arrowlights: A Century of Sleep
Title: A Century of Sleep
Author: arrowlights @ forthcomings
Pairing(s): Yunho/Jaejoong
Rating: PG
Summary: So, the whole myth about becoming infinitely more attractive when you become a vampire is a load of crap. Honestly. Doesn't the theory of natural selection imply that your chances of getting a meal equals to your ability in getting laid? After all, no one is particularly inclined to going off for a one-night stand with someone who isn't at the very least moderately attractive.
Warnings: Cynical and sarcastic!Jaejoong. Vampires. AU.
Word count: 12,680 words
Disclaimer: Totally don't own anything here.
Author's Note: much thanks to angelicbuttons who helped me a lot with it! :D
So, when I was a kid, there was this boy in my class. He didn’t stand out much, I guess, until the day he nearly got kidnapped. We were only kids when it happened; I think we might have been seven, or six?
Anyway, the teacher made him stand in front of the class and tell us about it. Tell us - like we didn’t know it a thousand times already - not to get into a car with a stranger, or strangers.
Ever.
None of us actually knew about what would happen to us if we got into a car with a stranger, per se. But there definitely was some kind of uneasiness that surrounded this issue, and it kind of made me shift in my seat.
It’s different from contesting your parents, different from shoving your baby brother, or colouring on the walls in neon coloured crayons when you’re not supposed to. The stakes are higher, in a way and you can sense it.
Don’t get in. And don’t ever follow.
One of the boys in the classroom, small and scrawny little kid with big eyes and a trembling voice asked: “What happened?” But no one cared about how his voice shook when he asked, or how the teacher gave him a disapproving stare. Because - because everyone wanted to know, see?
What happened when you bit into the forbidden fruit?
But then the teacher came to the front and told us not to discuss the topic anymore, so it was dropped. No one really forgot about it though, so after school a group of kids cornered him behind the school building and leaned in close, whispering.
“What did he look like?” asked a girl whose hair was tied into pigtails. The boy shifted nervously like he wanted to run, shrugging.
“Tall? And um, yeah, really tall. A guy, all in black.” He shrugged again, shoulders rising and falling and glancing behind the crowd, possibly looking for an escape route. The girl with the pigtails leaned in, looking more interested.
“Did you tell the police?”
There was a fast nod, like a little sparrow, his clothes hanging off small limbs. Another girl, who wore spectacles and French braids, looked thoughtful for a moment, chewing her lower lip.
“And they didn’t catch him?” she trilled, voice high and falsetto and the victim seemed to fall slightly, his features pinching.
“No. No, he disappeared. Got into his car and drove away.”
There was a general murmur of disappointment among everyone else, and they pressed in losing, basking in the sudden mystery.
“He got you in his car, didn’t he!” one hissed, almost conspiratorially, and then everyone looked at him, aching with the need to know. He nodded again, and then took on a defensive front.
“It’s not like… it wasn’t that he had candy, or anything. He asked me for directions, but really soft; I couldn’t hear anything. And then, when I walked closer, he just… grabbed me. Like a spider.”
A couple of the smaller kids had to be shushed when they screamed - collectively afraid of arachnids. At his audience’s horror, the boy swelled up slightly, looking oddly pleased.
“And then,” he said almost gleefully, voice changing from timid to theatric. “He bit me.”
There was silence for a moment as everyone stared, awed by this sudden new development - stunned by this man’s appalling behaviour.
“Where?” asked the girl with the spectacles.
“On the neck,” and he tugged his collar down slightly, to reveal the bandage. It was white, with orange coloured Hamtaros printed on it and slightly stretched to cover the wound.
“Cool,” said the girl with the pigtails. Without asking, she reached her chubby fingers to his neck, rubbing the plaster almost carefully.
“Stupid,” the girl with the spectacles snorted, and shook her head almost disapprovingly. “One of those creepy vampire wannabes. They’re so weird.”
Almost instantly, the attention shifted away from him, the victim, as everyone collectively came to a conclusion that this girl was ready to supply answers. Suddenly freed from the onslaught of attention, the relief suddenly made itself known on his face. He stepped back, slunk around the corner back towards the parking lot, and into his mother’s car.
None of the kids that day had thought or wondered how he’d gotten away. Even the policemen who had saved him had never really understood it.
But I know.
There’s something you should know, before we start.
I was that little boy.
I was Kim Jaejoong, aged seven, slowly dying in the backseat of a black Mercedes.
And that? That was the easy part.
-----
We don’t really talk about vampires, and I guess that kind of is a given, considering the society we live in. It’s hard to find a good place to slot them into the conversation without feeling utterly awkward. For example, you can’t really open up with a tirade on the drought we (always) seem to be having, then cheerfully swap topics halfway and start chatting about how it’s really not that bad. The earth might be cracking, the lawns about the catch fire and the water supply becoming pathetically lesser and lesser as days go by, but at least it means that the night crawlers are still stuck in their caves.
See what I mean? Total shut down. You say something like that, and people automatically assume and look at you like you’re a freak. “Vampires,” they’ll hiss at one another with their little superior smiles that look like that they’re just humouring you, and roll their fake long-lashed eyes, ”Really”.
Because, you know, vampires just sound ridiculous. Let’s say you go up to some guy and start jamming a wooden stick in his chest, and of course somebody’s going to call the cops on you. I don’t really get how that piece of folklore came about, actually. You think it’d be much easier if Ye Old Vampire Hunters invented some sort of vampire-grenade thing, instead of having a really big splinter and a gavel.
But hey, what do I know? I’m just the victim.
I’ll tell you that right upfront. No, I do not spit acid or shoot lasers from my eyes, no matter how cool that may sound. I don’t howl at the moon, nor do I climb on ceilings. I am not some kind of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I do not run around kicking undead ass in ultra-cool boots. I cannot even walk around properly in platform boots. Being in the same room as platform boots is usually enough to make me run into something absolutely huge and impossible to miss. No matter how cool they look, or how pretty I think they are. Something huge and impossible to miss? Example: a building. You think I would have used the sidewalk, but no. Lo and behold, some evil fiend stuck a building in front of me, and I nearly broke my nose.
In my defense, sneakers are much quieter. And you can make them pretty and shiny. Also, Converse are in right now.
But we were talking about vampires, weren’t we? Not many people believe in vampires, well… except the easily-excitable teenager, or the super-psycho occult creeper.
Oh and before we continue, I think this is one thing I should mention - the infamous, vampire-is-equal-and-synonymous-with-eye-candy stereotype.
This is complete and utter rubbish. If this was actually true, there would be a sudden influx of undead models who, damnation or no, would be willing to sell their souls for a couple of shoots they might actually be allowed to wear some clothes for. The whole idea and principle of being a vampire is suffering eternal damnation. I don’t think the higher powers really felt like throwing in a vat of pheromones to soften the blow.
But don’t worry. I assure you, most vampires are indeed fairly good looking, as is the main lead of the story. He’s very good looking indeed. You see? I understand your cravings for literary voyeurism. But the main point I am trying to get across here is that vampires do not wake up one day, suddenly realizing that they have become breathlessly attractive. This, dear readers, is nothing more than the process of natural selection at work.
Think about it, ladies and gentlemen. Your chances of getting a meal are in direct correlation to how good you are in getting laid. Because frankly speaking, no one is inclined to go off for a one-night stand with a person who isn’t at the very least moderately attractive.
Well, sorry to be harsh, but life isn’t exactly fair. Or exactly kind.
Actually, life isn’t kind or fair. Life just is. You know, I’ve never really thought about what I was doing, on whether it was ‘good’ or ‘bad’, I merely did what I thought was a good choice at that time, and at one point of time, I might have strayed from the path fate wanted me to take.
Someone led me from it.
His name was Yunho. We weren’t soul mates - just to clear this up, if you’re looking for star-crossed lovers or epics, then I advise you not to read this. I don’t think someone of this mindset would honestly understand what this really was to me, and I absolutely abhor the thought of diminishing something real into whatever cardboard imperfections you have in your mind.
I don’t mean to be cruel, or hard. But if you take away his flaws, probably hardened by years of self-loathing (I’m taking a guess here), he’s nothing. He’s not Yunho anymore. I don’t want to make him eloquent or funny, and I don’t want you to nurse the hopes that somewhere deep down he has a truly sensitive soul.
I’m not surprised it’s dead, honestly. It’s a dog eat dog world when it comes to vampires, and feelings are simply nothing but a liability to survival.
I’ll tell you honestly, he didn’t. But I chose him anyway. He was still mine.
This wasn’t destiny - this was choice.
-----
Introductions aside, let’s move along; the story can now begin.
I mentioned earlier that I was kidnapped when I was seven. Not by Yunho, in fact, it wasn’t even by a full vampire. But Yunho was in the car, and he was the one who saved me.
I was late for school, and I was running down the block. It was raining kind of pathetically, flimsy drops misting all over the street and turning my skin cold. It was just enough to make me feel uncomfortably damp, but not heavy enough that it called for an umbrella.
Though it’s not much of a surprise, since where I live, it rarely rains. Once, we went through nearly three hundred days without the faintest hint of precipitation.
I didn’t notice the black Mercedes, even though it drove past me twice before swerving in and halting abruptly at the curb.
In hindsight, it was kind of stupid for me to have gone so close, but hey, I was only seven. At seven, you don’t think of conspiracy theories. At seven, no one can possibly lie to you.
The man who grabbed me, he had turned himself into a vampire. It’s a difficult thing to do, to blacken your soul so deeply, but it doesn’t really happen anymore.
He was a freak. Mentally, as well as physically, for he looked pale and sallow and with bloodshot eyes, the stereotypical image of a vampire, as he pulled me into the car, one hand covering my mouth as I screamed. I’m sure you can probably imagine what kind of person he had to be, if the first victim he chose to feed on was a little boy.
I can still remember what it felt like. I was screaming as I was pulled in, then for the longest time I was just paralysed, limp as a doll in shock, utterly confused as to what was happening.
Then his teeth broke through the skin on my neck, and I started screaming.
There is no way to think, when you’re about to die. You panic, and then you struggle - but then your system starts shutting down and your body throws out all the stops. Think of it like trying to keep the Titanic from hitting the iceberg. It’s slow, but it’s inevitable.
As your consciousness fades, you are beyond fear, and you can only sink into despair.
“I told you, children are forbidden,” I heard, and then the man was pulled off me, my neck wet and slippery, and I looked a sight, a mess of scruffy clothes and childish sobs, screaming for my mother.
Oh, gosh. How badly I wanted my mother, at that instant.
“Stop crying,” ordered that same voice - and I recognised authority when I heard it and so I did. Immediately.
The man who had bitten me was lying on the floor of the car, quite still and with his neck twisted at an odd angle. I nudged my feet away from him, still shivering, but staying mute, afraid to incur his wrath.
“Bastard,” spat the man darkly in the left passenger seat. I was still pressed to the right side, against the door, and I looked up. That was when I got my first look at Yunho.
He was good looking, and fit the vampire stereotype well, though at age seven, I didn’t exactly care about this. He had pale skin accentuated by dark hair, eyes and clothes, but one of the most striking things about Yunho was the way he moved. Even I could see it, as a child. He had a tense air about him, as though he was suspecting some kind of attack, and you could see the muscles under his clothes. He was subtly intimidating when he looked serious, though at that time, I was too overly concerned about the hand I pressed to my neck, blood burning in between my fingers.
“I don’t have time for this,” he muttered to himself almost exasperatedly, before ordering the driver curtly, “Take us to the doctor’s. Cut some lights.”
I had stayed silent for nearly two minutes (or slightly less, my memory fails me) before the aftershock rolled up on me. I started shaking horrible and no matter how still I tried to be they still slipped through. Yunho took one glance at me when my teeth started chattering, before sighing and staring back out of the window.
“Am I going to die?” I blurted out, before I snapped my mouth shut again, pretty sure and rather terrified that he was going to snap my neck like he did to my attacker.
Yunho turned at me to give me a frustrated look before he turned back to the window again, tracking the raindrops as they slid down his window. “No.”
I didn’t want to press my good fortune, but the man at my feet was still there, so vividly. “Will I… Will I turn into a vampire?”
“You aren’t damned,” he replied shortly. “Just a little bit grayer. Now shut up.”
I clammed up instantly, and repeated his words to myself over and over again like a mantra, until my shaking had subsided. I kept one hand at my neck, even though the bleeding was slowing down and had almost stopped.
When the car pulled into the parking lot, I opened the car door and stood - and then nearly tumbled down, dizzy from the blood loss. I stumbled onto the curb and promptly collapsed, and skinned my knee in the process.
No one came running out of the office, and the Mercedes had already driven away.
I was too tired - too exhausted - to think or panic anymore, and stared blankly at the cement, wondering once again if I was going to die.
The ground beneath me was cold and wet, soaking through the thin clothes I wore and freezing my skin, the sudden chill however did jolt me awake and keep me from unconsciousness.
When Yunho picked me up, doing so with one arm, I kept my arms around his neck, and I bled all over his suit. “Are you a vampire?” I asked; and I remember my voice was hushed, full of childish awe.
He never said anything, though, only opened the door to the doctor’s office.
“I won’t tell anyone,” I promised him, and I figured we were even.
When I woke up, the world was white, my mother was crying, and no one really knew how I managed to drag myself almost five kilometers, bleeding, to the nearest hospital, but then again, no one really cared to find out either.
They simply didn’t have the time to chase down a few kidnappers, I think. Or maybe they never really cared. It suited me either way, and I said nothing about Yunho to anyone. Not the doctors, not the police, not my parents, and not even my friends.
It was ten years before I saw him again.
He was still twenty-one.
-----
At this point, I’d like to point out that without me, Yunho would probably do something incredibly stupid, like repeat his first year of university for the rest of his undead life. Or maybe the term “undying” would apply better. Whatever. Anyway, he doesn’t make very good decisions. Actually, for the short amount of time I knew him, he seemed pretty bent on being as masochistic as he possibly could.
But actually, little things like laws and senseless violence sort of lose their impact when you can’t exactly die from those means.
So, while apparently he’s a glutton for punishment, I was busy getting into my role as the helpless victim.
Oh, gag me now.
You think, that at seventeen, I would have developed a functioning brain, or maybe invested in something akin to a personalized Jiminy Cricket (I blame Heechul for passing his Disney fixation to me). Something, anything that would smack me on the back of my head and screech: “Yeah, hello, you know you look like a girl and staying out late isn’t exactly the wisest thing to do?”
On second thought, that would have been kind of annoying.
And in my defense, I was only moderately stupid. At least I didn’t take a short cut down a dark alley (clichéd, much?) after hanging out in a nightclub. Because, you know, if I did I’d probably have been mauled by something, saved by Mysterious Hottie A, dragged back towards his mansion which would, of course, be filled with lots of men prettier than I was, and I would be free to take my pick, but I’m betting more than fifty percent of all voters are pulling for the vampire.
-----
Actually, nothing that outlandish happened. I was actually just… getting some ice cream. At 11:47 PM, definitely not two in the morning. And it wasn’t in the hottest new nightclub, Mirotic, in town, but the seedy 7-11 just three blocks away.
Yes, I was wearing skinny jeans. So what? I have nice legs. You got a problem with that? Bite me. (Get it? Get it? Oh god, I am just so clever.)
So, back to the story. There I was in my skinny jeans buying my ice-cream, and I was both tired and cranky from a long day juggling college and an internship at the hospital, so when the guy standing in line in front of me pulled out a gun on the cashier, my reaction was totally not a reasonable one.
Reasonable options included running away and screaming, subtly calling the police, or just ducking low and not drawing any attention to anyone, particularly yourself.
Well, admittedly, since when had I made the smart and prudent choice? I voluntarily went after a vampire, for goodness’ sake. I’m sure psychologists all over the world are busily jabbing about self-destructive tendencies and whatnot.
What I ended up doing was getting really, really pissed off. You would have been too, in my position. It’s toddler’s psychology, really. Deny someone their ice-cream, and they start getting kind of upset.
“Oh, God,” the poor, chubby cashier squeaked, and there was the noise of the safety on the gun clicking off.
“You call the cops and I’ll shoot you in the eye,” said the guy in front of me. We’ll call him Ralph, since in the middle of an attempted robbery, I am the sort of person who notices that the bad guy is wearing a Ralph Lauren polo shirt, and that it’s a ladies’ cut.
“I…I’m not!” said the poor cashier. Her batman comic was greasy around the corners, and there was even a small ketchup stain stuck to the inner crease of her mouth. She edged towards the cash register, her hands shaking so hard that for a moment there I thought she might just pass out.
She fumbled with the buttons and slipped around, then there was this awful, sick crash as she managed to send the register skittering to the floor. Ralph started yelling some really nasty things then, and she actually started crying; she was so tripped out, and the whole thing was just getting on my nerves and making me really, really mad.
So I said, “Hey, can I just buy this first?”
And when Ralph turned around, I socked him in the nose.
It was so much cooler than it sounded. I know that you think that a 1.8 metre tall, scrawny teenager with platinum blonde hair punching a heavy-set, abnormally tall man would be kind of like rain on a window - it’d just slip off.
Yeah, well, it didn’t. I totally sent that guy flying!
“Do bwoke my fubbing nods!” Ralph yelled at me, and he was bleeding everywhere, all down his shirt and all over his face and I don’t know, I just kind of mentally dusted off my hands and put my hands on my hips and it was all very, very Buffy.
Or it was, until Ralph punched me in the chest. No, actually, why sugarcoat it? The little dipshit hit me right where I did my nipple piercing.
If you’re a girl, think of it as someone hitting your boobs. And if you’re a guy? Just compare it to being castrated, and we’re just about even.
I was kind of hunched over and hissing rather ferally when Yunho saw me for the first time in ten years. The first word he heard me say started with an F and had four letters. It was the second and third word he heard, too.
“I can’t believe you punched me in the chest, you - you jerk!” I sputtered, because honestly! What kind of asshole punches someone at where they did a piercing? That is so clearly not allowed.
Because I was hunched over and gasping in pain and clutching at my chest and everything else, I didn’t hear the door chime open when Yunho came in, and neither did Ralph, I guess.
Ralph reached up and grabbed my hair and wrenched me down so hard I nearly fell and my eyes got all watery because that really freaking hurt too. But because I am the helpless victim here, I am automatically allowed to fight dirty.
So I elbowed his already-broken nose, hard.
I am also vaguely proud of the fact that I, at least, did not cry first.
The cashier had taken Ralph’s gun in the struggle and was holding it vaguely, apparently too shell shocked to properly react. And she was robotically hammering down on the distress button, over and over again, her eyes glazed.
I took a deep breath and pulled myself upright, and while limping, picked up my ice cream, and faced the checkout counter.
Yunho had cut me.
I just kind of stared at the back of him, completely and utterly flabbergasted, and contemplated another cat fight.
“Are you going to ring this up?” Yunho asked the cashier impatiently. He had his hands in his pockets, was covered from head to toe in black, and had all the bored grace of a panther.
He was also a lot prettier, now that I had hormones.
The cashier stuttered at him, and Yunho sighed irritably, digging through his wallet and tossing a twenty thousand won note on the counter pointedly before turning to walk out.
“That will most probably cover your ice cream,” he said lowly as he passed me, and I spun.
I had not seen his face throughout this, only the back of his head. Something about his voice though, struck me as extremely familiar. But it wasn’t until I caught sight of him that I knew.
He later told me that my eyes got extremely big and my jaw went slack, but whether it was true fact or his idea of flirting-slash-exaggeration, I wasn’t too sure.
“You?” I asked, really loudly, and I didn’t realise that I had grabbed his arm until he tried to tug it free from my grasp. I didn’t let go. I think I might have held on tighter. “But you’re…”
I trailed off, snapping my jaw shut as I remembered the cameras that were most likely taping every single moment of this. His expression was guarded, dark eyes unreadable, and it suddenly came to me that he probably did not recognise me. Of course he wouldn’t. That was ten years ago - I didn’t even have the same hair colour as I had back then. (I dyed my hair platinum blonde when I hit sixteen.)
He started walking, and I was pulled along, out of the store and into the dark, dark night.
When I was getting into his car it suddenly shocked me into realizing what I was doing - and what he was.
My hand stalled over the seat belt, and whatever daze or lull he might have put me under was quickly shaken off. “Wait - wait, you can’t eat me!”
I know, I know, I make fabulous first impressions, don’t I?
Yunho went very still, but people were still stealing looks at us through the windshield, noses pressed to the gas station’s windows.
I started talking really quickly. “I mean, I… I know. That you’re a vampire. I’ve known for ten years.” I clammed up then, and he was staring at me like he didn’t know what to do with me exactly - if it’d be better to hide me in the gutter, and make me get out of the car.
“… That was you.” He sighed, and fell back into his seat with a groan, “perfect.”
He looked extremely tired, and I took my time looking at him. Pretty boy? Yes, indeed.
“I think I owe you,” I said then, and looked, and look, and made my decision. Maybe I was just bored. Maybe I was really, seriously, harbouring some secret, self-destructive tendencies. Another thing that’s big for vampires is the concept of debt, and it’s a concept that extends deep. If either of us recognised the contract, we were tied. I wanted to be tied.
I remembered him picking me up and carrying me, when I’d been small and scrawny, and I wondered if he could feel anything.
“Don’t,” Yunho said wearily, and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe it was impulse, but I reached out and touched his hand.
“It’s warm,” I said, with some surprise, because I thought it would have been solid and hard, like ice maybe. Like a corpse. That was another stereotype gone down the drain.
“Of course it is,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, the first display of any emotions I’d ever seen from him. “I’m not dead.”
“I thought that was kind of the point of being a vampire,” I remarked, snapping my seat belt into place. I checked my ice-cream, discovered it had melted, and then debated mentally on whether I should eat it, after which I promptly started drinking.
“Your heart still beats, how else are you going to move?” he said idly, and then seemed to realise that I was still there. Actually, I never had any intention of leaving.
I should explain, I guess. I’m not going to try and convince you that I loved him or anything, not yet. I wasn’t particularly obsessed with vampires - honestly? They just sounded like glorified cannibals to me. Yunho seemed to be drawing the same conclusion, because he was pointedly clicking the locks open.
“What are you doing?” Yunho asked. I thought he looked a little freaked. But then, he generally gets a little twitchy when he’s confused.
I waved an idle hand, like I didn’t really care. “Oh, go on. Drive. Pick up some hot girls.” I put my feet on the dashboard, but he knocked them down. I stared at him for a good thirty seconds, and then put them back up. Again, he knocked them down.
“Yeah, we’re going to have to talk about that,” I told him, and buried my face back into my carton of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. Yunho looked vaguely revolted.
“Get out of my car. And for goodness’ sake eat with a spoon."
Please, ladies and gentlemen, note the afterthought. This is what we refer to as “anal retentive”. It’d be kind of cute if it wasn’t absolutely annoying.
“Fine,” I closed the cover of the carton and turned to face him. “You want to know what this is about, then here it is. I don’t leave my debts unpaid. As of now, I officially owe you my life and about seven thousand won.”
Having remembered that last statement, I reached into my wallet, pulled out a couple of bills and held it out. He didn’t take it. I put it on the dashboard, and wondered why this felt like I was paying a hooker.
“Jaejoong,” he said, kind of warningly.
I didn’t notice at this time, but I hadn’t told him my name. I smiled brightly. “I’m sorry. I’m being obnoxious and irritating because you scare the shit out of me. Another side effect is awkward honesty, like I have just displayed.”
Yunho’s jaw tightened. “Why don’t you repay me by just leaving me alone?”
“Don’t you get tired of being alone?” I shot back, and then snapped my mouth shut with a vaguely horrified expression on my face, wondering how hard that hit.
Yunho never blinked.
To this day, I still wish I hadn’t said it.
“Shockingly, I prefer it to your company,” he said icily, and for a second, I had a flash of him snapping another man’s neck, easy as you please.
I didn’t say anything for a long while. “I’m sorry,” I said, because I honestly couldn’t think of anything else to say, and because it’s such an easy filler. “I… I really am.”
“Look,” Yunho bit out. “I’m hungry. And since you’re not really an option right now, scram.”
I felt just the tiniest bit hurt. “Why am I not an option?”
Yunho just stared at me. I continued, “Is it because my blood is like, super icky? Would it help if I ate bananas? I heard mosquitoes are more attracted to people who’ve eaten-“
“I’m not a bug,” Yunho said grumpily, and I shut up immediately, eyes wide.
“That came out wrong,” I mumbled to the ice cream carton, and the marshmallows inside were all laughing at my utterly pathetic attempt to win over a guy. Honestly, I usually do a better job than this!
I had a thought, “I bet you don’t even want me gone. I think that if you really did, you would have just like, thrown me out of the car by now or eaten me or something.”
“Forgive me for attempting diplomacy,” Yunho seethed, and I reflected that maybe he wasn’t very nice.
I got out of the car. “I’m not forgetting. I still owe you.”
He rolled up the windows and drove away without a word.
-----
I kind of thought that might have been the end of it. I mean, I tried. I shamelessly threw myself at him, really, went from insulting to sweet, to brazen and none of it, absolutely none of it worked. But I still thought about him. Maybe it was an idealization, but I kind of made him larger than life. Some part of child-worship still remembered him picking me up when I was frail and weak and completely helpless, and the total relief of being saved.
It sounds stupid.
It was.
-----
Yunho knocked on my door two months later. I was the only one at home, but that wasn’t really surprising. He was leaning hard against the doorframe, one hand clenched tight around his side. Blood was spilling in between his fingers and his teeth were grinding together. He looked worse for wear, and the sight of him hurt was… strange, to put it mildly. I couldn’t really believe it.
“How do you know where I live?” I blurted out, and Yunho looked a little like he wanted to leave.
“You’re the governor’s son, and it’s a big house,” he hissed between his teeth, and I noticed him eyeing the empty halls behind me. I blinked, and then I slowly stepped to the side, leaving the entrance open.
“Right. Um. Should I call an ambulance.”
“Don’t,” he said curtly, and I wasn’t really surprised. I showed him to the bathroom, and he didn’t wait for me to leave before pulling his shirt off. I sucked in my breath, terrified at the evil looking slice, which ran diagonally across his back from his shoulder blades to just below his ribcage.
“I need you to do something for me,” he said curtly. He was moving gingerly, hissing, afraid to aggravate the wound. “Sew me up.”
“But you’re a-” I took a numbed step forward, setting one hand on his shoulder and feeling the skin. “ I thought you couldn’t die.”
“I can’t move if I bleed too much,” he said by way of explanation, and was handing me a needle and thread. I stared at them, feeling suddenly sick.
“Jaejoong,” he called, insistently, and I glanced at all the blood on the floor, before taking the needle between my shaking fingers.
I hated needles.
I really hated needles.
Ironic, wasn’t it? A doctor-in-training who’s afraid of needles.
“I can’t…” I cut myself off, feeling my fingers shiver.
“Please,” Yunho said, and there was something almost like desperation when he looked at me. Maybe that was why I stood up straighter and stopped.
I took a very slow breath, and blew out all the fear.
When I was done, I set the needle aside on the counter and bit off the thread. I stared at the neat little stitches (oh, the perks of living with eight older sisters), before looking down at the bloody mess I’d become.
Yunho didn’t move; his head was still bowed. Hesitating for a brief moment, I touched his shoulder again, marring the perfect white skin with violent red fingerprints. “So, are we even?”
“You never owed me in the first place,” he said, and there was just a trace of self-hatred in his voice when he said that: “I never stopped him. I never did anything.”
“You saved my life,” I argued, angry at him for a second. “Don’t make it sound like nothing, because it’s not. It’s not.”
He didn’t say anything and I dug in my fingers, because I would not let this go. I would not let him go.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, and stood to leave. I watched him rise, slip past me, and caught sight of Bloody Mary in the mirror, smiling wanly at her reflection.
“You don’t have to be so alone,” I whispered, more to the mirror than to him, but he paused anyway, and when he turned I wanted to sing the sorrow.
When I stepped forward he stepped back, and hit the door. I moved in, closer still, but I couldn’t blink.
I wondered why he looked so scared.
I kissed him carefully, and felt his eyelashes brush against his face as he closed his eyes. It was very light, and very soft, and very fragile. When he put his hands on my waist I thought he was going to push me away.
He tasted a little like December, with a hint of spring and tainted by ashes.
“I’m not running,” I whispered onto his lips, “I promise.”
Sometimes, I wonder if I made the right choice. I knew what I was doing, declaring war on eternity, and stabbing my heart with Cupid’s sharpest arrows, but I was young then, and drunk off of the would-have-been’s and adoring the forbidden.
But more than any of that, I didn’t want for him to look so alone. That was all.
It might have been the wrong choice, but I would never take it back.
That was how we began.
-----
Well, that was a let down.
Not even halfway through the story and I’ve already snagged the hottie, right? And this is where the doldrums set in. This is where Cinderella kisses Prince Charming and the screen pans upwards for a sky shot, and because everyone’s satisfied, no one really wants to stick around for the divorce.
Of course they’d get a divorce. She’s like, what? Sixteen? I think you still need parental consent for getting married - Charming probably bought them all off. Filthy rich bastards.
Sometimes, you know, I’d sit around and stare at my algebra homework and just-imagine. Like the copper on my ring finger was a diamond, like I was older and-and Yunho would still look the same.
Yunho will always look the same.
I never really said anything, but I was always thinking about it. Every time I kissed him, touched him, caught him watching me, it kind of settled in. Because his heart might’ve been beating, but I don’t know if you can truly be alive if you’re absent of death.
I was going to have to choose.
I wasn’t in love with Yunho when I kissed him, that first time. I wasn’t even sure I liked him, honestly, and I know that sounds terrible, but it’s just a kiss. It’s intimate, I guess, but it’s not the same as asking someone to marry you, date you, adore you, whatever. You need to understand that, because I don’t want you to think that there are explosions and magic and flying elephants whenever two people lock lips-because that’s not really true, and the only instant connection I can imagine sounds pretty painful and involves super glue.
-----
I’m not totally sure how Yunho managed to survive for so long.
In all honesty, the guy’s kind of a social retard. I mean, sure, he’s pretty to look at, but he’s about as huggable as a cactus. If I weren’t a total freak of nature, he’d scare me shitless. And he did, for a while, until I made myself get used to him. He was a lot less creepy after we’d had some very awkward conversations. Probably because he really, really distanced himself after being a vampire. Try having no human contact for at least 20 years and you’ll see what I mean.
Yeah, as if the whole thing wasn’t screwy enough, not only did I have to deal with being the giddy lovesick teenager, fretting over whether kissing was enough to declare us as a couple, I had more pressing things on my mind. Instead of imagining our first date, I was trying to work out where we’d hide the bodies.
I’m kidding, of course.
But if I weren’t totally joking, I’d probably suggest a tank of piranhas; destruction of evidence, and all that. I bet I could even make the feds believe they were goldfish-it all depends on how low-cut the shirt is.
I didn’t see him for a couple of days after that. It wasn’t until I had the bright idea to go and get myself on the brink of serious trouble that he finally popped up.
“You could have just gotten a cell phone,” I complained, and trotted after him as he shouldered out of the dark corners. My utterly fantastic, come-hither-all-ye-vampires plan had been utterly foolproof. I wore too much eyeliner and took a short cut through an alley. Obviously, they flocked to me. Obviously, Yunho came running.
What a softie.
“You could invest in some common sense,” he returned, and I pouted. Talk about utterly unreasonable and unfair!
“So I was thinking,” I said breezily, still stalking away, “That maybe you could hang out with me. Sometimes. During more normal hours of the day.”
“I don’t go out in the sunlight.” Yunho said, with a pointedly quirked eyebrow, and I frowned at him.
“Okay. But, like, I could get you some SPF30, or an umbrella, or something.” I nagged, and wondered why this felt more like extortion than it did flirtation. Yunho was walking so quickly, he was like one of those granny-joggers.
“I mean, sunlight makes me disappear. When you’re just a shadow, you can’t last in the light.” He added the last bit like he was explaining, and I pursed my lips and started jogging. God, this guy was way too difficult. If I wasn’t so set on keeping him from being a sociopath, I would totally have just ditched the dork.
And he was a pretty good kisser. But that was really only a perk.
I stuck out my tongue and crossed my eyes. Yeah, I sure showed him.
-----
Needless to say, Yunho didn’t think it was very funny when I figured out where his lair was. Or should I say…the bat cave.
I know. I’m hilarious. He thought so too.
His primary tactic was to not answer the door. It worked for about half an hour, until I started singing and all the neighbors started complaining, and the woman across the street threatened to call the cops if the screaming didn’t stop, so Yunho managed to crack the door and tell me to go away.
“It’s dark outside and I’m in a shady neighborhood,” I told him, and he got all narrow-eyed and squinty.
“You managed to get here okay.” He pointed out, and I made my eyes all big and watery.
“Exactly! Now I’m even more statistically likely to be raped!”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he said through gritted teeth, and I strode past him. I started poking through his kitchen. I kind of expected there’d be big vats of blood in the freezer, but all I found were a couple of bottles of kimchi and some rice balls.
Talk about going vegetarian.
Weird.
He didn’t move from the front door, “Jaejoong, get out.”
“I just got here!” I complained, because I was pretty sure he didn’t actually want me to leave. He muttered, and shut the door. I internally celebrated. Hah-called it.
I felt-I don’t know. Sharp. Everything I said was too cheerful, every time I laughed, it came out too loud. It wasn’t that I was trying to seduce him, more that I wanted to prove a point. And he-intrigued me. What a corny thing to say. The problem with clichés is that they usually apply, much as we might resent it.
Which brings me to another off-topic rhetorical question; do you know how hard it is to write a romance? Because it is. It’s all been done before. Which just goes to show that in our hearts, we are all horny bastards. Except maybe the vampire standing behind me, who is apparently incapable of human emotion. If he doesn’t believe in love, or has some sort of hormonal explosion, I am so totally out of here.
Seriously, a hormonal explosion? What is with that?
I’m pretty sure it wasn’t going to happen though, considering what I was wearing and he still hadn’t pulled a move.
Clearly, we are a torrid love affair in the making. I should invest in a nurse’s outfit. My sisters did say I would look better than them in a dress; not that that’s exactly flattering.
When I turned around from busily and over-animatedly examining his fridge, Yunho was standing right behind me, inches away. On reflex, I stepped backwards, more startled than anything. His eyes tracked my progress, and I got the sinking shudder of a realized mistake.
He stepped nearer, put one hand on my neck. I couldn’t even blink, felt my heart rate accelerate. It was fight or flight and I was just stuck there, pulse like a jack-hammer and not sure of what anything was.
“You wouldn’t be able to stop me.” He said, just stating, fingers cool. I shivered as they wrapped around, and tried to find the answer in his face, but could only watch as the ink ran off the paper.
“I don’t know,” I said, dizzy, “Does it hurt a vampire if I kick them in the balls?”
He didn’t smile, “You don’t have a reason for doing this,” he insisted, “Just go home.”
I raised a hand of my own and let it wrap around his wrist, but didn’t pull him away, “See?” I smiled, “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Yunho let his hand fall back to his side and looked away, but I could tell he was unhappy.
Part 2
Author: arrowlights @ forthcomings
Pairing(s): Yunho/Jaejoong
Rating: PG
Summary: So, the whole myth about becoming infinitely more attractive when you become a vampire is a load of crap. Honestly. Doesn't the theory of natural selection imply that your chances of getting a meal equals to your ability in getting laid? After all, no one is particularly inclined to going off for a one-night stand with someone who isn't at the very least moderately attractive.
Warnings: Cynical and sarcastic!Jaejoong. Vampires. AU.
Word count: 12,680 words
Disclaimer: Totally don't own anything here.
Author's Note: much thanks to angelicbuttons who helped me a lot with it! :D
So, when I was a kid, there was this boy in my class. He didn’t stand out much, I guess, until the day he nearly got kidnapped. We were only kids when it happened; I think we might have been seven, or six?
Anyway, the teacher made him stand in front of the class and tell us about it. Tell us - like we didn’t know it a thousand times already - not to get into a car with a stranger, or strangers.
Ever.
None of us actually knew about what would happen to us if we got into a car with a stranger, per se. But there definitely was some kind of uneasiness that surrounded this issue, and it kind of made me shift in my seat.
It’s different from contesting your parents, different from shoving your baby brother, or colouring on the walls in neon coloured crayons when you’re not supposed to. The stakes are higher, in a way and you can sense it.
Don’t get in. And don’t ever follow.
One of the boys in the classroom, small and scrawny little kid with big eyes and a trembling voice asked: “What happened?” But no one cared about how his voice shook when he asked, or how the teacher gave him a disapproving stare. Because - because everyone wanted to know, see?
What happened when you bit into the forbidden fruit?
But then the teacher came to the front and told us not to discuss the topic anymore, so it was dropped. No one really forgot about it though, so after school a group of kids cornered him behind the school building and leaned in close, whispering.
“What did he look like?” asked a girl whose hair was tied into pigtails. The boy shifted nervously like he wanted to run, shrugging.
“Tall? And um, yeah, really tall. A guy, all in black.” He shrugged again, shoulders rising and falling and glancing behind the crowd, possibly looking for an escape route. The girl with the pigtails leaned in, looking more interested.
“Did you tell the police?”
There was a fast nod, like a little sparrow, his clothes hanging off small limbs. Another girl, who wore spectacles and French braids, looked thoughtful for a moment, chewing her lower lip.
“And they didn’t catch him?” she trilled, voice high and falsetto and the victim seemed to fall slightly, his features pinching.
“No. No, he disappeared. Got into his car and drove away.”
There was a general murmur of disappointment among everyone else, and they pressed in losing, basking in the sudden mystery.
“He got you in his car, didn’t he!” one hissed, almost conspiratorially, and then everyone looked at him, aching with the need to know. He nodded again, and then took on a defensive front.
“It’s not like… it wasn’t that he had candy, or anything. He asked me for directions, but really soft; I couldn’t hear anything. And then, when I walked closer, he just… grabbed me. Like a spider.”
A couple of the smaller kids had to be shushed when they screamed - collectively afraid of arachnids. At his audience’s horror, the boy swelled up slightly, looking oddly pleased.
“And then,” he said almost gleefully, voice changing from timid to theatric. “He bit me.”
There was silence for a moment as everyone stared, awed by this sudden new development - stunned by this man’s appalling behaviour.
“Where?” asked the girl with the spectacles.
“On the neck,” and he tugged his collar down slightly, to reveal the bandage. It was white, with orange coloured Hamtaros printed on it and slightly stretched to cover the wound.
“Cool,” said the girl with the pigtails. Without asking, she reached her chubby fingers to his neck, rubbing the plaster almost carefully.
“Stupid,” the girl with the spectacles snorted, and shook her head almost disapprovingly. “One of those creepy vampire wannabes. They’re so weird.”
Almost instantly, the attention shifted away from him, the victim, as everyone collectively came to a conclusion that this girl was ready to supply answers. Suddenly freed from the onslaught of attention, the relief suddenly made itself known on his face. He stepped back, slunk around the corner back towards the parking lot, and into his mother’s car.
None of the kids that day had thought or wondered how he’d gotten away. Even the policemen who had saved him had never really understood it.
But I know.
There’s something you should know, before we start.
I was that little boy.
I was Kim Jaejoong, aged seven, slowly dying in the backseat of a black Mercedes.
And that? That was the easy part.
-----
We don’t really talk about vampires, and I guess that kind of is a given, considering the society we live in. It’s hard to find a good place to slot them into the conversation without feeling utterly awkward. For example, you can’t really open up with a tirade on the drought we (always) seem to be having, then cheerfully swap topics halfway and start chatting about how it’s really not that bad. The earth might be cracking, the lawns about the catch fire and the water supply becoming pathetically lesser and lesser as days go by, but at least it means that the night crawlers are still stuck in their caves.
See what I mean? Total shut down. You say something like that, and people automatically assume and look at you like you’re a freak. “Vampires,” they’ll hiss at one another with their little superior smiles that look like that they’re just humouring you, and roll their fake long-lashed eyes, ”Really”.
Because, you know, vampires just sound ridiculous. Let’s say you go up to some guy and start jamming a wooden stick in his chest, and of course somebody’s going to call the cops on you. I don’t really get how that piece of folklore came about, actually. You think it’d be much easier if Ye Old Vampire Hunters invented some sort of vampire-grenade thing, instead of having a really big splinter and a gavel.
But hey, what do I know? I’m just the victim.
I’ll tell you that right upfront. No, I do not spit acid or shoot lasers from my eyes, no matter how cool that may sound. I don’t howl at the moon, nor do I climb on ceilings. I am not some kind of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I do not run around kicking undead ass in ultra-cool boots. I cannot even walk around properly in platform boots. Being in the same room as platform boots is usually enough to make me run into something absolutely huge and impossible to miss. No matter how cool they look, or how pretty I think they are. Something huge and impossible to miss? Example: a building. You think I would have used the sidewalk, but no. Lo and behold, some evil fiend stuck a building in front of me, and I nearly broke my nose.
In my defense, sneakers are much quieter. And you can make them pretty and shiny. Also, Converse are in right now.
But we were talking about vampires, weren’t we? Not many people believe in vampires, well… except the easily-excitable teenager, or the super-psycho occult creeper.
Oh and before we continue, I think this is one thing I should mention - the infamous, vampire-is-equal-and-synonymous-with-eye-candy stereotype.
This is complete and utter rubbish. If this was actually true, there would be a sudden influx of undead models who, damnation or no, would be willing to sell their souls for a couple of shoots they might actually be allowed to wear some clothes for. The whole idea and principle of being a vampire is suffering eternal damnation. I don’t think the higher powers really felt like throwing in a vat of pheromones to soften the blow.
But don’t worry. I assure you, most vampires are indeed fairly good looking, as is the main lead of the story. He’s very good looking indeed. You see? I understand your cravings for literary voyeurism. But the main point I am trying to get across here is that vampires do not wake up one day, suddenly realizing that they have become breathlessly attractive. This, dear readers, is nothing more than the process of natural selection at work.
Think about it, ladies and gentlemen. Your chances of getting a meal are in direct correlation to how good you are in getting laid. Because frankly speaking, no one is inclined to go off for a one-night stand with a person who isn’t at the very least moderately attractive.
Well, sorry to be harsh, but life isn’t exactly fair. Or exactly kind.
Actually, life isn’t kind or fair. Life just is. You know, I’ve never really thought about what I was doing, on whether it was ‘good’ or ‘bad’, I merely did what I thought was a good choice at that time, and at one point of time, I might have strayed from the path fate wanted me to take.
Someone led me from it.
His name was Yunho. We weren’t soul mates - just to clear this up, if you’re looking for star-crossed lovers or epics, then I advise you not to read this. I don’t think someone of this mindset would honestly understand what this really was to me, and I absolutely abhor the thought of diminishing something real into whatever cardboard imperfections you have in your mind.
I don’t mean to be cruel, or hard. But if you take away his flaws, probably hardened by years of self-loathing (I’m taking a guess here), he’s nothing. He’s not Yunho anymore. I don’t want to make him eloquent or funny, and I don’t want you to nurse the hopes that somewhere deep down he has a truly sensitive soul.
I’m not surprised it’s dead, honestly. It’s a dog eat dog world when it comes to vampires, and feelings are simply nothing but a liability to survival.
I’ll tell you honestly, he didn’t. But I chose him anyway. He was still mine.
This wasn’t destiny - this was choice.
-----
Introductions aside, let’s move along; the story can now begin.
I mentioned earlier that I was kidnapped when I was seven. Not by Yunho, in fact, it wasn’t even by a full vampire. But Yunho was in the car, and he was the one who saved me.
I was late for school, and I was running down the block. It was raining kind of pathetically, flimsy drops misting all over the street and turning my skin cold. It was just enough to make me feel uncomfortably damp, but not heavy enough that it called for an umbrella.
Though it’s not much of a surprise, since where I live, it rarely rains. Once, we went through nearly three hundred days without the faintest hint of precipitation.
I didn’t notice the black Mercedes, even though it drove past me twice before swerving in and halting abruptly at the curb.
In hindsight, it was kind of stupid for me to have gone so close, but hey, I was only seven. At seven, you don’t think of conspiracy theories. At seven, no one can possibly lie to you.
The man who grabbed me, he had turned himself into a vampire. It’s a difficult thing to do, to blacken your soul so deeply, but it doesn’t really happen anymore.
He was a freak. Mentally, as well as physically, for he looked pale and sallow and with bloodshot eyes, the stereotypical image of a vampire, as he pulled me into the car, one hand covering my mouth as I screamed. I’m sure you can probably imagine what kind of person he had to be, if the first victim he chose to feed on was a little boy.
I can still remember what it felt like. I was screaming as I was pulled in, then for the longest time I was just paralysed, limp as a doll in shock, utterly confused as to what was happening.
Then his teeth broke through the skin on my neck, and I started screaming.
There is no way to think, when you’re about to die. You panic, and then you struggle - but then your system starts shutting down and your body throws out all the stops. Think of it like trying to keep the Titanic from hitting the iceberg. It’s slow, but it’s inevitable.
As your consciousness fades, you are beyond fear, and you can only sink into despair.
“I told you, children are forbidden,” I heard, and then the man was pulled off me, my neck wet and slippery, and I looked a sight, a mess of scruffy clothes and childish sobs, screaming for my mother.
Oh, gosh. How badly I wanted my mother, at that instant.
“Stop crying,” ordered that same voice - and I recognised authority when I heard it and so I did. Immediately.
The man who had bitten me was lying on the floor of the car, quite still and with his neck twisted at an odd angle. I nudged my feet away from him, still shivering, but staying mute, afraid to incur his wrath.
“Bastard,” spat the man darkly in the left passenger seat. I was still pressed to the right side, against the door, and I looked up. That was when I got my first look at Yunho.
He was good looking, and fit the vampire stereotype well, though at age seven, I didn’t exactly care about this. He had pale skin accentuated by dark hair, eyes and clothes, but one of the most striking things about Yunho was the way he moved. Even I could see it, as a child. He had a tense air about him, as though he was suspecting some kind of attack, and you could see the muscles under his clothes. He was subtly intimidating when he looked serious, though at that time, I was too overly concerned about the hand I pressed to my neck, blood burning in between my fingers.
“I don’t have time for this,” he muttered to himself almost exasperatedly, before ordering the driver curtly, “Take us to the doctor’s. Cut some lights.”
I had stayed silent for nearly two minutes (or slightly less, my memory fails me) before the aftershock rolled up on me. I started shaking horrible and no matter how still I tried to be they still slipped through. Yunho took one glance at me when my teeth started chattering, before sighing and staring back out of the window.
“Am I going to die?” I blurted out, before I snapped my mouth shut again, pretty sure and rather terrified that he was going to snap my neck like he did to my attacker.
Yunho turned at me to give me a frustrated look before he turned back to the window again, tracking the raindrops as they slid down his window. “No.”
I didn’t want to press my good fortune, but the man at my feet was still there, so vividly. “Will I… Will I turn into a vampire?”
“You aren’t damned,” he replied shortly. “Just a little bit grayer. Now shut up.”
I clammed up instantly, and repeated his words to myself over and over again like a mantra, until my shaking had subsided. I kept one hand at my neck, even though the bleeding was slowing down and had almost stopped.
When the car pulled into the parking lot, I opened the car door and stood - and then nearly tumbled down, dizzy from the blood loss. I stumbled onto the curb and promptly collapsed, and skinned my knee in the process.
No one came running out of the office, and the Mercedes had already driven away.
I was too tired - too exhausted - to think or panic anymore, and stared blankly at the cement, wondering once again if I was going to die.
The ground beneath me was cold and wet, soaking through the thin clothes I wore and freezing my skin, the sudden chill however did jolt me awake and keep me from unconsciousness.
When Yunho picked me up, doing so with one arm, I kept my arms around his neck, and I bled all over his suit. “Are you a vampire?” I asked; and I remember my voice was hushed, full of childish awe.
He never said anything, though, only opened the door to the doctor’s office.
“I won’t tell anyone,” I promised him, and I figured we were even.
When I woke up, the world was white, my mother was crying, and no one really knew how I managed to drag myself almost five kilometers, bleeding, to the nearest hospital, but then again, no one really cared to find out either.
They simply didn’t have the time to chase down a few kidnappers, I think. Or maybe they never really cared. It suited me either way, and I said nothing about Yunho to anyone. Not the doctors, not the police, not my parents, and not even my friends.
It was ten years before I saw him again.
He was still twenty-one.
-----
At this point, I’d like to point out that without me, Yunho would probably do something incredibly stupid, like repeat his first year of university for the rest of his undead life. Or maybe the term “undying” would apply better. Whatever. Anyway, he doesn’t make very good decisions. Actually, for the short amount of time I knew him, he seemed pretty bent on being as masochistic as he possibly could.
But actually, little things like laws and senseless violence sort of lose their impact when you can’t exactly die from those means.
So, while apparently he’s a glutton for punishment, I was busy getting into my role as the helpless victim.
Oh, gag me now.
You think, that at seventeen, I would have developed a functioning brain, or maybe invested in something akin to a personalized Jiminy Cricket (I blame Heechul for passing his Disney fixation to me). Something, anything that would smack me on the back of my head and screech: “Yeah, hello, you know you look like a girl and staying out late isn’t exactly the wisest thing to do?”
On second thought, that would have been kind of annoying.
And in my defense, I was only moderately stupid. At least I didn’t take a short cut down a dark alley (clichéd, much?) after hanging out in a nightclub. Because, you know, if I did I’d probably have been mauled by something, saved by Mysterious Hottie A, dragged back towards his mansion which would, of course, be filled with lots of men prettier than I was, and I would be free to take my pick, but I’m betting more than fifty percent of all voters are pulling for the vampire.
-----
Actually, nothing that outlandish happened. I was actually just… getting some ice cream. At 11:47 PM, definitely not two in the morning. And it wasn’t in the hottest new nightclub, Mirotic, in town, but the seedy 7-11 just three blocks away.
Yes, I was wearing skinny jeans. So what? I have nice legs. You got a problem with that? Bite me. (Get it? Get it? Oh god, I am just so clever.)
So, back to the story. There I was in my skinny jeans buying my ice-cream, and I was both tired and cranky from a long day juggling college and an internship at the hospital, so when the guy standing in line in front of me pulled out a gun on the cashier, my reaction was totally not a reasonable one.
Reasonable options included running away and screaming, subtly calling the police, or just ducking low and not drawing any attention to anyone, particularly yourself.
Well, admittedly, since when had I made the smart and prudent choice? I voluntarily went after a vampire, for goodness’ sake. I’m sure psychologists all over the world are busily jabbing about self-destructive tendencies and whatnot.
What I ended up doing was getting really, really pissed off. You would have been too, in my position. It’s toddler’s psychology, really. Deny someone their ice-cream, and they start getting kind of upset.
“Oh, God,” the poor, chubby cashier squeaked, and there was the noise of the safety on the gun clicking off.
“You call the cops and I’ll shoot you in the eye,” said the guy in front of me. We’ll call him Ralph, since in the middle of an attempted robbery, I am the sort of person who notices that the bad guy is wearing a Ralph Lauren polo shirt, and that it’s a ladies’ cut.
“I…I’m not!” said the poor cashier. Her batman comic was greasy around the corners, and there was even a small ketchup stain stuck to the inner crease of her mouth. She edged towards the cash register, her hands shaking so hard that for a moment there I thought she might just pass out.
She fumbled with the buttons and slipped around, then there was this awful, sick crash as she managed to send the register skittering to the floor. Ralph started yelling some really nasty things then, and she actually started crying; she was so tripped out, and the whole thing was just getting on my nerves and making me really, really mad.
So I said, “Hey, can I just buy this first?”
And when Ralph turned around, I socked him in the nose.
It was so much cooler than it sounded. I know that you think that a 1.8 metre tall, scrawny teenager with platinum blonde hair punching a heavy-set, abnormally tall man would be kind of like rain on a window - it’d just slip off.
Yeah, well, it didn’t. I totally sent that guy flying!
“Do bwoke my fubbing nods!” Ralph yelled at me, and he was bleeding everywhere, all down his shirt and all over his face and I don’t know, I just kind of mentally dusted off my hands and put my hands on my hips and it was all very, very Buffy.
Or it was, until Ralph punched me in the chest. No, actually, why sugarcoat it? The little dipshit hit me right where I did my nipple piercing.
If you’re a girl, think of it as someone hitting your boobs. And if you’re a guy? Just compare it to being castrated, and we’re just about even.
I was kind of hunched over and hissing rather ferally when Yunho saw me for the first time in ten years. The first word he heard me say started with an F and had four letters. It was the second and third word he heard, too.
“I can’t believe you punched me in the chest, you - you jerk!” I sputtered, because honestly! What kind of asshole punches someone at where they did a piercing? That is so clearly not allowed.
Because I was hunched over and gasping in pain and clutching at my chest and everything else, I didn’t hear the door chime open when Yunho came in, and neither did Ralph, I guess.
Ralph reached up and grabbed my hair and wrenched me down so hard I nearly fell and my eyes got all watery because that really freaking hurt too. But because I am the helpless victim here, I am automatically allowed to fight dirty.
So I elbowed his already-broken nose, hard.
I am also vaguely proud of the fact that I, at least, did not cry first.
The cashier had taken Ralph’s gun in the struggle and was holding it vaguely, apparently too shell shocked to properly react. And she was robotically hammering down on the distress button, over and over again, her eyes glazed.
I took a deep breath and pulled myself upright, and while limping, picked up my ice cream, and faced the checkout counter.
Yunho had cut me.
I just kind of stared at the back of him, completely and utterly flabbergasted, and contemplated another cat fight.
“Are you going to ring this up?” Yunho asked the cashier impatiently. He had his hands in his pockets, was covered from head to toe in black, and had all the bored grace of a panther.
He was also a lot prettier, now that I had hormones.
The cashier stuttered at him, and Yunho sighed irritably, digging through his wallet and tossing a twenty thousand won note on the counter pointedly before turning to walk out.
“That will most probably cover your ice cream,” he said lowly as he passed me, and I spun.
I had not seen his face throughout this, only the back of his head. Something about his voice though, struck me as extremely familiar. But it wasn’t until I caught sight of him that I knew.
He later told me that my eyes got extremely big and my jaw went slack, but whether it was true fact or his idea of flirting-slash-exaggeration, I wasn’t too sure.
“You?” I asked, really loudly, and I didn’t realise that I had grabbed his arm until he tried to tug it free from my grasp. I didn’t let go. I think I might have held on tighter. “But you’re…”
I trailed off, snapping my jaw shut as I remembered the cameras that were most likely taping every single moment of this. His expression was guarded, dark eyes unreadable, and it suddenly came to me that he probably did not recognise me. Of course he wouldn’t. That was ten years ago - I didn’t even have the same hair colour as I had back then. (I dyed my hair platinum blonde when I hit sixteen.)
He started walking, and I was pulled along, out of the store and into the dark, dark night.
When I was getting into his car it suddenly shocked me into realizing what I was doing - and what he was.
My hand stalled over the seat belt, and whatever daze or lull he might have put me under was quickly shaken off. “Wait - wait, you can’t eat me!”
I know, I know, I make fabulous first impressions, don’t I?
Yunho went very still, but people were still stealing looks at us through the windshield, noses pressed to the gas station’s windows.
I started talking really quickly. “I mean, I… I know. That you’re a vampire. I’ve known for ten years.” I clammed up then, and he was staring at me like he didn’t know what to do with me exactly - if it’d be better to hide me in the gutter, and make me get out of the car.
“… That was you.” He sighed, and fell back into his seat with a groan, “perfect.”
He looked extremely tired, and I took my time looking at him. Pretty boy? Yes, indeed.
“I think I owe you,” I said then, and looked, and look, and made my decision. Maybe I was just bored. Maybe I was really, seriously, harbouring some secret, self-destructive tendencies. Another thing that’s big for vampires is the concept of debt, and it’s a concept that extends deep. If either of us recognised the contract, we were tied. I wanted to be tied.
I remembered him picking me up and carrying me, when I’d been small and scrawny, and I wondered if he could feel anything.
“Don’t,” Yunho said wearily, and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe it was impulse, but I reached out and touched his hand.
“It’s warm,” I said, with some surprise, because I thought it would have been solid and hard, like ice maybe. Like a corpse. That was another stereotype gone down the drain.
“Of course it is,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, the first display of any emotions I’d ever seen from him. “I’m not dead.”
“I thought that was kind of the point of being a vampire,” I remarked, snapping my seat belt into place. I checked my ice-cream, discovered it had melted, and then debated mentally on whether I should eat it, after which I promptly started drinking.
“Your heart still beats, how else are you going to move?” he said idly, and then seemed to realise that I was still there. Actually, I never had any intention of leaving.
I should explain, I guess. I’m not going to try and convince you that I loved him or anything, not yet. I wasn’t particularly obsessed with vampires - honestly? They just sounded like glorified cannibals to me. Yunho seemed to be drawing the same conclusion, because he was pointedly clicking the locks open.
“What are you doing?” Yunho asked. I thought he looked a little freaked. But then, he generally gets a little twitchy when he’s confused.
I waved an idle hand, like I didn’t really care. “Oh, go on. Drive. Pick up some hot girls.” I put my feet on the dashboard, but he knocked them down. I stared at him for a good thirty seconds, and then put them back up. Again, he knocked them down.
“Yeah, we’re going to have to talk about that,” I told him, and buried my face back into my carton of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. Yunho looked vaguely revolted.
“Get out of my car. And for goodness’ sake eat with a spoon."
Please, ladies and gentlemen, note the afterthought. This is what we refer to as “anal retentive”. It’d be kind of cute if it wasn’t absolutely annoying.
“Fine,” I closed the cover of the carton and turned to face him. “You want to know what this is about, then here it is. I don’t leave my debts unpaid. As of now, I officially owe you my life and about seven thousand won.”
Having remembered that last statement, I reached into my wallet, pulled out a couple of bills and held it out. He didn’t take it. I put it on the dashboard, and wondered why this felt like I was paying a hooker.
“Jaejoong,” he said, kind of warningly.
I didn’t notice at this time, but I hadn’t told him my name. I smiled brightly. “I’m sorry. I’m being obnoxious and irritating because you scare the shit out of me. Another side effect is awkward honesty, like I have just displayed.”
Yunho’s jaw tightened. “Why don’t you repay me by just leaving me alone?”
“Don’t you get tired of being alone?” I shot back, and then snapped my mouth shut with a vaguely horrified expression on my face, wondering how hard that hit.
Yunho never blinked.
To this day, I still wish I hadn’t said it.
“Shockingly, I prefer it to your company,” he said icily, and for a second, I had a flash of him snapping another man’s neck, easy as you please.
I didn’t say anything for a long while. “I’m sorry,” I said, because I honestly couldn’t think of anything else to say, and because it’s such an easy filler. “I… I really am.”
“Look,” Yunho bit out. “I’m hungry. And since you’re not really an option right now, scram.”
I felt just the tiniest bit hurt. “Why am I not an option?”
Yunho just stared at me. I continued, “Is it because my blood is like, super icky? Would it help if I ate bananas? I heard mosquitoes are more attracted to people who’ve eaten-“
“I’m not a bug,” Yunho said grumpily, and I shut up immediately, eyes wide.
“That came out wrong,” I mumbled to the ice cream carton, and the marshmallows inside were all laughing at my utterly pathetic attempt to win over a guy. Honestly, I usually do a better job than this!
I had a thought, “I bet you don’t even want me gone. I think that if you really did, you would have just like, thrown me out of the car by now or eaten me or something.”
“Forgive me for attempting diplomacy,” Yunho seethed, and I reflected that maybe he wasn’t very nice.
I got out of the car. “I’m not forgetting. I still owe you.”
He rolled up the windows and drove away without a word.
-----
I kind of thought that might have been the end of it. I mean, I tried. I shamelessly threw myself at him, really, went from insulting to sweet, to brazen and none of it, absolutely none of it worked. But I still thought about him. Maybe it was an idealization, but I kind of made him larger than life. Some part of child-worship still remembered him picking me up when I was frail and weak and completely helpless, and the total relief of being saved.
It sounds stupid.
It was.
-----
Yunho knocked on my door two months later. I was the only one at home, but that wasn’t really surprising. He was leaning hard against the doorframe, one hand clenched tight around his side. Blood was spilling in between his fingers and his teeth were grinding together. He looked worse for wear, and the sight of him hurt was… strange, to put it mildly. I couldn’t really believe it.
“How do you know where I live?” I blurted out, and Yunho looked a little like he wanted to leave.
“You’re the governor’s son, and it’s a big house,” he hissed between his teeth, and I noticed him eyeing the empty halls behind me. I blinked, and then I slowly stepped to the side, leaving the entrance open.
“Right. Um. Should I call an ambulance.”
“Don’t,” he said curtly, and I wasn’t really surprised. I showed him to the bathroom, and he didn’t wait for me to leave before pulling his shirt off. I sucked in my breath, terrified at the evil looking slice, which ran diagonally across his back from his shoulder blades to just below his ribcage.
“I need you to do something for me,” he said curtly. He was moving gingerly, hissing, afraid to aggravate the wound. “Sew me up.”
“But you’re a-” I took a numbed step forward, setting one hand on his shoulder and feeling the skin. “ I thought you couldn’t die.”
“I can’t move if I bleed too much,” he said by way of explanation, and was handing me a needle and thread. I stared at them, feeling suddenly sick.
“Jaejoong,” he called, insistently, and I glanced at all the blood on the floor, before taking the needle between my shaking fingers.
I hated needles.
I really hated needles.
Ironic, wasn’t it? A doctor-in-training who’s afraid of needles.
“I can’t…” I cut myself off, feeling my fingers shiver.
“Please,” Yunho said, and there was something almost like desperation when he looked at me. Maybe that was why I stood up straighter and stopped.
I took a very slow breath, and blew out all the fear.
When I was done, I set the needle aside on the counter and bit off the thread. I stared at the neat little stitches (oh, the perks of living with eight older sisters), before looking down at the bloody mess I’d become.
Yunho didn’t move; his head was still bowed. Hesitating for a brief moment, I touched his shoulder again, marring the perfect white skin with violent red fingerprints. “So, are we even?”
“You never owed me in the first place,” he said, and there was just a trace of self-hatred in his voice when he said that: “I never stopped him. I never did anything.”
“You saved my life,” I argued, angry at him for a second. “Don’t make it sound like nothing, because it’s not. It’s not.”
He didn’t say anything and I dug in my fingers, because I would not let this go. I would not let him go.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, and stood to leave. I watched him rise, slip past me, and caught sight of Bloody Mary in the mirror, smiling wanly at her reflection.
“You don’t have to be so alone,” I whispered, more to the mirror than to him, but he paused anyway, and when he turned I wanted to sing the sorrow.
When I stepped forward he stepped back, and hit the door. I moved in, closer still, but I couldn’t blink.
I wondered why he looked so scared.
I kissed him carefully, and felt his eyelashes brush against his face as he closed his eyes. It was very light, and very soft, and very fragile. When he put his hands on my waist I thought he was going to push me away.
He tasted a little like December, with a hint of spring and tainted by ashes.
“I’m not running,” I whispered onto his lips, “I promise.”
Sometimes, I wonder if I made the right choice. I knew what I was doing, declaring war on eternity, and stabbing my heart with Cupid’s sharpest arrows, but I was young then, and drunk off of the would-have-been’s and adoring the forbidden.
But more than any of that, I didn’t want for him to look so alone. That was all.
It might have been the wrong choice, but I would never take it back.
That was how we began.
-----
Well, that was a let down.
Not even halfway through the story and I’ve already snagged the hottie, right? And this is where the doldrums set in. This is where Cinderella kisses Prince Charming and the screen pans upwards for a sky shot, and because everyone’s satisfied, no one really wants to stick around for the divorce.
Of course they’d get a divorce. She’s like, what? Sixteen? I think you still need parental consent for getting married - Charming probably bought them all off. Filthy rich bastards.
Sometimes, you know, I’d sit around and stare at my algebra homework and just-imagine. Like the copper on my ring finger was a diamond, like I was older and-and Yunho would still look the same.
Yunho will always look the same.
I never really said anything, but I was always thinking about it. Every time I kissed him, touched him, caught him watching me, it kind of settled in. Because his heart might’ve been beating, but I don’t know if you can truly be alive if you’re absent of death.
I was going to have to choose.
I wasn’t in love with Yunho when I kissed him, that first time. I wasn’t even sure I liked him, honestly, and I know that sounds terrible, but it’s just a kiss. It’s intimate, I guess, but it’s not the same as asking someone to marry you, date you, adore you, whatever. You need to understand that, because I don’t want you to think that there are explosions and magic and flying elephants whenever two people lock lips-because that’s not really true, and the only instant connection I can imagine sounds pretty painful and involves super glue.
-----
I’m not totally sure how Yunho managed to survive for so long.
In all honesty, the guy’s kind of a social retard. I mean, sure, he’s pretty to look at, but he’s about as huggable as a cactus. If I weren’t a total freak of nature, he’d scare me shitless. And he did, for a while, until I made myself get used to him. He was a lot less creepy after we’d had some very awkward conversations. Probably because he really, really distanced himself after being a vampire. Try having no human contact for at least 20 years and you’ll see what I mean.
Yeah, as if the whole thing wasn’t screwy enough, not only did I have to deal with being the giddy lovesick teenager, fretting over whether kissing was enough to declare us as a couple, I had more pressing things on my mind. Instead of imagining our first date, I was trying to work out where we’d hide the bodies.
I’m kidding, of course.
But if I weren’t totally joking, I’d probably suggest a tank of piranhas; destruction of evidence, and all that. I bet I could even make the feds believe they were goldfish-it all depends on how low-cut the shirt is.
I didn’t see him for a couple of days after that. It wasn’t until I had the bright idea to go and get myself on the brink of serious trouble that he finally popped up.
“You could have just gotten a cell phone,” I complained, and trotted after him as he shouldered out of the dark corners. My utterly fantastic, come-hither-all-ye-vampires plan had been utterly foolproof. I wore too much eyeliner and took a short cut through an alley. Obviously, they flocked to me. Obviously, Yunho came running.
What a softie.
“You could invest in some common sense,” he returned, and I pouted. Talk about utterly unreasonable and unfair!
“So I was thinking,” I said breezily, still stalking away, “That maybe you could hang out with me. Sometimes. During more normal hours of the day.”
“I don’t go out in the sunlight.” Yunho said, with a pointedly quirked eyebrow, and I frowned at him.
“Okay. But, like, I could get you some SPF30, or an umbrella, or something.” I nagged, and wondered why this felt more like extortion than it did flirtation. Yunho was walking so quickly, he was like one of those granny-joggers.
“I mean, sunlight makes me disappear. When you’re just a shadow, you can’t last in the light.” He added the last bit like he was explaining, and I pursed my lips and started jogging. God, this guy was way too difficult. If I wasn’t so set on keeping him from being a sociopath, I would totally have just ditched the dork.
And he was a pretty good kisser. But that was really only a perk.
I stuck out my tongue and crossed my eyes. Yeah, I sure showed him.
-----
Needless to say, Yunho didn’t think it was very funny when I figured out where his lair was. Or should I say…the bat cave.
I know. I’m hilarious. He thought so too.
His primary tactic was to not answer the door. It worked for about half an hour, until I started singing and all the neighbors started complaining, and the woman across the street threatened to call the cops if the screaming didn’t stop, so Yunho managed to crack the door and tell me to go away.
“It’s dark outside and I’m in a shady neighborhood,” I told him, and he got all narrow-eyed and squinty.
“You managed to get here okay.” He pointed out, and I made my eyes all big and watery.
“Exactly! Now I’m even more statistically likely to be raped!”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he said through gritted teeth, and I strode past him. I started poking through his kitchen. I kind of expected there’d be big vats of blood in the freezer, but all I found were a couple of bottles of kimchi and some rice balls.
Talk about going vegetarian.
Weird.
He didn’t move from the front door, “Jaejoong, get out.”
“I just got here!” I complained, because I was pretty sure he didn’t actually want me to leave. He muttered, and shut the door. I internally celebrated. Hah-called it.
I felt-I don’t know. Sharp. Everything I said was too cheerful, every time I laughed, it came out too loud. It wasn’t that I was trying to seduce him, more that I wanted to prove a point. And he-intrigued me. What a corny thing to say. The problem with clichés is that they usually apply, much as we might resent it.
Which brings me to another off-topic rhetorical question; do you know how hard it is to write a romance? Because it is. It’s all been done before. Which just goes to show that in our hearts, we are all horny bastards. Except maybe the vampire standing behind me, who is apparently incapable of human emotion. If he doesn’t believe in love, or has some sort of hormonal explosion, I am so totally out of here.
Seriously, a hormonal explosion? What is with that?
I’m pretty sure it wasn’t going to happen though, considering what I was wearing and he still hadn’t pulled a move.
Clearly, we are a torrid love affair in the making. I should invest in a nurse’s outfit. My sisters did say I would look better than them in a dress; not that that’s exactly flattering.
When I turned around from busily and over-animatedly examining his fridge, Yunho was standing right behind me, inches away. On reflex, I stepped backwards, more startled than anything. His eyes tracked my progress, and I got the sinking shudder of a realized mistake.
He stepped nearer, put one hand on my neck. I couldn’t even blink, felt my heart rate accelerate. It was fight or flight and I was just stuck there, pulse like a jack-hammer and not sure of what anything was.
“You wouldn’t be able to stop me.” He said, just stating, fingers cool. I shivered as they wrapped around, and tried to find the answer in his face, but could only watch as the ink ran off the paper.
“I don’t know,” I said, dizzy, “Does it hurt a vampire if I kick them in the balls?”
He didn’t smile, “You don’t have a reason for doing this,” he insisted, “Just go home.”
I raised a hand of my own and let it wrap around his wrist, but didn’t pull him away, “See?” I smiled, “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Yunho let his hand fall back to his side and looked away, but I could tell he was unhappy.
Part 2