our veins run red and blue
our veins run red and blue
junmyeon/sehun
nc-17
vampire!au
warnings: bloodsucking, minor character death
a/n: originally written for the 2014 round of xunmian
The first time Sehun wakes, it’s to a kaleidoscopic haze of soundscoloursimages, his world nothing but an indiscernible blur around him. The stench of death and decay permeates the stale air, tinged heavily with the coppery sharpness of blood. His chest hurts with each heaving breath, and he can vaguely register a blinding hot pain spreading across his ribcage when he makes an attempt at sitting up.
What’s happening, he wants to say, but all that manages to escape his lips is an unintelligible garble of words. Out of his peripheral vision, he catches a glimpse of a face: pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes. His head swims as his brain scrambles to recognise the person, to no avail.
A frigid, bony hand pushes him back down roughly, and Sehun lets out a gasp at the sudden twin pinpricks of pain stabbing into the side of his neck. Something trickles down his shoulder, soaking into the torn material of his shirt, and Sehun’s limbs suddenly feel all too heavy, as if weighed down with invisible boulders sewn along the seams of his clothes.
“Sehun?” A stretch of cold unevenness is pressed against his lips; thick, spicy liquid filling up his open mouth and trickling down his throat. “Drink up, child.”
Sehun realises a second too late that the thing pressed to his lips is in fact a wrist, and the liquid blood, but he can’t seem to move, head tilted back and starting to throb with each choked swallow of liquid rust. Everything is a haze of redwhiteblack, sounds bleeding into visuals and creating a mess of thoughts in his head. Black dots start to crowd the corner of Sehun’s vision, and he allows his eyelids to flutter shut.
The next time Sehun wakes, it’s to dim yellow light and billowing red silk. The colours hurt his eyes, seeming too bright, too loud, and he quickly shuts them once more. And it’s not just his sight; his nerves are all on edge, hyper-sensitised, as if someone’s taken his five senses and increased their sensitivity by tenfold.
The grotesque click and slide of his bones grinding together is amplified in his ears as he carefully sits up, his entire body feeling as if it’s been ripped apart at the joints and put back together haphazardly. A musty, woody smell fills his nostrils as he stands, bare soles sliding against too-smooth silk, and after cracking an eyelid open just a little, Sehun thinks that it might be from the wooden tiling beneath the bedsheets pooling beneath his feet. He notices at the back of his mind that someone has rid him of his worn clothes, cleaned him up and dressed him in boxers and a plain white shirt; the flowery scent of fabric softener and detergent tinged with a faint musk, one that is not unpleasant and surprisingly familiar.
But all these are, although assaulting his newly-sharpened senses, overpowered by the thirst starting to ache at the back of his throat. Eyes still unopened, he reaches trembling fingers up to the base of his neck, blunt nails clawing and gouging at oddly frigid flesh because it hurts, the thirst raking invisible talons down the inside of his throat with an animalistic ferocity. Cloying, intense, leaving behind a dryness in Sehun’s mouth as if he’s been dehydrated for days. He swallows in an attempt to moisten his mouth, but his throat only clicks dryly with the swell of his Adam’s apple, swollen tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.
The thirst only worsens as Sehun takes a shaky step towards the door in the far end of the room, looking for an escape and moving painfully slow, the harsh grind of bones a cacophony in his ears. He’s only a few footfalls away, the thirst burning a crimson haze behind his half-shut eyelids, when the door creaks open and a man steps into his field of vision.
Almost immediately, Sehun’s senses go haywire, the thirst clawing and screaming for attention as he sways and falls to his knees. He can’t focus on anything except how frighteningly thirsty he is and, as the man moves closer to him, how mouth-wateringly delicious he smells. A sharp pain pierces through Sehun’s senses, and he notices belatedly that his incisors are suddenly a little too long, a little too sharp; the realisation conjuring up a hazy childhood memory of bedtime horror stories, nights spent curled up in bed with his blanket pulled over his head, fearful of the wandering shadows in each crevice of his room.
“Sehun,” the man calls out, kneeling next to his trembling figure and laying a hand on his shoulder. The simple touch sends an almost electrical-like shock jolting through Sehun’s body, and he whimpers softly. “Sehun, look at me.”
The man’s voice is soft yet carrying an undertone of steel, and Sehun can’t help but obey, raising his head with much difficulty. His eyes take in the sight of how the man’s pale skin is now lit up by a network of glowing lines within his flesh, each bright streak branching out into tinier ones, snaking their way all over him. He’s filled with the sudden urge to leap forward, tear the man apart and - and what?
As if sensing his desire, the man grins, tilting his head to the side so that his neck is exposed, the iridescent lines scoring his flesh pulsing gently, looking so very tantalising. He lifts a slender finger and, with an almost inaudible snickt sound, slices a deep gash into the junction of his neck and shoulder.
Blood spills out from the wound in splashes of deep crimson, pooling in the hollows of his protruding collarbones. This time, Sehun can’t stop himself from vaulting forward and crashing into the man, sending the both of them tumbling hard to the floor as he lowers his head and suctions his lips around the gash, starting to drink in deep, hungry gulps, tongue flicking out to lap at any stray drops leaking from the side of his mouth.
With the first swallow of blood, Sehun’s thirst starts to dissipate, quenched by the liquid iron filling his mouth and sliding down his throat. The scarlet haze clouding his head and his senses disappears, leaving behind a single name burning bright in his mind: Junmyeon.
He opens his eyes long enough to turn his gaze on the man - Junmyeon? - questioningly; faint recognition filtering through his mind, followed by an inexplicable feeling of being drawn to Junmyeon, as if they are mere puppets, pulled close and bound together by nearly invisible threads.
A low laugh, Junmyeon resting his hand on the back of Sehun’s head in an encouraging manner as he shifts a little to accommodate the weight of Sehun’s body sprawled over his. “Drink, my child. We will talk later.”
And so Sehun drinks, downing Junmyeon’s blood in long greedy gulps, the steady flow of liquid rust down his throat soothing its overwhelming parchedness. It’s nothing like he’s ever experienced before, the quenching of his thirst inducing sparks of pleasure that skitter across his skin, up his spine, tiny aphrodisiacal firework displays along the expanse of his body. He lets out a gurgled moan through a mouthful of blood, the crimson haze clouding his eyes now intensifying, as does the bond between him and Junmyeon; the ethereal threads of connection between them now tangible and distinct, glowing as brightly as the network of blood vessels pulsing beneath Junmyeon’s skin.
There is nothing at the front of Sehun’s mind but the thirst and Junmyeon Junmyeon Junmyeon; nothing but bloodlust and the sudden surge of Junmyeon’s thoughts, emotions, his very presence engulfing Sehun completely. And Sehun can’t help but press himself even closer to Junmyeon’s small frame below him, lips to neck and heart to chest and hips to thigh, the sparks of pleasure now igniting into a delicious burn low in his abdomen. He wants nothing more but to eliminate whatever remaining distance there is between him and Junmyeon; let Junmyeon’s being wholly surround and consume him.
Everything is a blurry mess of crimson rust and the delicious friction of Sehun’s hips, his clothed cock grinding feverishly against Junmyeon’s thigh. It’s only when Sehun comes - body seizing up suddenly and hips pressed flush against Junmyeon’s, a blood-laced gasp falling from his iron-stained lips - that the haze in his mind clears and he realises what exactly just happened. He scrambles to his feet, a mess of gangly limbs and clumsy movements, wincing at the damp friction of his boxers against his now-soft cock.
“What-” he swallows, tasting the remnants of Junmyeon’s blood on the back of his tongue. Panic flares up hot and painful in Sehun’s chest, horror rising in his throat and making him want to retch. He stares wide-eyed at Junmyeon, who only stands and brushes off his clothes as if what had just happened was perfectly normal. “Fuck, I just-”
“Drank blood? Got off from it?” Junmyeon’s lips curl upwards in amusement, corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. Sehun flinches uncontrollably when Junmyeon reaches forward, cards slender fingers through his hair tenderly, a soft chuckle bubbling from his lips as if he's laughing at a joke that Sehun couldn’t seem to understand. “You’ll get used to it soon, child. The first few days are always the worst for fledglings.”
At this close proximity, Sehun notices with a start that the skin over Junmyeon’s artery is completely healed, unmarred skin beneath smears of bright red that were starting to melt into Junmyeon’s flesh, until there was absolutely no evidence left of what Sehun had done barely minutes before. Sehun watches with grotesque fascination, awkward limbs stumbling back until his spine hits the edge of the bed, his stained boxers rubbing a sticky mess over his skin, his too-sensitive cock. Junmyeon merely watches him with quiet amusement, an almost tender look in his eyes.
Who are you? Sehun wants to ask, only it comes out as a hoarse, trembling “What are you?” Tongue flicking out to lick at chapped lips, Sehun can feel the tips of his incisors - fangs, now - grazing his tongue’s surface. It simultaneously terrifies and repulses him. “What am I?”
The curl of Junmyeon’s lips is still one of amusement, but Sehun thinks that he sees a spark of disappointment in his dark eyes. He resists the involuntary compulsion to throw himself forward at Junmyeon, to fall to his knees at Junmyeon’s feet when he turns towards the door, polished shoes clipping sharply on the wooden floor. For a moment, Sehun sees the network of threads between them flashing brightly once more, before fading away, accompanied by a sense of loss, a dull ache within his ribcage.
“You’re a child of the night now, Sehun.” Junmyeon’s voice is hushed, and this time when he opens his mouth, Sehun can see a flash of razor-sharp white in his mouth. “You’re a vampire.”
The thirst is back. It’s back, a cloying ache heavy on the back of Sehun’s tongue, down the heaving muscle of his throat. Although not as bad as the first time, it still hurts, still makes Sehun feel like he’s just run a marathon with not a drop of water to drink. He sits cross-legged on the oversized bed in a mess of loose limbs and rasping breaths, silk sheets twisted tight around his shoulders and wrists, fisted in strong fingers; an attempt to take his mind off the thirst screeching for attention.
He’s alone, Junmyeon having left with nothing more but a measured smile and instructions to “Do not leave this room while I’m gone”, and Sehun thinks that he’s never felt more lonely. It’s a void of sorts that threatens to consume him from the inside out, an emptiness that comes with the anger and shock of realising who - what - he is now. It doesn’t help that the dryness in his throat, the prickles of heat at the pit of his stomach haven’t gone away, still taunting him with the fresh memory of hot liquid rust and deliciously supple skin.
Sehun curls his fingers ever tighter in the silk sheets, bones grinding and tendons straining beneath the pull of paper-thin skin. He wants - no, needs Junmyeon, needs his touch, needs to feed. A deep breath, recycled air inflating his lungs and carrying with it the underlying scent of iron and sex. The tips of Sehun’s fingers break through the silk stretched taut between tensed digits, digging into cold flesh beneath torn threads of satiny crimson.
There’s a wave of childish impulsiveness crashing over him, and Sehun’s on his feet and heading towards the door before he can even register his movements, the sheets left in a pool of rumpled scarlet flowing over the edge of the bed.
The door creaks too loudly for comfort, brass knob icy cold beneath Sehun’s fingers as he steps out of the room, bare feet pattering on smooth concrete. The corridor is a stark contrast to the luxury of the room Sehun had been in: bare cement flooring and equally bleak gray walls, dimmed fluorescent lights lining the ceiling and buzzing softly. There’s a certain staleness to the air, a quiet mustiness that reeks of neglect and dried blood, Sehun wrinkling his nose at the stench as he peers down one end of the corridor. Even with his heightened senses, he can only just make out the outlines of a stairwell shrouded in shadow.
Taking a hesitant step towards the stairwell, Sehun wonders idly where it would lead to, whether it would take him to Junmyeon, when he catches a flash of movement in his peripheral vision. Sehun has just barely spun around when a body plasters itself against his back, slim shirt-clad arms coming to wrap around his chest.
“Hello there, little one,” a dulcet, raspy voice purrs in his ear, bursts of breath tickling the shell of his ear. “Pray tell, what might you be doing wandering around in this sort of attire?”
Sehun wants to free himself from this stranger’s grasp, put distance between them, but his limbs feel like lead and he can’t seem to move, helpless as dexterous fingers trace their way over his body; the stranger sliding one hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and tugging hard. Sehun gasps, body jerking in surprise as his head is yanked back, neck now left fully exposed.
“Such a beautiful one,” the stranger sighs, and Sehun has to stifle a whimper when a nose nuzzles its way up the side of his neck. “Mm, and you smell so good too.”
Those lithe fingers trail down his chest and down to the waistband of his boxers, fondling the elastic lewdly, even as razor-sharp fangs scrape lightly against Sehun’s skin. “What are the odds that you’ll taste as good as you look, my pretty?”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Sehun waits for the first stab of white-hot pain - only, it never comes. There’s a flurry of movement and the stranger is torn away from where he’d been latched onto Sehun. hitting the concrete wall behind them with a loud thud.
“Stay away from him,” a voice growls, and Sehun turns to see Junmyeon standing over an equally small-framed vampire with silvery hair and almost crazed red-rimmed eyes. There’s anger and authority radiating off Junmyeon in waves, and Sehun cowers from the sheer power, giving in to his instincts and falling to his knees, body curling into itself.
“Oh, so he’s yours then?” the nameless vampire doesn’t seem to be affected by Junmyeon’s aura, instead merely sounding curious. “Good catch.”
“I am not joking, Baekhyun, take that smirk off your face.” Junmyeon’s voice is low, sounding as if he’s speaking through gritted teeth. “I will not hesitate to incapacitate you if you so much as touch Sehun again, do you understand?”
The vampire - Baekhyun - gets to his feet slowly, hands held up in mock surrender. Sehun wonders how he can be so calm and even amused when the aura Junmyeon’s giving off is absolutely terrifying.
“Calm down, old man, I don’t touch things that don’t belong to me.” Baekhyun’s grinning as he backs away down the corridor, reaching out as if to run his fingers through Sehun’s hair, but pulling away when Junmyeon makes a low, aggressive noise in his throat. “See you around, little one.”
A burst of raspy laughter and he’s gone, seemingly melting away into the shadows of the corridor. Sehun doesn’t know, doesn’t care, because the thirst is raging at full force now and he can barely think straight, body trembling and eyes clouded with redredred.
“Sehun.”
Junmyeon has one hand on the back of Sehun’s neck and one hand under his arm as he helps him up, supporting Sehun’s weight so that he’s draped over Junmyeon’s smaller form. Sehun shudders bodily at the intensity of Junmyeon’s scent at such close proximity, barely making out the incandescent network of lines glowing along his neck through half-shut eyelids. A whine leaves Sehun’s throat , fangs already elongated and scraping at Junmyeon’s exposed collarbones, arms locked tight around his shoulders.
“Junmyeon - Please - So thirsty, want now-”
“Hush, my child,” Junmyeon whispers, his voice soothing and velvet-smooth as he maneuvers them back into the room, kicking the door shut behind him before finally, finally tilting his head to give Sehun full access to his neck. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
A sharp intake of breath as Sehun’s fangs pierce through soft flesh, tongue lapping hungrily at the bloody mess that follows. Junmyeon leans back against the heavy oak door, hands continuing to stroke Sehun’s hair and neck, voice murmuring soothing words of encouragement as Sehun eagerly chases after fulfillment.
The continuous relapses of bloodlust carry on every few hours for what seemed like forever to Sehun. He thinks that in reality, it’s only been a few days or a week at most, but he isn’t sure of how much time has passed, Junmyeon having kept him in the room until his body “adjusts to not being human anymore.”
The other vampire had been at Sehun’s side almost the entire time, allowing Sehun to teeth on him, once even fucking him through the post-feeding arousal. Sehun had insisted on handling it himself after that time though, waiting until Junmyeon left the room before sprawling out on the too-large bed and frantically fucking himself with fingers three knuckles deep and one hand fisted tightly around his cock. His own fingers aren’t as fulfilling as Junmyeon’s cock had been, can’t make him come as fast as Junmyeon had when he’d pounded Sehun into the mattress with fingers bruising hips and hips driving forward in harsh thrusts, but Sehun is too mortified to ask Junmyeon to fuck him again, not when he’d refused so staunchly following that first time.
“The intensity of your bloodlust starts to subside after the first week or so,” Junmyeon tells him after the first few feedings. “It’s to make up for the blood lost when you were turned. The arousal, though. That usually lasts for a few months or more.”
Sehun had frowned at that, curling up deeper into his cocoon of sheets on the bed. He’d jerked off more times these few days than he’d had when he had been human, and it wasn’t much fun being constantly aroused and aching to come.
He falls into an acquaintance of sorts with Junmyeon, feeling awkward that he’s now wholly dependent on someone he’s never met before, that Junmyeon seemed to know more about him than he did about the other vampire. But he takes comfort in how Junmyeon’s idle conversation with him seemed to fill up the void in his chest, even if it was only temporary because Junmyeon only teaches him about vampire customs and their lifestyle, never once mentioning anything about Sehun’s human life, and Sehun is left clueless as to why, of all people, Junmyeon had decided to turn him.
Junmyeon takes Sehun hunting the first night he allows Sehun out of the room, a day or two after he finally stops having such frequent bouts of frenzied bloodlust.
“I won’t always be around for you to feed from, so you have to learn how to feed on your own,” Junmyeon explains as he leads Sehun up the staircase at the end of the corridor, Sehun subconsciously keeping himself a few footfalls behind. “Of course, you could always take blood tablets, but they won’t quench your thirst as much as real blood.”
Sehun feels slightly nauseous at the mention of blood, never mind that he’s been surviving on only that the past week. It’s been a week of nothing but feeding and dealing with the arousal that followed, nothing but the four lavishly-decorated walls of the room and Junmyeon’s comforting presence, but Sehun thinks that he still hasn’t come to terms with the fact that he’s not human anymore. He doesn’t think that he ever will. Sehun swallows, throat suddenly dry and the void back in his chest, hollow and painful, as he continues climbing up the steps.
The staircase leads them to a hallway of sorts, one that looks more homely and lived-in than the corridor they had come from. If Sehun pretends hard enough, it’s almost like he’s back in his family’s apartment in Seoul.
Junmyeon mistakes his expression to be one of surprise, chuckling softly. “What, did you think that vampires all live in graveyards, like what those stupid human movies would have you believe? We only live underground during the day because our skin’s sensitive to the UV rays in sunlight.”
Before Sehun can reply, they’re met by a tall vampire, all dark hair and graceful limbs. He bows in greeting to Junmyeon, acknowledging Sehun with a nod.
“Ah yes, Sehun, this is Jongin.” Junmyeon gestures to the new vampire. “He’ll be joining us on this hunt because his Sire is out of town at the moment.”
Sehun nods, ducking his head down as Jongin comes around to stand beside him as Junmyeon leads them out, moving with an easy grace that Sehun is envious of, because Jongin seems well-assimilated in his new body, this new lifestyle.
There’s nothing but pitch-black night and endless stretches of field all around the house, and Sehun can make out the bright glittering lights of a city in the distance. The air is thick with the acrid stench of smoke, the scent of grass and vegetation, and it’s completely unfamiliar.
“We’re in Beijing,” Junmyeon supplies, as if reading Sehun’s mind. “Just outside the main city area, which is where we’re headed to now.”
They run to the city.
It’s not tiring, not with their accelerated physical abilities, and Sehun quite likes the rush of wind against his face, the steady rhythm of his bare feet on the ground falling into beat with those of Junmyeon and Jongin.
They stop in the middle of a nameless street, just in front of an overpass. It’s four in the morning, and while the streets are not empty, they’re not buzzing with life either. Junmyeon has cloaked the three of them in shadow, and they go unnoticed by passers-by, mostly drunks or workers just off their night shift.
Junmyeon strikes fast, striding to the overpass where a few drunkards are lying slumped against the stairs, grabbing a man by the throat and yanking him into a nearby alley.
“Remember, you can’t leave any hints that we’ve been feeding off them,” Junmyeon tells Sehun as he pins the struggling drunk to the wall with one hand. It’s terrifying, Sehun thinks, how he’s speaking so calmly and matter-of-fact, as if he’s teaching Sehun how to solve a calculus problem instead of how to kill a human. “So no using your fangs at all.”
And with a clawed finger, Junmyeon slices open the poor man’s neck, just below his chin. Blood spurts out from the burst artery with a faint hissing sound, rivulets of red running down the man’s neck and droplets of crimson spraying outwards forcefully. Jongin immediately drops to his knees in front of the dying man, cupping his hands beneath the lolling neck so that his palms fill up with dark sticky red, before drinking eagerly like a child would from a cold tap on a scorching summer afternoon.
Sehun turns to the side and retches violently. The sound of Jongin’s drinking, the heavy stench of iron and death only serves to make him even more nauseous, even as the thirst in his throat perks up at the scent of fresh blood.
His throat hurts, his heaving chest even more so, but Sehun thinks that the heat of Junmyeon’s disappointed gaze on the side of his face hurts the worst of all.
“You didn’t drink.” Junmyeon says shortly as he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at Sehun through the doorway of the adjoining bathroom.
Sehun shakes his head, stripping off his shirt and throwing it down onto the tiled floor. “I couldn’t.” He splashes water from the tap onto his chest, scrubbing at pale skin furiously to wash off the dried patches of red from where the man’s blood had sprayed onto him earlier.
“Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?” Junmyeon’s voice is soft, but Sehun can still hear it clearly over the sound of the running tap. “You were perfectly fine with drinking my blood.”
“It’s different.” Sehun catches a whiff of stale blood as he speaks and gags immediately, drenching his chest with more water and not caring if the rest of his clothes got wet.
“How different can it be?” Junmyeon’s standing now, arms crossed over his chest. “Sehun, you’re a vampire now. You have to get used to feeding, especially on humans.”
There, it’s back again, that wave of rash anger and indignance, surging up from the void within him, and Sehun can’t seem to stop himself from raising his voice. “I never asked to be turned, okay? I never asked asked to become a monster, one that would kill humans and suck them dry for sustenance, I never wanted this.”
Junmyeon’s eyes soften, and he takes a step forward. “Sehun, I -”
“Turn me back.” Sehun grabs onto his Sire’s arm, staring at him with desperation in his eyes. “Turn me back, kill me, do something so that I won’t be a vampire anymore, please.”
“I can’t.” Junmyeon looks almost sad now, eyes widened and lips downturned. “The change is permanent, and I won’t kill you.”
“Why? You had no qualms about killing that man just now, why are you hesitating now?”
Something flickers in Junmyeon’s eyes, and he shakes himself free from Sehun’s grasp. “Don’t, Sehun.” The fiercely dominant aura is back as he turns, striding to the door and yanking it open. “Come look for me when you’ve composed yourself.”
Heavy oak slams shut, and the void in Sehun’s chest threatens to consume him whole.
He doesn’t look for Junmyeon when he’s calmed down. There’s a messed up ball of emotions swirling inside him, and Sehun doesn’t know what to make of it; anger and frustration and loneliness and that strange attraction, that connection to Junmyeon that he just can’t seem to figure out. He wants to leave, find some way of getting back to Seoul, but at the same time, there’s a small part of him that longs for Junmyeon, that needs Junmyeon.
Sehun finds himself wandering around the house after three days of cooping up inside the room, sulking in his cocoon of sheets and quenching his thirst with blood tablets, his hands his only company during the arousal. There are other vampires living in the house and in the rooms of the underground corridor - Junmyeon’s clan, as Sehun remembers from one of their conversations - and Sehun feels awkwardly self-conscious when he bumps into them during his idle wandering. He never sees Junmyeon, though, and Sehun’s not sure if he’s thankful or upset about that.
He meets Baekhyun in the kitchen once, the vampire sitting with his feet kicked up onto the table and a cigarette dangling from his lips when Sehun walks in, in search of more blood tablets after finishing the tube that he’d found in the room.
“We meet again, little one,” Baekhyun drawls lazily, peering at Sehun through a puff of a smoke. “More decently dressed this time, I see.”
Sehun’s not sure how, or what to reply, and so he doesn’t, instead heading to the cabinets lining the walls and opening them to look for the blood tablets. The heady scent of tobacco fills the room, seeping into Sehun’s pores, and he wonders how Baekhyun can even stand the taste of it.
“There are blood packs in the fridge, you don’t have to take any of those shit pills. Came from the blood bank, no humans were killed in the making of those.” Baekhyun points to the sleek silver fridge in the corner, exhaling another puff of smoke as he laughs at his own joke.
Mumbling his thanks with ears flushed red from Baekhyun’s dig at him, Sehun takes a pack of chilled blood from the fridge and stands by the counter, puncturing the corner of the plastic pack with his fangs so that he can drink from it. Baekhyun’s steady gaze is disconcerting, to say the least, and Sehun hurries to finish drinking so that he can leave.
“Y’know,” Baekhyun starts after a few awkwardly quiet moments. “Junmyeon hyung really likes you. He’d have disciplined anyone else if they’d dared to yell at him like you did.”
Sehun pauses in his drinking, running his tongue over his teeth as he looks up at Baekhyun. “How did you -”
“Everyone around at that time heard it, you weren’t exactly keeping your voice down.” Baekhyun shrugs, taking another lazy drag and blowing out a smoke ring. “But really, you should go talk to him. He turned you for a reason, and he’s obviously planning to keep you.”
Sehun’s not a confrontational person. He’s never liked conflicts, preferring to keep everything to himself in the hopes that whatever problem it is would blow over and be done with. He doesn’t look for Junmyeon, even after what Baekhyun’s said to him, but he can’t stop replaying the other vampire’s words in his head.
It’s Junmyeon who comes to him first, quietly entering Sehun’s room as he’s downing a handful of blood tablets. He looks weary, worn out, and Sehun wonders if it’s because of what he’d said to him.
“Sehun.” Junmyeon walks over to stand beside the bed, though still keeping a distance between the two of them. “We need to talk.”
Sehun hums in acknowledgement, tugging the sheets tighter around him. “Baekhyun said that I should clear things up with you.”
Junmyeon frowns at Baekhyun’s name but makes no mention of it. “We should. I just thought that you’d want to know the reason I turned you.” A pause, Junmyeon running a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair. “It’s - You’re my mate. And vampires don’t usually have human mates, it’s extremely rare. I found you in Seoul, where I used to live, and you had been in a traffic accident, you were dying, so I turned you immediately. I’m sorry if you didn’t want it.” Junmyeon takes a deep breath, and his lips are downturned once more.
Sehun stares blankly at Junmyeon, trying to process the information he’d just been told. “So we’re supposed to bond? Or something?”
Junmyeon laughs shakily, a harsh, soft sound. “Yes, but the bond has to be mutual, so you’ll have to be a willing party for it to work.”
“You didn’t tell me any of this,” Sehun says accusingly. His mind is whirring with new understanding, of the connection between him and Junmyeon, of Junmyeon’s protectiveness over him, of the void still throbbing in his chest.
“You were still having a hard time being a fledgeling and I didn’t want to jar your emotions any more than I should,” Junmyeon sighs, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. “I thought that I would tell you after you’ve adjusted fully.”
They sit in silence for a long while, Junmyeon taking a sudden fascination in the floorboards beneath his feet and Sehun contemplating all that he’d just been told.
“I want it.” Sehun says suddenly, breaking the silence of the room. He grips the sheets tighter, feeling something stir in his chest. When Junmyeon turns to look at him questioningly, he adds “The bonding thing. I - I’m willing to do it.”
“Are you sure about this?” Junmyeon still looks hesitant. “Vampire commitment, it’s different from human commitment. You can’t break the bond, and you can’t ever reverse it.”
Sehun nods, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Junmyeon smile so brightly.
They bond a few days later, during one of Sehun’s arousals, only this time, Junmyeon is helping him through it. It’s a heated affair, not awkward like how Junmyeon had fucked him the first time; lips pressed to lips, fingers raking down chest, hips flush against each other.
Sehun licks at the newly-healed skin of Junmyeon’s neck, where he’d drank from earlier, still tasting faint traces of sweet rust. Junmyeon’s bare chest is pressed to his, as his fingers fumble with the zippers of their pants, a whine leaving his lips as he gives up, slicing through the fabric with a clawed finger.
A laugh bubbles from Junmyeon’s lips as he helps Sehun rid them of the remaining clothing, before meshing their lips together as he ruts his cock along the line of Sehun’s thigh, hand coming round to fist Sehun’s cock.
“How are we - How are we going to do this?” Sehun asks breathlessly as he rocks his hips up into Junmyeon’s hand, delighting in the feeling of Junmyeon’s cock hard against his thigh.
“We have to drink at the same time,” Junmyeon flicks his wrist and smiles at the whine that Sehun lets out. He gives one last stroke before pulling away. “Turn over.”
The arch of Sehun’s back is beautifully pale and unblemished, and Junmyeon takes his time laying kisses on the knobs of Sehun’s spine, trailing his lips down to the curve of his ass. Retracting his claws, he preps Sehun carefully, fingers saliva-slick and curling up to press into Sehun’s prostate. The soft, hiccup-like moans Sehun lets out only serve to arouse Junmyeon even more, and his cock is slick with pre-come as he presses up against Sehun.
“You’re sure?” He asks carefully, and Sehun makes a frustrated noise, pushing his hips back, “Yes, Junmyeon, I swear to -”
A gasp falls from his lips, turning into a drawn-out moan as Junmyeon pushes into him in a single smooth thrust and bottoms out. It’s different from before, so different, because this time Sehun isn’t concentrating on chasing his orgasm or getting rid of the haze of arousal, but instead focusing on Junmyeon’s very presence; Junmyeon’s hands gripping his hips, Junmyeon’s hips against the backs of his thighs, the fullness of Junmyeon’s cock in him.
Sehun can’t stop the flurry of noises falling from his lips the moment Junmyeon starts moving, driving his hips forward in smooth, hard thrusts; soft whimpers and mangled cries of Junmyeon’s name into the silk sheets beneath his cheek. His knees slide further apart on the mattress with every thrust until his cock is rubbing against cool silk with every movement of his hips to meet Junmyeon’s.
Through the haze of arousal, Sehun feels the sharp pinpricks of pain at the side of his neck, smells the metallic tang of iron and torn flesh beneath the scent of sex hanging in the air. A hand is lifted off where it had been resting on Sehun’s hips, Junmyeon’s wrist now pressed to Sehun’s parted lips.
“Drink up, child,” Junmyeon murmurs against his neck, blood-laced words seeping into broken skin and strained tendon.
Fangs elongated, Sehun bites down onto Junmyeon’s wrist and begins to drink, a moan gurgling in his throat as he’s overwhelmed by the sudden surge of emotions, the surge of connection between Junmyeon and him. The void in Sehun’s chest slowly fills up with Junmyeon’s presence, Junmyeon’s thoughts, Junmyeon’s emotions; until his heart is straining at the seams of his chest, Junmyeon’s name falling from his lips continuously, an overflow. He can feel Junmyeon’s pleasure as if it was his own, and the intensity of it all pushes Sehun to orgasm.
He comes with a muffled cry of Junmyeon’s name, fangs still embedded into Junmyeon’s as he slumps over and feels Junmyeon thrust once, twice more before coming inside him. Junmyeon continues moving his hips slowly as he rides out his orgasm, pulling away from Sehun’s neck and gently sliding his wrist from the fledgeling’s mouth. The puncture wounds are already beginning to heal, and Junmyeon laves his tongue over the ones on Sehun’s neck just for good measure.
Sehun is breathing shakily, still yet to come down from his high, when he feels Junmyeon gather him into his arms, nuzzling the top of his head. Chest to chest, Sehun can see the glowing threads of connection between them, now binding Junmyeon’s heart to his; ethereal yet so very strong.
He takes a shakily inhale, breathing in the scent of Junmyeon’s skin and basking in the weight of Junmyeon’s arms draped over his shoulders. There’s a certain sort of intimacy, sweet comfort in their hug, and Sehun thinks that maybe, definitely he could start coming to terms with this.
junmyeon/sehun
nc-17
vampire!au
warnings: bloodsucking, minor character death
a/n: originally written for the 2014 round of xunmian
The first time Sehun wakes, it’s to a kaleidoscopic haze of soundscoloursimages, his world nothing but an indiscernible blur around him. The stench of death and decay permeates the stale air, tinged heavily with the coppery sharpness of blood. His chest hurts with each heaving breath, and he can vaguely register a blinding hot pain spreading across his ribcage when he makes an attempt at sitting up.
What’s happening, he wants to say, but all that manages to escape his lips is an unintelligible garble of words. Out of his peripheral vision, he catches a glimpse of a face: pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes. His head swims as his brain scrambles to recognise the person, to no avail.
A frigid, bony hand pushes him back down roughly, and Sehun lets out a gasp at the sudden twin pinpricks of pain stabbing into the side of his neck. Something trickles down his shoulder, soaking into the torn material of his shirt, and Sehun’s limbs suddenly feel all too heavy, as if weighed down with invisible boulders sewn along the seams of his clothes.
“Sehun?” A stretch of cold unevenness is pressed against his lips; thick, spicy liquid filling up his open mouth and trickling down his throat. “Drink up, child.”
Sehun realises a second too late that the thing pressed to his lips is in fact a wrist, and the liquid blood, but he can’t seem to move, head tilted back and starting to throb with each choked swallow of liquid rust. Everything is a haze of redwhiteblack, sounds bleeding into visuals and creating a mess of thoughts in his head. Black dots start to crowd the corner of Sehun’s vision, and he allows his eyelids to flutter shut.
The next time Sehun wakes, it’s to dim yellow light and billowing red silk. The colours hurt his eyes, seeming too bright, too loud, and he quickly shuts them once more. And it’s not just his sight; his nerves are all on edge, hyper-sensitised, as if someone’s taken his five senses and increased their sensitivity by tenfold.
The grotesque click and slide of his bones grinding together is amplified in his ears as he carefully sits up, his entire body feeling as if it’s been ripped apart at the joints and put back together haphazardly. A musty, woody smell fills his nostrils as he stands, bare soles sliding against too-smooth silk, and after cracking an eyelid open just a little, Sehun thinks that it might be from the wooden tiling beneath the bedsheets pooling beneath his feet. He notices at the back of his mind that someone has rid him of his worn clothes, cleaned him up and dressed him in boxers and a plain white shirt; the flowery scent of fabric softener and detergent tinged with a faint musk, one that is not unpleasant and surprisingly familiar.
But all these are, although assaulting his newly-sharpened senses, overpowered by the thirst starting to ache at the back of his throat. Eyes still unopened, he reaches trembling fingers up to the base of his neck, blunt nails clawing and gouging at oddly frigid flesh because it hurts, the thirst raking invisible talons down the inside of his throat with an animalistic ferocity. Cloying, intense, leaving behind a dryness in Sehun’s mouth as if he’s been dehydrated for days. He swallows in an attempt to moisten his mouth, but his throat only clicks dryly with the swell of his Adam’s apple, swollen tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.
The thirst only worsens as Sehun takes a shaky step towards the door in the far end of the room, looking for an escape and moving painfully slow, the harsh grind of bones a cacophony in his ears. He’s only a few footfalls away, the thirst burning a crimson haze behind his half-shut eyelids, when the door creaks open and a man steps into his field of vision.
Almost immediately, Sehun’s senses go haywire, the thirst clawing and screaming for attention as he sways and falls to his knees. He can’t focus on anything except how frighteningly thirsty he is and, as the man moves closer to him, how mouth-wateringly delicious he smells. A sharp pain pierces through Sehun’s senses, and he notices belatedly that his incisors are suddenly a little too long, a little too sharp; the realisation conjuring up a hazy childhood memory of bedtime horror stories, nights spent curled up in bed with his blanket pulled over his head, fearful of the wandering shadows in each crevice of his room.
“Sehun,” the man calls out, kneeling next to his trembling figure and laying a hand on his shoulder. The simple touch sends an almost electrical-like shock jolting through Sehun’s body, and he whimpers softly. “Sehun, look at me.”
The man’s voice is soft yet carrying an undertone of steel, and Sehun can’t help but obey, raising his head with much difficulty. His eyes take in the sight of how the man’s pale skin is now lit up by a network of glowing lines within his flesh, each bright streak branching out into tinier ones, snaking their way all over him. He’s filled with the sudden urge to leap forward, tear the man apart and - and what?
As if sensing his desire, the man grins, tilting his head to the side so that his neck is exposed, the iridescent lines scoring his flesh pulsing gently, looking so very tantalising. He lifts a slender finger and, with an almost inaudible snickt sound, slices a deep gash into the junction of his neck and shoulder.
Blood spills out from the wound in splashes of deep crimson, pooling in the hollows of his protruding collarbones. This time, Sehun can’t stop himself from vaulting forward and crashing into the man, sending the both of them tumbling hard to the floor as he lowers his head and suctions his lips around the gash, starting to drink in deep, hungry gulps, tongue flicking out to lap at any stray drops leaking from the side of his mouth.
With the first swallow of blood, Sehun’s thirst starts to dissipate, quenched by the liquid iron filling his mouth and sliding down his throat. The scarlet haze clouding his head and his senses disappears, leaving behind a single name burning bright in his mind: Junmyeon.
He opens his eyes long enough to turn his gaze on the man - Junmyeon? - questioningly; faint recognition filtering through his mind, followed by an inexplicable feeling of being drawn to Junmyeon, as if they are mere puppets, pulled close and bound together by nearly invisible threads.
A low laugh, Junmyeon resting his hand on the back of Sehun’s head in an encouraging manner as he shifts a little to accommodate the weight of Sehun’s body sprawled over his. “Drink, my child. We will talk later.”
And so Sehun drinks, downing Junmyeon’s blood in long greedy gulps, the steady flow of liquid rust down his throat soothing its overwhelming parchedness. It’s nothing like he’s ever experienced before, the quenching of his thirst inducing sparks of pleasure that skitter across his skin, up his spine, tiny aphrodisiacal firework displays along the expanse of his body. He lets out a gurgled moan through a mouthful of blood, the crimson haze clouding his eyes now intensifying, as does the bond between him and Junmyeon; the ethereal threads of connection between them now tangible and distinct, glowing as brightly as the network of blood vessels pulsing beneath Junmyeon’s skin.
There is nothing at the front of Sehun’s mind but the thirst and Junmyeon Junmyeon Junmyeon; nothing but bloodlust and the sudden surge of Junmyeon’s thoughts, emotions, his very presence engulfing Sehun completely. And Sehun can’t help but press himself even closer to Junmyeon’s small frame below him, lips to neck and heart to chest and hips to thigh, the sparks of pleasure now igniting into a delicious burn low in his abdomen. He wants nothing more but to eliminate whatever remaining distance there is between him and Junmyeon; let Junmyeon’s being wholly surround and consume him.
Everything is a blurry mess of crimson rust and the delicious friction of Sehun’s hips, his clothed cock grinding feverishly against Junmyeon’s thigh. It’s only when Sehun comes - body seizing up suddenly and hips pressed flush against Junmyeon’s, a blood-laced gasp falling from his iron-stained lips - that the haze in his mind clears and he realises what exactly just happened. He scrambles to his feet, a mess of gangly limbs and clumsy movements, wincing at the damp friction of his boxers against his now-soft cock.
“What-” he swallows, tasting the remnants of Junmyeon’s blood on the back of his tongue. Panic flares up hot and painful in Sehun’s chest, horror rising in his throat and making him want to retch. He stares wide-eyed at Junmyeon, who only stands and brushes off his clothes as if what had just happened was perfectly normal. “Fuck, I just-”
“Drank blood? Got off from it?” Junmyeon’s lips curl upwards in amusement, corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. Sehun flinches uncontrollably when Junmyeon reaches forward, cards slender fingers through his hair tenderly, a soft chuckle bubbling from his lips as if he's laughing at a joke that Sehun couldn’t seem to understand. “You’ll get used to it soon, child. The first few days are always the worst for fledglings.”
At this close proximity, Sehun notices with a start that the skin over Junmyeon’s artery is completely healed, unmarred skin beneath smears of bright red that were starting to melt into Junmyeon’s flesh, until there was absolutely no evidence left of what Sehun had done barely minutes before. Sehun watches with grotesque fascination, awkward limbs stumbling back until his spine hits the edge of the bed, his stained boxers rubbing a sticky mess over his skin, his too-sensitive cock. Junmyeon merely watches him with quiet amusement, an almost tender look in his eyes.
Who are you? Sehun wants to ask, only it comes out as a hoarse, trembling “What are you?” Tongue flicking out to lick at chapped lips, Sehun can feel the tips of his incisors - fangs, now - grazing his tongue’s surface. It simultaneously terrifies and repulses him. “What am I?”
The curl of Junmyeon’s lips is still one of amusement, but Sehun thinks that he sees a spark of disappointment in his dark eyes. He resists the involuntary compulsion to throw himself forward at Junmyeon, to fall to his knees at Junmyeon’s feet when he turns towards the door, polished shoes clipping sharply on the wooden floor. For a moment, Sehun sees the network of threads between them flashing brightly once more, before fading away, accompanied by a sense of loss, a dull ache within his ribcage.
“You’re a child of the night now, Sehun.” Junmyeon’s voice is hushed, and this time when he opens his mouth, Sehun can see a flash of razor-sharp white in his mouth. “You’re a vampire.”
The thirst is back. It’s back, a cloying ache heavy on the back of Sehun’s tongue, down the heaving muscle of his throat. Although not as bad as the first time, it still hurts, still makes Sehun feel like he’s just run a marathon with not a drop of water to drink. He sits cross-legged on the oversized bed in a mess of loose limbs and rasping breaths, silk sheets twisted tight around his shoulders and wrists, fisted in strong fingers; an attempt to take his mind off the thirst screeching for attention.
He’s alone, Junmyeon having left with nothing more but a measured smile and instructions to “Do not leave this room while I’m gone”, and Sehun thinks that he’s never felt more lonely. It’s a void of sorts that threatens to consume him from the inside out, an emptiness that comes with the anger and shock of realising who - what - he is now. It doesn’t help that the dryness in his throat, the prickles of heat at the pit of his stomach haven’t gone away, still taunting him with the fresh memory of hot liquid rust and deliciously supple skin.
Sehun curls his fingers ever tighter in the silk sheets, bones grinding and tendons straining beneath the pull of paper-thin skin. He wants - no, needs Junmyeon, needs his touch, needs to feed. A deep breath, recycled air inflating his lungs and carrying with it the underlying scent of iron and sex. The tips of Sehun’s fingers break through the silk stretched taut between tensed digits, digging into cold flesh beneath torn threads of satiny crimson.
There’s a wave of childish impulsiveness crashing over him, and Sehun’s on his feet and heading towards the door before he can even register his movements, the sheets left in a pool of rumpled scarlet flowing over the edge of the bed.
The door creaks too loudly for comfort, brass knob icy cold beneath Sehun’s fingers as he steps out of the room, bare feet pattering on smooth concrete. The corridor is a stark contrast to the luxury of the room Sehun had been in: bare cement flooring and equally bleak gray walls, dimmed fluorescent lights lining the ceiling and buzzing softly. There’s a certain staleness to the air, a quiet mustiness that reeks of neglect and dried blood, Sehun wrinkling his nose at the stench as he peers down one end of the corridor. Even with his heightened senses, he can only just make out the outlines of a stairwell shrouded in shadow.
Taking a hesitant step towards the stairwell, Sehun wonders idly where it would lead to, whether it would take him to Junmyeon, when he catches a flash of movement in his peripheral vision. Sehun has just barely spun around when a body plasters itself against his back, slim shirt-clad arms coming to wrap around his chest.
“Hello there, little one,” a dulcet, raspy voice purrs in his ear, bursts of breath tickling the shell of his ear. “Pray tell, what might you be doing wandering around in this sort of attire?”
Sehun wants to free himself from this stranger’s grasp, put distance between them, but his limbs feel like lead and he can’t seem to move, helpless as dexterous fingers trace their way over his body; the stranger sliding one hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and tugging hard. Sehun gasps, body jerking in surprise as his head is yanked back, neck now left fully exposed.
“Such a beautiful one,” the stranger sighs, and Sehun has to stifle a whimper when a nose nuzzles its way up the side of his neck. “Mm, and you smell so good too.”
Those lithe fingers trail down his chest and down to the waistband of his boxers, fondling the elastic lewdly, even as razor-sharp fangs scrape lightly against Sehun’s skin. “What are the odds that you’ll taste as good as you look, my pretty?”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Sehun waits for the first stab of white-hot pain - only, it never comes. There’s a flurry of movement and the stranger is torn away from where he’d been latched onto Sehun. hitting the concrete wall behind them with a loud thud.
“Stay away from him,” a voice growls, and Sehun turns to see Junmyeon standing over an equally small-framed vampire with silvery hair and almost crazed red-rimmed eyes. There’s anger and authority radiating off Junmyeon in waves, and Sehun cowers from the sheer power, giving in to his instincts and falling to his knees, body curling into itself.
“Oh, so he’s yours then?” the nameless vampire doesn’t seem to be affected by Junmyeon’s aura, instead merely sounding curious. “Good catch.”
“I am not joking, Baekhyun, take that smirk off your face.” Junmyeon’s voice is low, sounding as if he’s speaking through gritted teeth. “I will not hesitate to incapacitate you if you so much as touch Sehun again, do you understand?”
The vampire - Baekhyun - gets to his feet slowly, hands held up in mock surrender. Sehun wonders how he can be so calm and even amused when the aura Junmyeon’s giving off is absolutely terrifying.
“Calm down, old man, I don’t touch things that don’t belong to me.” Baekhyun’s grinning as he backs away down the corridor, reaching out as if to run his fingers through Sehun’s hair, but pulling away when Junmyeon makes a low, aggressive noise in his throat. “See you around, little one.”
A burst of raspy laughter and he’s gone, seemingly melting away into the shadows of the corridor. Sehun doesn’t know, doesn’t care, because the thirst is raging at full force now and he can barely think straight, body trembling and eyes clouded with redredred.
“Sehun.”
Junmyeon has one hand on the back of Sehun’s neck and one hand under his arm as he helps him up, supporting Sehun’s weight so that he’s draped over Junmyeon’s smaller form. Sehun shudders bodily at the intensity of Junmyeon’s scent at such close proximity, barely making out the incandescent network of lines glowing along his neck through half-shut eyelids. A whine leaves Sehun’s throat , fangs already elongated and scraping at Junmyeon’s exposed collarbones, arms locked tight around his shoulders.
“Junmyeon - Please - So thirsty, want now-”
“Hush, my child,” Junmyeon whispers, his voice soothing and velvet-smooth as he maneuvers them back into the room, kicking the door shut behind him before finally, finally tilting his head to give Sehun full access to his neck. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
A sharp intake of breath as Sehun’s fangs pierce through soft flesh, tongue lapping hungrily at the bloody mess that follows. Junmyeon leans back against the heavy oak door, hands continuing to stroke Sehun’s hair and neck, voice murmuring soothing words of encouragement as Sehun eagerly chases after fulfillment.
The continuous relapses of bloodlust carry on every few hours for what seemed like forever to Sehun. He thinks that in reality, it’s only been a few days or a week at most, but he isn’t sure of how much time has passed, Junmyeon having kept him in the room until his body “adjusts to not being human anymore.”
The other vampire had been at Sehun’s side almost the entire time, allowing Sehun to teeth on him, once even fucking him through the post-feeding arousal. Sehun had insisted on handling it himself after that time though, waiting until Junmyeon left the room before sprawling out on the too-large bed and frantically fucking himself with fingers three knuckles deep and one hand fisted tightly around his cock. His own fingers aren’t as fulfilling as Junmyeon’s cock had been, can’t make him come as fast as Junmyeon had when he’d pounded Sehun into the mattress with fingers bruising hips and hips driving forward in harsh thrusts, but Sehun is too mortified to ask Junmyeon to fuck him again, not when he’d refused so staunchly following that first time.
“The intensity of your bloodlust starts to subside after the first week or so,” Junmyeon tells him after the first few feedings. “It’s to make up for the blood lost when you were turned. The arousal, though. That usually lasts for a few months or more.”
Sehun had frowned at that, curling up deeper into his cocoon of sheets on the bed. He’d jerked off more times these few days than he’d had when he had been human, and it wasn’t much fun being constantly aroused and aching to come.
He falls into an acquaintance of sorts with Junmyeon, feeling awkward that he’s now wholly dependent on someone he’s never met before, that Junmyeon seemed to know more about him than he did about the other vampire. But he takes comfort in how Junmyeon’s idle conversation with him seemed to fill up the void in his chest, even if it was only temporary because Junmyeon only teaches him about vampire customs and their lifestyle, never once mentioning anything about Sehun’s human life, and Sehun is left clueless as to why, of all people, Junmyeon had decided to turn him.
Junmyeon takes Sehun hunting the first night he allows Sehun out of the room, a day or two after he finally stops having such frequent bouts of frenzied bloodlust.
“I won’t always be around for you to feed from, so you have to learn how to feed on your own,” Junmyeon explains as he leads Sehun up the staircase at the end of the corridor, Sehun subconsciously keeping himself a few footfalls behind. “Of course, you could always take blood tablets, but they won’t quench your thirst as much as real blood.”
Sehun feels slightly nauseous at the mention of blood, never mind that he’s been surviving on only that the past week. It’s been a week of nothing but feeding and dealing with the arousal that followed, nothing but the four lavishly-decorated walls of the room and Junmyeon’s comforting presence, but Sehun thinks that he still hasn’t come to terms with the fact that he’s not human anymore. He doesn’t think that he ever will. Sehun swallows, throat suddenly dry and the void back in his chest, hollow and painful, as he continues climbing up the steps.
The staircase leads them to a hallway of sorts, one that looks more homely and lived-in than the corridor they had come from. If Sehun pretends hard enough, it’s almost like he’s back in his family’s apartment in Seoul.
Junmyeon mistakes his expression to be one of surprise, chuckling softly. “What, did you think that vampires all live in graveyards, like what those stupid human movies would have you believe? We only live underground during the day because our skin’s sensitive to the UV rays in sunlight.”
Before Sehun can reply, they’re met by a tall vampire, all dark hair and graceful limbs. He bows in greeting to Junmyeon, acknowledging Sehun with a nod.
“Ah yes, Sehun, this is Jongin.” Junmyeon gestures to the new vampire. “He’ll be joining us on this hunt because his Sire is out of town at the moment.”
Sehun nods, ducking his head down as Jongin comes around to stand beside him as Junmyeon leads them out, moving with an easy grace that Sehun is envious of, because Jongin seems well-assimilated in his new body, this new lifestyle.
There’s nothing but pitch-black night and endless stretches of field all around the house, and Sehun can make out the bright glittering lights of a city in the distance. The air is thick with the acrid stench of smoke, the scent of grass and vegetation, and it’s completely unfamiliar.
“We’re in Beijing,” Junmyeon supplies, as if reading Sehun’s mind. “Just outside the main city area, which is where we’re headed to now.”
They run to the city.
It’s not tiring, not with their accelerated physical abilities, and Sehun quite likes the rush of wind against his face, the steady rhythm of his bare feet on the ground falling into beat with those of Junmyeon and Jongin.
They stop in the middle of a nameless street, just in front of an overpass. It’s four in the morning, and while the streets are not empty, they’re not buzzing with life either. Junmyeon has cloaked the three of them in shadow, and they go unnoticed by passers-by, mostly drunks or workers just off their night shift.
Junmyeon strikes fast, striding to the overpass where a few drunkards are lying slumped against the stairs, grabbing a man by the throat and yanking him into a nearby alley.
“Remember, you can’t leave any hints that we’ve been feeding off them,” Junmyeon tells Sehun as he pins the struggling drunk to the wall with one hand. It’s terrifying, Sehun thinks, how he’s speaking so calmly and matter-of-fact, as if he’s teaching Sehun how to solve a calculus problem instead of how to kill a human. “So no using your fangs at all.”
And with a clawed finger, Junmyeon slices open the poor man’s neck, just below his chin. Blood spurts out from the burst artery with a faint hissing sound, rivulets of red running down the man’s neck and droplets of crimson spraying outwards forcefully. Jongin immediately drops to his knees in front of the dying man, cupping his hands beneath the lolling neck so that his palms fill up with dark sticky red, before drinking eagerly like a child would from a cold tap on a scorching summer afternoon.
Sehun turns to the side and retches violently. The sound of Jongin’s drinking, the heavy stench of iron and death only serves to make him even more nauseous, even as the thirst in his throat perks up at the scent of fresh blood.
His throat hurts, his heaving chest even more so, but Sehun thinks that the heat of Junmyeon’s disappointed gaze on the side of his face hurts the worst of all.
“You didn’t drink.” Junmyeon says shortly as he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at Sehun through the doorway of the adjoining bathroom.
Sehun shakes his head, stripping off his shirt and throwing it down onto the tiled floor. “I couldn’t.” He splashes water from the tap onto his chest, scrubbing at pale skin furiously to wash off the dried patches of red from where the man’s blood had sprayed onto him earlier.
“Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?” Junmyeon’s voice is soft, but Sehun can still hear it clearly over the sound of the running tap. “You were perfectly fine with drinking my blood.”
“It’s different.” Sehun catches a whiff of stale blood as he speaks and gags immediately, drenching his chest with more water and not caring if the rest of his clothes got wet.
“How different can it be?” Junmyeon’s standing now, arms crossed over his chest. “Sehun, you’re a vampire now. You have to get used to feeding, especially on humans.”
There, it’s back again, that wave of rash anger and indignance, surging up from the void within him, and Sehun can’t seem to stop himself from raising his voice. “I never asked to be turned, okay? I never asked asked to become a monster, one that would kill humans and suck them dry for sustenance, I never wanted this.”
Junmyeon’s eyes soften, and he takes a step forward. “Sehun, I -”
“Turn me back.” Sehun grabs onto his Sire’s arm, staring at him with desperation in his eyes. “Turn me back, kill me, do something so that I won’t be a vampire anymore, please.”
“I can’t.” Junmyeon looks almost sad now, eyes widened and lips downturned. “The change is permanent, and I won’t kill you.”
“Why? You had no qualms about killing that man just now, why are you hesitating now?”
Something flickers in Junmyeon’s eyes, and he shakes himself free from Sehun’s grasp. “Don’t, Sehun.” The fiercely dominant aura is back as he turns, striding to the door and yanking it open. “Come look for me when you’ve composed yourself.”
Heavy oak slams shut, and the void in Sehun’s chest threatens to consume him whole.
He doesn’t look for Junmyeon when he’s calmed down. There’s a messed up ball of emotions swirling inside him, and Sehun doesn’t know what to make of it; anger and frustration and loneliness and that strange attraction, that connection to Junmyeon that he just can’t seem to figure out. He wants to leave, find some way of getting back to Seoul, but at the same time, there’s a small part of him that longs for Junmyeon, that needs Junmyeon.
Sehun finds himself wandering around the house after three days of cooping up inside the room, sulking in his cocoon of sheets and quenching his thirst with blood tablets, his hands his only company during the arousal. There are other vampires living in the house and in the rooms of the underground corridor - Junmyeon’s clan, as Sehun remembers from one of their conversations - and Sehun feels awkwardly self-conscious when he bumps into them during his idle wandering. He never sees Junmyeon, though, and Sehun’s not sure if he’s thankful or upset about that.
He meets Baekhyun in the kitchen once, the vampire sitting with his feet kicked up onto the table and a cigarette dangling from his lips when Sehun walks in, in search of more blood tablets after finishing the tube that he’d found in the room.
“We meet again, little one,” Baekhyun drawls lazily, peering at Sehun through a puff of a smoke. “More decently dressed this time, I see.”
Sehun’s not sure how, or what to reply, and so he doesn’t, instead heading to the cabinets lining the walls and opening them to look for the blood tablets. The heady scent of tobacco fills the room, seeping into Sehun’s pores, and he wonders how Baekhyun can even stand the taste of it.
“There are blood packs in the fridge, you don’t have to take any of those shit pills. Came from the blood bank, no humans were killed in the making of those.” Baekhyun points to the sleek silver fridge in the corner, exhaling another puff of smoke as he laughs at his own joke.
Mumbling his thanks with ears flushed red from Baekhyun’s dig at him, Sehun takes a pack of chilled blood from the fridge and stands by the counter, puncturing the corner of the plastic pack with his fangs so that he can drink from it. Baekhyun’s steady gaze is disconcerting, to say the least, and Sehun hurries to finish drinking so that he can leave.
“Y’know,” Baekhyun starts after a few awkwardly quiet moments. “Junmyeon hyung really likes you. He’d have disciplined anyone else if they’d dared to yell at him like you did.”
Sehun pauses in his drinking, running his tongue over his teeth as he looks up at Baekhyun. “How did you -”
“Everyone around at that time heard it, you weren’t exactly keeping your voice down.” Baekhyun shrugs, taking another lazy drag and blowing out a smoke ring. “But really, you should go talk to him. He turned you for a reason, and he’s obviously planning to keep you.”
Sehun’s not a confrontational person. He’s never liked conflicts, preferring to keep everything to himself in the hopes that whatever problem it is would blow over and be done with. He doesn’t look for Junmyeon, even after what Baekhyun’s said to him, but he can’t stop replaying the other vampire’s words in his head.
It’s Junmyeon who comes to him first, quietly entering Sehun’s room as he’s downing a handful of blood tablets. He looks weary, worn out, and Sehun wonders if it’s because of what he’d said to him.
“Sehun.” Junmyeon walks over to stand beside the bed, though still keeping a distance between the two of them. “We need to talk.”
Sehun hums in acknowledgement, tugging the sheets tighter around him. “Baekhyun said that I should clear things up with you.”
Junmyeon frowns at Baekhyun’s name but makes no mention of it. “We should. I just thought that you’d want to know the reason I turned you.” A pause, Junmyeon running a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair. “It’s - You’re my mate. And vampires don’t usually have human mates, it’s extremely rare. I found you in Seoul, where I used to live, and you had been in a traffic accident, you were dying, so I turned you immediately. I’m sorry if you didn’t want it.” Junmyeon takes a deep breath, and his lips are downturned once more.
Sehun stares blankly at Junmyeon, trying to process the information he’d just been told. “So we’re supposed to bond? Or something?”
Junmyeon laughs shakily, a harsh, soft sound. “Yes, but the bond has to be mutual, so you’ll have to be a willing party for it to work.”
“You didn’t tell me any of this,” Sehun says accusingly. His mind is whirring with new understanding, of the connection between him and Junmyeon, of Junmyeon’s protectiveness over him, of the void still throbbing in his chest.
“You were still having a hard time being a fledgeling and I didn’t want to jar your emotions any more than I should,” Junmyeon sighs, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. “I thought that I would tell you after you’ve adjusted fully.”
They sit in silence for a long while, Junmyeon taking a sudden fascination in the floorboards beneath his feet and Sehun contemplating all that he’d just been told.
“I want it.” Sehun says suddenly, breaking the silence of the room. He grips the sheets tighter, feeling something stir in his chest. When Junmyeon turns to look at him questioningly, he adds “The bonding thing. I - I’m willing to do it.”
“Are you sure about this?” Junmyeon still looks hesitant. “Vampire commitment, it’s different from human commitment. You can’t break the bond, and you can’t ever reverse it.”
Sehun nods, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Junmyeon smile so brightly.
They bond a few days later, during one of Sehun’s arousals, only this time, Junmyeon is helping him through it. It’s a heated affair, not awkward like how Junmyeon had fucked him the first time; lips pressed to lips, fingers raking down chest, hips flush against each other.
Sehun licks at the newly-healed skin of Junmyeon’s neck, where he’d drank from earlier, still tasting faint traces of sweet rust. Junmyeon’s bare chest is pressed to his, as his fingers fumble with the zippers of their pants, a whine leaving his lips as he gives up, slicing through the fabric with a clawed finger.
A laugh bubbles from Junmyeon’s lips as he helps Sehun rid them of the remaining clothing, before meshing their lips together as he ruts his cock along the line of Sehun’s thigh, hand coming round to fist Sehun’s cock.
“How are we - How are we going to do this?” Sehun asks breathlessly as he rocks his hips up into Junmyeon’s hand, delighting in the feeling of Junmyeon’s cock hard against his thigh.
“We have to drink at the same time,” Junmyeon flicks his wrist and smiles at the whine that Sehun lets out. He gives one last stroke before pulling away. “Turn over.”
The arch of Sehun’s back is beautifully pale and unblemished, and Junmyeon takes his time laying kisses on the knobs of Sehun’s spine, trailing his lips down to the curve of his ass. Retracting his claws, he preps Sehun carefully, fingers saliva-slick and curling up to press into Sehun’s prostate. The soft, hiccup-like moans Sehun lets out only serve to arouse Junmyeon even more, and his cock is slick with pre-come as he presses up against Sehun.
“You’re sure?” He asks carefully, and Sehun makes a frustrated noise, pushing his hips back, “Yes, Junmyeon, I swear to -”
A gasp falls from his lips, turning into a drawn-out moan as Junmyeon pushes into him in a single smooth thrust and bottoms out. It’s different from before, so different, because this time Sehun isn’t concentrating on chasing his orgasm or getting rid of the haze of arousal, but instead focusing on Junmyeon’s very presence; Junmyeon’s hands gripping his hips, Junmyeon’s hips against the backs of his thighs, the fullness of Junmyeon’s cock in him.
Sehun can’t stop the flurry of noises falling from his lips the moment Junmyeon starts moving, driving his hips forward in smooth, hard thrusts; soft whimpers and mangled cries of Junmyeon’s name into the silk sheets beneath his cheek. His knees slide further apart on the mattress with every thrust until his cock is rubbing against cool silk with every movement of his hips to meet Junmyeon’s.
Through the haze of arousal, Sehun feels the sharp pinpricks of pain at the side of his neck, smells the metallic tang of iron and torn flesh beneath the scent of sex hanging in the air. A hand is lifted off where it had been resting on Sehun’s hips, Junmyeon’s wrist now pressed to Sehun’s parted lips.
“Drink up, child,” Junmyeon murmurs against his neck, blood-laced words seeping into broken skin and strained tendon.
Fangs elongated, Sehun bites down onto Junmyeon’s wrist and begins to drink, a moan gurgling in his throat as he’s overwhelmed by the sudden surge of emotions, the surge of connection between Junmyeon and him. The void in Sehun’s chest slowly fills up with Junmyeon’s presence, Junmyeon’s thoughts, Junmyeon’s emotions; until his heart is straining at the seams of his chest, Junmyeon’s name falling from his lips continuously, an overflow. He can feel Junmyeon’s pleasure as if it was his own, and the intensity of it all pushes Sehun to orgasm.
He comes with a muffled cry of Junmyeon’s name, fangs still embedded into Junmyeon’s as he slumps over and feels Junmyeon thrust once, twice more before coming inside him. Junmyeon continues moving his hips slowly as he rides out his orgasm, pulling away from Sehun’s neck and gently sliding his wrist from the fledgeling’s mouth. The puncture wounds are already beginning to heal, and Junmyeon laves his tongue over the ones on Sehun’s neck just for good measure.
Sehun is breathing shakily, still yet to come down from his high, when he feels Junmyeon gather him into his arms, nuzzling the top of his head. Chest to chest, Sehun can see the glowing threads of connection between them, now binding Junmyeon’s heart to his; ethereal yet so very strong.
He takes a shakily inhale, breathing in the scent of Junmyeon’s skin and basking in the weight of Junmyeon’s arms draped over his shoulders. There’s a certain sort of intimacy, sweet comfort in their hug, and Sehun thinks that maybe, definitely he could start coming to terms with this.