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Summary
Minho never wanted to spend his rut with anyone ever again. Except now, he has to.
Enter Jisung, who coincidentally needs someone to spend his next heat with.
During the three days they spend locked up together, Minho has the best sex of his life, falls head over heels in love - and relearns how to trust himself.
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Half an hour in, Jisung’s nose picks up the aromas lingering around the room again. Minho's scent envelops all of his senses, eases the pain in his lower back and the headache pounding at the front of his brain. When he looks at Minho again, the patches on his neck are still plastered over his skin, but he’s missing the one on his right wrist.
Comfort wraps around him and settles in the lining of his muscles, the tissue of his bones. He’s so drowsy, Jisung feels like drifting off and curling around himself to hopefully catch up on his missing hours of sleep, but he has to work, he has to talk with Minho and–
“Sleep, Jisungie. I’ll work on this, okay? It’s my field. You rest for a bit.”
or; Jisung can't sleep. But then he pairs up with Minho for a school project, and his whole world shifts around him.
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Jisung turns his head to give Minho an angry squint. “I feel like you’re trying to trick me. I don’t know how, or for what reason, but you are.”
Minho isn’t looking at him anymore, scrolling on his phone, gracing Jisung with his ridiculous side profile. “I would never trick you,” he says, voice as flat as the plains of Colorado.
“That sounds like something someone who’s trying to trick me would say.”
“Jisung.”
“What.”
“Come here.” He clicks his phone off and sets it on the nightstand between their beds, then pats his thigh.
“What?” Jisung short circuits for a moment. Minho wants him to… what? Sit on his thigh? Isn’t that a little forward? That has to be skipping at least ten steps. They’ve only known each other for, like, less than 72 hours. And a majority of that was spent antagonizing one another.
“I said come here.” And he pats his thigh again as if that’s a completely normal thing to do.
or
jisung goes on the most miserable road trip of his life and meets a hitchhiker named rhino.
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Summary
Someone else was there.
A presence to his right and Jisung’s pulse skipped in the worst possible way.
“Well,” Minho drawled, leaning casually against the wall beside him “that’s a pretty uncomfortable position.”
“No shit” Jisung hissed, still struggling.
“Fuck off” the other vampire snarled over his shoulder. “Find your own dinner.”
Minho laughed. A soft, airy giggle that absolutely did not belong in an alley where someone was about to die.
Jisung honestly wondered if he was hallucinating.
Pinned to a wall by a vampire he nearly killed, and another immortal one appears like this is some sick comedy show.
“Did you miss me, Jisung?” Minho asked, tilting his head with a small pout.
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Summary
Minho’s gaze flicks downwards, as if checking something out, and then it flicks up again. Suddenly closer. The library is warmer. He didn’t turn the heating up too high again, did he?
“You’re looking good, Jisung-ssi.”
“Hyung,” Jisung murmurs softly. “Hyung’s fine.”
OR: Jisung is a virgin dilf, and Minho, a notorious college fuckboy, happens to think it’s hot.