Title

Bloodlust (1/6)

Length

6300+

Pairing(s)

Yunho/Changmin

Genre

Romance, Supernatural

Warning(s)

Not for now lol. Unless vampirism is something you need a warning against.

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Yunho settles himself on a barstool, watching the writhing crowd on the dance floor. He shakes his head and smiles at the bartender when asked if he’d like a drink. There’s just only one thing he drinks, and it’s not on any of the menus.

Jung Yunho is a vampire, with only two purposes at the club. The first one, a necessary and immediate need to feed. Crossing states without detection from both human and vampire is no easy task, a technique taught to him by his maker, the one who had sired him. The only downside is the energy drain it encompasses, bringing about the immediate need to feed. And so here he is.

The other purpose is one a little more personal. It goes without saying that immortality without a companion is worse than death to a vampire. All vampires are taught by their makers, that there will come a time in their long, long lives where they will leave in search for their own companions. They will know their mate first by scent, one that will allure and draw them, a particular scent that will burn into them.

The rest of it is as simple as it gets. Find your mate, sire your mate, live forever together. Following the final demise of his maker in a bloodbath, Yunho’s choices are limited to dying along with his maker, and seeking a companion of his own.

He had been twenty-five and dying then, a knife wound from a thief when his best friend and lover, Jaejoong had found him. He had already known about Jaejoong, Jaejoong already at least fifty years older than he had looked. Jaejoong had made him the offer to join him after two years together, but Yunho had turned it down with a smile.

Maybe when I’m really no longer meant for this human world, Jaejoong-ah. Don’t think bad of me, Yunho had said then. Jaejoong had merely nodded with a sad smile, pecking Yunho on the cheek before lying back down in bed, eyes transfixed on the ceiling.

‘Let me save you, please, let me, Yunho-yah,’ Jaejoong had cried, cradling Yunho’s dying body in a dark alleyway, dark, bloody tears streaming past his cheeks and falling onto Yunho’s. The smell of Yunho’s blood was so strong, Jaejoong’s head was in a whirl.

‘I’m supposed to love you, and I do, but I can’t if you don’t let me,’ Jaejoong had pleaded, ‘please, Yunho-yah.’

Yunho didn’t have a chance to answer, slumping and losing consciousness against Jaejoong, bleeding steadily from an open wound. Jaejoong looked down at the body in his lap, hesitated only for a moment before puncturing his own wrist and placing it over Yunho’s mouth. More tears pooled in his icy blue eyes, looking down at the man, completely at a loss.

Jaejoong slipped a hand around Yunho’s back, holding his body steady while his own blood continued to drain into Yunho’s mouth. Trembling kisses and an apology, I’m sorry, Yunho-yah, I have no choice, were pressed against the skin of Yunho’s neck, just before Jaejoong plunged in.

Yunho doesn’t believe in fate, but he can’t ignore sheer coincidence that he picks up a scent the moment he stops after taking a flying leap, landing on top of a university building. It’s too faint, but Yunho can almost taste the sweetness on his tongue, smooth and warm like fresh honey. He follows it as far as a block of apartments, trail dying when a strong gust blows the less than aromatic smell from a garbage can, clogging his senses.

He locates a club just down the road from the apartments, deciding that he might as well fill himself up while waiting.

It isn’t long before he pushes himself off his stool, sauntering towards the dance floor with precise steps. Warm bodies surround him immediately, both men and women dancing and grinding against him. One heavily made-up woman attaches herself to him, grinding a pert bottom against his crotch, teasing out the beginnings of an erection. He lets himself encircle arms around her abdomen, pulling her flush against him as they grind together along to the heavy beat of the music.

He darts a tongue out, licking at the skin and sweat along the curve of her neck, catching the smell of alcohol pumping in her veins. She had drunk enough alcohol to put her into her current intoxicated state, but it’s barely enough to get Yunho drunk even if he wanted to. He lets his voice drop into a low, husky whisper, breathing hotly into her ear.

‘Come with me.’ He pulls her with him, out of the club and towards the apartment blocks.

They find enough cover at the first block among shadows and dim lighting, and she immediately assaults his mouth with her tongue, leaning into a strong, hard body. She moans at the erection pressed against her abdomen, crying out when he slams her against a wall, a bruising kiss between them.

Her whole body shakes when a cold hand trails up the length of her thigh before cupping the soft flesh of her bottom inside her skirt, squeezing and massaging. Lips trailed along her outstretched neck, Yunho taking a small chunk of flesh to suck on.

No, Yunho really isn’t look for sex. It’s the way he’s been taught to hunt. Enthrall the humans, trap them, raise their body temperature close to fever pitch, drink your fill, don’t drain them dry. His body looks just like any other human’s, although perhaps of higher demand compared to most. It makes it easier for him. The prey come to him, and all he needs to do is wait. Like a moth drawn to a flame, humans flock to Yunho when he all but bats his eyelashes, most of them waking up with a terrible headache and a false impression of having had the best sex of their lives.

Yet, the only person Yunho’s ever slept with, whether as human or vampire, is Jaejoong.

Yunho lets his hands roam to more interesting places, feeling the heat rise around him. Close, so close.

Changmin coughs discreetly, or at least he tries to. Instead of clearing his throat gently into a clenched fist, it develops into convulsive fits, clamping a hand over his mouth in an attempt to rid himself of the tickle next to his vocal chords. His shoulders shake hard with each cough, tears springing to his eyes from the pain in his lungs, as though they’re trying to claw their way out through his throat.

In a rush for the bathroom, he knocks his chair over, ignoring the resultant angry glares and disgusted stares from the other library patrons. Bursting through the swing door of the washroom, he bends over a basin and begins coughing more fervently and dry heaving, a mix of spit and dark red blood dripping from his lips.

He rinses his mouth, clutching at his belly where it aches badly, and catches a stunned face staring at him through the mirror. Changmin frowns in confusion, but sighs when another look of loathing and disgust is thrown in his direction, the other person leaving the bathroom in a hurry.

Changmin splashes some water onto pale cheeks, rinsing the basin of his phlegm and blood. Looking back up at the mirror, he notes how his eyes are too large for his face, his cheeks hollow and gaunt, and every one of his features too pale and glazed over to be considered healthy. He tugs at his long sleeves; an attempt to cover up sores that don’t heal like they should.

He trudges out of the bathroom and back to the library, wincing at the stares and the glaring radius that’s been made around his table. He steps up to a shelf, picking a few more books to pile up in front of him, before sitting back down and studying for a midterm, hiding from discriminatory stares behind his wall of books.

Shim Changmin, twenty-two years old, undergraduate at Yonsei University, College of Medicine, one of the most prestigious medicine schools in South Korea. Shim Changmin, HIV positive. Changmin likes to laugh at the irony sometimes. One of the brightest minds ever to step into Yonsei also happens to test positive for one of the most dreaded diseases in the world.

No, Changmin doesn’t do drugs that involve poking his arm repeatedly, neither does he visit brothels or love hotels in his free time. He just counts himself as extremely unlucky that he had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Just his luck that he’d met with an accident, suffering heavy blood loss from a torn artery in his thigh.

Everything else had gone well, his artery patched up, his broken ribs and hip on the road to healing despite the nagging pain that morphine couldn’t cover up. There’s an ugly scar starting on the inside of his thigh just next to his crotch right down to before his knee, but Changmin figures a scar is a scar, and nothing long pants couldn’t cover up.

Nothing could prepare him for the worse news, when the doctor had walked into his ward after a month of recovery with the gravest, and possibly the most apologetic expression Changmin’d ever seen on a person.

He remembers nodding vaguely when the doctor had asked him of his knowledge of blood donations, the importance of not donating when you’re infected with blood-borne diseases, and the endangerment to others this poses. Somewhere along the way, things had started clicking together in Changmin’s head, and he had blurted it out, interrupting the doctor halfway through an explanation entailing the surgeons needing to give him about five bags of blood during surgery, and the bags they got were straight from the donation centre.

‘I’ve caught something, haven’t I?’ he had whispered, eyes trained on the bumps his toes make under the blanket. He had stared back at the doctor with pleading eyes, seeking some form of confirmation. The doctor had shaken his head in regret, but nodded solemnly, tight-lipped.

‘What is it?’ Changmin had asked. He had more or less known, judging from the way the doctor had avoided eye contact entirely, but it’s just that part of him that needed to hear the words. The doctor had started going on again about how they should have screened the blood first before using it, but you were losing blood so quickly, until Changmin cuts him off with a half attempt at a glare that comes off more pleading and desperate.

Three syllables changed Changmin’s life forever. From being a student at Yonsei University, having a very bright future, a chance at pursuing his ideal career and being able to find a partner and settling down with kids, to a world of bleak hopelessness and discrimination.

H-I-V, the doctor had said.

There’s a gentle tap on his shoulder as he continues poring over a text on human anatomy. Looking up, Changmin sees the old librarian smiling kindly at him, tapping her watch, indicating that it’s closing time. He glances out the window, noting vaguely that it’s dark outside. Moving to replace the books back onto their shelves, he leaves the library with a small smile for the old lady, shouldering his bag and walking out, hands in his pockets.

A cool breeze whips at his face, while fallen leaves dance in the wind along the pavement as he walks along the main road. He passes a ramen cart on the way home, a waft of kimchi and seafood permeating the air. He stops to contemplate, only to shove his hands back into his pockets, listening to the jingle of coins and his keys. He’ll have to pass on dinner again, recalling the bottles of medicines that have been empty for far too long and a long overdue appointment at the hospital. Changmin would buy some more pills for his anti-HIV treatment, but there’s no buying if he can’t pay for any of it.

He walks the long road home, past a seedy-looking club and up the hill to an old, rundown apartment he calls home. He lives alone in an apartment big enough for just him, after an accident a little less than a year ago took his parents away. It's part of the reason he can no longer afford treatment, his body deteriorating to its current state.

Just at the bottom of the stairwell, he notices a couple in the corner, a young man with a girl pressed up against the wall. Audible moans spill from the girl’s mouth as the young man’s hands travel lower, lips trailing and latching onto a patch of skin just under her chin, sucking gently. Her hands wind around his neck, pulling him closer and urging him on.

Changmin knows he shouldn’t stare, but he can’t help it. Even if it is a sexual attraction between two people, it’s still something Changmin longs for, something he doesn’t have the privilege of. If people look at him long enough, observe him enough, they usually come to the conclusion that there’s something wrong with him, and end up avoiding him like a plague.

He startles, when the girl's moans are cut off on realizing he’s standing there, rooted to the ground. She glares at him, making a noise of annoyance when the other man ceases nibbling along her throat in favor of looking at Changmin. An apology just about falls on Changmin’s lips, until the man’s eyes glow a bright gold, an almost predatory expression masking handsome features. A soft gasp escapes Changmin’s lips as he stumbles backward in fear, racing up the staircase to his apartment.

Had he been hallucinating? Those eyes he had seen, glowing? Changmin barely has time to come to any conclusion or even catch a breath as he slams the door on a foot stuck in the gap. He stumbles backward, landing hard on his bottom as his door swings open in full, and he sees the same young man.

‘I-I- ‘ Changmin tries to say, but words and nerves fail him entirely as the other man crawls over him till he’s flat on his back, running a hand through his hair. The other man buries a nose against him, running it along the length of his neck, inhaling deeply, licking languidly at the skin. The movements cause him to shiver, the smaller hairs on his arms and the back of his neck standing. The voice that he hears comes out deep and smooth, and much to his surprise, a little concerned.

‘You’re sick, aren’t you?’ the other man asks, placing two fingers under Changmin’s chin, tilting his head up so their eyes can meet.

Changmin has an answer, he always does, except they don’t usually die in his throat and come out as a short breaths of air. The other man smiles gently at him, and in a short span of two seconds Changmin begins questioning his own sexuality and the possibility that he might be gay.

In the next fifteen seconds or so, he stops questioning himself and just comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t give a fuck about whether he likes girls or boys. Or rather, he would think this way if he wasn’t so clearly distracted by the warm mouth pressed against his, soft and gentle and unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.

He's unsure what to do, frozen and not moving. It feels strange and foreign to have something so warm and smooth that isn’t food on his lips, yet the feeling’s hardly unpleasant. It dawns on him that he's never been kissed before, let alone in this manner, if one could count sitting as stiff as a wooden plank as reciprocating a kiss. His hands lie useless on his side, clenching around the hem of his shirt, searching for some link to reality.

It's when the other man finally pulls away, barely brushing the side of Changmin’s mouth, does Changmin notice a faint glow in those eyes again. A small whimper forms in the back of his throat, a sudden fear overwhelming him. Normal people don't have glowing eyes. This guy is obviously not normal.

'W-Who- ' Changmin stutters, sitting up and slowly inching away from the man crouching next to him.

The man doesn't respond, instead shaking his head and sighing, sitting down cross-legged beside Changmin.

'You're body is going to die, isn't it?' he asks, looking pitifully at Changmin.

'How did you- '

'I can take it all away, take the disease away and make you just like me, you could live forever with me,' the man continues, looking directly at Changmin. 'We can do things together, visit places we've never been to.'

'Who are you, and what do you want from me?' Changmin blurts out, arms hugging himself for whatever protection and comfort they might provide.

'Jung Yunho. I'm a vampire, just a little under a hundred years old. What do I want from you? If you were any other person, I'd want your blood and maybe your flesh for interrupting my feed downstairs, and I am rather hungry. But because you're the one I'm supposed to find, then I won't have your blood. Not yet, at least.'

'Oh my god, you're going to kill me, oh g-god, please don't kill me,' Changmin whispers, tears welling up in his large, brown eyes. He'd never thought he would fear for his life so much until now. Even dying from AIDS seems the lesser of the two evils now.

Yunho blinks in surprise. He bites his lower lip, a small fang peeking out from under his upper lip. He hadn’t meant to scare the poor boy at all. A hand reaches out hesitantly to Changmin’s cheek, where a single tear rolls down when he blinks rapidly. Gently, Yunho brushes a finger over, picking the droplet on his index finger, wiping it from Changmin’s face.

‘What’s your name?’ he asks, folding his hands one over the other to rest on his lap. Yunho notices the tremble in the other man’s lips, at a loss of to put the other at ease. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t want to. You’re supposed to be a very important person to me.’

‘Tell me your name, and I’ll tell you everything I’m supposed to, and then depending on how things go, I’ll leave you alone forever,’ Yunho adds, reaching to gently pry Changmin’s hand apart, tightly fisted in his shirt sleeve his knuckles are almost white.

Changmin flinches from the touch, Yunho’s hand icy cold in his, yet surprisingly soft and tender in the way Yunho traces fingertips over Changmin’s knuckles. As strange as everything is, Changmin manages to suck in a few deep breaths and calm himself down, the stiffness in his shoulders finally relaxing.

‘Changmin, Shim Changmin,’ he tries. ‘My name is Shim Changmin.’

‘Changmin,’ Yunho says, feeling the name roll off his tongue easily. He lets the word sink in, imprinting it in some dark corner of his brain and on his unbeating heart.

‘Changmin,’ he repeats. ‘Is it alright if we sit and talk? I know I’m intruding, but please, let me explain everything.’

Changmin stares at Yunho, but nods wordlessly. They both stand, Yunho placing a hand on Changmin’s lower back, directing him to sit down. He takes a seat next to Changmin, the younger man’s scent hitting him like a brick wall, almost forcing him out of control. His own fangs start growing, the sharp points poking along the inner lining of his lower lip.

Yunho shuts his eyes, sighing. He lets a breath out through clenched teeth, hearing the soft gasp beside him. Changmin must have seen his elongated fangs. Yunho gives his head a hard shake, and feels his canines sink back into his gums. He can’t afford to let himself get out of control. He would just end up hurting Changmin instead.

‘I-Is there… anything I can get you?’ Changmin whispers, feeling very small and afraid. ‘Y-You said you’re hungry, I have some food-‘ Changmin makes to get up and retrieve food from his kitchen, but a hand shoots out to tug at his wrist, pulling him back down. Yunho opens his eyes slowly, listening to the erratic heartbeat coming from Changmin’s chest.

‘You’re very afraid, I know. There’s only one thing that will nourish me, and it’s not in your kitchen,’ Yunho mumbles, rotating head around a little. When he finally opens his eyes again, Changmin flinches at the brighter glow