we are yet expire 3
title/rating: We Are Yet Expire, pg13
pairing: hankyung/heechul, vampire!AU
summary: Hankyung takes in a new vampire, and there is romance, violence, etc. Bloodsuckers, a Hanchul lovestory.
A/N: mrwar this story is making my brain shrivel like slugs under sea salt. Or maybe that's school.
By the time Hankyung arrives at his apartment after taking the long way home, his answering machine is lit up, a quick, insistent flash of red. He erases them all and is turning away when it rings again. He rips the cord out of the wall, and a moment later feels his mobile vibrating against his leg. Goddamn modern technology, he thinks, and ignores it. He stands at his windows and watches the sun rise, trying to think of nothing. Instead, he finds himself wondering if Siwon has blankets-Heechul gets cold during the day, though technically he shouldn’t feel anything.
Hankyung lies on the couch and stares at the ceiling, unable to bring himself to lie on a mattress that still holds Heechul’s imprint, in sheets that smell like Hankyung’s own cologne that Heechul had hijacked early on. He worries, thinks of a million little quirks Siwon couldn’t have anticipated, stops dialing halfway through his contact number a thousand times, tips and advice turning to ash on his tongue.
Kangin texts him two days later with updates, awkward concern and sympathy, along with an offer of more information. Hankyung doesn’t reply, lets his silence speak for itself. It’s better this way, he thinks, a clean break. It feels like there’s a black hole in his chest, like his ribcage and his throat are being sucked in as he collapses in on himself, and that it will never get better, but--. But he has nothing but time.
Heechul wakes up for the third night in a row in a tiny, cold room with no visible light source, his eyes allowing a dim view of concrete and metal, with no memory of how or even why he’s there. He dusts himself off and kicks the door.
“This is getting old!” he shouts. The door opens and a man walks in. Heechul blinks. “Huh,” he says, “I was not really expecting anything for that.” The man glowers at him. He’s wearing a bright orange jumpsuit and several rings. His hair is ridiculous, his hat more so.
“It’s G the Dragon, yo,” he says, “and I want my youngling back.”
Hankyung has decided, to pass the time and to take his mind off reality, he is going to catch up on all the pop culture that he has overlooked throughout years. He figures that with minimal sleeping and eating it should take him approximately the rest of his existence. Apparently news of this has gotten out, because about a week later Kyuhyun walks in like he owns the place, Zhou Mi trailing cheerfully behind. They take one look at him and Kyuhyun raises his eyebrows into his bangs and Zhou Mi’s smile fades from blinding to fake-brilliant.
“Sooo…” Kyuhyun tries casually, “how’re…things?” Hankyung mumbles something, not looking up from the series finale of Buffy the Vampire Slayer playing on his laptop. He thinks that after, he’ll watch the newest Torchwood special and then start on Angel.
Zhou Mi pushes past Kyuhyun, sticks his face in front of the screen and clasps his hands together. “I know you love Heechul,” he simpers. Hankyung looks up at them for the first time, eyes shot with red, sunken cheeks.
“What?” he slurs.
“Jesus Christ,” says Kyuhyun. They drag him at first to the master bedroom, and then to the guest one when he digs his heels and rambles incoherently. Zhou Mi sits on his chest, lanky limbs pinning him down, and stares at him reproachfully with big sad eyes until he can’t fight sleep anymore and the darkness claims him.
When Hankyung wakes two nights later, Zhou Mi is waiting by his bedside.
“Heechul’s been kidnapped,” he says bluntly, the swoons, melodramatic. “Go to him,” he adds, when Hankyung just sort of blinks at him. Hankyung pauses, and then nods, sitting up. He tries to stand and slides to the floor as his knees buckle out from under him. Kyuhyun comes out of the hall and hauls him back onto the bed, presses a thermos into his hand.
“Where is he?” Hankyung asks between gulps. Kyuhyun pinches his wrist sharply, and Hankyung slows down obediently, takes deep breaths between swallows.
“Oh.” says Zhou Mi. “Um. Well. We’re not really sure about that.” Hankyung wipes his mouth with his forearm, rolls to his feet. He tugs on a clean shirt and reaches for his jacket, shoves on his shoes. Kyuhyun rolls his eyes.
“You’re dumb,” he tells Zhou Mi, then turns to Hankyung. “Siwon and Eeteuk are handling it. You’re not even supposed to know, but Mimi thought it would be dramatic this way. I just wanted to make sure you were still alive.” Zhou Mi looks indignant.
“Romantic, Kui Xian, more romantic..” Hankyung finishes buttoning his shirt and shoves by the both of them, heading for his front door. He’s stopped in his tracks by the sight of Kangin standing in his living room, looking out of his windows, hands clasped behind his back.
“You,” he says coldly, “were not to be informed.” Hankyung sees Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi freeze in his bedroom doorway in his peripheral vision. Kangin doesn’t turn. Hankyung tosses his jacket aside, suddenly furious.
“And why wouldn’t I be told?” he spits, fists clenched. Kangin lets the silence drag out as Hankyung gets himself back under control, then straightens his jacket with a sharp jerk and turns, walking to Hankyung’s door. He pauses with his hand on the knob.
“There is a present for you in the lockbox,” he says, “and it would be best if Eeteuk never officially knew of this. Red tape, you understand.” The door clicks behind him, and Zhou Mi blows out a sigh of relief. Hankyung trades a look with Kyuhyun and they move wordlessly to the door in the corner, undoing the locks swiftly and pushing it open. A youngling peers up at them, right leg mangled, covered with dirt and muck. Hankyung estimates him to be very young, around the same age as Heechul, perhaps even a little younger. He tries to glare at them, lip trembling, face smudged with eyeliner. He snarls weakly.
“Huh.” says Hankyung.
“You kind of look like an axe-murderer,” Heechul tells his guard. The same guy has been watching him every night for awhile now, the first man hasn’t been back since that night he explained himself. Instead, this new, taller, always nothing-but-serious vampire comes in every night with an offering of food, which Heechul refuses. He could be hallucinating from hunger, but he thinks it actually frustrates him. His expression nearly changes as Heechul ignores the whimpering human in his grasp.
“I am not going to bite for you,” Heechul says haughtily. “I didn’t bite for Hankyung, not that he gave me the chance, that asshole, and I certainly didn’t bite for Siwon, goddamn Jesus freak, so what makes you think I’ll bite for you, Norman Bates?” The axe-murderer frowns slightly, pulls the human up so they’re face to face, appraising him with a cool eye. The human whimpers once and goes to his happy place, eyes rolling back into his head as he faints away. The vampire looks honestly surprised at this, and shakes him a little, at a loss, before tossing the limp body out the door with a shrug. He goes back to his chair by the door, arms crossed. Heechul studies his expression, trying to distract himself from sharp pangs of hunger.
“Are you sulking?” he asks curiously. He sighs as he once again receives no response except for a blank stare. “Wanna have a staring contest?”
“I don’t think staring will make the sun go down faster, ge,” says Zhou Mi softly, stepping up behind Hankyung.
“Isn’t my view beautiful?” asks Hankyung, a bitter twist in his smile. “It is the treasure of my home.” Zhou Mi says nothing, shuffles his feet slightly they straightens. They watch the sun begin to set for awhile, then Hankyung turns and goes through his room, into the attached bathroom.
He showers quickly, dries, slides on one of the pair of slacks Heechul had hated so fiercely-designer, material impeccably pressed-black silk shirt, black silk tie. Pulls on a black blazer, ties the laces of shining black loafers, dons polished cufflinks with neat precision. He steps out of his bedroom into the living room, adjusting his collar, to find Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi standing shoulder to shoulder, similarly dressed, hair perfectly styled, nothing out of place, shrouded in black, speaking in low mutters. Kyuhyun has the youngling dangling from one hand, held slightly away from him in distaste. He slides one hand down Zhou Mi’s tie, straightening it, and then steps farther away, presenting a united front. Hankyung grabs his mobile off the coffee table.
“You don’t have to come,” he murmurs, taking in Kyuhyun’s flush, the sparkle in Zhou Mi’s eye as they whispered to each other. He feels his heart clench. “There should only be four or five of them, and I can handle that easily.”
“He could have been lying,” Kyuhyun sneers, shaking his prisoner sharply, “though that would not have been wise of him.” Zhou Mi smiles his wide, happy smile, wicked fangs extending out in clean white points.
“We haven’t killed anything in a long while, Geng,” he hums, licking his lips, “it’s our pleasure.” He and Kyuhyun share a heated look. The youngling whimpers in fear.
Hankyung smiles his own toothy grin, feels his endorphins begin to fire, adrenaline flooding his brain, sharpening his senses and improving his reactions. A voice in his brain murmurs that carnage isn’t necessarily the answer, and that probably he could work this out diplomatically now that he has the youngling. In fact he suspects-no, he knows-that’s what Kangin, what Eeteuk intended when he delivered the young vampire to his door. For as long as these vampires have known him, excluding Zhou Mi, he has been mild, generous, quiet. Accepting of the new laws and uninterested in vampire politics, uninvolved in murder sprees and power struggles, genuinely only concerned with living a moderate, mundane existence. Probably why it was easy for Eeteuk to overlook the fact that he has the potential of being extremely dangerous, which is understandable, but still-a mistake. Hankyung considers peaceful negotiation, then thinks of Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun, standing in his apartment, fangs out, salivating for blood, thinks of how it used to be, when he was a youngling, before Dracula and Buffy and Twilight, before vampires were cuddly and attractive and cool, when they were the creatures that came in your nightmares for the blood of your family; your children and your wives, thinks HeechulHeechulHeechul.
“Let’s go,” he says.
The youngling directs them to a business building in a rundown deserted part of the city. Hankyung doesn’t particularly care that it’s deserted, but he supposes it may win him points with Eeteuk when everything is over and done with. They park on the curb and leave the doors open-it’s an expensive sedan, but if there is a headquarters here the locals know better. Kyuhyun keeps the youngling in place with a chilling look and a pointed glance at his broken leg. Hankyung steps ahead of the other two, who fall into a triangle formation, flanking him. He walks towards the glass door calmly, and out of the corner of his eye sees Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi pick up two large, heavy stainless steel trash cans without breaking stride. He smiles, and unbuttons his blazer, and doesn’t even flinch, much less pause, when they hurl them at the doors from twenty feet away. He steps across the threshold, heralded by the scream of glass shattering and flying through the air, crunches as he walks on fallen shards. Kyuhyun follows him, cool and relaxed, brushing imaginary lint off his suit, and Zhou Mi skips after them both, glittering smile turned deadly.
There are seven vampires in the lobby of the building, and by the looks of them they were completely unprepared for a full frontal assault. They are also relatively unskilled, and Hankyung feels a little let down about how easily they’re dispatched. He admits he may have taken a little too much pleasure in ripping out three of their throats, smiling detachedly as they bled out in front of him, gurgling at him with surprised eyes. He’s a little disgruntled with how fast it all happened-he barely even exerted himself, honestly-but it was enough to get his synapses firing in battle mood: his vision is clear, he notes every movement, he moves swiftly, with ease and grace. He hasn’t felt this focused in decades. He stalks back through the lobby and out to the car, after casting a cursory look to make sure Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun are enjoying themselves and don’t require assistance, and pulls the youngling out of the car. He seems rather terrified of Hankyung, and Hankyung supposes he can’t really blame him-he’s sure he smells of death, and while he was careful to avoid staining his skin and to lick his teeth clean, he’s sure his clothes did not escape unscathed from sprays of blood. He smiles faintly at the memories, and the youngling makes a weak, half-hearted effort to escape, pulled back easily by Hankyung’s grip on his collar.
He drags the boy through the lobby towards the elevators, shoes clicking on the tile, and the youngling gives up the ghost and begins to cry, soft sobs as he sees blood and gore and bodies, as a shirtless Zhou Mi presses Kyuhyun against a wall, both slipping slightly on the messy floor, blood dripping down his back and from their mouths as they kiss sloppily, extended fangs nicking each other’s lips.
Hankyung gives them a small salute-Zhou Mi makes the ‘call me’ sign and Kyuhyun flips him the bird-and steps into the elevator, releasing the boy as the doors chime closed. He scrambles away from Hankyung and curls in the corner, breath hitching. Hankyung fixes his gaze on the panel of buttons, pushes the one for the top floor, watches the numbers tick upwards.
2,3,4, Heechul snarls at him, feral, fingernails scratching at Hankyung’s face. Hankyung checks his shoelaces, smoothes his hair.
5,6,7, Heechul leans into him on the couch, laughing at his drama, the ends of his hair tickling Hankyung’s shoulder. One of his cufflinks is gone, and his shirt is heavy with blood. He frowns absently before shrugging out of the button shirt entirely, loosening his tie, and tossing it, the shirt and his jacket carelessly aside.
8,9,10 Heechul kneeling on hard, dirty concrete, devastation writ across his face, “Hankyung, please.” Hankyung pulls his undershirt out of where it’d been tucked into his pants and shrugs his shoulders, cracks his neck.
11,12,13, Heechul under him, slender and strong and lithe, gasping his name, smiling into their kiss. Hankyung reaches across the space and grabs the youngling, pulls him close and adjusts his grip.
14. HeechulHeechulHeechul, Hankyung thinks.
15. The doors open. Hankyung lifts his head, schools his expression and steps out.
HeechulHeechulHeechul.
I feel like this sucked at the beginning and got marginally better as it went on. :/ here's to hoping a good part 4.
pairing: hankyung/heechul, vampire!AU
summary: Hankyung takes in a new vampire, and there is romance, violence, etc. Bloodsuckers, a Hanchul lovestory.
A/N: mrwar this story is making my brain shrivel like slugs under sea salt. Or maybe that's school.
By the time Hankyung arrives at his apartment after taking the long way home, his answering machine is lit up, a quick, insistent flash of red. He erases them all and is turning away when it rings again. He rips the cord out of the wall, and a moment later feels his mobile vibrating against his leg. Goddamn modern technology, he thinks, and ignores it. He stands at his windows and watches the sun rise, trying to think of nothing. Instead, he finds himself wondering if Siwon has blankets-Heechul gets cold during the day, though technically he shouldn’t feel anything.
Hankyung lies on the couch and stares at the ceiling, unable to bring himself to lie on a mattress that still holds Heechul’s imprint, in sheets that smell like Hankyung’s own cologne that Heechul had hijacked early on. He worries, thinks of a million little quirks Siwon couldn’t have anticipated, stops dialing halfway through his contact number a thousand times, tips and advice turning to ash on his tongue.
Kangin texts him two days later with updates, awkward concern and sympathy, along with an offer of more information. Hankyung doesn’t reply, lets his silence speak for itself. It’s better this way, he thinks, a clean break. It feels like there’s a black hole in his chest, like his ribcage and his throat are being sucked in as he collapses in on himself, and that it will never get better, but--. But he has nothing but time.
Heechul wakes up for the third night in a row in a tiny, cold room with no visible light source, his eyes allowing a dim view of concrete and metal, with no memory of how or even why he’s there. He dusts himself off and kicks the door.
“This is getting old!” he shouts. The door opens and a man walks in. Heechul blinks. “Huh,” he says, “I was not really expecting anything for that.” The man glowers at him. He’s wearing a bright orange jumpsuit and several rings. His hair is ridiculous, his hat more so.
“It’s G the Dragon, yo,” he says, “and I want my youngling back.”
Hankyung has decided, to pass the time and to take his mind off reality, he is going to catch up on all the pop culture that he has overlooked throughout years. He figures that with minimal sleeping and eating it should take him approximately the rest of his existence. Apparently news of this has gotten out, because about a week later Kyuhyun walks in like he owns the place, Zhou Mi trailing cheerfully behind. They take one look at him and Kyuhyun raises his eyebrows into his bangs and Zhou Mi’s smile fades from blinding to fake-brilliant.
“Sooo…” Kyuhyun tries casually, “how’re…things?” Hankyung mumbles something, not looking up from the series finale of Buffy the Vampire Slayer playing on his laptop. He thinks that after, he’ll watch the newest Torchwood special and then start on Angel.
Zhou Mi pushes past Kyuhyun, sticks his face in front of the screen and clasps his hands together. “I know you love Heechul,” he simpers. Hankyung looks up at them for the first time, eyes shot with red, sunken cheeks.
“What?” he slurs.
“Jesus Christ,” says Kyuhyun. They drag him at first to the master bedroom, and then to the guest one when he digs his heels and rambles incoherently. Zhou Mi sits on his chest, lanky limbs pinning him down, and stares at him reproachfully with big sad eyes until he can’t fight sleep anymore and the darkness claims him.
When Hankyung wakes two nights later, Zhou Mi is waiting by his bedside.
“Heechul’s been kidnapped,” he says bluntly, the swoons, melodramatic. “Go to him,” he adds, when Hankyung just sort of blinks at him. Hankyung pauses, and then nods, sitting up. He tries to stand and slides to the floor as his knees buckle out from under him. Kyuhyun comes out of the hall and hauls him back onto the bed, presses a thermos into his hand.
“Where is he?” Hankyung asks between gulps. Kyuhyun pinches his wrist sharply, and Hankyung slows down obediently, takes deep breaths between swallows.
“Oh.” says Zhou Mi. “Um. Well. We’re not really sure about that.” Hankyung wipes his mouth with his forearm, rolls to his feet. He tugs on a clean shirt and reaches for his jacket, shoves on his shoes. Kyuhyun rolls his eyes.
“You’re dumb,” he tells Zhou Mi, then turns to Hankyung. “Siwon and Eeteuk are handling it. You’re not even supposed to know, but Mimi thought it would be dramatic this way. I just wanted to make sure you were still alive.” Zhou Mi looks indignant.
“Romantic, Kui Xian, more romantic..” Hankyung finishes buttoning his shirt and shoves by the both of them, heading for his front door. He’s stopped in his tracks by the sight of Kangin standing in his living room, looking out of his windows, hands clasped behind his back.
“You,” he says coldly, “were not to be informed.” Hankyung sees Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi freeze in his bedroom doorway in his peripheral vision. Kangin doesn’t turn. Hankyung tosses his jacket aside, suddenly furious.
“And why wouldn’t I be told?” he spits, fists clenched. Kangin lets the silence drag out as Hankyung gets himself back under control, then straightens his jacket with a sharp jerk and turns, walking to Hankyung’s door. He pauses with his hand on the knob.
“There is a present for you in the lockbox,” he says, “and it would be best if Eeteuk never officially knew of this. Red tape, you understand.” The door clicks behind him, and Zhou Mi blows out a sigh of relief. Hankyung trades a look with Kyuhyun and they move wordlessly to the door in the corner, undoing the locks swiftly and pushing it open. A youngling peers up at them, right leg mangled, covered with dirt and muck. Hankyung estimates him to be very young, around the same age as Heechul, perhaps even a little younger. He tries to glare at them, lip trembling, face smudged with eyeliner. He snarls weakly.
“Huh.” says Hankyung.
“You kind of look like an axe-murderer,” Heechul tells his guard. The same guy has been watching him every night for awhile now, the first man hasn’t been back since that night he explained himself. Instead, this new, taller, always nothing-but-serious vampire comes in every night with an offering of food, which Heechul refuses. He could be hallucinating from hunger, but he thinks it actually frustrates him. His expression nearly changes as Heechul ignores the whimpering human in his grasp.
“I am not going to bite for you,” Heechul says haughtily. “I didn’t bite for Hankyung, not that he gave me the chance, that asshole, and I certainly didn’t bite for Siwon, goddamn Jesus freak, so what makes you think I’ll bite for you, Norman Bates?” The axe-murderer frowns slightly, pulls the human up so they’re face to face, appraising him with a cool eye. The human whimpers once and goes to his happy place, eyes rolling back into his head as he faints away. The vampire looks honestly surprised at this, and shakes him a little, at a loss, before tossing the limp body out the door with a shrug. He goes back to his chair by the door, arms crossed. Heechul studies his expression, trying to distract himself from sharp pangs of hunger.
“Are you sulking?” he asks curiously. He sighs as he once again receives no response except for a blank stare. “Wanna have a staring contest?”
“I don’t think staring will make the sun go down faster, ge,” says Zhou Mi softly, stepping up behind Hankyung.
“Isn’t my view beautiful?” asks Hankyung, a bitter twist in his smile. “It is the treasure of my home.” Zhou Mi says nothing, shuffles his feet slightly they straightens. They watch the sun begin to set for awhile, then Hankyung turns and goes through his room, into the attached bathroom.
He showers quickly, dries, slides on one of the pair of slacks Heechul had hated so fiercely-designer, material impeccably pressed-black silk shirt, black silk tie. Pulls on a black blazer, ties the laces of shining black loafers, dons polished cufflinks with neat precision. He steps out of his bedroom into the living room, adjusting his collar, to find Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi standing shoulder to shoulder, similarly dressed, hair perfectly styled, nothing out of place, shrouded in black, speaking in low mutters. Kyuhyun has the youngling dangling from one hand, held slightly away from him in distaste. He slides one hand down Zhou Mi’s tie, straightening it, and then steps farther away, presenting a united front. Hankyung grabs his mobile off the coffee table.
“You don’t have to come,” he murmurs, taking in Kyuhyun’s flush, the sparkle in Zhou Mi’s eye as they whispered to each other. He feels his heart clench. “There should only be four or five of them, and I can handle that easily.”
“He could have been lying,” Kyuhyun sneers, shaking his prisoner sharply, “though that would not have been wise of him.” Zhou Mi smiles his wide, happy smile, wicked fangs extending out in clean white points.
“We haven’t killed anything in a long while, Geng,” he hums, licking his lips, “it’s our pleasure.” He and Kyuhyun share a heated look. The youngling whimpers in fear.
Hankyung smiles his own toothy grin, feels his endorphins begin to fire, adrenaline flooding his brain, sharpening his senses and improving his reactions. A voice in his brain murmurs that carnage isn’t necessarily the answer, and that probably he could work this out diplomatically now that he has the youngling. In fact he suspects-no, he knows-that’s what Kangin, what Eeteuk intended when he delivered the young vampire to his door. For as long as these vampires have known him, excluding Zhou Mi, he has been mild, generous, quiet. Accepting of the new laws and uninterested in vampire politics, uninvolved in murder sprees and power struggles, genuinely only concerned with living a moderate, mundane existence. Probably why it was easy for Eeteuk to overlook the fact that he has the potential of being extremely dangerous, which is understandable, but still-a mistake. Hankyung considers peaceful negotiation, then thinks of Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun, standing in his apartment, fangs out, salivating for blood, thinks of how it used to be, when he was a youngling, before Dracula and Buffy and Twilight, before vampires were cuddly and attractive and cool, when they were the creatures that came in your nightmares for the blood of your family; your children and your wives, thinks HeechulHeechulHeechul.
“Let’s go,” he says.
The youngling directs them to a business building in a rundown deserted part of the city. Hankyung doesn’t particularly care that it’s deserted, but he supposes it may win him points with Eeteuk when everything is over and done with. They park on the curb and leave the doors open-it’s an expensive sedan, but if there is a headquarters here the locals know better. Kyuhyun keeps the youngling in place with a chilling look and a pointed glance at his broken leg. Hankyung steps ahead of the other two, who fall into a triangle formation, flanking him. He walks towards the glass door calmly, and out of the corner of his eye sees Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi pick up two large, heavy stainless steel trash cans without breaking stride. He smiles, and unbuttons his blazer, and doesn’t even flinch, much less pause, when they hurl them at the doors from twenty feet away. He steps across the threshold, heralded by the scream of glass shattering and flying through the air, crunches as he walks on fallen shards. Kyuhyun follows him, cool and relaxed, brushing imaginary lint off his suit, and Zhou Mi skips after them both, glittering smile turned deadly.
There are seven vampires in the lobby of the building, and by the looks of them they were completely unprepared for a full frontal assault. They are also relatively unskilled, and Hankyung feels a little let down about how easily they’re dispatched. He admits he may have taken a little too much pleasure in ripping out three of their throats, smiling detachedly as they bled out in front of him, gurgling at him with surprised eyes. He’s a little disgruntled with how fast it all happened-he barely even exerted himself, honestly-but it was enough to get his synapses firing in battle mood: his vision is clear, he notes every movement, he moves swiftly, with ease and grace. He hasn’t felt this focused in decades. He stalks back through the lobby and out to the car, after casting a cursory look to make sure Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun are enjoying themselves and don’t require assistance, and pulls the youngling out of the car. He seems rather terrified of Hankyung, and Hankyung supposes he can’t really blame him-he’s sure he smells of death, and while he was careful to avoid staining his skin and to lick his teeth clean, he’s sure his clothes did not escape unscathed from sprays of blood. He smiles faintly at the memories, and the youngling makes a weak, half-hearted effort to escape, pulled back easily by Hankyung’s grip on his collar.
He drags the boy through the lobby towards the elevators, shoes clicking on the tile, and the youngling gives up the ghost and begins to cry, soft sobs as he sees blood and gore and bodies, as a shirtless Zhou Mi presses Kyuhyun against a wall, both slipping slightly on the messy floor, blood dripping down his back and from their mouths as they kiss sloppily, extended fangs nicking each other’s lips.
Hankyung gives them a small salute-Zhou Mi makes the ‘call me’ sign and Kyuhyun flips him the bird-and steps into the elevator, releasing the boy as the doors chime closed. He scrambles away from Hankyung and curls in the corner, breath hitching. Hankyung fixes his gaze on the panel of buttons, pushes the one for the top floor, watches the numbers tick upwards.
2,3,4, Heechul snarls at him, feral, fingernails scratching at Hankyung’s face. Hankyung checks his shoelaces, smoothes his hair.
5,6,7, Heechul leans into him on the couch, laughing at his drama, the ends of his hair tickling Hankyung’s shoulder. One of his cufflinks is gone, and his shirt is heavy with blood. He frowns absently before shrugging out of the button shirt entirely, loosening his tie, and tossing it, the shirt and his jacket carelessly aside.
8,9,10 Heechul kneeling on hard, dirty concrete, devastation writ across his face, “Hankyung, please.” Hankyung pulls his undershirt out of where it’d been tucked into his pants and shrugs his shoulders, cracks his neck.
11,12,13, Heechul under him, slender and strong and lithe, gasping his name, smiling into their kiss. Hankyung reaches across the space and grabs the youngling, pulls him close and adjusts his grip.
14. HeechulHeechulHeechul, Hankyung thinks.
15. The doors open. Hankyung lifts his head, schools his expression and steps out.
HeechulHeechulHeechul.
I feel like this sucked at the beginning and got marginally better as it went on. :/ here's to hoping a good part 4.