”
“Someone should really teach you to shut your mouth.” Kibum pulled his feet up onto the leather seats, leaning heavily against the window. Maybe he could get a nap in before he had to go through the required greetings and dinners and parties and all the weird people that his dad knew.
“I’m sorry,” Kyuhyun sighed, leaning back in his seat as if he wasn’t tearing up the pavement. Seriously, weren’t there any cops around? More silence greeted Kibum though, and he was not going to waste it hoping that Kyuhyun would get pulled over.
Kyuhyun killed the silence soon enough himself, anyway. “So . . . do you make your hoes call you hyung?”
Kibum, contorted in his seat as he was, was in the perfect position to kick Kyuhyun in the shoulder. He took full advantage of this. But after a few minutes of non-stop whining, the magnae was only laughing harder, and Kibum only wanted the day to end.
---
“Home Sweet Home!” Kyuhyun shouted, jumping up onto the walls of the courtyard, his arms spread wide as he surveyed the building before him.
There was really nothing to look at, Kibum decided. The high school looked the same as it did when he and Kyuhyun played tag and threw rocks at the lacross players. He packed some of the snow into a ball, taking aim at Kyuhyun’s head, but the other boy jumped down too quickly and the projectile wizzed overhead, splatting uselessly onto the pavement.
Snow was always useless. Even when he made the effort to get past their differences, it let him down. He tried to shake the cold out of his hands as Kyuhyun laughed again, the annoying ‘I told you so,’ laugh, a classic in the ‘Famous Witticisms of Cho Kyuhyun.’ Kibum wondered, not for the first time, if Kyuhyun was the reason he decided to move to America.
“Come on,” the younger boy shouted, turning around to walk backwards and wave Kibum forward. “Don’t you want to meet all your old friends, and brag about being multilingual, and sneak into the-”
“You must be breaking at least a dozen international laws just for breathing. No one should be this happy in the morning, and no one should be this happy to go to school.”
Kyuhyun mimed being shot by an arrow, falling to the ground in a very long, drawn out, dramatic death full of death rattles and flailing limbs. “Hyung, you wound me!!”
Kibum stepped over him, continuing on his way into school. Or he tried too, but the magnae grabbed the leg of his pants, Kibum slipped on a slick patch of pavement, and crashed into another student. Sturdy shoulders and a uniform jacket was about all he saw before both of them were crashing to the ground in a mess of limbs.
He hissed as the palm of his left hand scraped against the pavement. It didn’t look like too much of a mess, but the sting wouldn’t go away as he tried to shake it off, groaning and rolling off of his impromptu landing pad, mumbling apologies as he tried to drown out that annoying magnae laugh intermingled with ‘hyung, are you ok?’
Kibum waved Kyuhyun’s hand away, pushing himself to a sitting possition . . . just in time to see the student he ran in to push himself on his stomach, across the ice, shouting, “Whee!! I’m a penguin!!”
“Donghae, that’s not - penguins eat fish!” one of the boy’s friends shouted, chasing after him and somehow managing to keep his footing on the ice. Angelic, elfin features and a frazzled expression. And not a freaking hair out of place.
Kibum decided it would be better to check his sanity at the door when the other boy looked up, horrified. What were they? Maybe it would be better to not find out. He held out a hand for Kyuhyun to haul him to his feet. “Yay. School,” Kibum sighed, finally walking towards the building, as Kyuhyun hovered behind him. “I can already sense the stupid just waiting to pour into my brain.”
Kyuhyun threw an arm around his shoulder. “Mmmm . . . brains.”
Kibum ended up spending the rest of the day listening to Kyuhyun quote Shaun of the Dead and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. It was almost enough to keep his mind off of how attractive the weird boy looked, even with his mouth hanging open in disbelief.
No. Especially then. About halfway through math, Kibum gave it up and let his mind wander to broad shoulders and a guiless face with ageless eyes . . .
---
“Hi!”
Kibum looked up from the book that he was reading, his glasses slipping down his nose. The face was too blurry to recognize; he pulled the lenses back into place and found himself staring at the weird guy from the day before.
The really hot weird guy.
The hot, weird guy that had somehow managed to find him at the coffee shoppe with the big, comfy chairs that he liked to study in after school. (The fact that Kyuhyun worked there and got him free lattes might have been another reason to hang out there.)
Kibum would wait to pass judgement on whether or not that was creepy.
“I never got to apologize for knocking you over yesterday,” the boy said, smiling, and still very much in his face.
“I ran into you,” Kibum replied. He hoped he was keeping a straight face, and not, you know. Blushing like a preteen girl sitting next to her first crush.
This wasn’t even his first crush. This wasn’t even a crush! Kibum was allowed to think that someone was attractive, but after just one day and a chance meeting, that was way, way too fast and way too illogical for him. He liked order, almost as much as he hated the cold. And what he was feeling at the moment was certainly not orderly.
The boy frowned, and the expression was still attractive. “But I could have caught you! I could have stopped us, and you wouldn’t have scraped your hand up!” Kibum warily pulled the sleeve of his oversized sweater over the large bandage on his palm as the boy plopped into the seat next to him, looking more and more like an excited puppy. “I have come to apologize, and to make it up to you. Your friend told me you’re not from around here, so I’m going to show you the best parts of Seoul the right way!” He dragged Kibum out of his seat by the arm, and lead him out the door.
Kibum wondered vaguely if he was about to be kidnapped and sold as a sex slave overseas, but on his way out the door, he caught a glipse of Kyuhyun’s smirk, as the other boy smiled and waved from his spot behind the cash register.
If Kibum survived this, he decided, Kyuhyun would not.
---
For a while, it seemed just what Donghae said it would be. A whirl-wind tour of Seoul, the back alleys and the family run restaurants and the city parks and the skyline at night. Kibum almost imagined he could be enjoying himself, especially when he watched Donghae with all his ageless innocence as he pointed out oddity after oddity.
But then they ran into that other part of city life that Kibum was not particularly fond of. A shadow detached itself from a wall nearby, and there was a flash of metal and Kibum could only freeze when Donghae asked what was wrong, could only stare in shock when the metal bounced off of his shoulder as if it had struck steel.
In a movement faster than Kibum could follow, the would-be attacker was sailing through the air, only to land in a nearby dumpster. “Nothing but net!” Donghae shouted, spinning in a quick victory circle, before he notice Kibum, still staring.
Kibum’s brain had slipped gears a bit like an old bicycle, the pedals smacking him in the legs as he tried to back away and rationalize what had just happened. But it was to the point where he was really hoping Donghae ruffied him and he was not seeing what clearly had to be a hallucination straight from the days that his sister had tried to get him to read that tweenage wangst-fest that passed for a novel. . . .
“I can explain-” Donghae began, beginning to look panicked.
Kibum plugged his ears, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care, as long as you don’t sparkle.”
Kibum didn’t hear a reply, and he slowly pulled his hands away, opening his eyes. Donghae looked more than slightly downtrodden. Oh, no . . . “Would you still love me if I did?”
“Wait, love?” Too much, too soon. “What, I don’t even . . .” Kibum sighed, trying to collect his thoughts one more time. “Whatever. Let’s just forget this happened, and you can make it up to me on our second date.”
It was Donghae’s turn to mentally backpedal. “Date?”
“If that’s what this is . . . ?”
“Yes!” Donghae nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, it is!”
“Ok. Good.”
“Yeah.”
“So . . . I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah!” Donghae jogged up to Kibum, still looking sheepish. “But, uh. Can I walk you home?”
---
a/n - I had looked over this the first time I posted it for the contest, but there were still so many errors and I couldn't just go in and fix them and it bothered me for the entire month. Now that they're fixed, the world is at peace, and I don't feel like such a loser for having not posted anything in months.
Genre: Parody, humor, AU
Rating: PG 13
Pairing: KiHae
Summary: Kibum just wanted a chance to start over with his dad. No one ever asked the weirdest vampire in Seoul to follow him around. Well, with Kyuhyun, there was always that possibility. But Kibum really thought he had the magnae better trained than that.
a/n: I wrote this for the contest in Miracle, but I wanted it on my own journal. And I wanted a chance to fix some errors I had found while reading over it as well. Maybe I'll even write up an afterward or something for it, but maybe not. Still, it was a fun piece to write, even if I didn't win anything for it.
And if you haven't seen the movie 'Vampires Suck,' do it. Do it now.
---
Kibum couldn’t exactly say what it was that had driven him to leave all of his family and friends and life California to live with his dad in Seoul. His parents were divorced, and not amicably, but it wasn’t like he didn’t get to see the man.
It was Seoul, after all, and not some backwater mountain town in the middle of nowhere. His dad had a freaking awesome job, and got to fly out pretty much whenever he wanted and say it was for work when really all they would be doing would be jet skiing or something.
But never actual skiing. Kibum freaking hated snow. He lived in California for a reason. If his mother had decided to move somewhere actually cold more often the Seoul, he couldn’t say he would be living with her.
Which brought him back to his current predicament.
He was in Seoul.
To stay.
Supposedly by his own free will.
And the sky did not look promising.
“I hate the cold,” he groaned, dragging his suitcase angrily behind him. A passing security person in a crisp uniform looked at him oddly. “I freaking hate the cold!” he shouted in Korean. He didn’t care if he was arrested. Maybe they’d send him back to California. Maybe they didn’t want whatever disease had eaten away at his mind to the point where he thought that coming here in the middle of winter would be a good idea. He continued grumbling such things to himself as he dragged his suitcase away from the terminal, not caring when it tried to flip over, only cursing and continuing to drag it. He kicked the ground, he kicked the door as he passed it, and he thought about kicking a taxi when he finally stopped outside, shivering in his sweater.
Throwing a tantrum would not get him to his dad’s apartment any faster, he tried to tell himself. But that didn’t stop the feeling that his teeth might be ground to stubs by the time that anyone came to pick him up from all his shivering. He rubbed furiously at his arms, wondering if he could stop long enough to pull out his coat before he was turned into an icicle.
He was saved from making such a decision, though, when a black sedan pulled up to the curb in front of him. He knew it was trying for the ‘inconspicuous’ look, but really the effect was more like Lady Gaga hanging out at a Nascar race. You could tell just what didn’t belong. All the brightly colored taxies were reflected in the black paint and darkened windows, and Kibum got a good look at his post-twenty-four-hour-plane-ride damage. His hair was sticking out at odd angles, his oversized sweater hanging halfway off of his shoulder, and was that drool? Kibum wiped at his mouth furiously, barely managing to get the last bit as the window rolled down.
“Are you coming or would you rather I fetch you a makeup kit so you can powder your nose?” the driver said, his mouth curling into a sneer.
Kibum stared at him for a moment. “Who did you steal this from?”
“Kibummie recognizes me!” the other man shouted. Well. Man was a relative term. Cho Kyuhyun would have liked to believe he was born on Krypton but the only alien race he was the heir to were the Nerds. Gender between cultures that different was a question for the anthropologists to answer.
“Just because I live in America doesn’t mean you can drop the honorifics,” Kibum sighed, jerking open the door and tossing his bag in the back seat. At least Kyuhyun kept the car warm. He reached around to the side of the door - the seat warmers! - and suddenly it was good to be home.
Kyuhyun just chuckled as he tore out of the terminal parking garage. “Do you make your hoes call you oppa?”
“Someone should really teach you to shut your mouth.” Kibum pulled his feet up onto the leather seats, leaning heavily against the window. Maybe he could get a nap in before he had to go through the required greetings and dinners and parties and all the weird people that his dad knew.
“I’m sorry,” Kyuhyun sighed, leaning back in his seat as if he wasn’t tearing up the pavement. Seriously, weren’t there any cops around? More silence greeted Kibum though, and he was not going to waste it hoping that Kyuhyun would get pulled over.
Kyuhyun killed the silence soon enough himself, anyway. “So . . . do you make your hoes call you hyung?”
Kibum, contorted in his seat as he was, was in the perfect position to kick Kyuhyun in the shoulder. He took full advantage of this. But after a few minutes of non-stop whining, the magnae was only laughing harder, and Kibum only wanted the day to end.
---
“Home Sweet Home!” Kyuhyun shouted, jumping up onto the walls of the courtyard, his arms spread wide as he surveyed the building before him.
There was really nothing to look at, Kibum decided. The high school looked the same as it did when he and Kyuhyun played tag and threw rocks at the lacross players. He packed some of the snow into a ball, taking aim at Kyuhyun’s head, but the other boy jumped down too quickly and the projectile wizzed overhead, splatting uselessly onto the pavement.
Snow was always useless. Even when he made the effort to get past their differences, it let him down. He tried to shake the cold out of his hands as Kyuhyun laughed again, the annoying ‘I told you so,’ laugh, a classic in the ‘Famous Witticisms of Cho Kyuhyun.’ Kibum wondered, not for the first time, if Kyuhyun was the reason he decided to move to America.
“Come on,” the younger boy shouted, turning around to walk backwards and wave Kibum forward. “Don’t you want to meet all your old friends, and brag about being multilingual, and sneak into the-”
“You must be breaking at least a dozen international laws just for breathing. No one should be this happy in the morning, and no one should be this happy to go to school.”
Kyuhyun mimed being shot by an arrow, falling to the ground in a very long, drawn out, dramatic death full of death rattles and flailing limbs. “Hyung, you wound me!!”
Kibum stepped over him, continuing on his way into school. Or he tried too, but the magnae grabbed the leg of his pants, Kibum slipped on a slick patch of pavement, and crashed into another student. Sturdy shoulders and a uniform jacket was about all he saw before both of them were crashing to the ground in a mess of limbs.
He hissed as the palm of his left hand scraped against the pavement. It didn’t look like too much of a mess, but the sting wouldn’t go away as he tried to shake it off, groaning and rolling off of his impromptu landing pad, mumbling apologies as he tried to drown out that annoying magnae laugh intermingled with ‘hyung, are you ok?’
Kibum waved Kyuhyun’s hand away, pushing himself to a sitting possition . . . just in time to see the student he ran in to push himself on his stomach, across the ice, shouting, “Whee!! I’m a penguin!!”
“Donghae, that’s not - penguins eat fish!” one of the boy’s friends shouted, chasing after him and somehow managing to keep his footing on the ice. Angelic, elfin features and a frazzled expression. And not a freaking hair out of place.
Kibum decided it would be better to check his sanity at the door when the other boy looked up, horrified. What were they? Maybe it would be better to not find out. He held out a hand for Kyuhyun to haul him to his feet. “Yay. School,” Kibum sighed, finally walking towards the building, as Kyuhyun hovered behind him. “I can already sense the stupid just waiting to pour into my brain.”
Kyuhyun threw an arm around his shoulder. “Mmmm . . . brains.”
Kibum ended up spending the rest of the day listening to Kyuhyun quote Shaun of the Dead and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. It was almost enough to keep his mind off of how attractive the weird boy looked, even with his mouth hanging open in disbelief.
No. Especially then. About halfway through math, Kibum gave it up and let his mind wander to broad shoulders and a guiless face with ageless eyes . . .
---
“Hi!”
Kibum looked up from the book that he was reading, his glasses slipping down his nose. The face was too blurry to recognize; he pulled the lenses back into place and found himself staring at the weird guy from the day before.
The really hot weird guy.
The hot, weird guy that had somehow managed to find him at the coffee shoppe with the big, comfy chairs that he liked to study in after school. (The fact that Kyuhyun worked there and got him free lattes might have been another reason to hang out there.)
Kibum would wait to pass judgement on whether or not that was creepy.
“I never got to apologize for knocking you over yesterday,” the boy said, smiling, and still very much in his face.
“I ran into you,” Kibum replied. He hoped he was keeping a straight face, and not, you know. Blushing like a preteen girl sitting next to her first crush.
This wasn’t even his first crush. This wasn’t even a crush! Kibum was allowed to think that someone was attractive, but after just one day and a chance meeting, that was way, way too fast and way too illogical for him. He liked order, almost as much as he hated the cold. And what he was feeling at the moment was certainly not orderly.
The boy frowned, and the expression was still attractive. “But I could have caught you! I could have stopped us, and you wouldn’t have scraped your hand up!” Kibum warily pulled the sleeve of his oversized sweater over the large bandage on his palm as the boy plopped into the seat next to him, looking more and more like an excited puppy. “I have come to apologize, and to make it up to you. Your friend told me you’re not from around here, so I’m going to show you the best parts of Seoul the right way!” He dragged Kibum out of his seat by the arm, and lead him out the door.
Kibum wondered vaguely if he was about to be kidnapped and sold as a sex slave overseas, but on his way out the door, he caught a glipse of Kyuhyun’s smirk, as the other boy smiled and waved from his spot behind the cash register.
If Kibum survived this, he decided, Kyuhyun would not.
---
For a while, it seemed just what Donghae said it would be. A whirl-wind tour of Seoul, the back alleys and the family run restaurants and the city parks and the skyline at night. Kibum almost imagined he could be enjoying himself, especially when he watched Donghae with all his ageless innocence as he pointed out oddity after oddity.
But then they ran into that other part of city life that Kibum was not particularly fond of. A shadow detached itself from a wall nearby, and there was a flash of metal and Kibum could only freeze when Donghae asked what was wrong, could only stare in shock when the metal bounced off of his shoulder as if it had struck steel.
In a movement faster than Kibum could follow, the would-be attacker was sailing through the air, only to land in a nearby dumpster. “Nothing but net!” Donghae shouted, spinning in a quick victory circle, before he notice Kibum, still staring.
Kibum’s brain had slipped gears a bit like an old bicycle, the pedals smacking him in the legs as he tried to back away and rationalize what had just happened. But it was to the point where he was really hoping Donghae ruffied him and he was not seeing what clearly had to be a hallucination straight from the days that his sister had tried to get him to read that tweenage wangst-fest that passed for a novel. . . .
“I can explain-” Donghae began, beginning to look panicked.
Kibum plugged his ears, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care, as long as you don’t sparkle.”
Kibum didn’t hear a reply, and he slowly pulled his hands away, opening his eyes. Donghae looked more than slightly downtrodden. Oh, no . . . “Would you still love me if I did?”
“Wait, love?” Too much, too soon. “What, I don’t even . . .” Kibum sighed, trying to collect his thoughts one more time. “Whatever. Let’s just forget this happened, and you can make it up to me on our second date.”
It was Donghae’s turn to mentally backpedal. “Date?”
“If that’s what this is . . . ?”
“Yes!” Donghae nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, it is!”
“Ok. Good.”
“Yeah.”
“So . . . I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah!” Donghae jogged up to Kibum, still looking sheepish. “But, uh. Can I walk you home?”
---
a/n - I had looked over this the first time I posted it for the contest, but there were still so many errors and I couldn't just go in and fix them and it bothered me for the entire month. Now that they're fixed, the world is at peace, and I don't feel like such a loser for having not posted anything in months.