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"Going to him again?" I hear him ask as I straighten back up. My boots are laced comfortably tight, just the way I like them. They won't be coming loose until I'm struggling to kick them off at Jungkook's. That thought alone is enough for me to ignore the disdain and disgust that is intertwined in the question. It's a question that sounds too close to an accusation, but he and I have been down this road before.
I want to ignore Jimin because I know he's not going to like the answer. He never does. He thinks he has a claim on me because we fucked a few times, but that was meaningless and what feels like years ago. All before I met him. It was easier before I found Jungkook. Fucking anyone else now doesn't feel right. It didn't feel right fucking that blonde with the wide hips or the tall brunet with legs of pure muscle. And it really doesn't feel right fucking Jimin, even with his soft, golden skin or thighs that hold you close. Jimin can't compare to the pale face or pouty lips of pink. Jungkook makes me want to come undone, and Jimin simply can't.
When it first happened, I became angry and felt stupid. At that point, I hadn't even had Jungkook. He was just some nobody I saw when I was walking the street looking for a quick fuck and warm blood. But there he was with a threadbare hoodie of a deep purple and ripped jeans from wear rather than fashion. Even his sneakers were worn and used, but he, he was beautiful. The most beautiful person I've ever seen, and I've seen plenty of people over the years. When you're as old as I am, people come and go often - being left behind is inevitable when you live forever. But none of them have ever held my attention quite like he can.
I followed him home that night. He never even noticed my presence as I walked behind him from across the street. I waited outside the sketchy street of the decrepit edifice until I saw the light come on from a window on the third floor. The glass was dirty and the blinds broken and choppy, but the beautiful boy was perfect even in small glimpses between shitty blinds. I watched that window until the light was turned off two hours later. And even then I stood out there with my head tilted back for another half hour. I'm not even sure why I waited, but I felt a compulsion to do it. I didn't even continue to hunt that night. I returned back to the house and stared at my ceiling with thoughts of the beautiful stranger.
"I'll see you later." I respond with just that trying to keep the peace instead of an actual answer to his irritating question. The huff I hear back is that of frustration, almost as if the thought of me leaving is inconceivable. I pause in my step because I know he's not done and I'd rather get this over with now than have to hear it the next time I see him.
"So you are." It's not even a question, but I won't turn around to face him. His face will simply be contorted into that ugly mien he takes on when he's angry. And he's really rather cross at the moment. "Why? He's just some stupid boy. He's not like us!" It sounds like a hiss and the volume is overdone and unnecessary, but the hatred that it's laced with is just as well. He doesn't even know Jungkook. I made the mistake of telling Jimin about the beautiful boy I met after I finally talked to him. I didn't even notice the jealousy seething in Jimin until a few weeks later after I shared the fact that I took him for the first time. I was an idiot not to notice Jimin's unpleasantness through it all.
"Well," I begin as calmly as I can, "then it's a good thing he doesn't matter to you. Huh?" I make my way across the room towards the foyer so I can go to him, but Jimin speaks up in a harsh whisper, and stops me in my tracks.
"You're right, he doesn't matter to me. And he still wouldn't matter even if I were to drain him dry. Not even if he begged and cried for me to stop. He'd still be the stupid boy that doesn't matter!" And my hand is around Jimin's throat before I even realize I've moved.
My grip tightens around his neck and my nails are digging into his flesh and my eyes are staring up into his where his head is pressed hard against the wall. My voice goes so low it's practically a rumble and my other hand is balled into a tight fist. The skin is cold and familiar as I clench my fingers and squeeze as hard as I can.
"You touch him, you touch Jungkook, and I swear I will snap your neck, pull you apart, anything. He's mine. And if you even so much as go near him, you'll get what's coming to you, Jimin. I fucking promise you." And instead of dropping him to his feet, I throw him to the side where falls and slides some distance away. He lands hard and leaves scratches along the wooden floor where he tried to get a grip.
"Goodbye Jimin." I say right before I turn to make my exit. He still yells after me. Shouts of my name and pleas for me to stay, but I can't and I won't. I need to make sure Jungkook is safe. And then I need to feel him near me.
I walk to the convenience store he takes the late shift at every Monday through Saturday. He gets off in forty minutes, but no one is around anyway except the drunken stragglers. So I watch from across the street as he reads from his textbook. He studies and works nights, so he can continue to attend college during the days. I asked one time what he was studying and I never seen him smile so brightly. It ached the hole in my chest where my heart used to beat wildly. So I never asked him about school again. I didn't want to ask him much of anything because I was jealous of everything that could make him smile so warmly and beautifully. I wanted to be the cause of it, but knew I was undeserving. It's very childish, I'm aware, but I can't help but feel this way. And not asking was easier than facing that reality.
When his shift finally ends, the sun is just starting to peak out. For this I am glad because much longer and I'd be facing a throbbing head, irritated skin, and burning eyes. But it's always so hard to just leave him there to make the trip back home alone. I need to watch to make sure he gets there safe even if he doesn't notice me following. I'm okay with being his shadow as long as he's safe.
There's nothing more for me to do but put up my thick hood and hide myself before I start to walk him home. And even though I'm dying to go inside with him when we get there, I know he's exhausted. He needs his sleep since he hardly gets any as it is. He won't have to work tonight, so I decide to hold off on letting him know I'm here. He can sleep and I can wait a bit before going in.
I miss him already and all he's done is enter his apartment, leaving my sight for just seconds. I'm such a fool. It's pretty laughable how much I want to be beside him and how often I crave to see him. I don't even crave his blood or body as much as I just crave his presence. In what feels like no time at all, Jungkook is back in his apartment. The closed blinds rattle by the open window as his door shuts. The click is nearly inaudible, but I know when to listen for it. The blinds remain as closed as possible, but I know he's grabbing a quick bite before he goes to sleep. I'm too familiar with his routine by now, but I want to know more, everything I can about him.
My hunger for all things Jungkook is so far from being normal or healthy, but that's okay. I'm not normal. In what world is a vampire considered normal? When is obsession ever healthy? None of it matters right now anyway. I should go in soon though. The sun will become unbearable within minutes. But a part of me wants to give Jungkook more time to fall into a deep sleep so I don't wake him. I know I can be quiet, but Jungkook shouldn't be disturbed if I can avoid it.
Another fifteen is all I can give before the sun directly shines. But that's only part of my eagerness. The bigger part is too giddy to wait any longer, so I rush up to his apartment and ever so quietly turn the knob. He stopped locking his door months ago. I wish he wouldn't since his neighborhood isn't the best, but it makes sneaking in much easier.
I manage to be light as I carefully walk to the bedroom door that's slightly ajar. His mouth is parted as barely audible breaths leave his lips. The light snores make a happiness fill my body. I'm glad that he's managing to get some sleep in. The chair in the dark corner remains empty, but not for long. My knees are pulled up to my chest as I watch his chest rise and fall slowly. He would rather I wake him than watch him, I'm sure, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. Especially not with how peaceful he looks. Almost like an angel, if angels were real.
Without even noticing, more than half the day has slipped by. I'm startled by the loud noise coming from his nightstand. It lets me know that it's now early evening. But with the noise comes sleepy, swollen eyes opening up for the first time in hours. He's gorgeous. No surprise there, but seeing him bleary eyed and soft from sleep is more than I can handle. I'm positive that I could stare at him always without ever growing tired or bored of the view. I've never seen anyone so perfect.
"Hey sleepyhead." The words leave my mouth so smoothly that it startled Jungkook. It seems like he hadn't expected me to turn up. Or maybe he didn't expect me to stay? That thought makes my happiness falter, but quickly disappears when I hear his response.
"Yoongi, you're here!" The voice is croaky, but filled with unmistakable happiness. I can't help but smile inwardly. The things he does to me without even trying are quite alarming. I wish I could have him to myself for the rest of my life, but that's impossible. The thought is morbid in a most ironic way. It has left a bad taste in my mouth and I frown and my eyebrows are furrowing before I've even realize my expression.
"Yoongi?" Breaks me from my thoughts and I can see concern on his face. I hate it. I only want to see him happy. Jungkook doesn't need anything but happiness always. So without answering, I start to unlace my boots. I'm doing a poor job of it so I get them just loose enough to harshly pull my feet out. My jacket and pants are off before the thought crosses my mind and I'm hovering over him.
I can feel the heat coming off of the larger frame under me. Those brown eyes seem to stare deep into mine as if they can read my every thought. As if he knows how much I'm in love with him. I wish I could tell him how much I want and need him. Tell him what he means to me. Tell him I'd rather die than live a day without seeing him. But I couldn't burden him with that. I can't have him. He's human. He has a life to live, and I don't. There is no warmth from me. No tangible future, which is stupid because all I have is future. But it's not the same. I can't grow old with him. I can't get sick or age or stay in the same place for too long. I can't settle down, not with anyone.
So I show him. I show him how much I desire him. How much I love him with the touching. I want to be gentle and make love to him. Make love. That sounds silly and weird, but I wish I could do that. But I'm too desperate for him. Hungry, even. My mouth is covering his and those lips are getting sucked into mine. The warm tingle is lovely as usual and I can smell his sleepiness, but I can taste his arousal more. He wants me almost as much as I want him.
The erection is full as it rests under his thin pajama bottoms. His naked chest is smooth under my hand. I can feel his breath quickening as he breathes warm air onto my face. I want more. Always want more. My mouth doesn't leave his when my hands are tugging at his waistband. I wish I could rip these pants off of him, but I know he doesn't have much. I couldn't destroy what little he has just because I'm eager. I wish I could spoil him in new things. I tried giving him clothes once before, but he rejected them with 'I don't need this, please don't spend your money on me, I'm alright, really'. It's obvious he's not, but I don't like upsetting him. I never tried to give him anything after that no matter how much I wish I could.
Somehow I've managed to remove his bottoms without damaging them anymore than they are. And my hand grabs at the lube I didn't even notice him grabbing in the first place. I'm wasting no time though and I already have lube between his ass and my hand is massaging it in. I'm mesmerized by him - barely with eyes open, yet he tugs at his cock with expertise. I want to giggle with how cute and sexy it all is, but I don't want him to think I'm laughing at him so I refocus myself.
I'm only two knuckles in, but he's telling me he's ready so I pull his thighs apart and pull him closer before I enter the lovely heat of his body. Watching him bite his lip is something I enjoy every time it happens. I like it more than the soft groan that leaves his mouth when I stretch him open with my cock for the first time. He could ask anything of me and I wouldn't hesitate to give it to him. I'd bend over backwards for him if he'd let me. All he'd have to do is ask. That's it. Just ask.
But he has never asked anything of me. I don't think he ever will because he's too good. Too kind. He never expects anything from anyone. It's admirable and frustrating. I want to coddle him and provide for him. I want him out of this shitty apartment. He could live somewhere safe or we could live somewhere together. I want him working normal hours if he insists on working. I'd be more than okay with giving him money or buying anything and everything for him. I could easily provide for him for the rest of his life. But he will never ask. And I will never offer. He would decline. I know he would. He only takes what he earns.
But more than that, I can't truly give him what I want without taking his life. We can't have a shared future without me killing him. And I don't think I could live without his warmth. I don't think I could live without his blood. I don't think I could live with myself from taking him from this world that he's grown into.
Fuck.
I need to stop this thinking. I can't do this to him. So I flip the switch. The enamored Yoongi that I want nothing more than to give him, I can't. That would be cruel to us both, but mainly him. That part of me has to be shut down immediately. And I'm happy that my thoughts are always a million a second or he might have noticed my tribulations. I can't add another worry to his already heavy load. It would hurt me to know that I'm hurting him. I'm selfish, I know, but to hurt him would be unbearable. I don't need that burden. I don't want it.
Focusing on the present is all I can do for him. I turn off the love I have for him as much as I can and just give him pleasure. It's a reprieve from my shitty thoughts and his hard life. We can get lost in the sex and feel good for a few minutes.
My hands wrap around his lower thighs as I keep him in place and fuck into him. I feel more alive now than I ever did when I was human. Jungkook makes me feel happy and real and alive. I wish I could make him feel what he makes me feel. The pleasure on his face is enough for me though. Seeing him feel good because of something I'm doing is making my insides feel stupidly fuzzy. I want to be stupid and giddy and kiss him softly on the neck, but the giggle slips as I get closer to him so I hide it with an arrogant chuckle. I feel like an idiot for having to hide my feelings, but it's better this way for the both of us.
A lick and then a bite and the warm blood is entering my mouth. I've never tasted anything so good as his blood. No one has ever tasted this good. No food that the human me has ever had could have possibly tasted this good. His taste is indescribable, but it's the best thing that I've ever swallowed. His ass is clenching tightly around me and I'm loving it more than I have any right to. And not long after I've sank my teeth into him, he's clenching hard around me and his body is tightening and the airy groan is out of his throat and my chest is wet from his cum hitting me.
It's beautiful. Knowing I made him feel that good is conjunction with his body and blood, and I'm done as well. I'm cumming inside of him and it's one of the best feelings he gifts me with. I don't know what I love more, this or his smile. The happiness I'm feeling now is making me want to cry like a lovesick idiot so I'm off him as soon as I get my bearings.
He can't see me this way.
My clothes are in my hands and I'm in his bathroom within seconds. I don't have to see my expression to know I look a mess. It's getting harder to control them the more I'm around him. He brings out pieces and side of me that I thought were long since dead. I splash water on my face but it can't wash off my stupid smile. That smile only grows when I see the white, creamy substance in my chest. I drag a finger through it and bring it up to my mouth. Even that tastes brilliant. Everything about Jungkook is amazing. He's so incredible that it's painful.
And that's the thought that does it for me. The smile is gone and my chest aches, but at least now I can face him.
He's on the bed still but his back is to me. His body looks tight now and not relaxed like it was right before I went to the bathroom. He didn't even flinch when I opened the door. He's not asleep, I can smell something in the air that isn't welcoming. It's not angry or sad, but it feels distant. Before I realize it, my feet have taken steps in his direction, but I pause. He doesn't want me near him, I don't think. My fragile state couldn't bear a rejection from him. I don't think I could face that from him in prime condition, if I'm honest.
His body is beautiful, but unwelcoming. I don't blame him, either. I'm sure he has plenty of things to do today with the few hours he has left. Dinner will be soon for him as well. He's slept through most of his day off, so I don't want him to miss the rest of it. I grab the rest of my things before I push myself forward. If I hesitate or delay then I'll want to stay. And I can't. I've already taken too much of his time.
The sun is still out, but it's low enough to walk through. My thoughts are racing though. Part of me wants to turn around and crawl into bed with him. Ask him why he looked so tense. Ask him if he loves me too. Ask him if he'd spend the rest of his life with me even though I can't give him the happiness he deserves. I'm no cruel beast, so I force myself to go home.
But is it really a home without Jungkook? I hate that thought. I don't want to be so attached to him. I can't have him. He's not a thing to have anyway. He deserves the best of everything. He deserves someone that can live him completely and unconditionally. And though I want to be that someone, it's just not possible.
But I'm selfish.
I can't live without him.
I need him.
Want him.
So I'll come back. I'll return to him always for as long as he'll allow. I don't deserve it, but until he tells me no, I'm going to be there.
As long as he'll have me, I'm his.