[oneshot] live wire
Title: live wire
Pairing: baekhyun/kai
Rating: nc17
Genre: crack, ar
Warnings: swearing, sex, mild body horror, mild violence, oblique reference to underage sex
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: alternate reality where baekhyun is a vampire, that's it, that's the premise. predebut fic. ft. kim taehyun of DICKPUNKS fame (with my profuse apologies @__@). this is literally all crayoninks' fault. 6,710 words.
The morning after Baekhyun signs with SM Entertainment, he swears off human blood.
Technically, it isn't part of his contract. There's a clause buried deep on page seventeen about synthesized blood provisions in the event that a trainee needs them, but the rep he'd spoken to assured him that management generally displayed tacit leniency toward live feeding. Don't ask don't tell for vampires, he'd said, canines flashing when he smiled. We'll take care of you. Baekhyun nodded his head and signed the damn papers. SM's probably the only company with the means to support supernatural beings that also aspire to be idols. He'd be an idiot not to.
The day after, though-near the end of April, weeks after Baekhyun's graduated from high school-a young C-list actor named Kwak Dongho is found dead in his Apgujeong apartment. The story is quietly picked up by Newsen and Naver and quietly circulated out again with minimal fuss, but Baekhyun scrolls through the pictures and sees the signs. It wasn't an overdose like the coroners are saying. Baekhyun sees the cut of his teeth and the pale shine of his unblemished skin, the curious way the man's chest had sank in on itself postmortem, gleaned from the public autopsy reports-and he knows. He'd been killed for trying to feed off the wrong person. He'd been killed for being a vampire.
Baekhyun isn't great at self-control, but he also doesn't care for purposeful self-sabotage when what he really wants is so close he can taste it in the air, like the metallic tang of warm blood. Synth is shit, but it keeps alright at room temperature. It's better, Baekhyun thinks, to protect himself.
He moves in to EXO K's dorm in the summer, dogging the heels of July's fiercest heat wave. On the third day, he wakes up with his dick aching in his boxers. It doesn't occur to him that it's abnormal until he remembers, through the dissipating haze of sleep, that he hasn't had this particular problem since he was fourteen. Pre-bite.
It'd been Taehyun who turned him. One of Baekbum's friends, four years older and lead vocalist in a band, some rock number called Dickpunks that sold out shows in Hongdae on the regular. Of course Baekhyun developed a stupid crush, and of course he'd said yes to the bite, though his first lucid thought upon waking (after being bed-ridden for days as his body adjusted) was, "You couldn't have done it after I'd grown a little taller?"
"That's a common misconception," Taehyun told him, amused. "Your body can still change, you know? It just takes longer."
"How much longer?" Baekhyun insisted. Taehyun just laughed and ruffled his hair before he could duck away. "I don't want to be stuck at a hundred seventy forever. And what about-" Sex? he wanted to ask. Too chickenshit, though. "Morning wood," he muttered instead, making a face.
"No blood, remember?" Taehyun said, tapping the side of Baekhyun's head. "That means no inconvenient boners."
Baekhyun inquired, flushing, if that meant no boners ever again for the rest of his life, and after a dry comment about his priorities Taehyun had taken him on a highly illegal pub-crawl for fresh blood.
"It only tastes good when they're willing," he said. Drilled it into Baekhyun's head like the steady rhythm of bass reverberating through his chest. The difference between a vampire and a beast. Consent and coercion. Taehyun's eyes flashed when Baekhyun sank his teeth into the smooth, proffered curve of another boy's neck and drank so much his entire field of vision went red. So that was the first time. The first time Baekhyun got an erection from someone else's blood, the first time his whole body felt like it was on fire after becoming-well. Undead. The first time he made a person come so hard they almost passed out afterwards, though that might've just been the blood deficit taking its toll.
Synth isn't half as good as real blood, isn't nearly as heady or potent, but maybe the stuff the company stocks is better quality than what his parents had at home. At any rate, the half-liter he drank before bed last night is only kicking in now, throbbing against his leg. He breathes in through his nose and squints across the room. Chanyeol's still sleeping, sprawled out across his bed, an arm and a leg dangling off the edge.
Now is as good a time as any: an hour until breakfast, long before they have to be at HQ for practice. Baekhyun rolls over underneath his comforter and presses his crotch into the mattress. He stays like that for a minute, face buried in his pillow, and inhales the smell of shampoo and fabric softener. His head's still cottony. He shakes the cobwebs away, bangs falling in his eyes, jaw cracking in a yawn. After a couple of slow ruts into the bed, he licks his palm, slides a hand in his pants, and curls it around his cock.
His fingers are cool but his dick's hot, rigid against his stomach as he tugs it up past the elastic. Saliva slicks the way down. On the other side of the room, Chanyeol lets out a loud snore. Baekhyun jumps, hand clenching around his erection, and moans low against the fabric of his pillowcase at the friction, tongue caught between his teeth. He bucks up into the circle of his thumb and forefinger, hips snapping in time with each flick of his wrist. A thin trickle of sweat beads along his hairline. It's the only time his body temperature gets high enough for this, and one droplet rolls down the side of his face, tickles the skin. The cocoon of his blankets fills with the musky smell of precome. He spits in his hand and pumps faster, reaches down with the other to scrape a gentle nail along his balls, and-fuck, there it is. His abdomen clenches hard when he comes, throat tight, limbs tensing as he shoots his load into the sheets.
If Chanyeol notices the pervading smell of sex when Joonmyun barges in to rouse them, he doesn't let on.
The pleasant tingle in Baekhyun's stomach lasts through breakfast. Seunghwan hands him a bottle of synth disguised as banana milk and Baekhyun grins, says, "Cute," underneath his breath. Seunghwan rolls his eyes and tosses a sandwich at his head. Baekhyun snatches it out of the air and offers it to Sehun, who lights up like a firework. Kyungsoo raises his eyebrows. "Growing boys need to eat," Baekhyun explains solemnly, unscrewing the cap of his bottle. "It's too late for us."
Kyungsoo snorts inelegantly into his fishcake. Chanyeol reaches across the table for a high five.
Unless he counts questionable renditions of hit girl group songs for the entertainment of all and sundry, Baekhyun has never really danced seriously before this. It's been four months and walking into the studio is still kind of intimidating-especially now, when the music starts and everyone else is in perfect formation without him.
He's got two sets of choreography to learn and one more being developed on the way. Baekhyun tries to keep up. Tries to twist his body into position. He doesn't fatigue easy, and the moves aren't difficult, but he'd spent half his energy jerking off in the morning. His reaction time isn't terrific. Sehun bumps into him in the middle of History, a bony elbow to the gut, and Baekhyun folds like a house of cards, dazed and dizzy, the cold floorboards sticking to his skin.
When he lifts his head Chanyeol's staring at him like he doesn't know whether to laugh or look sympathetic, the ass. Sehun leans over him in an uncharacteristic show of concern. "Hyung, are you okay?"
"Yeah," he wheezes, sitting up. "I'm good." Jaewon bites his thumbnail and calls a water break. Baekhyun slides over to his duffel bag, unzips the front pocket and reaches in for another bottle of synth. "Just let me-" Digest. "Recharge."
He staggers to his feet and nearly pitches headfirst into someone's chest. Baekhyun's nose fills first with the smell of clean sweat and then, like a brick to the head, the singing, vibrant scent of blood. Baekhyun sways a little, inhaling deeply. His gaze catches on the tan column of a neck, pauses for a moment at the jumping jugular. Eventually, he drags it up with effort.
Jongin peers back at him, eyes half-lidded and assessing, damp, flyaway tufts of hair sticking up on his head.
Everyone knows Jongin, of course. Baekhyun'd seen him around the building even before they started living in the same dorm, mostly in the practice rooms, sometimes in the cafeteria with his friends. SM's star trainee, EXO's future lead dancer. He usually kept to his own, and for all Baekhyun's sociable tendencies Jongin has the kind of default expression that makes him seem benignly detached at best and aloof and unapproachable at worst. Baekhyun thought he'd wait. (He also thought Chanyeol was fucking with him when he said Jongin was a year younger than they were. "But he's so-" "Yeah, dude. I know. Don't worry, that's just his face. You get used to it.")
Since Baekhyun moved in, they've spoken maybe twice. Once to ask when Baekhyun would be done with the bathroom, and the second time to pass the gochujang at dinner. He's also been treated to Jongin's sleepy thousand-yard stare. They've certainly never been this close.
He's close enough now that Baekhyun could lean over and press his nose against Jongin's pulse if he really wanted to. Which he does. There are a lot of things he'd like to do with Jongin's neck. They crowd in Baekhyun's head, build up in the fuzzy pressure behind his eyes. Jongin's blood smells so sweet the air's almost choking with it.
Oh no, Baekhyun thinks, light-headed. Oh fuck. "Hey," he croaks, over the dull ringing in his ears. His throat is so dry. "What's up?"
Jongin's eyes flick to the synth in his hand. "You should drink water, hyung," he says, voice gruff. "Not banana milk. It's not good for you so soon after overexerting yourself."
"Sure," Baekhyun says faintly. Jongin blinks, sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, and shuffles away. Baekhyun remembers to breathe again.
There are two types of people that know about the vampirism: the ones who know and don't give a fuck, and the ones who know and are afraid. In high school, the only two people Baekhyun told had also been the ones that let him feed from them. Kyungjae, who was tall and could beatbox and didn't mind the mutual dick-touching that invariably ensued, and Hakhun, who was the star striker on the soccer team and got hurt so often that he needed the healing properties of the bite almost as much as Baekhyun needed the food. Mutually beneficial blood-letting.
Baekhyun's parents banned Taehyun from the house for a couple of months after they found out what he'd done, but he managed to charm himself back into their good graces in the end. Born vampires had that way about them. An innate likeability. Maybe Baekhyun's contracted a little bit of it too, because if he'd been popular in middle school, it was nothing compared to his social life at Jungwon High. He enjoys being liked; at school, that translated into joining a band and performing in front of screaming audiences. Even now, it often means instant camaraderie.
It's always the people that find out by accident who are scared. First year Baekhyun was stupid and reckless; after hagwon, he backed Kyungjae into an alley outside the FamilyMart, sharp teeth nibbling a line along his collarbone before breaking the skin. When Baekhyun pulled away, incisors dripping, two jjangs from a neighboring high school had rocks in their hands ready for him.
He'd forced Kyungjae to run. Baekhyun hobbled home with a bloody gash blooming across his temple. Not the worst outcome. The hapkido had caught them by surprise, and his skin healed good as new the next morning-but it stays with him. Not everyone is understanding. People will hate you for who you are, and sometimes you just have to keep your head down and roll with it.
Keeping it a secret means he has to get creative about a lot of other things. Like how to go about explaining his weird diet, why his hands are always so cold, the fact that he never tans or burns. Why he prefers giving casual head rather than receiving it. Why he never asks anyone to return the favor.
Baekhyun's fairly certain that telling his future bandmates about his condition isn't exactly in the cards here. Neither is throwing Jongin up against a wall and sucking on his right carotid until he lets Baekhyun bite him.
Avoidance, then. Simple. Effective. Out of smell, out of mind.
Except avoiding someone you live-eat-work with isn't quite so easy when you're about to debut in the same group as them, and especially not when they've done a complete 180 and decided, okay, we're going to be friends now.
Not that it's completely terrible. Jongin is pretty cute when he wants to be. His whole face scrunches up when he smiles. He fights over food with half the band, complains when people take too long in the shower in the morning, stages hostile takeovers of the couch when he wants to commandeer the television. He likes touching people. "He's just slow to warm up," Chanyeol says, after Baekhyun staggers out of one of Jongin's friendly chokeholds and sucks in a huge breath. "It means he likes you."
Fucking great, Baekhyun thinks, and feels the arm around his neck for the rest of the day.
Baekhyun trains steadily through August, comes early and stays late so he can keep going after the others are long gone. He can concentrate better alone, or one-on-one when one of the instructors stays with him, and his dancing improves so much that even Jaewon's impressed. "He's better than you are," he tells Chanyeol drily. "What've you been doing for the past four years?"
Chanyeol wipes an invisible tear from the corner of his eye and presses a palm to his chest. "Hyung, I can't help it that I'm tall." He yelps when Baekhyun digs an elbow into his ribs.
Baekhyun ducks away from Joonmyun's disciplinary cuff to the neck. "Height jokes are only funny when we make them," he says, linking arms with Kyungsoo.
"Get out of here, all of you," Jaewon says, laughing.
Jongin tosses an arm over Sehun's shoulder as they leave, and loops the other one around Baekhyun's waist before he can escape. Baekhyun's stomach drops out, every sense attuned to the fingers settled on his hip and the pervasive smell of blood pumping through Jongin's body. It'd be so easy to just turn around and-
This is bullshit, he thinks, trying to ground his focus in anger. Calm down. It's just blood. You had some this morning.
He doesn't realize they've gotten to the recording studio until he feels Jongin's arm unwind and sees Jongdae rapping a knuckle on the thick glass of the booth, mouth curled into a grin. Their vocal instructor ushers Baekhyun and Kyungsoo onto the couch. Jongin sends them a wave and disappears back out the door with Chanyeol.
"You look like shit," Jongdae notes when he slides out to join them. "And you didn't even have three hours of Chinese class this morning."
Baekhyun snorts, scrubs a hand over his face. "M'fine," he mumbles. "Just tired."
He finally edges in a Skype date on his next day off. Taehyun's hair is the first thing that comes into view, crimped and blood-orange, and then the rest of his face follows.
"Hey," Baekhyun starts, grimacing into his webcam. "Sorry about this. I know you're prepping for the new album-"
"Eurgh," Taehyun interrupts. The video feed lags a little as he waves his hand. "Don't apologize. You being docile weirds me out. Just tell me what's wrong."
Baekhyun nibbles on his index finger. "Where do I even start?"
"The beginning," Taehyun suggests, eyebrow cocked. "Trainee life getting you down?"
"No, that's-" Baekhyun exhales. "That's all fine. I. There's this boy, see-"
"I thought you said you had a problem?"
"Let me finish, asshole," Baekhyun snaps. "This guy-it's fucking absurd. I've never reacted like this to anybody. I can barely think around him; his blood's like fucking catnip for vampires." Baekhyun snorts. "Vampnip."
"Sounds like it could be really kinky niche genre of porn," Taehyun says thoughtfully, tapping a finger on his chin. "Is he hot?"
Jongin's face floods into his mind's eye: the perfect bow of his mouth, the double-line of his eyelids when they close, lashes casting shadows across the apple of his cheekbones under the living room lamp's slanting light. "Yes," Baekhyun says miserably. "It's kind of unbearable."
"What's stopping you from following through?"
"Really?" Baekhyun scowls. "He's my bandmate. How am I supposed to even have that conversation? Hey, Jongin. You smell so good that I want to bleed you dry. Also, could you please help me master this piece of choreography?" He pauses, biting a fingernail. "And after what happened with Dongho in April-"
"Yeah," Taehyun says, gaze sharp. "I know."
Baekhyun sighs heavily, pushes a hand through his hair. "I don't have time for this right now. I need to think about-training. About debut. About not fucking this up." Outside, the front door slams open and closed. Baekhyun stiffens for a moment before slumping over his keyboard again. "I just want to make it stop without-without having to give anything up."
Taehyun's eyes soften through the grainy feed. "Listen," he says, leaning forward earnestly. "I don't have an answer for you, but I can ask Mom and Dad if you want. They might know how to fix it."
Taehyun's parents were both career vampires. The second time Baekhyun met Taehyun's mother, she'd been so busy trying to coordinate a search-and-rescue mission for a missing coven in Gwangju that she didn't even realize they'd already been introduced to each other.
This shit's far too petty for them. Baekhyun sighs again, shakes his head.
"Don't bother," he murmurs, flopping back in bed. "I'll figure it out myself."
It gets worse. These days, Baekhyun can smell Jongin all the damn time. Jongin'll pick absently at a spot on his neck and his blood will rise to the surface, floating out to reel Baekhyun in like some morbid version of a scratch-and-sniff sticker. He almost liked it better when Jongin didn't care. It made everything a lot easier to ignore.
The AC in their entire dorm building goes out for a couple of days in August. During the week it takes to fix, they start loitering behind at the SM building after practice to avoid the heat, slumped listlessly in the dance studio under the whirring fans or plastered chest-first against the floorboards. Baekhyun's alright: his body regulates temperature on its own, keeps him cold as a Popsicle.
"Do Abracadabra," Jongdae calls out, hanging from the barre. DJ Kyungsoo clicks over dutifully on his iPod. At the front of the room, Baekhyun rolls his eyes and slides into the first verse, hips swaying, grinning when he hears the others snorting into their palms over the music. You can tell a lot about a person from what girl group dance they want you to imitate. Sehun asks for Gee; Kris goes for Bad Girl Good Girl (Baekhyun just rolls around on the floor for that one). Yixing asks for KARA's butt dance and hops in to join him after the first pump of Baekhyun's arm.
"Hyung, just do a sexy wave or whatever," Jongin says when it's his turn. "Everyone else took the good ones." Chanyeol's got an arm slung around his back, and he stares into the phone in Jongin's hands, ready to capture it on camera. "Say cheese."
Baekhyun rolls his eyes. "Fuck you all," he says cheerfully, and does it anyway.
Jongin snakes a comfortable arm around Baekhyun's waist as they're walking out. If you keep touching me, Baekhyun thinks, trying to hold his breath, I'm going to do something I'll regret.
Jongin radiates warmth. Human warmth, human blood. Human water bottle Kim Jongin. Baekhyun's eyelids droop. He feels, suddenly, too top-heavy to stay upright. He needs-
"You're so cold, hyung," Jongin murmurs. His grip tightens. Baekhyun finds himself with his chin tucked over Jongin's shoulder, riding up the dorm elevator, with no recollection of how they got there at all. Baekhyun's hand lands heavily on the knob of Jongin's spine. It stiffens under his fingers. He struggles to keep his canines in check.
It's hot as sin in the dorm, and all Baekhyun can do is shiver. "Building management said the AC will be fixed by tomorrow," Seunghwan tells them, before disappearing into his room with two of the cold compresses they use for Jongin's back and leaving them to fend for themselves.
Chanyeol and Sehun hurry to the showers first. The floor lamp gets knocked over in the rush, and Joonmyun sighs, cleans up after their mess. Baekhyun ends up on the sofa, nose stuck in a book, trying desperately to ignore Jongin's socked feet brushing periodically against his calves. Baekhyun chugs two bottles of synth in a row, which gradually warms him up. He's about to start in on a third when Jongin reaches out and snatches it out of his hand.
"What the fuck," he says, poking Jongin's rib. "Give it back."
"Let me have some," Jongin says, grinning, and puts the neck of the bottle to his mouth. Baekhyun watches it happen in slow motion: the backward tilt of Jongin's head, the part of his lips. The way his eyes dance as the liquid hits his tongue-and then-
He splutters, gasps, and spills the rest of the bottle's contents in his lap. Baekhyun dives for the box of tissues on the coffee table and holds it out wordlessly.
"Shit," Jongin says, scrubbing at his tongue with a tissue. "That definitely wasn't banana milk."
Baekhyun's throat constricts. "Maybe it went bad," he manages. He grabs a bunch of tissue himself and starts dabbing Jongin's lap.
Jongin's breath catches when Baekhyun's fingers skate underneath the hem of his tank shirt to wipe his stomach. Interesting. Baekhyun furrows his brow and presses more firmly. Jongin's abdomen tenses. His eyes dart to Baekhyun's face, settle on his mouth. Baekhyun brushes his thumb against Jongin's navel and watches an inexorable tent form in Jongin's sweatpants as he blushes.
Ah, Baekhyun thinks. That ringing in his ears is back. I see. This he can do. This, he understands. His hands curl around Jongin's hips. Maybe substituting blood with sex would take the edge off whenever Jongin was around him, would diminish the overwhelming need to take and take and take until there was nothing left.
Baekhyun carefully crawls forward and pushes Jongin back so his neck hits the armrest. He can hear Kyungsoo puttering around in the kitchen. Joonmyun's vanished into his room, probably preparing to shower next. Anybody could walk out at any time and see them here, Baekhyun crouched over Jongin's crotch, knees dipping into the cushion, pulling Jongin's briefs down with his sweats-but maybe that's the best part. The thrill of it.
No-that's not true. The best part is Jongin's crescent eyes widening in wonder, staring at him like he isn't sure whether or not this is actually happening. He looks really lovely like this, legs trembling with anticipation, breath just edging toward a pant, damp shirt rucked halfway up his chest. Hair fanning out against the tan leather. Dick curved up to bump into his stomach, the head flushed a deep red. Baekhyun dips down and takes it into his mouth, just the tip. He smiles around it when hears a quiet gasp tumble out. Jongin's hands land on his shoulders. So warm. "I'll try not to use teeth," he murmurs, garbled, and works more of Jongin's erection inside.
It's so hot it almost burns the roof of Baekhyun's mouth. He hums, peering up through his eyelashes. One of Jongin's hands flies up so he can bite around the knuckles to keep from groaning. Baekhyun keeps moving forward, sucking insistently, hollowing his cheeks out until his nose bumps into the wiry bit of hair above the base. He stays there for a moment before pulling back. Jongin tries to follow with his hips but Baekhyun holds him down with ease as he nips down the side, tongue darting out to flatten against the skin.
"Hyung, please-"
"Hmm?" Baekhyun takes him in all the way again, nose jamming into his gut, and Jongin wails, back arching off the couch.
He sinks his fingers into Baekhyun's hair and holds his face there. Baekhyun can't breathe, can't do anything but contract his throat, saliva leaking out of the corners of his mouth and dripping down his chin. "I'm gonna-"
He comes, and Baekhyun swallows it down, ears ringing so loud he barely registers Jongin's strangled moan. His burgeoning orgasm is coupled with a surge of blood that smells so sweet Baekhyun feels like he's going to thrum out of his own skin, or pass out. Or both. He tears himself away like he's moving through molasses, muscles dumb and heavy. Jongin slips out from beneath his lips with a wet pop. Baekhyun smacks his lips together, the inside of his mouth sticky and bitter, and tucks Jongin's dick back in his pants.
Jongin's eyes trail down Baekhyun's torso as he sits back. "Do you want me to-?"
"It's okay," Baekhyun says, scuttling off the couch, hands bunching in his pockets. Jongin's face falls. It's on the tip of Baekhyun's tongue, the reason-can't get it up unless you let me suck your blood-but Sehun takes that moment to push out of the bathroom, tracking water onto the living room floor. Jongin jumps, a guilty expression flitting across his face. Baekhyun turns and escapes into the steam.
Despite that first awkward dénouement, it keeps happening. Over and over and over: in the practice rooms when they're the only two left behind, early in the morning with Jongin braced against the kitchen sink, on Jongin's bed when Kyungsoo's out with Chanyeol. Baekhyun's never been very good at impulse control, and Jongin doesn't ask any more questions, takes what Baekhyun gives him.
Joonmyun catches them once, going at it in the bathroom after everyone else has gone to sleep. Be careful is all he says, blinking exhaustion out of his eyes-and Baekhyun knows it's about the sex, but he can't help but think it's about the other thing, too.
Especially because the thirst for real blood gets a little better, for about a week, before it gets much, much worse. Like the vampire isn't sated by the shoot of Jongin's come down his throat anymore, knows Baekhyun isn't going to follow through on all the sex he's been having. By September, any time they're in the same building Baekhyun's struck by the smell of his blood, wrapping around his stomach and pulling him in when he's trying to focus on the stupid joke Chanyeol's telling or whatever ridiculousness Jongdae's up to this time. No amount of kissing or rimming or jerking off can fix this-Baekhyun bending toward Jongin like a dandelion in the wind, throat parched and itching.
At the end of the month, Jongin fucks his back up again during rehearsal. He'd been trying to do Two Moons choreo with Yixing and twisted too far into a turn. It's a worse sprain than usual. Baekhyun can smell the change from two floors down in the recording studio and almost cuts his tongue on his canines.
He could fix that. He could get up on his toes and bite Jongin's neck and suck all the bad blood out, could help him feel better in a different way, one that doesn't involve Baekhyun's mouth on Jongin's dick or his fingers up Jongin's ass.
Jongin's spread out on the couch when they return to the dorm, ice pack pressed to his back, hair wet. Baekhyun takes one look at him and shuffles to perch on the coffee table. "You okay?"
"Yeah," comes Jongin's wry reply, muffled by the way his face is turned into a cushion. "If by okay you mean excommunicated from the practice room for a week."
"It's for your own good."
Jongin grunts noncommittally. "If you say so, hyung."
Baekhyun stares down at his feet. "Are they going to take you to see someone?" he asks, at the same time Jongin lifts his head, expression guileless, and says, "It might help if you bit me," casual as you please, as if he's suggesting something as innocuous as it might help if you gave me a backrub or it might help if you kissed it better.
Baekhyun freezes. His fingers twitch on his knees, spine snapping straight, like someone's rammed a pick into the base of it. "What," he mumbles, holding Jongin's gaze, "are you saying?"
Kyungsoo floats by on his way to the bathroom, towel in hand. "He's saying bite him so he doesn't feel like shit anymore, idiot."
Baekhyun twists his head so fast to stare at him he's surprised he doesn't get fucking whiplash. "Am I missing something?"
"That's kind of a big question, hyung," comes Sehun's voice from the dining room table. Baekhyun sends him as unimpressed a look he can muster under the circumstances.
"You knew?" he asks, searching Jongin's face. "What? How?"
"Did you really think they wouldn't tell us we were debuting with a vampire?" Chanyeol says, head poking out their bedroom door. "And even if we didn't know, what else would we think when you never sweat? Never eat? Feel like death warmed over when we touch you? No heartbeat? Come on, dumbass." He retracts with a squeak when Baekhyun grabs the cushion underneath Jongin's head and throws it at him.
"What the fuck," says Baekhyun. "What the fuck?"
Jongin shrugs uncomfortably. "We thought you knew we knew. And, like, didn't want to talk about it, which is understandable, so we just. Never brought it up." He shifts on his stomach. Baekhyun smells a fresh wave of the hurt in his back, notes the involuntary wince before Jongin has the chance to hide it, and bites his lip.
"I'll give you two some privacy," Sehun says, waggling his eyebrows. Baekhyun wants to punch that look off his face.
"You should bite me, hyung," Jongin says earnestly when he's gone. "It's what you want, right?"
Baekhyun scrubs a hand over his mouth, still reeling. Tries to process everything again. They know. They're okay with it. Jongin's okay with it. He knows. Nobody is going to try and shove a stake through his heart, or whatever. All this emotional turmoil could've been skipped over if he'd just- "I want a lot of things, Jongin." He folds his hands in his lap. "That doesn't mean I can have them all."
Jongin sits up again with effort, the ice pack sliding onto the couch. A waft of blood, coppery and sweet, hits Baekhyun's nose. "I mean-this is what you need." His features shift into something more obstinate. "I want it, too." He probes his back with his fingers and grimaces. "I have needs."
It tastes best when they're willing, Taehyun's voice echoes in his head, and Jongin's so willing it's killing Baekhyun a little bit. Jongin's been willing since Baekhyun moved in with them, probably, and he was too stupid to notice. "I can't believe you knew this entire time," he whines, and Jongin rolls his eyes.
"I'm not an idiot," he says, crowding into Baekhyun's space. He grins. "Plus, what do you think Taemin is?"
Oh, Baekhyun thinks, I should've known, and then Jongin's kissing him, tongue slipping against his, hands reaching up his shirt. Baekhyun's halfway on top of him when Jongin pulls back, a string of saliva connecting their mouths.
"Come on, hyung," Jongin says, tilting back to bare his neck. His pupils are blown wide. "Do what you want."
Baekhyun balks, floundering in his hesitance. Jongin nuzzles his chin like a goddamn puppy. His heartbeat thumps. Baekhyun's canines protract, mouth watering. "Are you sure?" he chokes out.
Jongin laughs. "Just do it," he says, pulling Baekhyun flush against his chest.
Baekhyun bows his head and presses his lips to Jongin's fluttering pulse. Jongin sighs, craning his head to give him better access. He gasps when Baekhyun lets a sharpened canine skate across the warm skin, breaks it just a tad right above his common carotid, and flicks the tip of his tongue out to catch the bead of red that seeps out.
It's been at least half a year since he's had this. Real, human blood, rich and heavy, and of course one drop isn't enough. Baekhyun's held himself back for too long already.
"I'm sorry if this hurts," he says, and Jongin doesn't have time to do more than clench his fingers in Baekhyun's shirt before his teeth are sinking into Jongin's skin. Blood floods past Baekhyun's gums, slipping down his throat and filling him up until he's drowning in it, head spinning, dick stirring to life in his pants. Everything in the world files down to his mouth fastened against Jongin's neck, pulling the pain out of his back and turning it into pleasure.
Jongin goes loose beneath him. Baekhyun can feel something hard pressing against the underside of his thigh. He licks the wound closed and sits back on his haunches, sucking at the blood still staining his teeth. Jongin's half-lidded eyes stare up at him, breath whistling through his lips.
"I can fuck you now, you know," he says conversationally, and Jongin's startled gaze lands on his fly as Baekhyun unzips it and pulls his erection out over the edge of his underwear, pointer finger running down the shaft. "I mean. If you want-"
Jongin gathers Baekhyun in his arms and sweeps them both into his room before Baekhyun can even blink. He locks the door behind them. Poor Kyungsoo. Sexiled from his own dorm.
"I guess your back's all better," Baekhyun remarks, patting his arm. Jongin turns red, blood staining his cheeks. "That's good. Do you have lube?"
"Yeah," he says, voice cracking, and dumps Baekhyun unceremoniously onto the bed. "And. Um. Kyungsoo-hyung has condoms."
"Does he really," Baekhyun says, eyes crinkling. Jongin flushes even darker and mumbles something about finding them by accident when he was looking for one of his snapbacks.
When he resurfaces with the foil packet and bottle of lube, Baekhyun's stroking himself leisurely, head tossed back into the pillow. Jongin fumbles the condom package open and knocks Baekhyun's hand away to roll it onto his cock. Baekhyun flips them bodily. Jongin goes down with a whump, but he manages to hook a leg around Baekhyun's butt and topple him over, too.
"Calm down," he says, chuckling, and reaches for the lube. He dribbles some over his fingers as Jongin wiggles out of his sweats, a damp spot already spreading across the front of his boxers.
Baekhyun palms him through the fabric and Jongin whimpers, lower body pitching forward to rut against his hand. Baekhyun eases Jongin's underwear down, too, and gives his dick a couple of long pulls before positioning his slick fingers against Jongin's asshole. "Hurry up," Jongin demands, teeth worrying at his lower lip. Baekhyun grins, and pushes his forefinger in to the first knuckle. Just holds it there for a minute, sitting halfway up Jongin's ass, and watches him squirm. Keeps his other palm flattened against Jongin's pelvis so he can't move it, can't grind down, can't do anything but clench shallowly around Baekhyun's finger. "Hyung, I swear to God-"
"Hey," Baekhyun interrupts, shaking his head. "I haven't done this in almost a year. Let me take my time."
Jongin scrunches his nose. Baekhyun snorts, and edges the finger all the way in. Jongin sucks in a breath and holds it, abdomen clenching so Baekhyun can see the lines of muscle crisscross over it.
"Relax," Baekhyun says. He leans over and sucks on Jongin's neck, the other side this time, and takes enough blood-two mouthfuls, maybe-for Jongin to go lax again. He leaves a bloody lip-print when he pulls away. Jongin's breathing harder, now. Baekhyun thrusts in with the one digit, crooks it, adds another. Props himself up so he can glance down and watch Jongin swallow his fingers, torso writhing, mouth open in a silent 'o'. He looks good on the dance floor, to be sure, but Baekhyun can't help but think he looks much better like this.
Jongin's legs snap up to his chest when Baekhyun pushes inside him with his dick, slow and steady. Baekhyun drops a kiss on his knee and braces an arm against Jongin's collarbone, hips nudging forward until he's completely sheathed. Jongin clenches experimentally and jerks a smothered fuck out of Baekhyun's mouth. His other hand drops to Jongin's hard-on and twists around the shaft, and Jongin's hands come up to drag Baekhyun's head down so he can fold their lips together.
Baekhyun shifts a little, cants forward at a different angle, and Jongin moans into his mouth, rumbles through Baekhyun's chest right to his groin. Another thrust and Jongin breaks the kiss, spine arching, the crown of his head thumping against the headboard. Baekhyun's skin is starting to film over with sweat. Jongin runs a finger down his bicep. It comes away wet.
"Hyung," he mumbles dazedly. "You're warm."
"That's all you," Baekhyun grunts, "your blood, I mean," and snaps his hips again, fucking into the heat. Jongin makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat and comes all over his stomach, hands clenched in the sheets. His legs tangle around Baekhyun's waist, ankles crossing behind his back to pull him in deeper. Baekhyun collapses against Jongin's chest a second before he follows him over the edge, lips brushing against Jongin's thunderous heartbeat.
It takes him a while to catch his breath. Baekhyun ignores Jongin's noise of protest, disentangles his arms and rolls away. He ties the condom off and tosses it into the trash, skin already cooling, and sits up to slide his crumpled jeans the rest of the way off. Jongin wipes his belly clean with his shirt as Baekhyun tugs his boxers back up.
When they're done, Jongin reaches out sleepily. Baekhyun sighs, but lets Jongin latch onto him like a sloth anyway. "I'm not a very good cuddle-buddy," he explains, kicking the dirty top-sheet off the bed and hauling Jongin's comforter over them. "It's like hugging an ice cube."
"I don't care," Jongin says, stubborn as ever. He buries his face in Baekhyun's shoulder and falls asleep almost immediately.
Baekhyun stares down at the gentle rise and fall of his chest, equal parts fond and resigned. After a minute, he edges his leg in between Jongin's underneath the covers.
He wakes up to five new messages: one from Kyungsoo (Please clean the sheets. And Febreze the entire room. Please.) and three from Chanyeol (ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ, oh my god, and jesus you guys are loud). The last one's from Taehyun, who'd apparently asked his parents about Baekhyun's issues and gotten an actual reply.
uh if you want it to go away without biting him you have to be rly mean or sth???? mom said it's happening bc he likes you. and u like him. mutual liking~~
too late, Baekhyun types out. Hits send. Drops the phone. He turns in the circle of Jongin's arms and goes back to sleep.
fin
A/N: GOD this is the most self-indulgent thing in the world, l o l. i started it mostly bc i wanted to figure out the logistics of bloodless vampire sex and obv it... totally derailed from there -_- I JUST WANTED TO WRITE PORN -_-
Pairing: baekhyun/kai
Rating: nc17
Genre: crack, ar
Warnings: swearing, sex, mild body horror, mild violence, oblique reference to underage sex
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: alternate reality where baekhyun is a vampire, that's it, that's the premise. predebut fic. ft. kim taehyun of DICKPUNKS fame (with my profuse apologies @__@). this is literally all crayoninks' fault. 6,710 words.
The morning after Baekhyun signs with SM Entertainment, he swears off human blood.
Technically, it isn't part of his contract. There's a clause buried deep on page seventeen about synthesized blood provisions in the event that a trainee needs them, but the rep he'd spoken to assured him that management generally displayed tacit leniency toward live feeding. Don't ask don't tell for vampires, he'd said, canines flashing when he smiled. We'll take care of you. Baekhyun nodded his head and signed the damn papers. SM's probably the only company with the means to support supernatural beings that also aspire to be idols. He'd be an idiot not to.
The day after, though-near the end of April, weeks after Baekhyun's graduated from high school-a young C-list actor named Kwak Dongho is found dead in his Apgujeong apartment. The story is quietly picked up by Newsen and Naver and quietly circulated out again with minimal fuss, but Baekhyun scrolls through the pictures and sees the signs. It wasn't an overdose like the coroners are saying. Baekhyun sees the cut of his teeth and the pale shine of his unblemished skin, the curious way the man's chest had sank in on itself postmortem, gleaned from the public autopsy reports-and he knows. He'd been killed for trying to feed off the wrong person. He'd been killed for being a vampire.
Baekhyun isn't great at self-control, but he also doesn't care for purposeful self-sabotage when what he really wants is so close he can taste it in the air, like the metallic tang of warm blood. Synth is shit, but it keeps alright at room temperature. It's better, Baekhyun thinks, to protect himself.
He moves in to EXO K's dorm in the summer, dogging the heels of July's fiercest heat wave. On the third day, he wakes up with his dick aching in his boxers. It doesn't occur to him that it's abnormal until he remembers, through the dissipating haze of sleep, that he hasn't had this particular problem since he was fourteen. Pre-bite.
It'd been Taehyun who turned him. One of Baekbum's friends, four years older and lead vocalist in a band, some rock number called Dickpunks that sold out shows in Hongdae on the regular. Of course Baekhyun developed a stupid crush, and of course he'd said yes to the bite, though his first lucid thought upon waking (after being bed-ridden for days as his body adjusted) was, "You couldn't have done it after I'd grown a little taller?"
"That's a common misconception," Taehyun told him, amused. "Your body can still change, you know? It just takes longer."
"How much longer?" Baekhyun insisted. Taehyun just laughed and ruffled his hair before he could duck away. "I don't want to be stuck at a hundred seventy forever. And what about-" Sex? he wanted to ask. Too chickenshit, though. "Morning wood," he muttered instead, making a face.
"No blood, remember?" Taehyun said, tapping the side of Baekhyun's head. "That means no inconvenient boners."
Baekhyun inquired, flushing, if that meant no boners ever again for the rest of his life, and after a dry comment about his priorities Taehyun had taken him on a highly illegal pub-crawl for fresh blood.
"It only tastes good when they're willing," he said. Drilled it into Baekhyun's head like the steady rhythm of bass reverberating through his chest. The difference between a vampire and a beast. Consent and coercion. Taehyun's eyes flashed when Baekhyun sank his teeth into the smooth, proffered curve of another boy's neck and drank so much his entire field of vision went red. So that was the first time. The first time Baekhyun got an erection from someone else's blood, the first time his whole body felt like it was on fire after becoming-well. Undead. The first time he made a person come so hard they almost passed out afterwards, though that might've just been the blood deficit taking its toll.
Synth isn't half as good as real blood, isn't nearly as heady or potent, but maybe the stuff the company stocks is better quality than what his parents had at home. At any rate, the half-liter he drank before bed last night is only kicking in now, throbbing against his leg. He breathes in through his nose and squints across the room. Chanyeol's still sleeping, sprawled out across his bed, an arm and a leg dangling off the edge.
Now is as good a time as any: an hour until breakfast, long before they have to be at HQ for practice. Baekhyun rolls over underneath his comforter and presses his crotch into the mattress. He stays like that for a minute, face buried in his pillow, and inhales the smell of shampoo and fabric softener. His head's still cottony. He shakes the cobwebs away, bangs falling in his eyes, jaw cracking in a yawn. After a couple of slow ruts into the bed, he licks his palm, slides a hand in his pants, and curls it around his cock.
His fingers are cool but his dick's hot, rigid against his stomach as he tugs it up past the elastic. Saliva slicks the way down. On the other side of the room, Chanyeol lets out a loud snore. Baekhyun jumps, hand clenching around his erection, and moans low against the fabric of his pillowcase at the friction, tongue caught between his teeth. He bucks up into the circle of his thumb and forefinger, hips snapping in time with each flick of his wrist. A thin trickle of sweat beads along his hairline. It's the only time his body temperature gets high enough for this, and one droplet rolls down the side of his face, tickles the skin. The cocoon of his blankets fills with the musky smell of precome. He spits in his hand and pumps faster, reaches down with the other to scrape a gentle nail along his balls, and-fuck, there it is. His abdomen clenches hard when he comes, throat tight, limbs tensing as he shoots his load into the sheets.
If Chanyeol notices the pervading smell of sex when Joonmyun barges in to rouse them, he doesn't let on.
The pleasant tingle in Baekhyun's stomach lasts through breakfast. Seunghwan hands him a bottle of synth disguised as banana milk and Baekhyun grins, says, "Cute," underneath his breath. Seunghwan rolls his eyes and tosses a sandwich at his head. Baekhyun snatches it out of the air and offers it to Sehun, who lights up like a firework. Kyungsoo raises his eyebrows. "Growing boys need to eat," Baekhyun explains solemnly, unscrewing the cap of his bottle. "It's too late for us."
Kyungsoo snorts inelegantly into his fishcake. Chanyeol reaches across the table for a high five.
Unless he counts questionable renditions of hit girl group songs for the entertainment of all and sundry, Baekhyun has never really danced seriously before this. It's been four months and walking into the studio is still kind of intimidating-especially now, when the music starts and everyone else is in perfect formation without him.
He's got two sets of choreography to learn and one more being developed on the way. Baekhyun tries to keep up. Tries to twist his body into position. He doesn't fatigue easy, and the moves aren't difficult, but he'd spent half his energy jerking off in the morning. His reaction time isn't terrific. Sehun bumps into him in the middle of History, a bony elbow to the gut, and Baekhyun folds like a house of cards, dazed and dizzy, the cold floorboards sticking to his skin.
When he lifts his head Chanyeol's staring at him like he doesn't know whether to laugh or look sympathetic, the ass. Sehun leans over him in an uncharacteristic show of concern. "Hyung, are you okay?"
"Yeah," he wheezes, sitting up. "I'm good." Jaewon bites his thumbnail and calls a water break. Baekhyun slides over to his duffel bag, unzips the front pocket and reaches in for another bottle of synth. "Just let me-" Digest. "Recharge."
He staggers to his feet and nearly pitches headfirst into someone's chest. Baekhyun's nose fills first with the smell of clean sweat and then, like a brick to the head, the singing, vibrant scent of blood. Baekhyun sways a little, inhaling deeply. His gaze catches on the tan column of a neck, pauses for a moment at the jumping jugular. Eventually, he drags it up with effort.
Jongin peers back at him, eyes half-lidded and assessing, damp, flyaway tufts of hair sticking up on his head.
Everyone knows Jongin, of course. Baekhyun'd seen him around the building even before they started living in the same dorm, mostly in the practice rooms, sometimes in the cafeteria with his friends. SM's star trainee, EXO's future lead dancer. He usually kept to his own, and for all Baekhyun's sociable tendencies Jongin has the kind of default expression that makes him seem benignly detached at best and aloof and unapproachable at worst. Baekhyun thought he'd wait. (He also thought Chanyeol was fucking with him when he said Jongin was a year younger than they were. "But he's so-" "Yeah, dude. I know. Don't worry, that's just his face. You get used to it.")
Since Baekhyun moved in, they've spoken maybe twice. Once to ask when Baekhyun would be done with the bathroom, and the second time to pass the gochujang at dinner. He's also been treated to Jongin's sleepy thousand-yard stare. They've certainly never been this close.
He's close enough now that Baekhyun could lean over and press his nose against Jongin's pulse if he really wanted to. Which he does. There are a lot of things he'd like to do with Jongin's neck. They crowd in Baekhyun's head, build up in the fuzzy pressure behind his eyes. Jongin's blood smells so sweet the air's almost choking with it.
Oh no, Baekhyun thinks, light-headed. Oh fuck. "Hey," he croaks, over the dull ringing in his ears. His throat is so dry. "What's up?"
Jongin's eyes flick to the synth in his hand. "You should drink water, hyung," he says, voice gruff. "Not banana milk. It's not good for you so soon after overexerting yourself."
"Sure," Baekhyun says faintly. Jongin blinks, sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, and shuffles away. Baekhyun remembers to breathe again.
There are two types of people that know about the vampirism: the ones who know and don't give a fuck, and the ones who know and are afraid. In high school, the only two people Baekhyun told had also been the ones that let him feed from them. Kyungjae, who was tall and could beatbox and didn't mind the mutual dick-touching that invariably ensued, and Hakhun, who was the star striker on the soccer team and got hurt so often that he needed the healing properties of the bite almost as much as Baekhyun needed the food. Mutually beneficial blood-letting.
Baekhyun's parents banned Taehyun from the house for a couple of months after they found out what he'd done, but he managed to charm himself back into their good graces in the end. Born vampires had that way about them. An innate likeability. Maybe Baekhyun's contracted a little bit of it too, because if he'd been popular in middle school, it was nothing compared to his social life at Jungwon High. He enjoys being liked; at school, that translated into joining a band and performing in front of screaming audiences. Even now, it often means instant camaraderie.
It's always the people that find out by accident who are scared. First year Baekhyun was stupid and reckless; after hagwon, he backed Kyungjae into an alley outside the FamilyMart, sharp teeth nibbling a line along his collarbone before breaking the skin. When Baekhyun pulled away, incisors dripping, two jjangs from a neighboring high school had rocks in their hands ready for him.
He'd forced Kyungjae to run. Baekhyun hobbled home with a bloody gash blooming across his temple. Not the worst outcome. The hapkido had caught them by surprise, and his skin healed good as new the next morning-but it stays with him. Not everyone is understanding. People will hate you for who you are, and sometimes you just have to keep your head down and roll with it.
Keeping it a secret means he has to get creative about a lot of other things. Like how to go about explaining his weird diet, why his hands are always so cold, the fact that he never tans or burns. Why he prefers giving casual head rather than receiving it. Why he never asks anyone to return the favor.
Baekhyun's fairly certain that telling his future bandmates about his condition isn't exactly in the cards here. Neither is throwing Jongin up against a wall and sucking on his right carotid until he lets Baekhyun bite him.
Avoidance, then. Simple. Effective. Out of smell, out of mind.
Except avoiding someone you live-eat-work with isn't quite so easy when you're about to debut in the same group as them, and especially not when they've done a complete 180 and decided, okay, we're going to be friends now.
Not that it's completely terrible. Jongin is pretty cute when he wants to be. His whole face scrunches up when he smiles. He fights over food with half the band, complains when people take too long in the shower in the morning, stages hostile takeovers of the couch when he wants to commandeer the television. He likes touching people. "He's just slow to warm up," Chanyeol says, after Baekhyun staggers out of one of Jongin's friendly chokeholds and sucks in a huge breath. "It means he likes you."
Fucking great, Baekhyun thinks, and feels the arm around his neck for the rest of the day.
Baekhyun trains steadily through August, comes early and stays late so he can keep going after the others are long gone. He can concentrate better alone, or one-on-one when one of the instructors stays with him, and his dancing improves so much that even Jaewon's impressed. "He's better than you are," he tells Chanyeol drily. "What've you been doing for the past four years?"
Chanyeol wipes an invisible tear from the corner of his eye and presses a palm to his chest. "Hyung, I can't help it that I'm tall." He yelps when Baekhyun digs an elbow into his ribs.
Baekhyun ducks away from Joonmyun's disciplinary cuff to the neck. "Height jokes are only funny when we make them," he says, linking arms with Kyungsoo.
"Get out of here, all of you," Jaewon says, laughing.
Jongin tosses an arm over Sehun's shoulder as they leave, and loops the other one around Baekhyun's waist before he can escape. Baekhyun's stomach drops out, every sense attuned to the fingers settled on his hip and the pervasive smell of blood pumping through Jongin's body. It'd be so easy to just turn around and-
This is bullshit, he thinks, trying to ground his focus in anger. Calm down. It's just blood. You had some this morning.
He doesn't realize they've gotten to the recording studio until he feels Jongin's arm unwind and sees Jongdae rapping a knuckle on the thick glass of the booth, mouth curled into a grin. Their vocal instructor ushers Baekhyun and Kyungsoo onto the couch. Jongin sends them a wave and disappears back out the door with Chanyeol.
"You look like shit," Jongdae notes when he slides out to join them. "And you didn't even have three hours of Chinese class this morning."
Baekhyun snorts, scrubs a hand over his face. "M'fine," he mumbles. "Just tired."
He finally edges in a Skype date on his next day off. Taehyun's hair is the first thing that comes into view, crimped and blood-orange, and then the rest of his face follows.
"Hey," Baekhyun starts, grimacing into his webcam. "Sorry about this. I know you're prepping for the new album-"
"Eurgh," Taehyun interrupts. The video feed lags a little as he waves his hand. "Don't apologize. You being docile weirds me out. Just tell me what's wrong."
Baekhyun nibbles on his index finger. "Where do I even start?"
"The beginning," Taehyun suggests, eyebrow cocked. "Trainee life getting you down?"
"No, that's-" Baekhyun exhales. "That's all fine. I. There's this boy, see-"
"I thought you said you had a problem?"
"Let me finish, asshole," Baekhyun snaps. "This guy-it's fucking absurd. I've never reacted like this to anybody. I can barely think around him; his blood's like fucking catnip for vampires." Baekhyun snorts. "Vampnip."
"Sounds like it could be really kinky niche genre of porn," Taehyun says thoughtfully, tapping a finger on his chin. "Is he hot?"
Jongin's face floods into his mind's eye: the perfect bow of his mouth, the double-line of his eyelids when they close, lashes casting shadows across the apple of his cheekbones under the living room lamp's slanting light. "Yes," Baekhyun says miserably. "It's kind of unbearable."
"What's stopping you from following through?"
"Really?" Baekhyun scowls. "He's my bandmate. How am I supposed to even have that conversation? Hey, Jongin. You smell so good that I want to bleed you dry. Also, could you please help me master this piece of choreography?" He pauses, biting a fingernail. "And after what happened with Dongho in April-"
"Yeah," Taehyun says, gaze sharp. "I know."
Baekhyun sighs heavily, pushes a hand through his hair. "I don't have time for this right now. I need to think about-training. About debut. About not fucking this up." Outside, the front door slams open and closed. Baekhyun stiffens for a moment before slumping over his keyboard again. "I just want to make it stop without-without having to give anything up."
Taehyun's eyes soften through the grainy feed. "Listen," he says, leaning forward earnestly. "I don't have an answer for you, but I can ask Mom and Dad if you want. They might know how to fix it."
Taehyun's parents were both career vampires. The second time Baekhyun met Taehyun's mother, she'd been so busy trying to coordinate a search-and-rescue mission for a missing coven in Gwangju that she didn't even realize they'd already been introduced to each other.
This shit's far too petty for them. Baekhyun sighs again, shakes his head.
"Don't bother," he murmurs, flopping back in bed. "I'll figure it out myself."
It gets worse. These days, Baekhyun can smell Jongin all the damn time. Jongin'll pick absently at a spot on his neck and his blood will rise to the surface, floating out to reel Baekhyun in like some morbid version of a scratch-and-sniff sticker. He almost liked it better when Jongin didn't care. It made everything a lot easier to ignore.
The AC in their entire dorm building goes out for a couple of days in August. During the week it takes to fix, they start loitering behind at the SM building after practice to avoid the heat, slumped listlessly in the dance studio under the whirring fans or plastered chest-first against the floorboards. Baekhyun's alright: his body regulates temperature on its own, keeps him cold as a Popsicle.
"Do Abracadabra," Jongdae calls out, hanging from the barre. DJ Kyungsoo clicks over dutifully on his iPod. At the front of the room, Baekhyun rolls his eyes and slides into the first verse, hips swaying, grinning when he hears the others snorting into their palms over the music. You can tell a lot about a person from what girl group dance they want you to imitate. Sehun asks for Gee; Kris goes for Bad Girl Good Girl (Baekhyun just rolls around on the floor for that one). Yixing asks for KARA's butt dance and hops in to join him after the first pump of Baekhyun's arm.
"Hyung, just do a sexy wave or whatever," Jongin says when it's his turn. "Everyone else took the good ones." Chanyeol's got an arm slung around his back, and he stares into the phone in Jongin's hands, ready to capture it on camera. "Say cheese."
Baekhyun rolls his eyes. "Fuck you all," he says cheerfully, and does it anyway.
Jongin snakes a comfortable arm around Baekhyun's waist as they're walking out. If you keep touching me, Baekhyun thinks, trying to hold his breath, I'm going to do something I'll regret.
Jongin radiates warmth. Human warmth, human blood. Human water bottle Kim Jongin. Baekhyun's eyelids droop. He feels, suddenly, too top-heavy to stay upright. He needs-
"You're so cold, hyung," Jongin murmurs. His grip tightens. Baekhyun finds himself with his chin tucked over Jongin's shoulder, riding up the dorm elevator, with no recollection of how they got there at all. Baekhyun's hand lands heavily on the knob of Jongin's spine. It stiffens under his fingers. He struggles to keep his canines in check.
It's hot as sin in the dorm, and all Baekhyun can do is shiver. "Building management said the AC will be fixed by tomorrow," Seunghwan tells them, before disappearing into his room with two of the cold compresses they use for Jongin's back and leaving them to fend for themselves.
Chanyeol and Sehun hurry to the showers first. The floor lamp gets knocked over in the rush, and Joonmyun sighs, cleans up after their mess. Baekhyun ends up on the sofa, nose stuck in a book, trying desperately to ignore Jongin's socked feet brushing periodically against his calves. Baekhyun chugs two bottles of synth in a row, which gradually warms him up. He's about to start in on a third when Jongin reaches out and snatches it out of his hand.
"What the fuck," he says, poking Jongin's rib. "Give it back."
"Let me have some," Jongin says, grinning, and puts the neck of the bottle to his mouth. Baekhyun watches it happen in slow motion: the backward tilt of Jongin's head, the part of his lips. The way his eyes dance as the liquid hits his tongue-and then-
He splutters, gasps, and spills the rest of the bottle's contents in his lap. Baekhyun dives for the box of tissues on the coffee table and holds it out wordlessly.
"Shit," Jongin says, scrubbing at his tongue with a tissue. "That definitely wasn't banana milk."
Baekhyun's throat constricts. "Maybe it went bad," he manages. He grabs a bunch of tissue himself and starts dabbing Jongin's lap.
Jongin's breath catches when Baekhyun's fingers skate underneath the hem of his tank shirt to wipe his stomach. Interesting. Baekhyun furrows his brow and presses more firmly. Jongin's abdomen tenses. His eyes dart to Baekhyun's face, settle on his mouth. Baekhyun brushes his thumb against Jongin's navel and watches an inexorable tent form in Jongin's sweatpants as he blushes.
Ah, Baekhyun thinks. That ringing in his ears is back. I see. This he can do. This, he understands. His hands curl around Jongin's hips. Maybe substituting blood with sex would take the edge off whenever Jongin was around him, would diminish the overwhelming need to take and take and take until there was nothing left.
Baekhyun carefully crawls forward and pushes Jongin back so his neck hits the armrest. He can hear Kyungsoo puttering around in the kitchen. Joonmyun's vanished into his room, probably preparing to shower next. Anybody could walk out at any time and see them here, Baekhyun crouched over Jongin's crotch, knees dipping into the cushion, pulling Jongin's briefs down with his sweats-but maybe that's the best part. The thrill of it.
No-that's not true. The best part is Jongin's crescent eyes widening in wonder, staring at him like he isn't sure whether or not this is actually happening. He looks really lovely like this, legs trembling with anticipation, breath just edging toward a pant, damp shirt rucked halfway up his chest. Hair fanning out against the tan leather. Dick curved up to bump into his stomach, the head flushed a deep red. Baekhyun dips down and takes it into his mouth, just the tip. He smiles around it when hears a quiet gasp tumble out. Jongin's hands land on his shoulders. So warm. "I'll try not to use teeth," he murmurs, garbled, and works more of Jongin's erection inside.
It's so hot it almost burns the roof of Baekhyun's mouth. He hums, peering up through his eyelashes. One of Jongin's hands flies up so he can bite around the knuckles to keep from groaning. Baekhyun keeps moving forward, sucking insistently, hollowing his cheeks out until his nose bumps into the wiry bit of hair above the base. He stays there for a moment before pulling back. Jongin tries to follow with his hips but Baekhyun holds him down with ease as he nips down the side, tongue darting out to flatten against the skin.
"Hyung, please-"
"Hmm?" Baekhyun takes him in all the way again, nose jamming into his gut, and Jongin wails, back arching off the couch.
He sinks his fingers into Baekhyun's hair and holds his face there. Baekhyun can't breathe, can't do anything but contract his throat, saliva leaking out of the corners of his mouth and dripping down his chin. "I'm gonna-"
He comes, and Baekhyun swallows it down, ears ringing so loud he barely registers Jongin's strangled moan. His burgeoning orgasm is coupled with a surge of blood that smells so sweet Baekhyun feels like he's going to thrum out of his own skin, or pass out. Or both. He tears himself away like he's moving through molasses, muscles dumb and heavy. Jongin slips out from beneath his lips with a wet pop. Baekhyun smacks his lips together, the inside of his mouth sticky and bitter, and tucks Jongin's dick back in his pants.
Jongin's eyes trail down Baekhyun's torso as he sits back. "Do you want me to-?"
"It's okay," Baekhyun says, scuttling off the couch, hands bunching in his pockets. Jongin's face falls. It's on the tip of Baekhyun's tongue, the reason-can't get it up unless you let me suck your blood-but Sehun takes that moment to push out of the bathroom, tracking water onto the living room floor. Jongin jumps, a guilty expression flitting across his face. Baekhyun turns and escapes into the steam.
Despite that first awkward dénouement, it keeps happening. Over and over and over: in the practice rooms when they're the only two left behind, early in the morning with Jongin braced against the kitchen sink, on Jongin's bed when Kyungsoo's out with Chanyeol. Baekhyun's never been very good at impulse control, and Jongin doesn't ask any more questions, takes what Baekhyun gives him.
Joonmyun catches them once, going at it in the bathroom after everyone else has gone to sleep. Be careful is all he says, blinking exhaustion out of his eyes-and Baekhyun knows it's about the sex, but he can't help but think it's about the other thing, too.
Especially because the thirst for real blood gets a little better, for about a week, before it gets much, much worse. Like the vampire isn't sated by the shoot of Jongin's come down his throat anymore, knows Baekhyun isn't going to follow through on all the sex he's been having. By September, any time they're in the same building Baekhyun's struck by the smell of his blood, wrapping around his stomach and pulling him in when he's trying to focus on the stupid joke Chanyeol's telling or whatever ridiculousness Jongdae's up to this time. No amount of kissing or rimming or jerking off can fix this-Baekhyun bending toward Jongin like a dandelion in the wind, throat parched and itching.
At the end of the month, Jongin fucks his back up again during rehearsal. He'd been trying to do Two Moons choreo with Yixing and twisted too far into a turn. It's a worse sprain than usual. Baekhyun can smell the change from two floors down in the recording studio and almost cuts his tongue on his canines.
He could fix that. He could get up on his toes and bite Jongin's neck and suck all the bad blood out, could help him feel better in a different way, one that doesn't involve Baekhyun's mouth on Jongin's dick or his fingers up Jongin's ass.
Jongin's spread out on the couch when they return to the dorm, ice pack pressed to his back, hair wet. Baekhyun takes one look at him and shuffles to perch on the coffee table. "You okay?"
"Yeah," comes Jongin's wry reply, muffled by the way his face is turned into a cushion. "If by okay you mean excommunicated from the practice room for a week."
"It's for your own good."
Jongin grunts noncommittally. "If you say so, hyung."
Baekhyun stares down at his feet. "Are they going to take you to see someone?" he asks, at the same time Jongin lifts his head, expression guileless, and says, "It might help if you bit me," casual as you please, as if he's suggesting something as innocuous as it might help if you gave me a backrub or it might help if you kissed it better.
Baekhyun freezes. His fingers twitch on his knees, spine snapping straight, like someone's rammed a pick into the base of it. "What," he mumbles, holding Jongin's gaze, "are you saying?"
Kyungsoo floats by on his way to the bathroom, towel in hand. "He's saying bite him so he doesn't feel like shit anymore, idiot."
Baekhyun twists his head so fast to stare at him he's surprised he doesn't get fucking whiplash. "Am I missing something?"
"That's kind of a big question, hyung," comes Sehun's voice from the dining room table. Baekhyun sends him as unimpressed a look he can muster under the circumstances.
"You knew?" he asks, searching Jongin's face. "What? How?"
"Did you really think they wouldn't tell us we were debuting with a vampire?" Chanyeol says, head poking out their bedroom door. "And even if we didn't know, what else would we think when you never sweat? Never eat? Feel like death warmed over when we touch you? No heartbeat? Come on, dumbass." He retracts with a squeak when Baekhyun grabs the cushion underneath Jongin's head and throws it at him.
"What the fuck," says Baekhyun. "What the fuck?"
Jongin shrugs uncomfortably. "We thought you knew we knew. And, like, didn't want to talk about it, which is understandable, so we just. Never brought it up." He shifts on his stomach. Baekhyun smells a fresh wave of the hurt in his back, notes the involuntary wince before Jongin has the chance to hide it, and bites his lip.
"I'll give you two some privacy," Sehun says, waggling his eyebrows. Baekhyun wants to punch that look off his face.
"You should bite me, hyung," Jongin says earnestly when he's gone. "It's what you want, right?"
Baekhyun scrubs a hand over his mouth, still reeling. Tries to process everything again. They know. They're okay with it. Jongin's okay with it. He knows. Nobody is going to try and shove a stake through his heart, or whatever. All this emotional turmoil could've been skipped over if he'd just- "I want a lot of things, Jongin." He folds his hands in his lap. "That doesn't mean I can have them all."
Jongin sits up again with effort, the ice pack sliding onto the couch. A waft of blood, coppery and sweet, hits Baekhyun's nose. "I mean-this is what you need." His features shift into something more obstinate. "I want it, too." He probes his back with his fingers and grimaces. "I have needs."
It tastes best when they're willing, Taehyun's voice echoes in his head, and Jongin's so willing it's killing Baekhyun a little bit. Jongin's been willing since Baekhyun moved in with them, probably, and he was too stupid to notice. "I can't believe you knew this entire time," he whines, and Jongin rolls his eyes.
"I'm not an idiot," he says, crowding into Baekhyun's space. He grins. "Plus, what do you think Taemin is?"
Oh, Baekhyun thinks, I should've known, and then Jongin's kissing him, tongue slipping against his, hands reaching up his shirt. Baekhyun's halfway on top of him when Jongin pulls back, a string of saliva connecting their mouths.
"Come on, hyung," Jongin says, tilting back to bare his neck. His pupils are blown wide. "Do what you want."
Baekhyun balks, floundering in his hesitance. Jongin nuzzles his chin like a goddamn puppy. His heartbeat thumps. Baekhyun's canines protract, mouth watering. "Are you sure?" he chokes out.
Jongin laughs. "Just do it," he says, pulling Baekhyun flush against his chest.
Baekhyun bows his head and presses his lips to Jongin's fluttering pulse. Jongin sighs, craning his head to give him better access. He gasps when Baekhyun lets a sharpened canine skate across the warm skin, breaks it just a tad right above his common carotid, and flicks the tip of his tongue out to catch the bead of red that seeps out.
It's been at least half a year since he's had this. Real, human blood, rich and heavy, and of course one drop isn't enough. Baekhyun's held himself back for too long already.
"I'm sorry if this hurts," he says, and Jongin doesn't have time to do more than clench his fingers in Baekhyun's shirt before his teeth are sinking into Jongin's skin. Blood floods past Baekhyun's gums, slipping down his throat and filling him up until he's drowning in it, head spinning, dick stirring to life in his pants. Everything in the world files down to his mouth fastened against Jongin's neck, pulling the pain out of his back and turning it into pleasure.
Jongin goes loose beneath him. Baekhyun can feel something hard pressing against the underside of his thigh. He licks the wound closed and sits back on his haunches, sucking at the blood still staining his teeth. Jongin's half-lidded eyes stare up at him, breath whistling through his lips.
"I can fuck you now, you know," he says conversationally, and Jongin's startled gaze lands on his fly as Baekhyun unzips it and pulls his erection out over the edge of his underwear, pointer finger running down the shaft. "I mean. If you want-"
Jongin gathers Baekhyun in his arms and sweeps them both into his room before Baekhyun can even blink. He locks the door behind them. Poor Kyungsoo. Sexiled from his own dorm.
"I guess your back's all better," Baekhyun remarks, patting his arm. Jongin turns red, blood staining his cheeks. "That's good. Do you have lube?"
"Yeah," he says, voice cracking, and dumps Baekhyun unceremoniously onto the bed. "And. Um. Kyungsoo-hyung has condoms."
"Does he really," Baekhyun says, eyes crinkling. Jongin flushes even darker and mumbles something about finding them by accident when he was looking for one of his snapbacks.
When he resurfaces with the foil packet and bottle of lube, Baekhyun's stroking himself leisurely, head tossed back into the pillow. Jongin fumbles the condom package open and knocks Baekhyun's hand away to roll it onto his cock. Baekhyun flips them bodily. Jongin goes down with a whump, but he manages to hook a leg around Baekhyun's butt and topple him over, too.
"Calm down," he says, chuckling, and reaches for the lube. He dribbles some over his fingers as Jongin wiggles out of his sweats, a damp spot already spreading across the front of his boxers.
Baekhyun palms him through the fabric and Jongin whimpers, lower body pitching forward to rut against his hand. Baekhyun eases Jongin's underwear down, too, and gives his dick a couple of long pulls before positioning his slick fingers against Jongin's asshole. "Hurry up," Jongin demands, teeth worrying at his lower lip. Baekhyun grins, and pushes his forefinger in to the first knuckle. Just holds it there for a minute, sitting halfway up Jongin's ass, and watches him squirm. Keeps his other palm flattened against Jongin's pelvis so he can't move it, can't grind down, can't do anything but clench shallowly around Baekhyun's finger. "Hyung, I swear to God-"
"Hey," Baekhyun interrupts, shaking his head. "I haven't done this in almost a year. Let me take my time."
Jongin scrunches his nose. Baekhyun snorts, and edges the finger all the way in. Jongin sucks in a breath and holds it, abdomen clenching so Baekhyun can see the lines of muscle crisscross over it.
"Relax," Baekhyun says. He leans over and sucks on Jongin's neck, the other side this time, and takes enough blood-two mouthfuls, maybe-for Jongin to go lax again. He leaves a bloody lip-print when he pulls away. Jongin's breathing harder, now. Baekhyun thrusts in with the one digit, crooks it, adds another. Props himself up so he can glance down and watch Jongin swallow his fingers, torso writhing, mouth open in a silent 'o'. He looks good on the dance floor, to be sure, but Baekhyun can't help but think he looks much better like this.
Jongin's legs snap up to his chest when Baekhyun pushes inside him with his dick, slow and steady. Baekhyun drops a kiss on his knee and braces an arm against Jongin's collarbone, hips nudging forward until he's completely sheathed. Jongin clenches experimentally and jerks a smothered fuck out of Baekhyun's mouth. His other hand drops to Jongin's hard-on and twists around the shaft, and Jongin's hands come up to drag Baekhyun's head down so he can fold their lips together.
Baekhyun shifts a little, cants forward at a different angle, and Jongin moans into his mouth, rumbles through Baekhyun's chest right to his groin. Another thrust and Jongin breaks the kiss, spine arching, the crown of his head thumping against the headboard. Baekhyun's skin is starting to film over with sweat. Jongin runs a finger down his bicep. It comes away wet.
"Hyung," he mumbles dazedly. "You're warm."
"That's all you," Baekhyun grunts, "your blood, I mean," and snaps his hips again, fucking into the heat. Jongin makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat and comes all over his stomach, hands clenched in the sheets. His legs tangle around Baekhyun's waist, ankles crossing behind his back to pull him in deeper. Baekhyun collapses against Jongin's chest a second before he follows him over the edge, lips brushing against Jongin's thunderous heartbeat.
It takes him a while to catch his breath. Baekhyun ignores Jongin's noise of protest, disentangles his arms and rolls away. He ties the condom off and tosses it into the trash, skin already cooling, and sits up to slide his crumpled jeans the rest of the way off. Jongin wipes his belly clean with his shirt as Baekhyun tugs his boxers back up.
When they're done, Jongin reaches out sleepily. Baekhyun sighs, but lets Jongin latch onto him like a sloth anyway. "I'm not a very good cuddle-buddy," he explains, kicking the dirty top-sheet off the bed and hauling Jongin's comforter over them. "It's like hugging an ice cube."
"I don't care," Jongin says, stubborn as ever. He buries his face in Baekhyun's shoulder and falls asleep almost immediately.
Baekhyun stares down at the gentle rise and fall of his chest, equal parts fond and resigned. After a minute, he edges his leg in between Jongin's underneath the covers.
He wakes up to five new messages: one from Kyungsoo (Please clean the sheets. And Febreze the entire room. Please.) and three from Chanyeol (ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ, oh my god, and jesus you guys are loud). The last one's from Taehyun, who'd apparently asked his parents about Baekhyun's issues and gotten an actual reply.
uh if you want it to go away without biting him you have to be rly mean or sth???? mom said it's happening bc he likes you. and u like him. mutual liking~~
too late, Baekhyun types out. Hits send. Drops the phone. He turns in the circle of Jongin's arms and goes back to sleep.
fin
A/N: GOD this is the most self-indulgent thing in the world, l o l. i started it mostly bc i wanted to figure out the logistics of bloodless vampire sex and obv it... totally derailed from there -_- I JUST WANTED TO WRITE PORN -_-