RE意識 (au contrant) | tvxq, au.
homin / pg13, 4340w. ao3
changmin goes to a costume party. the last thing he expects is to have his past become his present.
- this story is unbeta'd and consists of some intermediate level werewolf and vampire themes, along with tidbits of folklore from several other cultures/regions. general warning: violence, alcohol, and language. the rating for this story is likely to go up.
“you’re coming.”
changmin let his eyes drift from his book in a brief glance to his crotch. dark wash jeans, straightleg, and completely dry. a myriad of possible things to say flicker across his mind. “no,” he says flatly, settling, eyes back to his book. “no, i don’t think i am.”
“you’re so full of it,” changmin can practically hear the eye roll in his closest friend’s tone. he resists the urge to say why yes i am and instead allows for a self-indulgent smile as victoria goes on somewhere behind him, probably about his lack of social life and some other ‘fault in his personality’ that ‘refuses to make him want to participate in anything, ever.’
“listen,” victoria sighs as she stops tinkering with her outfit-if you can call it that, the black, thin slither of cloth is barely a dress-taking the book from his hands and draping herself dramatically over the back of his perch, completely ignoring his wide eyed glare. she’s been trying to coerce him for weeks, she’s nothing if not persistent. “you haven’t left your apartment for anything but class and food since minho and kyuhyun moved away-two years ago. we haven’t gone out together in months. it’s just one party, changmin. i swear it won’t kill you.”
changmin ignores the rant for the guilt trip that it isn’t, no longer bothered by his friend’s casual mentions of the two of three people he possibly misses more than his own father. victoria is a person of saying the first crumple of words that string themselves together in her head, and he’d come to terms with that a long time ago, no matter that what she said sometimes struck chords.
“i don’t do halloween,” changmin says simply, running his tongue over his canines absently and reaching for his book. he resists looking into victoria’s eyes and laying out a construct of concise no’s. “really. and you know how i feel about the sun.”
“halloween is about being anyone you want, changmin, and it’s evening!”
“and dressing up,”
“you don’t have to have a costume.”
“and insane crowds of people.”
“changmin.” victoria is standing in front of him with a hand on her hip now, a passing flicker of hurt on her face, mouth notching in the way he has also long come to recognize and learned to be wary of. changmin leans back, folding his arms as he gives a resolved grunt.
“excellent,” victoria beams, just shy his own height in her heels as she pulls him up from the couch. “the party starts in an hour, hurry up and get dressed.”
changmin raises a brow, “i am dressed,” rolls his eyes when victoria gives a pointed glare at his old hoodie. he marches to his room. “fine, but i’m keeping the jeans.”
he already knows he doesn’t exactly have college halloween party worthy things to wear but he stares into his closet anyway, half heartedly glancing at the clothes he has in mild wonder-who can he be, if he can be anyone? the question had been posturing him, wracking around his skull from the moment victoria had demanded he go to a halloween party. victoria had told him that he could be anyone he wanted, anything, regardless how bizarre or alluring or terrifying. that end bit had amused him when she’d said it, because little did she know. only one fourth vampire and he still managed to-accidentally-be all of those things.
the thing about being someone else is that he likes being himself. pretending to be someone or something else was… disagreeable, after years of trudging through identity issues concerning himself and his royal family bloodline, his misconstrued role as the apparent spitting image and reincarnation of his great great great great great great grandmother and his place in the vampire society, along with its throne. changmin is mostly human, thanks to his mother being a halfling and his father not being supernatural at all, but vampire blood is known to be hard to dilute. the vaugely irritating tingling sensation when he steps into sunlight, lengthy canines, heightened senses, abilities, and the murky blue eyes that look back at him in the mirror was hard proof of that. yet, victoria had told him that the point was to be something else when, really, halloween was the more than perfect time to truly be himself.
but, naturally, it also seemed like an excuse for his friend to don as little clothing as possible. victoria had brought entire bags to changmin’s apartment, modeled costume after costume until deciding on ears and a slip of a cat suit that made even changmin hum in appreciation. and from victoria’s declaration, skimpiness was quite the norm for everyone.
the norm was definitely not for changmin, it never had been no matter how much he strived-strives-for it. at (still) twenty four he’d moved from his family’s countryside estate to travel the world, then back to his home’s city to carry on and continue his schooling-probably the only normal constant he can count. it was here, four years ago at college in which he’d met victoria, along with kyuhyun and minho, as they were. changmin is smart, but his aforementioned identity and societal issues hadn’t exactly allowed him to breeze through highschool back then. after pushing through hell and high waters to even get into college without… otherworldly persuasion, he hadn’t really participated in the usual, expected college antics: concert hopping, partying, dating, drugs. and definitely not damn halloween. he enjoys a good glass of wine every now and then, but he’d done enough of those other things in the years before he left home.
besides, it hadn’t even occurred to him that people his age dressed up anymore. not that he was still aging. not really, anyway.
“if i can be anyone,” changmin muses to himself, hand braced on the door of his closet as he peers in. “i suppose i’d like to be my opposite, but you won’t catch me alive dressed like a werewolf.”
changmin snatches the nearest shirt off of its hanger, a white button up with billowing sleeves, a gift from victoria on his birthday earlier in the year. he ditches his hoodie and the t-shirt underneath, tosses them into the hamper in the corner of his closet and then slips into the white shirt, buttons it up and grabs for the lace up boots-also an attempt from victoria to further spice up his wardrobe-and fitting into them.
victoria makes a delighted sound when she sees him, flocks over coos. “i told you those boots would be handy some day!” she says, running a hair through his hair, to his trepidation. “you look-”
“ridiculous, probably,”
“hot.” she ushers him into the bathroom to look in the mirror. her heels click on the tiles. “like in a vampire kind of way, don’t you think?”
ironically. wry amusement curdles up changmin’s chest, unbidden as he blinks slowly at her through the mirror-another tell tale of his humanity, he can see himself-but victoria ignores him in favor for reaching around and popping the top three buttons on his shirt. “there,” she announces happily, smoothing her hands down his arms. “you don’t even need contacts,” she jokes. “perfect.”
changmin makes a face. “not sure about the buttons, vic. remember last time? people will be trying to hit on me-”
“that’s the point,” victoria laughs. “that way you’ll have something to do!”
“what? what about you, the one who’s demanding me to tag along?” changmin tucks his phone into his back pocket and they head through his apartment, switching lights off as they go. “why can’t you just pretend to be my date.”
“no,” victoria says firmly. “i fully intend to be going home with some stranger tonight. after all, it’s not something i’d usually do, so it fits.”
changmin is pretty sure that’s not the point of halloween, but he doesn’t bother mentioning that as they take the elevator down. victoria’s car is a glued together pile of junk, but it runs, and she’s the only one between them with a license, much less a car. changmin gets in, reaching down to adjust the laces on his shoes.
“still,” victoria says, starting the car and pulling out of the garage park. “i wish you dressed a little more-”
“ridiculous?”
“extravagant.” victoria deadpanned. “seriously, you have the body for it.”
“this is an exception,” changmin intones with a fake bout of narcissism. “you said i can be anything i want. i’m just me with the clothes you bought.”
“so, what, you’re an actual vampire?”
changmin pauses in a moment of contemplation, then neither confirms nor denies, just gives a slow roll of his shoulder in a half shrug and repeats himself. “you know how i feel about the sun.”
“full of it,” victoria chuckles, the beginning of a genuine joyful smile forming for the first time changmin has seen her today. the gauntlet thrown out to cast, they start bickering in earnest, mercilessly picking at each other.
when they pull up to the apartment building the party’s being hosted at, changmin looks up in only intermediate awe. he was used to luxury before he left for the city on his own, but this was something else, a different genre of luxury he issn’t familiar with; his family comes from old money. this apartment building screams new at him. the building is for the modern and rich, the sleek, glass and steel design nothing at all like the vintage woods and bricks he was accustomed to back home, not to even mention his own apartment.
“the party is here? have we driven by before?”
“nah,” victoria says. “but hyunwoo’s throwing it. his parents got him a place here when he turned eighteen or something.”
“must be nice to be rich,” changmin mutters with a private smile.
“hyunwoo’s a complete asshole but he’s got a live dj and an open bar, so, y’know. everyone off campus is showing up.”
“still. i feel like i know this building.”
the elevator ride up takes what seems like forever. when they get out, they’re surprised that there’s only one door on the entire floor. music thumps, almost shakes the door, and changmin can smell the faint, gritty scent of cigarettes and alcohol from where he stands. he winces for his sensitive ears and nose in advance.
“you ready?” victoria asks, clicking a heel.
changmin plasters on a smile, decides he’ll at least try to enjoy himself once he gets a drink in his hand. “ladies first,” he grins. no one answers when victoria knocks on the door, but it swings right open when she tries for the knob, revealing an enormous condo, one that could easily take up two floors. changmin’s awe notches up a little.
everywhere changmin looks there are people in costumes, talking, drinking. ghosts, maids, punks, ghouls, stereotypical vampires and ‘your skirt’s too short to be a’ disney princesses. roaring twenties gangsters lounge with plastic cups while another group covered in togas and ancient roman armor drink from more decorated cups.
“c’mon,” victoria shouts over the music. “let’s get a drink and mingle around.”
“i thought you were driving us home?” changmin protests, trying to keep up with her though the throbbing crowd.
“we’ll be here for hours! one drink won’t cause any harm by then.” victoria gives changmin’s shoulder a gentle shove. “this is the first party you’ve graced your presence with all year! relax! meet people!”
changmin should have known that relax and meet people meant abandon ship. victoria pulls away and lets out a high pitched squeal the moment some other person calls her name, and she vanishes into the throng of people. changmin holds back a frustrated snarl and makes his way to the bar, takes a stool for himself and waits for the bartender to notice him. changmin’s almost sure that the bartender is a wild cat of some sort, but the real colors and patterns of his costume are lost in the flashing lights emitting from above, even for his eyes.
“well? what’ll it be?” the bartender asks impatiently.
“surprise me,” changmin says over the music. the guy nods, turns and pulls bottles changmin doesn’t care to squint at-he probably could’ve smelled the contents from a mile away with how strong it was.
“never seen you here before,” a voice says from next to him. “nice costume, by the way. your fangs are wicked!”
changmin turns his head to see a shorter, stocky guy in a pin stripped suit and aviators peering at him. changmin’s first thought is prick, because who wears shades inside, but it’s halloween, so:
“i’ve never been here before,” he admits. “thanks.”
“so you’re what,” the guys says, “a vampire right?”
changmin doesn’t answer right away, thinks about the day his aging stopped and then says, “an… old one, yeah. sure.”
“contacts and everything! i dig it,” a laugh, one that almost raises changmin’s hackles. he quickly tosses it up to the slur in the other man’s voice, mumbles another thanks.
“and you are?”
“secret agent.”
changmin wonders if he should reward points for originality or deduct some for lack of trying. not that he could really say much when his own pseudo costume was nothing but his actual clothes.
“so what’s your major?”
“classic literature,”
“a literature major, huh?”
“yeah. you?”
changmin regrets letting the returned question fall from his mouth when he realizes it’s a trap. the guy had only asked so he could puff his chest out, talk about his own major, and then delve into an overly lengthy explanation with an aura that oozes self importance. changmin extracts more knowledge than he cares to have about him; major, intended career, his creepy obsession with rookie girl groups and, naturally, the overwhelming amount of self love.
he hasn’t really touched his drink, which in hindsight would have made listening to some random go on about themselves a million times easier. after nearly sixteen minutes and forty eight seconds-changmin counted-he tries to figure out how to remove himself, almost considers a drastic measure or two. he deems himself already sick from the genuine narcissism only made worse by how much the guy imbibes.
changmin’s just about to flee, about to nod the guy off and probably never look back when the dance floor shifts and a group of people push into the other man, who stumbles forward in a flail to catch himself, shouting something changmin doesn’t listen for or hear. but changmin’s sharp shout of indignation as the guy’s drink, something foul smelling and colorful, spills down the front of his white shirt, is definitely heard, even earns a few head turns.
“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” the flashing lights don’t help, but changmin’s positive the drink is purple.
holding in another affronted sound changmin excuses himself, not caring if the guy hears him. he looks around, spots stairs and makes his way up and around a string of other students in costumes, cursing under his breath as the smell of the alcohol spilled down his clothes wafts up to his nose relentlessly. he eyes one of the doors on the landing and hopes he’s got enough luck left for it to be a bathroom.
he opens the door, almost slams it shut behind before something catches his attention. it’s the scent first, sweat and musk, then the echoing sound of skin slapping, and changmin turns his head to see victoria’s face, mouth parted and a stranger between her legs, too busy to notice changmin staring at her in mortification.
changmin promptly turns on his heel and leaves, slams the door behind him before striding for another. “thank fuck,” he sighs when it’s a bathroom. with just a glance in the fluorescent lighting he can tell that the purple stain will never come out. it runs from his collar to the fashionably frayed end in a slash, some of it sticky on his chest. a pulse of hot, sudden anger shoots down his body, and he feels his canines lengthen in reaction. changmin braces himself against the sink, knuckles almost white as he tries not to let the feeling consume him so fully.
“that’s what i get for wearing white,” he tilts his head back and mutters to himself, aiming his tone for light and conversational instead of the growl that’s waiting in the back of his throat. looking back at the mirror, he flicks on the faucet and tries dabbing at the horrid splash of purple.
the door behind him opens, and he mutters that he’ll probably be just another moment when he catches the gaze of the secret agent guy in the mirror.
“hey there,” the guy slurs.
“be out in a minute,” changmin goes back to his shirt.
“unnecessary,” secret agent waves a hand, cajoling, tone coming out thick and too syrupy by more than half. it makes changmin’s hackles raise again, his body still with an eerie absoluteness. despite the fact that more than half a century has passed by, he recognizes the tone for what it is, remembers his terrified seventeen year old self when he first heard it.
“never done it in the bathroom before.”
“done what,” changmin says slowly, quietly, hands still over his shirt and eyes zeroed in on the mirror.
“aw, you know, pretty boy. it’ll be fun, yeah?” he tells changmin, stepping closer.
“that’s really not going to happen.” changmin tells him, sliding away toward the far wall and in the direction of the door. he doesn’t enjoy altercations. especially these. gods know he’s had enough of these to last his life span.
“don’t play hard to get,” secret agent, voice suddenly sounding clearer. he reaches out towards changmin’s hands. “you’ve been flirting around with me all night.”
changmin slips out of the door with precision. his thoughts hardly even roam to victoria as he breezes down the stairs and steps into the crowd, making for the door. curses are shouted him as he weaves through without remorse, not caring at how rough his movements are becoming. he struggles to reach the door as the room suddenly feels too small, cigarette smoke hanging in the air with the musky stench of sweat. he breathes through his mouth, coughs on even that, breath hitching in wet gasps that do nothing to help him with a sudden bout of dizziness before he snaps his mouth shut and holds his breath. he flings the door shut harder than he should when he finally reaches it.
“bus,” he mutters to himself, sure that victoria will understand when she gets mad at him about leaving later. he strides towards the elevator and tries to ignore the smell of himself, more than happy to just be taking the lift down alone. the doors are halfway closed when the condo door swings open and secret agent rushes to slide inside. the guy gives a grin changmin wants to punch off and presses the button for closing the elevator doors.
“always wanted to fuck in an elevator, too.” secret agent proclaims, swooping forward. changmin’s eyes narrow as he steps out of the way with a grace secret agent can’t see, and the guy bangs his head against the steel wall, laughs.
“i’m serious, stop playing around.” he laughs more, turning. changmin lets his lip curl over his teeth, feels his fists curl.
“i do not want to have sex with you.” he says plainly, almost low.
“come now, you’ve been giving me the eyes since we met.”
“did i stutter?”
“tough boy, pretty boy, i like it,” the guy launches for changmin, mouth poised for a kiss that he misses entirely, leaving a gross trail of sordid saliva when changmin ducks under they guy’s arms. “hey now-”
changmin filters his fingers through the guy’s hair, tugs hard and slams down. hid face meets the elevator wall rail with a definitive crunch, and changmin watches him crumple to the floor, howl in pain as blood splatters from his nose
“you fucker!” he whirls, one hand cupping his face and the other swinging out wildly. changmin catches the guy’s hand in it’s momentum, punches it flat agaomst the elevator wall, not caring to hear the pained cries.
“when someone says no, it means no.” he snarls, done with the entire ordeal as the elevator doors finally ding open. he backs away, eyes on the secret agent until he’s a decent stride away from him.
“y’fucking fuck-” the guy’s shout is stopped short as the elevator doors close. changmin takes a deep breath of air like he’s been underwater for a year, doesn’t relax; someone’s behind him.
he catches a glimpse of suit and bewildered brown eyes as he turns, makes his way towards the exit.
“might want to take the stairs.” he offers grimly.
a scent tickles his nose when he passes by, almost familiar in the way it curls upwards in a soothing spice, nearly memory inducing. changmin doesn’t stop dwell on it. he doesn’t quite care. he just wants to go home.
the sense of freedom washes over changmin in a cool wave when he steps into the autumn air. he notes the lack of people in the streets and curses under his breath. “it’s too late for a bus.” he groans, agitated.
his anger flares and dies with the adrenaline rush of not just setting that guy straight, but from holding back. he gives himself a mental pat on the shoulder because only part human he may be, but strong is the vampiric blood in him. he thinks of the guy’s broken nose and probably sprained hand and scoffs. that asshole is lucky he isn’t hungry. if anything, he was gentle.
with a sinking feeling and the purple stain of alcohol drying sticky to his bare chest underneath, he reaches into his back pocket for his phone.
of course it’s gone.
“fucks sake,” changmin allows himself another bout of irritation as he raises his eyes to the murky black city sky. “is this punishment?” he growls at it. “really?”
“would you like a ride?” a voice asks from behind him. changmin tenses; he’s had enough of voices sneaking up on him for one night. or two. or forever.
oh. that scent again.
sighing on the inside, changmin turns slowly to look at the owner of the voice, recognizes the suit from the elevator hall and forces himself not to cringe before looking the man in the face.
familiarity slams through him as he takes in the dark brown eyes and black hair, that mouth. it hits him hard in the lungs and down his spine. it tugs at his memory, something waiting to come to the tip of his tongue and be plucked right off. he can’t place it.
“listen,” he starts, trying not to let wonder color his tone, “i just got assaulted in an elevator, so don’t take it personally if i tell you to piss off. testing my patience while riding around with a stranger is probably not the finest idea at the time.” changmin tells him, readying himself for a long walk home.
“it would be more difficult to suck a squealing newborn dry,” the man remarks in a flat tone.
“probably,” changmin says it without thinking. he takes half a step before the words run through his head and he’s tensing up again. “what?”
the man says nothing, just stares back, and for a second changmin wonders if he produced the words in his own mind with some stupid leftover adrenaline fueled delirium.
“your eyes.” the man finally says.
changmin’s gaze flickers before narrowing. he slides one booted foot back, poised as a sliver of fear runs through him. “do you-?”
“it’s just an observation.” he gives a small smile. “that and your overly obvious choice in attire for the night, but no supernatural i’ve ever met has eyes quite like yours. jihye always did mention that you never bothered with concealment spells.”
changmin stops. his already barely there heartbeat faults to a brutal halt at that name, a name he hasn’t heard in decades, didn’t think he’d hear in more decades to come.
jihye.
the familiarity suddenly makes more sense than anything. changmin’s memories spill like a floodgate, and he lets out an almost shuddery breath.
“yunho.”
“in the flesh,” he replies jokingly.
“still think everything is funny, i see,” changmin snaps, tension leaving his body anyway, yet still too frustrated to care about insulting someone who just offered to help him.
“you still have an easy temper. and you reek. are you drunk?”
“like hell,” changmin resists baring his teeth. “that prick in the elevator spilled his drink all over me before deciding that i was easy.”
“there’s blood on you,” he says to changmin, who huffs.
“so? not like you were ever bothered by it before.”
changmin stays half poised as yunho lets out a minute hum before taking his gaze up changmin’s form and nodding. “come with me,” he says, commands, leaving no room for argument and raising changmin’s hackles for the second time.
changmin looks down the street at the empty bus stop and then to yunho’s retreating back. there’s nothing more he wants to do than go home and lock himself inside, but this-this surprise, this… whatever one calls it-changmin wouldn’t let this slip through his hands for the very world.
not if it means what he thinks-
he tells himself not to expect anything and not be wary, not to think too heavily on the events of their shared past. after all, if yunho was going to kill him, he would have done it already, and changmin would have been none the wiser. but, changmin can’t imagine yunho trying to kill him after offering him a ride.
deeming the night completely unable to possibly get any stranger, changmin does as he is told.
he follows.
.[ → 02 ]
.comments are ♥
changmin goes to a costume party. the last thing he expects is to have his past become his present.
- this story is unbeta'd and consists of some intermediate level werewolf and vampire themes, along with tidbits of folklore from several other cultures/regions. general warning: violence, alcohol, and language. the rating for this story is likely to go up.
“you’re coming.”
changmin let his eyes drift from his book in a brief glance to his crotch. dark wash jeans, straightleg, and completely dry. a myriad of possible things to say flicker across his mind. “no,” he says flatly, settling, eyes back to his book. “no, i don’t think i am.”
“you’re so full of it,” changmin can practically hear the eye roll in his closest friend’s tone. he resists the urge to say why yes i am and instead allows for a self-indulgent smile as victoria goes on somewhere behind him, probably about his lack of social life and some other ‘fault in his personality’ that ‘refuses to make him want to participate in anything, ever.’
“listen,” victoria sighs as she stops tinkering with her outfit-if you can call it that, the black, thin slither of cloth is barely a dress-taking the book from his hands and draping herself dramatically over the back of his perch, completely ignoring his wide eyed glare. she’s been trying to coerce him for weeks, she’s nothing if not persistent. “you haven’t left your apartment for anything but class and food since minho and kyuhyun moved away-two years ago. we haven’t gone out together in months. it’s just one party, changmin. i swear it won’t kill you.”
changmin ignores the rant for the guilt trip that it isn’t, no longer bothered by his friend’s casual mentions of the two of three people he possibly misses more than his own father. victoria is a person of saying the first crumple of words that string themselves together in her head, and he’d come to terms with that a long time ago, no matter that what she said sometimes struck chords.
“i don’t do halloween,” changmin says simply, running his tongue over his canines absently and reaching for his book. he resists looking into victoria’s eyes and laying out a construct of concise no’s. “really. and you know how i feel about the sun.”
“halloween is about being anyone you want, changmin, and it’s evening!”
“and dressing up,”
“you don’t have to have a costume.”
“and insane crowds of people.”
“changmin.” victoria is standing in front of him with a hand on her hip now, a passing flicker of hurt on her face, mouth notching in the way he has also long come to recognize and learned to be wary of. changmin leans back, folding his arms as he gives a resolved grunt.
“excellent,” victoria beams, just shy his own height in her heels as she pulls him up from the couch. “the party starts in an hour, hurry up and get dressed.”
changmin raises a brow, “i am dressed,” rolls his eyes when victoria gives a pointed glare at his old hoodie. he marches to his room. “fine, but i’m keeping the jeans.”
he already knows he doesn’t exactly have college halloween party worthy things to wear but he stares into his closet anyway, half heartedly glancing at the clothes he has in mild wonder-who can he be, if he can be anyone? the question had been posturing him, wracking around his skull from the moment victoria had demanded he go to a halloween party. victoria had told him that he could be anyone he wanted, anything, regardless how bizarre or alluring or terrifying. that end bit had amused him when she’d said it, because little did she know. only one fourth vampire and he still managed to-accidentally-be all of those things.
the thing about being someone else is that he likes being himself. pretending to be someone or something else was… disagreeable, after years of trudging through identity issues concerning himself and his royal family bloodline, his misconstrued role as the apparent spitting image and reincarnation of his great great great great great great grandmother and his place in the vampire society, along with its throne. changmin is mostly human, thanks to his mother being a halfling and his father not being supernatural at all, but vampire blood is known to be hard to dilute. the vaugely irritating tingling sensation when he steps into sunlight, lengthy canines, heightened senses, abilities, and the murky blue eyes that look back at him in the mirror was hard proof of that. yet, victoria had told him that the point was to be something else when, really, halloween was the more than perfect time to truly be himself.
but, naturally, it also seemed like an excuse for his friend to don as little clothing as possible. victoria had brought entire bags to changmin’s apartment, modeled costume after costume until deciding on ears and a slip of a cat suit that made even changmin hum in appreciation. and from victoria’s declaration, skimpiness was quite the norm for everyone.
the norm was definitely not for changmin, it never had been no matter how much he strived-strives-for it. at (still) twenty four he’d moved from his family’s countryside estate to travel the world, then back to his home’s city to carry on and continue his schooling-probably the only normal constant he can count. it was here, four years ago at college in which he’d met victoria, along with kyuhyun and minho, as they were. changmin is smart, but his aforementioned identity and societal issues hadn’t exactly allowed him to breeze through highschool back then. after pushing through hell and high waters to even get into college without… otherworldly persuasion, he hadn’t really participated in the usual, expected college antics: concert hopping, partying, dating, drugs. and definitely not damn halloween. he enjoys a good glass of wine every now and then, but he’d done enough of those other things in the years before he left home.
besides, it hadn’t even occurred to him that people his age dressed up anymore. not that he was still aging. not really, anyway.
“if i can be anyone,” changmin muses to himself, hand braced on the door of his closet as he peers in. “i suppose i’d like to be my opposite, but you won’t catch me alive dressed like a werewolf.”
changmin snatches the nearest shirt off of its hanger, a white button up with billowing sleeves, a gift from victoria on his birthday earlier in the year. he ditches his hoodie and the t-shirt underneath, tosses them into the hamper in the corner of his closet and then slips into the white shirt, buttons it up and grabs for the lace up boots-also an attempt from victoria to further spice up his wardrobe-and fitting into them.
victoria makes a delighted sound when she sees him, flocks over coos. “i told you those boots would be handy some day!” she says, running a hair through his hair, to his trepidation. “you look-”
“ridiculous, probably,”
“hot.” she ushers him into the bathroom to look in the mirror. her heels click on the tiles. “like in a vampire kind of way, don’t you think?”
ironically. wry amusement curdles up changmin’s chest, unbidden as he blinks slowly at her through the mirror-another tell tale of his humanity, he can see himself-but victoria ignores him in favor for reaching around and popping the top three buttons on his shirt. “there,” she announces happily, smoothing her hands down his arms. “you don’t even need contacts,” she jokes. “perfect.”
changmin makes a face. “not sure about the buttons, vic. remember last time? people will be trying to hit on me-”
“that’s the point,” victoria laughs. “that way you’ll have something to do!”
“what? what about you, the one who’s demanding me to tag along?” changmin tucks his phone into his back pocket and they head through his apartment, switching lights off as they go. “why can’t you just pretend to be my date.”
“no,” victoria says firmly. “i fully intend to be going home with some stranger tonight. after all, it’s not something i’d usually do, so it fits.”
changmin is pretty sure that’s not the point of halloween, but he doesn’t bother mentioning that as they take the elevator down. victoria’s car is a glued together pile of junk, but it runs, and she’s the only one between them with a license, much less a car. changmin gets in, reaching down to adjust the laces on his shoes.
“still,” victoria says, starting the car and pulling out of the garage park. “i wish you dressed a little more-”
“ridiculous?”
“extravagant.” victoria deadpanned. “seriously, you have the body for it.”
“this is an exception,” changmin intones with a fake bout of narcissism. “you said i can be anything i want. i’m just me with the clothes you bought.”
“so, what, you’re an actual vampire?”
changmin pauses in a moment of contemplation, then neither confirms nor denies, just gives a slow roll of his shoulder in a half shrug and repeats himself. “you know how i feel about the sun.”
“full of it,” victoria chuckles, the beginning of a genuine joyful smile forming for the first time changmin has seen her today. the gauntlet thrown out to cast, they start bickering in earnest, mercilessly picking at each other.
when they pull up to the apartment building the party’s being hosted at, changmin looks up in only intermediate awe. he was used to luxury before he left for the city on his own, but this was something else, a different genre of luxury he issn’t familiar with; his family comes from old money. this apartment building screams new at him. the building is for the modern and rich, the sleek, glass and steel design nothing at all like the vintage woods and bricks he was accustomed to back home, not to even mention his own apartment.
“the party is here? have we driven by before?”
“nah,” victoria says. “but hyunwoo’s throwing it. his parents got him a place here when he turned eighteen or something.”
“must be nice to be rich,” changmin mutters with a private smile.
“hyunwoo’s a complete asshole but he’s got a live dj and an open bar, so, y’know. everyone off campus is showing up.”
“still. i feel like i know this building.”
the elevator ride up takes what seems like forever. when they get out, they’re surprised that there’s only one door on the entire floor. music thumps, almost shakes the door, and changmin can smell the faint, gritty scent of cigarettes and alcohol from where he stands. he winces for his sensitive ears and nose in advance.
“you ready?” victoria asks, clicking a heel.
changmin plasters on a smile, decides he’ll at least try to enjoy himself once he gets a drink in his hand. “ladies first,” he grins. no one answers when victoria knocks on the door, but it swings right open when she tries for the knob, revealing an enormous condo, one that could easily take up two floors. changmin’s awe notches up a little.
everywhere changmin looks there are people in costumes, talking, drinking. ghosts, maids, punks, ghouls, stereotypical vampires and ‘your skirt’s too short to be a’ disney princesses. roaring twenties gangsters lounge with plastic cups while another group covered in togas and ancient roman armor drink from more decorated cups.
“c’mon,” victoria shouts over the music. “let’s get a drink and mingle around.”
“i thought you were driving us home?” changmin protests, trying to keep up with her though the throbbing crowd.
“we’ll be here for hours! one drink won’t cause any harm by then.” victoria gives changmin’s shoulder a gentle shove. “this is the first party you’ve graced your presence with all year! relax! meet people!”
changmin should have known that relax and meet people meant abandon ship. victoria pulls away and lets out a high pitched squeal the moment some other person calls her name, and she vanishes into the throng of people. changmin holds back a frustrated snarl and makes his way to the bar, takes a stool for himself and waits for the bartender to notice him. changmin’s almost sure that the bartender is a wild cat of some sort, but the real colors and patterns of his costume are lost in the flashing lights emitting from above, even for his eyes.
“well? what’ll it be?” the bartender asks impatiently.
“surprise me,” changmin says over the music. the guy nods, turns and pulls bottles changmin doesn’t care to squint at-he probably could’ve smelled the contents from a mile away with how strong it was.
“never seen you here before,” a voice says from next to him. “nice costume, by the way. your fangs are wicked!”
changmin turns his head to see a shorter, stocky guy in a pin stripped suit and aviators peering at him. changmin’s first thought is prick, because who wears shades inside, but it’s halloween, so:
“i’ve never been here before,” he admits. “thanks.”
“so you’re what,” the guys says, “a vampire right?”
changmin doesn’t answer right away, thinks about the day his aging stopped and then says, “an… old one, yeah. sure.”
“contacts and everything! i dig it,” a laugh, one that almost raises changmin’s hackles. he quickly tosses it up to the slur in the other man’s voice, mumbles another thanks.
“and you are?”
“secret agent.”
changmin wonders if he should reward points for originality or deduct some for lack of trying. not that he could really say much when his own pseudo costume was nothing but his actual clothes.
“so what’s your major?”
“classic literature,”
“a literature major, huh?”
“yeah. you?”
changmin regrets letting the returned question fall from his mouth when he realizes it’s a trap. the guy had only asked so he could puff his chest out, talk about his own major, and then delve into an overly lengthy explanation with an aura that oozes self importance. changmin extracts more knowledge than he cares to have about him; major, intended career, his creepy obsession with rookie girl groups and, naturally, the overwhelming amount of self love.
he hasn’t really touched his drink, which in hindsight would have made listening to some random go on about themselves a million times easier. after nearly sixteen minutes and forty eight seconds-changmin counted-he tries to figure out how to remove himself, almost considers a drastic measure or two. he deems himself already sick from the genuine narcissism only made worse by how much the guy imbibes.
changmin’s just about to flee, about to nod the guy off and probably never look back when the dance floor shifts and a group of people push into the other man, who stumbles forward in a flail to catch himself, shouting something changmin doesn’t listen for or hear. but changmin’s sharp shout of indignation as the guy’s drink, something foul smelling and colorful, spills down the front of his white shirt, is definitely heard, even earns a few head turns.
“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” the flashing lights don’t help, but changmin’s positive the drink is purple.
holding in another affronted sound changmin excuses himself, not caring if the guy hears him. he looks around, spots stairs and makes his way up and around a string of other students in costumes, cursing under his breath as the smell of the alcohol spilled down his clothes wafts up to his nose relentlessly. he eyes one of the doors on the landing and hopes he’s got enough luck left for it to be a bathroom.
he opens the door, almost slams it shut behind before something catches his attention. it’s the scent first, sweat and musk, then the echoing sound of skin slapping, and changmin turns his head to see victoria’s face, mouth parted and a stranger between her legs, too busy to notice changmin staring at her in mortification.
changmin promptly turns on his heel and leaves, slams the door behind him before striding for another. “thank fuck,” he sighs when it’s a bathroom. with just a glance in the fluorescent lighting he can tell that the purple stain will never come out. it runs from his collar to the fashionably frayed end in a slash, some of it sticky on his chest. a pulse of hot, sudden anger shoots down his body, and he feels his canines lengthen in reaction. changmin braces himself against the sink, knuckles almost white as he tries not to let the feeling consume him so fully.
“that’s what i get for wearing white,” he tilts his head back and mutters to himself, aiming his tone for light and conversational instead of the growl that’s waiting in the back of his throat. looking back at the mirror, he flicks on the faucet and tries dabbing at the horrid splash of purple.
the door behind him opens, and he mutters that he’ll probably be just another moment when he catches the gaze of the secret agent guy in the mirror.
“hey there,” the guy slurs.
“be out in a minute,” changmin goes back to his shirt.
“unnecessary,” secret agent waves a hand, cajoling, tone coming out thick and too syrupy by more than half. it makes changmin’s hackles raise again, his body still with an eerie absoluteness. despite the fact that more than half a century has passed by, he recognizes the tone for what it is, remembers his terrified seventeen year old self when he first heard it.
“never done it in the bathroom before.”
“done what,” changmin says slowly, quietly, hands still over his shirt and eyes zeroed in on the mirror.
“aw, you know, pretty boy. it’ll be fun, yeah?” he tells changmin, stepping closer.
“that’s really not going to happen.” changmin tells him, sliding away toward the far wall and in the direction of the door. he doesn’t enjoy altercations. especially these. gods know he’s had enough of these to last his life span.
“don’t play hard to get,” secret agent, voice suddenly sounding clearer. he reaches out towards changmin’s hands. “you’ve been flirting around with me all night.”
changmin slips out of the door with precision. his thoughts hardly even roam to victoria as he breezes down the stairs and steps into the crowd, making for the door. curses are shouted him as he weaves through without remorse, not caring at how rough his movements are becoming. he struggles to reach the door as the room suddenly feels too small, cigarette smoke hanging in the air with the musky stench of sweat. he breathes through his mouth, coughs on even that, breath hitching in wet gasps that do nothing to help him with a sudden bout of dizziness before he snaps his mouth shut and holds his breath. he flings the door shut harder than he should when he finally reaches it.
“bus,” he mutters to himself, sure that victoria will understand when she gets mad at him about leaving later. he strides towards the elevator and tries to ignore the smell of himself, more than happy to just be taking the lift down alone. the doors are halfway closed when the condo door swings open and secret agent rushes to slide inside. the guy gives a grin changmin wants to punch off and presses the button for closing the elevator doors.
“always wanted to fuck in an elevator, too.” secret agent proclaims, swooping forward. changmin’s eyes narrow as he steps out of the way with a grace secret agent can’t see, and the guy bangs his head against the steel wall, laughs.
“i’m serious, stop playing around.” he laughs more, turning. changmin lets his lip curl over his teeth, feels his fists curl.
“i do not want to have sex with you.” he says plainly, almost low.
“come now, you’ve been giving me the eyes since we met.”
“did i stutter?”
“tough boy, pretty boy, i like it,” the guy launches for changmin, mouth poised for a kiss that he misses entirely, leaving a gross trail of sordid saliva when changmin ducks under they guy’s arms. “hey now-”
changmin filters his fingers through the guy’s hair, tugs hard and slams down. hid face meets the elevator wall rail with a definitive crunch, and changmin watches him crumple to the floor, howl in pain as blood splatters from his nose
“you fucker!” he whirls, one hand cupping his face and the other swinging out wildly. changmin catches the guy’s hand in it’s momentum, punches it flat agaomst the elevator wall, not caring to hear the pained cries.
“when someone says no, it means no.” he snarls, done with the entire ordeal as the elevator doors finally ding open. he backs away, eyes on the secret agent until he’s a decent stride away from him.
“y’fucking fuck-” the guy’s shout is stopped short as the elevator doors close. changmin takes a deep breath of air like he’s been underwater for a year, doesn’t relax; someone’s behind him.
he catches a glimpse of suit and bewildered brown eyes as he turns, makes his way towards the exit.
“might want to take the stairs.” he offers grimly.
a scent tickles his nose when he passes by, almost familiar in the way it curls upwards in a soothing spice, nearly memory inducing. changmin doesn’t stop dwell on it. he doesn’t quite care. he just wants to go home.
the sense of freedom washes over changmin in a cool wave when he steps into the autumn air. he notes the lack of people in the streets and curses under his breath. “it’s too late for a bus.” he groans, agitated.
his anger flares and dies with the adrenaline rush of not just setting that guy straight, but from holding back. he gives himself a mental pat on the shoulder because only part human he may be, but strong is the vampiric blood in him. he thinks of the guy’s broken nose and probably sprained hand and scoffs. that asshole is lucky he isn’t hungry. if anything, he was gentle.
with a sinking feeling and the purple stain of alcohol drying sticky to his bare chest underneath, he reaches into his back pocket for his phone.
of course it’s gone.
“fucks sake,” changmin allows himself another bout of irritation as he raises his eyes to the murky black city sky. “is this punishment?” he growls at it. “really?”
“would you like a ride?” a voice asks from behind him. changmin tenses; he’s had enough of voices sneaking up on him for one night. or two. or forever.
oh. that scent again.
sighing on the inside, changmin turns slowly to look at the owner of the voice, recognizes the suit from the elevator hall and forces himself not to cringe before looking the man in the face.
familiarity slams through him as he takes in the dark brown eyes and black hair, that mouth. it hits him hard in the lungs and down his spine. it tugs at his memory, something waiting to come to the tip of his tongue and be plucked right off. he can’t place it.
“listen,” he starts, trying not to let wonder color his tone, “i just got assaulted in an elevator, so don’t take it personally if i tell you to piss off. testing my patience while riding around with a stranger is probably not the finest idea at the time.” changmin tells him, readying himself for a long walk home.
“it would be more difficult to suck a squealing newborn dry,” the man remarks in a flat tone.
“probably,” changmin says it without thinking. he takes half a step before the words run through his head and he’s tensing up again. “what?”
the man says nothing, just stares back, and for a second changmin wonders if he produced the words in his own mind with some stupid leftover adrenaline fueled delirium.
“your eyes.” the man finally says.
changmin’s gaze flickers before narrowing. he slides one booted foot back, poised as a sliver of fear runs through him. “do you-?”
“it’s just an observation.” he gives a small smile. “that and your overly obvious choice in attire for the night, but no supernatural i’ve ever met has eyes quite like yours. jihye always did mention that you never bothered with concealment spells.”
changmin stops. his already barely there heartbeat faults to a brutal halt at that name, a name he hasn’t heard in decades, didn’t think he’d hear in more decades to come.
jihye.
the familiarity suddenly makes more sense than anything. changmin’s memories spill like a floodgate, and he lets out an almost shuddery breath.
“yunho.”
“in the flesh,” he replies jokingly.
“still think everything is funny, i see,” changmin snaps, tension leaving his body anyway, yet still too frustrated to care about insulting someone who just offered to help him.
“you still have an easy temper. and you reek. are you drunk?”
“like hell,” changmin resists baring his teeth. “that prick in the elevator spilled his drink all over me before deciding that i was easy.”
“there’s blood on you,” he says to changmin, who huffs.
“so? not like you were ever bothered by it before.”
changmin stays half poised as yunho lets out a minute hum before taking his gaze up changmin’s form and nodding. “come with me,” he says, commands, leaving no room for argument and raising changmin’s hackles for the second time.
changmin looks down the street at the empty bus stop and then to yunho’s retreating back. there’s nothing more he wants to do than go home and lock himself inside, but this-this surprise, this… whatever one calls it-changmin wouldn’t let this slip through his hands for the very world.
not if it means what he thinks-
he tells himself not to expect anything and not be wary, not to think too heavily on the events of their shared past. after all, if yunho was going to kill him, he would have done it already, and changmin would have been none the wiser. but, changmin can’t imagine yunho trying to kill him after offering him a ride.
deeming the night completely unable to possibly get any stranger, changmin does as he is told.
he follows.
.[ → 02 ]
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