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The club was big and overcrowded. MinHo could barely see anything beyond the silhouettes lit up by the flickering lights around him. Bodies too close together, sweat, loud music. And, in truth, he could also make out a certain smell of… iron? mixed with alcohol.
The place wasn’t exactly trustworthy anyway. TaeMin had led him through dark, desolate alleys, with very strange people rolling around on every corner. Some looked more asleep than awake while their partner devoured their neck. MinHo had pointed this out, but TaeMin waved a hand dismissively.
“It’s always like this around here. You’ll see why.”
He wished he could say he was worried about drug use or something like that, but TaeMin knew him too well. If it was about excess alcohol or even pills, that was fine. MinHo could maybe take one or two. He was far too sick of sobriety in the real world.
It wouldn’t be the first time anyway, so TaeMin was right: it probably didn’t matter.
But the truth was the truth. The place was ugly.
A clandestine space turned nightclub. Fun if you didn’t think too much about your safety, sure. MinHo realized TaeMin was no longer with him when, turning around to speak to him in the middle of the crowd, he found himself staring at the back of a pale, disoriented girl holding a glass of… whatever that was.
Shit, he had to calm down. It had never been hard for him to find a casual partner in regular clubs, and this one shouldn’t be any different. It was just less… public, but that was fine. He could make out with anyone on the dance floor for a while and, if he felt like it later, take it further. The same routine as always.
A shoulder slammed into his and MinHo turned just in time to keep the man stumbling into him from falling completely. He looked pretty drunk, but he was holding a glass filled to the brim with who-knew-what kind of suspicious alcohol. MinHo took it from his hands and patted him on the head.
“Get going, bud.”
The man obeyed. MinHo dared to take a sip of the drink after sniffing it first.
It tasted bitter and heavy, burning his throat on the way down. He coughed harshly to shake off the sensation just as one of the ceiling lights forced him to shut his eyes. The whole place was overstimulating.
When he opened them again, he saw him. His head spun. MinHo wondered how strong whatever he’d drunk had been to mess him up like that.
Or maybe it wasn’t the alcohol. Maybe the dizziness was the red-haired boy standing in front of him.
He was hard to describe. Standing on the other side of the makeshift dance floor, his eyes were fixed on MinHo, and MinHo found himself unable to pull his own away. He tried to turn, but his feet wouldn’t respond; so he stayed there, frozen in the middle of bodies swaying and grinding against each other around him.
The boy lifted one corner of his mouth into a crooked smile. Unlike MinHo, no one even brushed against him, but Choi also noticed a small group of strangers sitting beside him, watching him with wide, yearning eyes. Not too far from his own expression.
But he didn’t seem to care. A chill crawled down MinHo’s spine when the stranger took a step toward him.
Again he felt dizzy, unable to move, an uncomfortable tug in his stomach; probably anxiety. He wanted to turn around and run far away before the boy reached him, but at the same time, in a contradiction of his own making, he wanted to stay there and wait.
The smell of iron grew stronger. The boy’s gaze, now decipherable up close despite the near-total darkness, did too.
His eyes were red and vibrant, just like his hair. MinHo managed to look him up and down by the time he was pressed against his body. He looked ethereal, unreal despite the casual, actually careless outfit. The torn shirt clung to his waist better than a corset, distracting MinHo enough not to focus on his unnatural pallor.
His mouth watered, but when he swallowed, the same dryness from that first sip remained.
The boy took the glass from his hands. Once it was in his own, he looped his arms around MinHo’s neck.
He radiated such overwhelming confidence that MinHo didn’t even know what to say, so he simply yielded. Standing still, letting himself be handled. The stranger’s smile widened.
“Kibum.”
God in heaven. His voice was the most delicious sound MinHo had ever heard. Velvety and clear despite the loud music; delicate and masculine at the same time.
Moved by an impulse that felt unusual even to himself, MinHo found enough courage to place his hands on the other’s waist, so small he could circle it completely. He swallowed a gasp of pure surprise.
“MinHo.”
Well, they had introduced themselves. Kibum pulled him closer, forcing their bodies flush together. MinHo felt his eyes trail from his face down to his visible collarbones beneath the shirt he was wearing. Then he saw him lick his lips with total shamelessness, something he liked more than he cared to admit.
“Did you come alone?”
“With a friend.”
Kibum purred in acknowledgment. The music and the crowd seemed to have lowered their volume all at once. Now they danced in isolation, oblivious to everyone else.
“Should I be worried about this friend of yours?”
MinHo’s eyes widened. He hurried to answer.
“No. We’re just friends.”
He had even shaken his head from side to side, as if afraid the boy wouldn’t believe him. Kibum laughed.
“Good.”
MinHo felt strange. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it was as if he no longer had control over himself. As if those magnetic eyes kept him from looking at anyone else. His hips moved to the rhythm the redhead set, and his hands, almost like the mass of people imitating them, roamed his body with more desperation with every passing second.
He didn’t know what was happening to him. He felt anxious again, as if his time with the boy were slipping through his fingers with every caress. The idea of losing him from his grasp spread through his mind like a disease. The mere contact was addictive.
Kibum turned around within his arms, letting his palms rest against his abdomen as he moved. MinHo didn’t hold back. He squeezed his waist hard, leaving the reddish imprint of his fingers on his white skin. Then he slid them through the holes in the shirt, feeling it directly.
Kibum was ice-cold. But despite the contrast with his hot, hungry touch, he kept dancing against him with a precise, careful rhythm; seductive. MinHo felt when he took his hand to pull it away from his abdomen and instead guide it up to his neck just as he tilted his head back, letting it rest on Choi’s shoulder. That was when MinHo paid attention to his lips, parted unlike his tightly shut eyes.
They were as red as carmine. Like blood. Wet and parted as if inviting u to taste them. He leaned in slightly to try to savor them, but just as their noses brushed, Kibum turned his face and buried it directly in his neck.
MinHo shuddered when he heard him breathe. Was he smelling him? It wasn’t as if he could smell like anything other than tobacco and sweat.
Even so, Kibum whispered in his ear with a smile against his skin.
“You smell good.”
He swallowed.
Kibum turned again. His face remained buried in the curve of MinHo’s neck, brushing it up and down with his nose. MinHo’s hands slid down to his hips, having completely forgotten about everyone else in the place. A pleasurable shiver ran down his spine when, suddenly, Kibum’s warm breath left his skin and was replaced by his icy lips.
He felt one kiss, then another and another. One by one climbing up his throat to his chin. His eyelids were beginning to grow heavy.
“I bet you taste even better.”
Kibum’s hand settled at the back of his neck. MinHo didn’t protest the control. He liked it.
He nodded slowly before answering, more willing to surrender than he had ever imagined.
“Try.”
He felt Kibum’s smile against his throat. Then his tongue sliding over him, tasting the salty flavor of his sweat. The groan of pleasure that escaped him made Kim’s eyes glitter with desire.
“Such obedient prey,” he murmured, his teeth tugging at MinHo’s earlobe. “So cute.”
His lips returned to his neck. Then he felt it: The sharp edge of something. A pain both soft and piercing at once, fused with something deeper, more indecipherable, overtook him. MinHo felt his pulse race. The sudden burn in his neck spread to his chest and then to his limbs. It hurt. It burned like hell. Scorching to the point of despair
That was when he realized Kibum was biting him. Not a normal bite, no. He wasn’t leaving him a hickey. He was biting him as if he meant to devour him.
He lifted his hands to his chest, but he found no strength to push him away. Kibum, instead, held him tighter by the nape.
Then he sucked.
MinHo’s pained moan shifted into something else… something pleasant.
His mind went blank. An unexpected ecstasy replaced the pain completely and all at once. It was better than snorting cocaine (even though he’d never tried it, but come on, it had to be); better than his best orgasm.
He didn’t notice his legs trembling, nor the moment they gave out entirely. He didn’t need to: Kibum held him up effortlessly.
The lights turned hazy, the crowd slowed, and the club spun.
Then came the darkness.
MinHo woke up in the middle of the floor. A torn, thin blanket was the only thing separating him from the industrial concrete. It was dark, but the distant thrum of music vibrating through the walls made it clear he was still inside the building that housed the “club.” He pushed himself upright, sore and disoriented.
His body felt wrecked, as if each one of his bones had been surgically removed. He remembered Kibum, then the bite.
His hand flew to his neck immediately.
The mark was still there. No, it hadn’t been a dream or some strange hallucination. It was real.
He hissed when he pulled his palm away from the wound. It was still open and tender. When MinHo looked at his hand, he found dried blood on it, the same blood that had reached almost to his shoulders.
He was horrified. Or rather, he thought he should be, but he couldn’t. Something stopped him.
The overwhelming pleasure he had experienced. The trembling, the sudden dizziness, the weakening body. Even the burn had been exquisite.
He swallowed. He was an idiot, that was certain. An idiot for wanting –not to get away– but to experience it again.
He was about to stand when a voice behind him stopped him cold.
“Hey.”
MinHo turned as soon as he heard it. The same red hair greeted him again, but this time, while he still felt irreversibly drawn in, he also felt afraid. A different kind of anguish than before; the kind that had been unknown and almost purely instinctive. Now it was clear. He knew what he was afraid of.
The boy had drunk his blood straight from his neck, but as terrible as that sounded, what scared MinHo more was something else.
That he had enjoyed it.
He staggered to his feet. He was still unsteady, legs trembling, his body clumsy. Kibum took a step forward and MinHo stepped back. That made the boy stop.
“Oh. You don’t like me anymore?”
“What do you want? Why are we here? What are you?”
Kibum smiled. The same flirtatious, arrogant smile as before.
“I’m sure you already know. All of it.”
Then he started walking towards him again. MinHo, awkwardly, tried to retreat once more, stepping back, but the blanket he had been sleeping on bunched beneath his feet and tangled around his ankle, making him fall.
He hadn’t even hit the ground when Kibum’s hand was already at the back of his neck. By the time MinHo registered it, Kibum was on top of him, positioning his legs on either side of his. His hand slid from MinHo’s nape to his throat, squeezing gently.
MinHo choked back a gasp. His legs screamed to move away, but instead, driven by the same submission he had felt in the middle of the crowd under those same eyes, he bared his neck. The very spot where he had been bitten before.
His own voice echoed inside his mind as if it didn’t belong to him: Please, bite me.
Kibum seemed to hear the words as clearly as if he had spoken them aloud.
“I’m not going to bite you, even if I’m dying to. Not until you are ready. Not until you beg.”
A pleasant shiver ran through MinHo. He didn’t understand why everything that came from Kibum felt so good. He had him trembling with fear and arousal at the same time. He didn’t want to beg for anything… but he wanted Kibum to force him to.
He leaned back instinctively when he felt him bend over him. His eyes closed at once in anticipation as Kim’s face hovered inches from his neck again. He felt his breath against his ear and then the soft sigh that slipped from between his lips.
“You have no idea how good you taste, do you? It was so hard to pull away from you. I thought I was going to kill you…”
MinHo moaned, loud and clear, without any shame. The shock of his own reaction made him snap his eyes open, realizing not only the desire in his voice, but the need in his body.
He was hard. Aching and trapped inside his pants, right beneath Kibum’s hips and right after hearing him say he had almost murdered him. He seemed to notice too –or maybe he had known all along– because he laughed, low and delicious, against his fully flushed cheek.
“You need it so badly, don’t you? Not just the bite…”
Kibum’s lips hovered over his, brushing them dangerously. MinHo parted them for him, breathless and desperate for a kiss that never came. Instead, Kibum’s tongue licked his lower lip and then his upper teeth. A sensual swipe that made his head spin. His hand tightened more roughly around his throat, forcing him to keep his eyes locked on him.
“You need me.”
MinHo had no way out. Fighting would be useless; not only against Kibum, but against his own desires. What did it matter to admit it? The boy was right. About everything. He needed him, craved him more than anything in his life.
He nodded. First slowly, then frantically, eyes squeezed shut.
“Yes… yes, yes. I want you. I need you.”
He thrust forward hard, fear now completely lost. Pure need, contained desire. The movement made Kibum’s ass rub slightly against his cock, and that small friction was enough to tear another guttural growl from him. He tried to capture Kibum’s lips with his own, but the boy didn’t allow it. He pushed him back down onto the blanket with impressive ease. For a second MinHo thought he might have offended him, but he was smiling, Though softer now.
“Slow down, sweetheart. It’ll be better for both of us. Trust me.”
And oh, MinHo did, in a twisted way or not. He was trusting him with his life, after all, in exchange for a little pleasure. Carnal, or something better.
He nodded up and down, obeying Kibum even in that. Slow. Kibum’s smile widened. On top of him, his hand traveled from MinHo’s neck down to his abdomen and then to the waistband of his pants. Slowly but firmly, his palm covered the bulge in his crotch. MinHo writhed, delighted.
“Fu-ck.”
“You humans are always so sensitive… so fragile.”
MinHo didn’t even think to protest. As far gone as he was from just one touch, he didn’t notice the moment Kibum freed him from his pants and underwear until the cold air of the half-abandoned building hit his heated skin.
He looked at his own erection with longing; then into Kibum’s eyes. He was begging him with his gaze to touch him, wasn’t that enough yet?
He bit his lip hard when icy fingers finally gave him the relief he needed, curling around him.
“Don’t be so greedy, honey. It won’t bring you no good.”
But MinHo couldn’t promise him anything about his longing. He wanted everything: the bite, his body fucking him as if he were nothing more than an object for his own pleasure. He felt out of his mind. All that repeated in his head was the relentless plea to be touched, to be used.
“Please, don’t stop.”
It was fucked, because MinHo was almost whining while Kibum was only jerking him off with his hand. He didn’t mind when he heard him laugh, though. He knew how diminished and ruined he must look. In truth, with Kibum, it felt good to show himself like that: human.
He wanted Kibum to take advantage of his vulnerability. To tear him apart.
He came with a high-pitched moan when Kim’s thumb traced circles over his tip. Not really from the stimulation itself, but because in the middle of it he remembered the original intoxication of the bite.
He struggled to catch his breath. When the haze of orgasm cleared from his eyes, he found Kibum sliding his pants down to his ankles.
His breath caught.
“Are you gonna-?”
“I’m going to fuck your brains out.”
He better do, because MinHo was aching for it. His trembling fingers went to his own shirt, unbuttoning it. He needed to ease the heat drowning him somehow.
Kibum lifted himself slightly, just enough to let MinHo’s cock slide beneath him. It was a dirty and yet delicate friction that made them both sigh, though Kibum seemed far less undone than he was. The contrast made MinHo feel small.
Kibum was going to ride him, to “let himself be fucked”, but they both knew very well who was fucking who.
His hands itched. Should he touch him? Could he? Because MinHo wanted to. The desperation to stroke that pink, glossy cock was even greater than the need for his own relief.
He wanted to please Kibum. Be useful to him. He wanted to make him feel as good as he made him feel, though he didn’t even believe that was possible. Not without, well, his… unnatural attributes.
MinHo was handsome. The people he fucked usually said he was good at it; but there was no comparison to Kibum, to the way his eyes pulled you in like moths to a flame and the brush of his hands stole your sanity.
He was a vampire, after all. Everything about him drew MinHo –and anyone– like a prey.
Finally he decided to place his hands on Kibum’s exposed hips. Unlike the other parts of his body he had touched so far, these were warm. Bare skin, soft and milky, tinted faintly red when MinHo squeezed. He wondered how blood worked inside Kibum’s body. Whether it was an effect to better mimic being human, whether his immortality didn’t depend on fluids, or whether it actually worked better with them.
But he didn’t have time to drift further. Kibum grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, already terribly undone and wrinkled, and yanked him up, forcing him upright. His erection throbbed against Kibum’s ass. It didn’t even seem to remember he had already had a first orgasm. He let himself be handled.
“Keep your eyes on me.”
It was an order, not a sensual request. MinHo swallowed before nodding.
“This time I’m not going to let you come so soon.”
Kibum leaned toward his neck. MinHo’s hands trembled when he felt his breath near his bloodied wound. Kim’s tongue licked it slowly, groaning right after, though it sounded more like a growl.
“You taste so fucking good, even when it’s not fresh anymore.”
“Is that so?”
“Don’t you think?”
Well, he had no way to check. It wasn’t like he went around tasting his own blood. He shrugged.
Kibum tangled his fingers in his hair before answering with a macabre smile.
“I’ll give you a hint. Open your mouth.”
MinHo obeyed. Again with a trace of fear lodged in his chest; the same fear that vanished the moment Kibum pressed his lips to his.
The kiss was nothing romantic. It was hungry, aggressive.
Then he felt Kim’s fangs tear into his lower lip. He whimpered, but Kibum didn’t let him go. He bit harder, until the taste of iron mixed with the saliva in his mouth.
MinHo found nothing pleasant in the taste of his own blood, but the scene hardened him so much he almost came again.
Kibum didn’t waste any more time.
He lifted his hips slightly. With MinHo too focused on keeping up with his kisses, he barely reacted in time to pull back and catch his breath as the vampire grabbed his erection with one hand and aligned it with his entrance. He didn’t stop; not to breathe, not to adjust to MinHo’s length opening him up. Kibum lowered himself slowly onto his cock, not to protect himself, but to give the other time to adjust to the overwhelming heat of his insides.
MinHo, of course, thanked him mentally. Just being inside him could have sent him into ecstasy. His head fell back, eyes rolling, toes curling as he was flooded with pleasure.
“Shit,” he hissed. Kibum’s laugh rang sharp against his ears. “You feel so… good.”
“I know.”
MinHo swallowed thickly, the saliva pooling in his mouth. The metallic taste still lingered on his swollen lips. His chest rose and fell so fast he thought he might pass out. All his senses were distorted, and despite everything, the only thing he could focus on was the way Kibum’s walls tightened around him. Suffocating him. Not letting him pull out or even move.
The pale hands moved quickly from his neck into his hair.
“Min.” Choi’s eyes shifted immediately. Hearing his name from those lips felt strange. Sweet, even. “Look at me. You’ll be fine.”
Was the vampire consoling him? Could he see the effect his body was having on him? How wrecked he was?
Of course he could. But it was surprising that he wanted to reassure him that everything was fine. For whatever reason.
What felt like an eternity of waiting finally ended. Kibum kissed just beneath his left eye, over the mole on his cheekbone, and began rocking on his lap, eyes locked on his.
MinHo moaned, but he couldn’t look away.
“Good boy. That’s it. Keep looking at me. Does it feel good?”
Choi nodded, pupils blown wide. Kibum’s red hair moved with the rhythm of his body, up and down. It was hypnotic.
“You feel good too.”
His brain short-circuited. How could he say that? Comparing them was offensive. There was no way, in this world or any other, that Choi MinHo was making the vampire feel as good as the reverse.
But again, as if Kim had the ability –maybe he did– to read his thoughts, he smiled, flashing his fangs.
“You’re all the way in,” he said, his pale hand resting on his own stomach, almost reaching his navel. “So deep.”
Shit.
MinHo didn’t think. He pushed Kibum down onto the blanket, settling fully on top of him. His hands planted on either side of the redhead’s head and, without room for protest, he drove his hips hard against his.
It was a lie. A terrible lie that made him hot as hell. His mouth immediately crashed against the immortal’s.
“Fuck, yes,” Kibum growled against his lips. “Finally.”
“Did I make you wait too long?”
“I thought you’d never get your consciousness back.” MinHo laughed. His thrusts turned rougher; his moans louder. “I like when you act like pets, but- ugh- it’s good when you’re useful too.”
“Bite me.”
Kibum looked at him through narrowed eyes. He seemed amused by the request: the request that, in the haze, had sounded almost like a demand. His hands tangled again in MinHo’s dark hair and his legs hooked around his hips.
“Why should I?”
“Because I’m begging you.”
“This doesn’t sound like begging, hon.”
MinHo grabbed Kibum’s legs beneath his thighs, shoved them up against the immortal’s body, folding him nearly in half, and straightened enough not to crush him. Even for Kim, the movement was so sudden it tore a broken moan from him, a mix of pleasure and the faintest trace of pain.
“Lift your shirt,” MinHo said, sweat dripping into his hair. “Please.”
For the first time that night, Kibum obeyed instead of giving the orders.
Once he did, MinHo bent over him again, this time level with his chest. His tongue skillfully toyed with one of Kibum’s pink nipples as soon as he reached it. He worked it slowly, up and down, before moving to the other and repeating the same attention.
“You’re good with your mouth,” Kibum purred. His insides still pulsed around Choi’s cock. “Almost as good as me.”
“Not as good.”
He was right. Venom was a hard advantage to match. The vampire licked his lips.
“Keep going. Faster.”
MinHo looked up. He could see it: Kibum was close. Or at least that’s what his expression told him: Eyes squeezed tight, flush staining his sharp, pale cheekbones, full lips bitten raw, and the crimson sheen of MinHo’s blood along the edge of one fang. He was ethereal and terrible. A kind of lustful angel.
MinHo got lost again, just like at the start of the night, in the red of his irises when Kibum half-opened his eyes.
“Bite me,” he repeated. Kim let out a rough, broken laugh.
“Not yet.”
“Please… Please! I’m begging you.”
MinHo’s lips returned to his nipples. He sucked one hard, teeth pressing down enough to leave a mark more alarming than attractive, as if he truly meant to bite.
Maybe he did. Kibum arched.
“Fuck—yes!” MinHo left kisses down his chest before reaching the other nipple and repeating the same treatment. Kibum purred. “There. Harder. Faster.”
“Bite me,” MinHo insisted. Like a mantra. As if the plea alone could make it real. His thrusts turned sloppy, erratic. “Kibum, please, bite me. I’m so close, just… Bite me. Use me.”
MinHo didn’t actually expect it to happen, for Kibum to obey his pathetic demands. He released his legs when he felt strength leaving his arms and braced himself to stay upright. His face ended up buried between the immortal’s shoulder and neck, so close to his mouth yet not paying attention to it at all. The pleasure was exquisite and urgent. His legs trembled, and when he finally spilled, he felt Kibum’s cold, viscous climax over his stomach.
Then the burn. The family pain. The bite.
His eyes went white. The searing pleasure spread from his jugular to the tips of his toes. An icy shudder invaded him as soon as the heat faded.
He was dying. Kibum was devouring him.
And it felt good.
He forget everything. The fog in his head reduced him to sensation; the physical climax entirely forgotten, eclipsed by surrender to whatever that sucking at his neck was. His hand tried to find the other’s throat to push him away from his own, but it was a useless attempt. Kibum held him firmly against his mouth, his entire body trembling over his.
The world spun again. MinHo thought of the club, of the wide, unblinking eyes of the others who followed Kim as if spellbound. It made sense. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to be one of them.
The pleasure ended. A lightning bolt tore through him from the tips of his toes to the crown of his head. His chest tightened painfully and the dizziness stopped being a pleasant carousel, turning into pure disorientation. He babbled something; several things, actually. Kibum’s name among them. The immortal managed to settle him back onto the blankets in his place. Through the haze darkening his vision, MinHo caught sight of his swollen lips, the same carmine shade as his eyes, the same as before. An acidic smile that let a drop of his own blood spill over his mouth.
“I really hope you survive. We could have a lot of fun together if you can hold on a little longer. So, MinHo…”
The immortal’s tongue traced along his teeth before licking his lips, pale and yet swollen from the earlier kisses.
“Don’t die yet.”
His eyes closed. The music faded away.
The sound of suction and flesh filled his ears for the rest of eternity.