Archive of Our Own

The mausoleum is dark, the sound of water dripping somewhere giving it a bit of a damp atmosphere, but that’s hardly what Jeno is worried about.

In front of him stands the most beautiful man he has ever seen, hair as black as a moonless sea and eyes just as ruthless. His skin is free from imperfections, his movements sure and graceful, and Jeno knows it is the walk of a predator approaching him.

When has Jeno turned into such easy prey? He doesn’t know. But what he does know is that his resolve is weak, and as the man inches closer, it becomes more obvious he isn’t a man at all, and Jeno has long since learned to not care.

“Just let me have you, Jeno,” the man says softly, his voice smooth as silk that wraps around Jeno’s neck like a noose. “I have chosen you, marked you as my own, and now all you have to do is let me claim you.”

The words send a shiver down Jeno’s spine, and though everything in his mind is telling him to resist, his body is frozen in anticipation, allowing the man to stalk closer.

“Jaemin—” Jeno breathes out, cutting himself off at the sound of his own unstable voice. His hands curl and uncurl into nervous fists at his sides, and he barely realizes it when those fists are taken into the cool grasp of Jaemin’s fingers. “Please. We can’t. I can’t—”

“Shhh,” Jaemin hushes gently, coaxing Jeno to open his hands and join them together with his own. Jaemin is cold to the touch, but Jeno is beyond used to it, and finds comfort in the contrast to his own burning skin. “I love you, Jeno.”

The words sting like the edge of a dagger, and if he weren’t being held by Jaemin he’d have toppled over at the sound. Everything melts away around them, and all he sees is dark hair and pale skin inching closer to him. His breath catches in his throat, and before he can part his lips to protest again, they are captured in a hungry kiss, stealing his resolve along with any sanity that had remained.

Jaemin wants him, and has proven he’ll do anything to have him, and Jeno begins to wonder if he feels the same too. 

🩸

Two Months Ago

Jeno and Renjun sit in the empty library after hours, sharpening stakes and refilling holy water and readjusting crossbows. It’s a typical Wednesday night, and all they’re missing is Jisung to bother them while they work. 

Jeno, however, wishes he would, because then maybe it’d spare him Renjun’s wrath when he tells him what his next assignment is, and Renjun thinks he’s lost his mind. 

Jeno isn’t sure he’s so wrong about that. 

“So you’re just gonna, what, have dinner with a demon?” Renjun asks incredulously, flailing  a stake in Jeno’s direction while he talks as if he wants to gouge his eye out with it. “Is Doyoung on fucking crack? Is it crack he smokes? That guy, that thing , has turned more people this month than some vamps turn in a year. His nest and list of loyalties are massive, endless, and he’s sticking you directly in the line of fang-fire. What kind of slayer goes undercover!”

Renjun is clearly furious, and despite how unreasonably hot headed he can be, Jeno doesn’t blame him for the outburst. It is a bit absurd, and Jeno has had his reservations about it, but he and Doyoung have had endless conversations and made backup plan upon backup plan. Doyoung is his watcher, and if he really thought he couldn’t take it, he wouldn’t send Jeno.

“Renjun,” Jeno says with a sigh, setting the unloaded crossbow down onto the solid wooden table amongst the unshelved books. “I know it’s dangerous, trust me, I know the risks, but this is my job . If I don’t do it, who will?”

Renjun rolls his eyes at that, but Jeno knows he knows he’s right. It’s why Renjun helps, it’s why everyone helps. Jeno didn’t ask to be a vampire slayer, it was handed to him, shoved down his throat and forced down with a glass of water like nyquil. It’s never been easy, but it must be done. 

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Renjun’s eyes flit up to meet Jeno’s, and Jeno knows what he’s going to say before he even parts his lips to do so. It’s a constant fear, and would be worse than death, but still Renjun speaks it into existence, voice soft as he continues. “If you got turned I don’t know what I’d do.”

Truthfully, Jeno doesn’t know what he’d do either. When you become a vampire your first few weeks are rocky, torturous, and all you can think about is kill, kill, kill . Afterwards and to eternity until someone puts a stake through your heart? You’re pretty much a fully functional body who just needs blood to survive. Some are more ruthless than others, like Jaemin Na, but others sip from blood bags and torture themselves with their own remorse. Either way, Jeno doesn’t like to think about it, and he finds himself fidgeting with the silver cross around his neck. 

“It won’t happen. Worst case scenario is he recognizes me and I have to escape before I can kill him, but even if he does then I’ll try again another way.” Determination flashes on Jeno’s semblance, and Renjun doesn’t push the issue further. He knows that every death at the hands of a vampire wears on Jeno’s conscience, even if they aren’t his fault, he feels responsible for them. To try and deny Jeno the chance at saving lives is a foolish and often fruitless effort.

That night, Jeno dreams of him. 

All around him there are thorny vines, digging into his skin and having him bleed onto the stone below. Jeno can’t see him, not yet, but he can feel him. 

Find me where the nightshade grows, and I shall put you to sleep , he says, a whisper in Jeno’s mind. He tries to yank himself free, to escape, but the harder he tries the deeper the vines rip into his flesh like a boa constrictor. 

I don’t want this, Jeno bites out, and he can feel hands sliding up his shoulders from behind. Please. 

There’s a laugh, echoing off the endless darkness that surrounds him, as those same hands slide around his neck. Jeno goes still, gasping as the hands tighten against his windpipe and keep him from intaking any more breath. Darkness paints his vision, splotches on the edges that hide the blood. Jeno thinks he’s about to pass out, but not before lips brush against his ear in a whisper. Jeno squirms. 

Find me, Jeno. Find me and you will never regret it. 

He doesn’t know what it means, doesn’t understand at all, and he doesn’t have time to try before everything goes black again. 

🩸

Renjun is nice enough to ignore Jeno during breakfast, for about 10 minutes, until he just can’t hold it in any longer. He’s used to the man showing up at the kitchen table with dark circles under his eyes and healing bruises on his cheeks, but this morning he looks particularly perturbed, and Renjun has long since learned that holding his tongue is impossible. 

“Nightmares again?” Renjun asks, stuffing a bite of syrup soaked pancakes into his mouth while sitting across from Jeno. Jeno just pokes at his with a fork, so Renjun knows something is wrong. Jeno can usually eat enough for an entire family.

Jeno just grunts noncommittally at the question, dropping his fork onto his plate with a clatter. Renjun sits back, startled, and takes another silent bite as he studies Jeno. He lets the dark haired man brood for a moment more, only the sounds of Renjun’s fork against his plate occupying the empty space until Renjun really can't take it anymore. 

“You know they’re worse when you don’t talk about them, Jen.” Renjun’s voice is soft, and he sets his fork down gently before reaching to take a small sip from his cup of tea. He allows Jeno a chance to reply, but the latter dips his head, staring down at his untouched plate of food. “I don’t think you should go tonight.”

Jeno huffs at that, his shoulders knitting together as if defensive. “Renjun, you know I have to.”

“Then talk to me so this won’t be plaguing your mind while you’re out. You need to be clear headed or we’re all fucked.” Jeno knows this, and Renjun knows that Jeno knows, but he has a horrible habit of trying to carry the world on his shoulders. Jeno has a fear of being vulnerable, because one wrong move and he’s plagued to a life where he lives as the thing he hates most in the world, and if that were to ever occur he’d be the first to drive a stake through his own soulless heart. 

“If I tell you you’re going to freak and try and hold me hostage,” Jeno grumbles as he takes a sip from his orange juice, though Renjun isn’t sure it does more than touch his lips. 

“Why? Because it was more than a bad dream?” Renjun pushes, he always does, and Jeno glares up at him through his lashes because he knows he’s right. Sometimes Jeno’s dreams are what some might call prophetic. They’re not exactly perfect visions, but they often mean something bigger than just a poor night's sleep. Jeno has predicted earthquakes and heartbreaks, anything from poor government decisions to tsunamis miles away. Jeno sometimes just knows before others do, and Renjun can tell that that’s why he’s so upset.

“I don’t know, honestly,” Jeno mumbles under his breath, his eyes roaming the table as if it will give him answers. “It felt so… intense, but not in the way my other dreams do. It felt like he was in my head, you know? Like I could feel his hands on me.” He shivers slightly at the thought, the phantom chill of the demon’s hands around his neck. Jeno blinks up at Renjun again, seeing his clearly disapproving expression and sighing inwardly at the sight. “I know, I know. But I have to do it. Not only is the watcher’s council expecting me to take him down, but if I can make the world a bit safer to live in then I have to try.”

Renjun’s expression softens, even if his lips stay pursed in disdain, but rather than speak more disapproving remarks, he instead reaches a hand out to rest over Jeno’s on the table. “Then I’ll be on standby if you need me, okay? Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

Jeno’s lips turn up just the slightest into a reassuring smile, and he affords Renjun a small nod before squeezing his hand, the brightness of the morning coming through the kitchen window to illuminate the rickety old table where their hands meet.

🩸

Jeno has agreed to meet with Jaemin at a bar that he knows doesn’t often frequent vampires, both to make sure Jaemin doesn’t think he suspects anything, and also because he doesn’t want to accidentally be recognized by a member of the fang gang. The bar is quite docile for a friday night, the lights dim and music only thrumming on the dance floor, but he looks around to see scattered sweaty bodies and couples grinding against each other to the point of it being incredibly indecent, and he knows Jaemin’s senses will be having a field day.

When he finds an empty set of stools at the very end of the bar, Jeno sits in one and sets his coat on the other to claim it. He purposefully came about fifteen minutes earlier than when they said they’d meet so as to be able to scope out potential exits and eliminate possible threats. Down the hallway where the bathrooms are has an exit to the back alley, then there’s the exit through the kitchen that leads to the dumpsters on the side of the building, and lastly the entrance of the bar that people steadily trickle in and out from. There’s not many escape options, but Jeno has mapped out a clear route to each one, and the press of his silver cross around his neck reminds him that he’s as prepared as he’ll ever be.

“Jeno?” A voice calls from beside him, causing him to turn and catch the sight of ink black hair that sits a bit messy atop the owner's head. His eyes are a faux brown color that Jeno knows is the work of contacts, and his skin is so pale he nearly reflects the light. “Ah, it is you,” he adds with a smile, grabbing Jeno’s coat from the stool before replacing it with his own body. “Am I late?”

Jeno looks down then to see what Jaemin is wearing, a billowing white shirt with the top few buttons undone to reveal a toned chest that’s tucked into black leather pants. He looks… good, obviously, even a fool would be silly to ignore as such. “No, no not at all,” he finally says with a smile, gesturing over to the bartender to come see them when he’s ready. “I was just early, I guess.”

Jaemin hums at this, his elbow coming up on the bar before he rests his chin on his hand, eyeing Jeno with a glint in his eye. “Eager to see me?”

His immediate reaction is to scoff, to shove off any flirty attempts by the demon, but Jeno knows that would only blow his cover, so instead he leans into it. Or rather, he leans into Jaemin, mirroring his position on the bar and slowly entering his space until his lips are ghosting the shell of his ear. Jeno can see the way Jaemin’s neck muscles tense at the proximity, and he can’t help but smirk slightly as he whispers, “more than you know.” It’s a comfortable half-truth, one not entirely dripping in deceit, because truthfully since his bad dream the night before, he’s more curious than ever to see what it is about this vampire that makes him so special. 

Jaemin clears his throat slightly when Jeno pulls back, and Jeno sees the smallest twitch in his top lip that signals him holding back on displaying his fangs. Apparently Jaemin likes his scent. 

“Well, considering we didn’t get to talk much when we first met, perhaps you could tell me more about yourself,” Jaemin prompts after having muttered to the bartender that they both wanted moscow mules, his with extra ice.

Jeno doesn’t remember telling him his favorite drink, and suddenly he gets mildly concerned that Jaemin can read his thoughts somehow. “What do you want to know?” He settles on asking, keeping his eyes locked on Jaemin’s just to show he’s interested. Jeno also notices that if he looks close enough he can see the smallest golden ring around Jaemin’s brown contact from his real eye color, and he becomes curious what Jaemin actually looks like. They “ran” into each other during a local fair, Jeno being planted there specifically to distract Jaemin and convince him to hangout alone. Jeno never really goes on dates, mostly just quickies when he feels he needs them, so he thought Doyoung was insane for suggesting this whole plan, but he found quickly that Jaemin makes it quite easy. The moment Jaemin laid eyes on him in that crowd, his brutal stare immediately focused into something... curious, hungry but not desperate, and Jeno can’t deny he was proud of the subtle praise. He knows he’s not the hardest on the eyes, just suffering from a few scars here and there, but Jaemin looks at him as if he is more than just a meal, but an entire feast of the most delectable sweets the vampire has ever seen.

“Oh you want me to do all the work then? Very well,” Jaemin hums, amused and displaying a grin with canines that are just the slightest bit too sharp without even being his actual fangs. “Why did you ask me out?”

Well, surely Jeno can’t say I ’ m planning on taking you home and killing you , so he opts for the next most truthful answer, his gaze raking over Jaemin’s frame as if to assess him. Jaemin’s chest is firm, his waist small and cinched with a belt, and his legs are long and lean. Jeno tries his best to appear as if he is truly and wholeheartedly checking Jaemin out, which isn’t hard to do considering the vampire is quite the sight unfortunately. “Because I wanted to do unspeakable things to you the moment I saw you.” Jeno flicks his gaze back up to meet Jaemin’s, the smallest smirk adorning his features to see the demon wide eyed and thoroughly impressed.

“You’re a bold one, aren’t you?” He replies with a grin, grabbing his drink from the counter and taking a sip of it, never breaking eye contact with Jeno over the rim of his glass. When he sets it back down he wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb, putting the small bit of flesh between his lips to lick off the little bits of sugar that fell off from the glass. Jeno swallows thickly at the sight, a bout of reality setting in as he realizes that is probably what Jaemin does when he’s finished feeding. “Am I wasting my time getting to know you then? Or should I just drag you out by the collar of your shirt and have my way with you?”

Jeno shivers slightly, trying to keep it together despite the confusing mixture of fear and anticipation swirling in his gut. He knows this is what he’s here to do, but he suddenly feels like it’s all moving too fast. Clearly Jaemin wants him, which was exactly the point, so why is he stalling now? Is it the effects of harsh reality, or the fact that Jeno can still feel Jaemin’s phantom touch around his neck? “I—I wouldn’t want to be dragged by my shirt, it’s new,” Jeno stammers pathetically, taking a quick gulp from his drink before setting it down with an awkward thud.

Jaemin chuckles, breathy and clearly obsessed with Jeno’s change in demeanor. “Mm, no you’re right, I quite like your shirt,” Jaemin says with a saccharine grin, hand reaching out to rest on Jeno’s shoulder, making him tense almost instantly. Jeno looks around them at the patrons in the bar, all oblivious and in their own worlds. No wonder people get nabbed by vamps so often. However, being nabbed by this vamp is Jeno’s sole purpose for inhabiting this boring bar on a Friday, so he sucks it up, takes a deep breath and centers himself once again. He’s a hot guy who’s never once not been able to perform, so if he needs to whore himself out to make the city safer, so be it.

Jeno clears his throat, eyes focusing in like daggers to meet Jaemin’s challenging stare. “Yeah?” He finally manages to reply, forcing himself to calm down and finish what he set out to do. He swallows thickly in his throat, acutely aware of how cold Jaemin feels even through the fabric of his silky button up, and tilts his head with a lazy smirk. “I think I look better without it, honestly.”

That seems to be all the encouragement Jaemin needs, and Jeno barely has enough time to drop some dollar bills on the counter before being pulled out of the bar by his hand, Jaemin leading him to a sleek back car that Jeno just knows is the fruit of literal blood money. Jeno forgets to be upset over it though, and lets himself be whisked away in a flurry as his mind tries to focus on how exactly he’s going to play this out. When does he stop? How far should he go? Is it best to get the guy with his pants down? Does Jeno even want to go that far? He hasn’t even kissed him for god's sake, but he’s undeniably hot, kissing him wouldn’t be a chore.

What the fuck are you saying, Jeno ?

When they pull up to an apartment building, Jaemin puts the car in park and leaves the key in the ignition before stepping out with a wink. Jeno clumsily follows after him, and sees Jaemin nod at a valet who switches places with him before coming to join at Jeno’s side.

“Come on, baby,” Jaemin purrs as he takes Jeno’s hand in his once again, leading him into a grandiose building with golden chandeliers and white marbled floors. Immediately Jeno notices that the windows are tinted from the inside, keeping sunlight out, which can only mean one thing. 

Jaemin lives in a vamp lair, but clearly for the kind of vamps that have some money. However, as much as he’d like to take in every little detail being presented to him to report back later, the second he’s being dragged into an elevator he feels his back being shoved into the cold metal walls.

“Jaemin—”

“No talking,” he interrupts with a sharp grin, his hands caging Jeno in on either side of his head, making him feel, for once in his life, utterly small. It should terrify him, being vulnerable to such a powerful vampire while walking right into his feeding den, but Jeno knows what he’s doing, and he also knows that the way his body is thrumming is from anything but fear. 

Jaemin leans into his space, his nose nudging along Jeno’s jaw and inhaling into his neck. Typically a first date sniffing you would be a major turn off, but Jeno knows that Jaemin is pinpointing his scent because he likes it, and Jeno shudders as his lips brush right over his pulse point.

“I can’t wait to devour you, pretty,” Jaemin mutters as he begins to place teasing kisses against his overheated skin, lips parting as if to allow his tongue to dart out when he’s stopped by the dinging of the elevator. Jaemin immediately pulls back, that same excited glint illuminating his eyes as he drags Jeno out of the claustrophobic box.

Jeno is ashamed to admit that as he’s being dragged he doesn’t notice the floor number or the code to get in the door or the type of flooring Jaemin has. He doesn’t notice the color of the drapes or the style of the couches or the comforting smell of cedar. Jeno doesn’t have the mind to pay attention to anything but Jaemin, and the way that Jaemin pushes him back onto his couch before crawling into his lap without hesitation. Jaemin doesn’t even give him a chance to protest or even fucking breathe before his mouth is on him, hungry and desperate as his hands tangle in Jeno’s hair. Jeno is so beyond the point of straying from the task at hand, but he doesn’t care, because he doesn’t even remember what he’s here for.

But what Jeno does notice through all of this? It’s that Jaemin isn’t gentle, and he’s really, really good with his mouth.

Despite his better judgement, or because of his lack thereof, Jeno kisses Jaemin back, allowing his hands to grip his waist and hold him close. Jaemin makes an appreciative noise in the back of his throat at the feeling, and glides his tongue against Jeno’s in thanks.

“How do you want this?” Jaemin asks in between teasing bites of Jeno’s bottom lip, smoothing over the sting with gentle licks that send primal jolts throughout Jeno’s body. Any sort of biting is entering dangerous territory here, and yet, it feels so good. 

Jeno considers the question for a moment, not quite sure he wants the demon to think he’s going to let him fuck him, even if they’re definitley not going to even get that far. One of Jeno’s hands slides up the expanse of Jaemin’s back until it’s threading through the vampire’s dark hair, and he grips the perfect strands just the slightest to allow him to catch his breath. “Wanna fuck you,” Jeno murmurs breathlessly, his voice far too gravely and affected from just a bit of kissing, and the words bring a furious blush to his cheeks. There’s no way he’s saying this to a stranger, to a strange, serial killer vampire. 

Jaemin’s mouth turns up in a sharp grin, eyes droopy as he looks down at Jeno while licking his lips. Jeno knows it’s predatory, but as with everything else about Jaemin, he also finds it hot. “Let’s take this to my room, then.”

Right, yes. His room. Jeno needs to get him vulnerable, undress him and find his weak spots, and then stake him in his own bed. That has been the plan all along, and Jeno tells himself that is still the plan as he reaches down and grips beneath Jaemin’s strong thighs, hoisting him up a bit higher before standing from the couch with ease while holding him in his arms. Jaemin hums in delight at Jeno’s show of strength, and Jeno can’t help but let his mind wander to if Jaemin will get to showcase his strength too.

Jeno carries Jaemin into the open room, Jaemin’s lips making busy work of bruising Jeno’s neck with limb melting scrapes of his teeth, Jeno’s knees turning into pure jelly by the time he’s dropping Jaemin onto the unkempt bed. Jaemin’s room is only illuminated by a dim lamp on the nightstand, the only sounds that of the city buzzing outside the window and the blood rushing through Jeno’s ears.

“You just gonna stand there? I mean, I could get off by myself but I think it’d be more fun if we did it together,” Jaemin says with a smirk, his sharp teeth glinting in the warmth like an intoxicating warning while his fingers begin making work of his shirt buttons. Jeno intakes a breath at the sight, a million things running through his head but none of them laying claim to his train of thought as he begins undoing the buttons on his own shirt, deftly opening the soft fabric before letting it fall off his shoulders.

Now, Jeno knows he’s not an ugly guy, but he also can’t help the way he nearly keens at Jaemin’s hungry gaze when he finally gets a glimpse of exposed skin. It momentarily distracts him, his skin buzzing from the silent praise when his hands come down to his belt. He freezes when his fingers brush against the fake pocket knife clipped to his belt loop, the one with a solid wooden blade to slay on the go. For a moment he hesitates, unsure of what to do with it, or if he should keep his jeans on, but he quickly rationalizes that if he can distract Jaemin enough then he should have no worries about acquiring a weapon later.

Yes, that seems reasonable.

Jeno finishes undoing his jeans, sliding them down his legs and kicking them off, leaving him in his briefs as he crawls onto the bed to finally hover above Jaemin. Jaemin's chest is on full display now, his skin like porcelain with only the slightest pink tint to hint that there was once life. His frame is lean, and his belt cinches his waist in such a way that makes Jeno just want to run his hands all over him, squeeze him and map out his every angle. Momentarily Jeno wonders if vampires have some sort of sexual power he hasn't been made aware of in his years as a slayer, but then remembers that as a high vampire, Jaemin's aura is naturally inviting, and he worries that perhaps he's in over his head.

"You're quite the sight," Jaemin murmurs as his hands immediately reach up to find a home on Jeno's muscular shoulders, sharp nails teasingly digging into the skin as he eyes the man before him. "And you have so many scars. You're not going around getting yourself into trouble, are you?"

Jeno's hands are planted on either side of Jaemin's frame in the mattress, muscles tensing with the effort of holding himself up. He glances down at his own skin at the question, seeing the various discolored lines from nails much like the ones that touch him now. "Only as much trouble as I can handle," he replies, slightly distracted as his eyes catch the glint of his silver cross dangling from his neck. Vampires are highly sensitive to silver, it burns their skin and is one of the only things that makes them feel unpleasant. Leaving it on means to risk exposing his game sooner than he intends, so he leans back on his knees to part from Jaemin beneath him.

Jeno reaches behind himself to unclasp his necklace, but Jaemin stops him with a hand on his arm. “Leave it. It’s pretty on you,” Jaemin hums as he drags Jeno down on top of him once again, paying no mind to the way Jeno resists. An inner monologue of fuck fuck fuck plays in Jeno's mind like the buzz of a fly, and his blood runs cold when Jaemins hand grips the back of his neck, the sound of something sizzling tickling his ears when his palm touches the silver. 

“Jaemin—”

“Shh, love,” he whispers against Jeno’s ear, licking the shell teasingly and making Jeno shiver, even with the heat of his burning flesh at his nape. “I know what you are, and you’re still going to fuck me."

Jeno freezes, his muscles turning to stone beneath his overheated skin as he's sure he dies then and there. Jaemin removes his hand from his neck, pushing Jeno back just enough to show his palm with a small smirk. The flesh is a horrible color, brown and black crusting over bright red blood, and Jeno feels a small flash of panic at seeing Jaemin wounded. He knows it's probably just his instincts, his need to fix and heal combined with the fact that he thinks he really was about to just sleep with a vampire, no matter how much he lied to himself, but he quickly shakes it off when said vampire calls his name once again.

"Didn't you hear me? I'm still going to let you fuck me, and if you're good I promise not to kill you," he hums teasingly as he closes his hand into a fist, hiding the slowly healing wound and forcing Jeno's gaze back to him. "I know you want to."

Does he want to? Jeno's brain has been tugged in a million different directions before he even met Jaemin, and split a million more after the fact. He isn't sure what he wants, and even if he were, he doesn't think it's okay to want. What they're doing is wrong, not just logically, but systematically. Jeno and Jaemin are pieces on a game board, Jeno the dutiful white night and Jaemin the king hiding in the shadows. This whole time Jeno has thought he was the one strategizing, but strategy means nothing if you're not even on the same page with yourself, and Jaemin still has all of his pawns on his half of the board. Jeno is in enemy territory, and all he can do is submit.

"Why?" He finally croaks out, his words practically failing him as he looks down at Jaemin, dumbstruck. "I was sent here to kill you, I have to kill you, so why let me do anything?"

Jaemin's non-wounded hand slowly reaches up so as not to scare Jeno to cup the human's cheek, his features holding mischief and curiosity over a layer of evident want. His thumb brushes over Jeno's bottom lip, making him shiver slightly in his hold as they stare into each other's eyes like floating daggers with nowhere else to go. "Because you're not going to kill me, not yet anyways. First we have fun, fulfill the obvious chemistry between us, and then if you still decide you want to kill me you can have one try. Though, I have to say I'm quite the enthusiastic partner, so I don't believe you'll have the energy to want to."

Jeno's brain short circuits, a million different things clouding his logic and feeding into his lesser needs. He's a professional, a cosmic weapon for good, but he's also a man, and men are weak creatures. In the silence, Jeno looks at Jaemin desperately, trying to find different answers where there are already slews of them that he wants nothing more than to ignore. If he does this, he's breaking a moral code, blaspheming his one purpose in life, and yet he can't deny that he wants to. Jeno wants what anybody wants, craves the taste of iniquitous pleasure where there should be none. Jaemin is a creature born from temptation, but Jeno is simply a willing participant, and that almost makes it worse.

" Fuck it ."

Jeno crashes back down onto Jaemin like a tidal wave, their lips moving at a bruising pace as they kiss like their mouths are coated with a potent drug. Jaemin's fangs are sharp against his bottom lip, but Jeno bites back in retaliation all the same, moaning embarrassingly at the taste of copper on his tongue.

Clothes are removed in a flurry, Jaemin's pants haphazardly unbuttoned and tugged down his legs. Jeno feels an infuriating sense of urgency, like if he doesn't feel Jaemin's skin against his own he'll die much sooner than by Jaemin's hand. It's irrational, insane, but nothing that they're doing is particularly lucid.

"Don't be shy, love, take it all off," Jaemin instructs into Jeno's mouth, even his breath cool when it brushes the saliva on Jeno's bottom lip.

Of course Jeno obeys, his brain having left him about ten swipes of Jaemin's tongue ago, and he crawls down Jaemin's body to slip his fingers into the waistband of his briefs. They easily slide off with a simple pull, and Jaemin's slender legs bend to accommodate Jeno's efforts until the fabric is being tossed to the floor.

When Jaemin is completely naked in front of him, Jeno finds himself unable to hold back when his hands wrap around Jaemin's thighs, squeezing the somehow pliant flesh between his warm fingers. Jaemin's arms fall back next to his head in the pillows, and when Jeno glances up at him, his breath gets caught in his throat at the sight.

Jaemin is beautiful, an elegant shell that encapsulates so much unnatural beauty. His body is strong but lithe, all long limbs and sharp edges that meet gentle curves. Aside from a freckle or a mole here or there, he's practically flawless, completely unreal, positively supernatural, and Jeno is enamored by it all.

"You're—" he pauses, words getting lost when his eyes meet Jaemin's once again. There's a magic in Jaemin's stare, something that goes beyond just the satisfaction of doing something bad, but something that silently speaks to Jeno in ways he can't understand.

"As are you," Jaemin murmurs in reply as if he can hear Jeno’s thoughts, one of his hands coming down to thread through Jeno's dark hair, tugging him back gently so his neck is on full display for Jaemin to see. "I really wish you'd let me bite you. I wouldn't take much, but I know you'd taste delicious."

Jeno swallows thickly around nothing, the comment making him shiver despite himself, and Jaemin smirks down at him in complete and utter power. "You can't bite me," Jeno is quick to say, even if he knows Jaemin can probably hear the sound of his blood thumping in his veins, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest.

"But?" Jaemin asks teasingly, trying to hold back the smile that wants so badly to form on his features. "I was sensing another thought in that sentence. Was I incorrect?"

No , Jeno thinks. Is he ever wrong? Has Jaemin always known Jeno's intentions from the beginning? A part of him believes that Jaemin has really been the one playing him this entire time, but ironically there's something comforting about that idea. When Jeno is always the one in control, always the one having to be ten steps ahead of everyone else, there's something freeing about knowing you were doomed from the beginning.

"If you happen to scratch me, you have my permission to drink whatever spills from my body on it's own." Even as he says them, the words seem impossible on his tongue, don't fit right in his mouth yet don't taste sour like he's expecting them to. How quickly Jeno's thoughts have strayed from the original path, and they're so far gone he has no energy to search for them.

Pleased by his answer, Jaemin hooks his ankle around Jeno's thigh, pulling him closer again with a sharp smile that's all glass and no warmth. “So kind of you to think I need your permission to drink from you, but I suppose sex is all about consent, hm?”

Somehow, by the grace of whatever higher power there is, Jeno laughs at Jaemin’s joke, a small chuckle escaping him that serves to quiet some of his nerves. Jaemin is charming, hot, and a murderer. 

Fuck.

Reality washes over him for a brief moment, his attention swaying like an incoming tide. Back and forth . He shouldn’t, but he wants to, but he doesn’t think he can, but he knows nobody is stopping him. The possibility of Jaemin killing him has always been present, so why should he care in which way that possibility is heightened? This was always a risk. Has he gone totally insane?

“I…” Jeno trails off, eyes focusing on Jaemin’s open legs right in front of him. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he mutters mostly to himself, dropping down between Jaemin’s thighs with a small huff. His chest is tight, his cheeks flushed and head spinning, but he knows he’s not going to stop.

Instead, Jeno’s hand reaches out to wrap around Jaemin’s waiting cock, all but ignoring the way Jaemin jumps slightly at the sudden contact. He’s less cold here, perhaps the blood he steals from others circulates in strange ways, allowing him to get hard the way he is in Jeno’s hold.

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” Jaemin teases, hoisting himself up onto his elbows to watch as Jeno’s tongue curiously pokes out to lick the head, swiping at the slit and trailing down to trace the still apparent vein. Vampire anatomy is an enigma, but the newness of it all just turns Jeno on more as he takes Jaemin into his mouth, wrapping his lips around his cock with ease and swirling his tongue around the tip. Jaemin tastes… normal, less musky than other guys he’s been with, but the feeling of skin on skin is comforting, and Jeno’s eyes flutter shut. “Fuck—” Jaemin bites out, a commanding hand threading in Jeno’s hair once again.

Jeno hums at the immediate reaction, letting his head bob lazily as he just feels . There’s something very gratifying about giving, especially when Jaemin is so happy to receive, and Jeno moans weakly in his throat as he uses his own saliva to pump what he isn’t able to reach with his mouth.

And Jaemin’s body reacts to it all, his toes curling into the mattress as his muscles tense with every flick of Jeno’s tongue. It’s just a simple blowjob, but somehow so much more, and Jeno finds himself grinding down into the mattress with every flick of his wrist.

“Impatient,” Jaemin teases, slightly breathless as he tugs on Jeno’s hair in a warning. “I suppose I’m a little impatient too, pet. Mind getting on with it?”

Jeno makes a small noise of complaint, bobbing his head a few more times just to savor the feeling before slipping off of Jaemin’s cock with a small slurping sound. Jaemin shivers at the loss of contact, but is already leaning over to reach into the nightstand, grabbing a bottle of lube and handing it directly to Jeno as he pulls himself up onto his knees.

“Do vamps even need lube?” Jeno asks with a slightly furrowed brow, looking down at Jaemin’s ever so slightly flushed chest. Jaemin however gives him a small glare, and Jeno holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, vampires.”

“What kind of question is that? Just because it doesn’t hurt and it heals fast doesn’t mean we want to expose ourselves to the torture of a torn—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Jeno grumbles, internally laughing at the way the question riled Jaemin up so easily. The vampire is always poised and regal and intimidating, but when it comes to sex he turns as demanding as ever.

Jeno pours some of the lube onto his fingers, not bothering to warm it up as he normally would, seeing as Jaemin won’t mind the difference in temperatures. After dropping the bottle back onto the bed, Jeno reaches down with his free hand to push Jaemin’s thighs open just a bit more, before bringing his fingers down to spread the sticky substance against Jaemin’s perfect rim.

Jaemin hums in pleasure as Jeno massages the ring of muscle, angling his hips to silently encourage Jeno to get on with it . Despite having only been around each other for a couple of hours, Jeno knows what he’s asking for, and watches in fascination as his middle finger slips in with ease.

Jeno’s breath catches in his throat at the sight, even as he begins to thrust in and out at a slow, curious pace. The sight of Jaemin sucking him in, the feeling of his muscles contracting and the slight warmth of his soft walls making him dizzy. Everything about Jaemin is an experience, intoxicating and new, and Jeno nearly shoves his hand into his own briefs when he slips a second finger in with the first, and Jaemin releases his first genuine moan of the evening.

“More, more , pet,” Jaemin commands, hips writhing against the sheets to try and get more friction from Jeno’s fingers.

“But I haven’t even—”

“I’m not human, Jeno. I won’t break.” The vampire huffs, hands fisting in the sheets as his muscles tense when Jeno crooks his fingers slightly while sliding them out as told. Jeno grabs the bottle of lube again, drizzling a bit more over where his fingers connect with Jaemin’s hole, before pressing in a third finger with a bit more resistance.

The sound is positively lewd, wet and obscene as Jeno’s fingers stretch and explore. Jaemin’s back arches at the stretch, finally seeming satisfied as his mouth hangs open in a silent cry. The sight is enough to have Jeno dripping precum into his briefs, and his curiosity comes back full force.

Jeno crooks his fingers once again, massaging Jaemin’s walls and going deeper and deeper in search for what he assumes Jaemin still has. Being half dead shouldn’t eliminate basic anatomy, and when Jeno’s fingers graze something firm, he gets his answer as Jaemin’s whole body siezes, his fangs cutting into his own bottom lip to suppress a whimper. “Jeno—yes, just like that,” he breathes out mindlessly, his head pressing back into the pillows as his legs spread wider on their own, inviting Jeno in and asking him to make himself at home.

Jeno has no issue with doing just that, dropping down once again to lap his tongue against the head of Jaemin’s cock, suckling the tip teasingly while fucking him open with his fingers. Jaemin’s useless breaths gasp and stutter in his chest, and pride swells in Jeno’s rib cage at the sight. He’s always been good in bed, but being good enough for Jaemin, a being unlike anything he’s ever seen, has him swimming in ripe satisfaction.

“Enough, pet. Enough.” Jaemin’s voice sounds from above him, causing him to slow his actions and let his fingers stay buried inside of the creature, the pads of his fingers rubbing lazily at his prostate. “I swear to lucifer, Jeno, if you don’t fuck me now I will suck you dry—and not in the fun way.”

Jeno pulls back from Jaemin’s cock with another small laugh from surprise, not used to hearing weakness or desperation from the demon in any way, but he can’t deny he likes it. Slowly bringing himself back up onto his knees, Jeno slips his fingers out with that same lewd squelch, and he doesn’t even have to think as he reaches down with his non lube covered hand to awkwardly shove his briefs down his thighs, coating his cock in the excess before pushing them all the way off and kicking them to the ground.

“You’re kind of funny, you know that?” Jeno asks teasingly despite the way his body is flushed head to toe, settling himself back between Jaemin’s thighs and gripping tightly onto his hips. Jaemin’s legs wrap around him like a snake that has captured it’s meal, and Jeno easily drapes himself over Jaemin’s body once again, hands planted on either side of the vampire's head. 

Jaemin snorts out a laugh in response, though it’s a bit half hearted and mostly impatient as he reaches down between them and grips onto Jeno’s cock without warning. Jeno gasps deep in his chest at the feeling, little jolts of pleasure making his muscles tense as Jaemin spreads the messy lube a bit more. “And you’re kind of hot, you know that?” He replies while lining Jeno’s cock up with his entrance, practically mewling in satisfaction when the head slips in with ease. 

Jeno groans through gritted teeth when Jaemin uses his legs to pull Jeno closer and closer, not giving either of them time to adjust as Jeno stretches him out. Just like with other things, Jaemin feels practically human, but Jeno knows he’s not, and that’s the part that has him huffing through his nose when he finally bottoms out. It’s wrong for him to be so turned on by it, but he is, and if that makes him sick then he might as well be sick and satisfied. 

“ Fuck —” Jaemin whines, literally whines when Jeno’s hips meet the backs of his thighs, and Jeno feels his fuzzy brain be plunged into pure instinct. He’s lost the assignment awhile ago, whether that be when he walked into the bar or let Jaemin kiss him on the couch or when he took his cock into his mouth, but accepting that defeat has made him forget everything else, forget how to be human, and he lets himself get lost in the tight heat of Jaemin’s hole. For the rest of his body being cold, the inside of him is not, and Jeno can’t help but wonder if that’s just the friction from his fingers, or maybe the few drops of blood Jaemin drew from his lips was enough to warm him, but whatever it is makes Jeno’s body sing. 

He starts thrusting at an even pace, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing off the wooden floors and fancy wallpaper. Jaemin’s fingers pull and tug in Jeno’s sweaty hair, and their bodies get entangled like a thorny briar. “You feel so good,” Jeno grunts, delirious, his head dropping into the crook of Jaemin’s neck to mouth at the juncture of where throat meets collarbone, and Jaemin makes a pleased sound at the feeling. "So fucking good."

From the beginning Jeno has known this situation was not going to end well one way or another. He was either going to die, or Jaemin was going to get away, or he was going to get himself found out. When he started letting Jaemin lure him in with slick words and greasy palms he was even more doomed, falling down the slippery slope of endless curiosity. Jaemin’s body beneath him is like a cosmic joke, but he feels so right, their skin a strange contrast of hot and cold, blending together to numb him from the inside out.

“Fuck me harder,” Jaemin grits out, the hand not bruising Jeno’s scalp reaching down to grip onto his ass, sharp nails digging into his skin and immediately drawing blood. Jeno hisses at the sting, but listens to the command nonetheless, grabbing Jaemin’s thighs to stretch them to their limits before fucking into Jaemin faster, rougher. “Yes, yes .” 

Praises fall from the vampire’s lips enthusiastically, and Jeno moans weakly when sharp nails begin digging into his lower back, scratching up to his shoulders and burning him like fire. Warm droplets of blood begin dripping down Jeno’s sides, and when he looks down between them he sees small streaks of the red already mixing with the sweat from his body. “Jaemin—” he breathes out in shock, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence when Jaemin tugs at his hair again, bringing them face to face and capturing Jeno’s quivering lips in a kiss. His back aches , his hips straining with the effort to fuck Jaemin how he likes. Everything is so much, so intense, and Jeno doesn’t think he’s ever felt so good in his entire life.

The high builds up steadily in his gut, Jaemin’s fangs nipping at his lips, his tongue exploring Jeno’s mouth and claiming it as his own. Jaemin is insatiable, hungry in every way and confusing every last nerve in Jeno’s body with the addicting mixture of pleasure and pain. Jeno doesn’t think he’s ever experienced anything like it, every taste of copper and slide of skin against skin from crimson pleasure ruining every sexual encounter he’s ever had, and effectively ruining any others he hopes to pursue in the future.

Actions have consequences, and Jeno has submit himself to the worst of them all.

“Jeno, please ,” Jaemin moans out against Jeno’s bruised and aching lips, sounding just as desperate as he feels. “Make me come, pet. I wanna come.” His voice is pitched, whiny, and it sends a shiver down Jeno’s spine that settles in his cock. Jaemin clenches around him, making Jeno have to force his muscles that much more. Despite the cool of Jaemin’s skin Jeno is overheating, a fire igniting from the blood on his skin and ripping him apart piece by piece.

Jeno squeezes Jaemin’s thighs, his body trembling as he fucks into him as if he were to die if he stopped. Their kiss has broken into nothing but desperate pants, Jaemin greedily licking the small drops of blood from Jeno’s cracked lips as he cries out into the otherwise stillness of the room, and Jeno feels the pressure in his gut become unbearable. “Come on my cock,” he murmurs senselessly, the taste of an orgasm on the tip of his tongue making him delirious. “I can f—feel it, feel you around me. Come for me.”

A high pitched whine erupts from Jaemin’s throat, his brutal hands ripping Jeno apart at the seams as his body arches off the bed. Jeno feels something sticky painting their stomachs as Jaemin tremors in his hold, and with a broken groan from his raw throat his own high comes crashing down on him in a rainfall of fire. Jeno comes in Jaemin with stuttering hips, his entire body shaking as his thrusts slow to blundering quakes, until he stills with a gasp for breath.

Neither of them move right away, Jeno’s chest heaving as he catches his breath even as Jaemin’s nails stay dug in his skin like splinters. Jeno winces when they start to sting all over again, but just as he’s about to ask Jaemin to let him go, the vampire disappears from beneath him, and strong hands are shoving him down face first into the mattress without a single warning.

Jaemin hasn’t displayed his vampire abilities to Jeno this entire time, but Jeno feels his inhuman strength in the way he pins Jeno to the mattress like a wolf with his catch between his teeth. There’s a sharp burn as Jaemin’s tongue comes out to lick at the fresh wounds, soft moans and sighs of pleasure sounding from above him as the vampire takes what he was promised. Jeno’s hands fist into the sheets at the feeling, and despite the sting, a soft whimper escapes his own lips at that same dizzying blend of pain and rapture.

He isn’t sure how long they stay like that, doesn’t remember when he passes out or when he comes to, but when he blinks his eyes open and he’s surrounded by a dark, empty room, Jeno doesn’t waste time haphazardly throwing his clothes on. His entire body hurts, but he’s been through worse, and without even bothering to check if Jaemin happens to be lurking in a dark corner, he practically sprints out of Jaemin’s apartment as if the vampire were merely a few feet behind following him home.

🩸

Jeno swears never to talk to him again, but Jaemin doesn’t make it very easy for him when he keeps showing up during Jeno’s patrols.

“Go away , Jaemin,” he bites out as he rounds the corner of an angel statue, hearing the crunch of the demon’s footsteps before feeling his presence right beside him. Having him nearby when his back still itches with healing scratches and his neck still aches with fading marks forces a shiver up his spine despite himself, but he lies to his own conscience and blames it on the wind.

“Excuse me, but you are in my territory, you know. Is it my fault you hang out in graveyards at night?” Jaemin shoots back sarcastically, his features turned up in an amused smirk.

Jeno however is not feeling very playful, and can’t help but roll his eyes in response. “First of all, your territory is a mile away, this is baby vamp territory. Second of all, you live in a luxury apartment, you shouldn’t be spending your evenings in graveyards either. And third of all, it quite literally is your fault I am out here. I am the slayer, you’re the cause of all the problems I’m meant to slay, so go the fuck away before I decide I want to slay you too.”

Jaemin lets out an annoying chuckle at Jeno’s bitterness, but shows no signs of being phased as he walks beside him over the dying grass. However, when Jeno makes a point to try and step away, Jaemin grips onto his bicep and yanks him back, making him thud against Jaemin’s chest with a small oof . Jaemin leans down into Jeno’s ear, nipping the soft cartilage as his grip turns bruising on Jeno’s arm. “If your intention was to kill me with a mind blowing orgasm, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to try harder. My stamina is unparalleled.” His words drip with poisonous honey, and against his will Jeno finds himself tilting his neck to allow Jaemin more room. “There you go, pet.”

The praise has Jeno melting in his hold, sagging against him as if his words are laced with something toxic and sweet. “N— ah —not your pet,” he huffs as he feels Jaemin’s lips brush against his jaw, taking the easy access that Jeno is providing in kind. “Leave me alone .” Jeno’s teeth are gritting from self restraint, but physically it’s useless, especially in the presence of a creature that can smell how badly he actually wants this. 

“Oh, baby,” Jaemin coos with an obvious air of condescension, making Jeno’s skin crawl in more ways than one. “Is that what you really want? Because your body tells an entirely different story.” As he speaks, Jaemin’s hand that isn’t holding Jeno steady trails down to brush past his hip, graceful fingers reaching the metal of his belt buckle before skimming the front of his jeans. Jeno’s breath catches in his throat when even through the layers of his clothing he feels the cold press of Jaemin’s palm against his already hardening cock. It’s truly embarrassing how easily the vampire riles him up, but Jeno chooses to blame it on magic or pheromones or some other force beyond his control besides his undeniable attraction.

“You’re a killer, I don’t want anything from you,” he replies with a shaky voice, trying to keep his resolve and failing miserably. Jaemin has invaded his space, which has resulted in the invasion of his mind, and subsequently the invasion of his autonomy when Jeno’s hands reach out to fist into the front of Jaemin’s shirt. He can’t tell if he’s pulling him closer or trying to keep him away, but he supposed those lines are quite blurred. 

“A killer?” Jaemin muses as he brushes his fingertips along the length of Jeno’s cock through his jeans, teasing the tip to earn a soft muffled groan from the human in his grasp. “I haven’t killed in weeks, and the times that I have before then were out of necessity, or were a casualty of something entirely different. I’m not ashamed of loss, but I’m not proud, and I’m not a killer. I’m a master.” Jaemin pulls back from Jeno’s neck to meet his hooded gaze, reveling in the way Jeno’s cheeks are flushed from his simple touches. “And now that I have you to devour, why would I want anything else?”

Jeno whimpers in the back of his throat at the way Jaemin breaks down his defenses without even trying, his legs feeling wobbly and his cock aching in his jeans. He drops his head onto Jaemin’s shoulder in defeat, his clawing hands making their way up to wrap around Jaemin’s neck. “I can’t,” he breathes out, head tilting just the slightest to breathe Jaemin’s sharp scent of cologne and fresh earth. “Please.”

Jaemin holds Jeno carefully, like he’s a precious package that needs to be delivered safely. His hand comes away from Jeno’s cock to grip onto his hip, and his other hand cards through Jeno’s hair with a hum. “You were so good to me last time, pet. Let me be good to you. Let me show you how much I want you.” 

Jeno inhales weakly, his skin simultaneously feeling numb and on fire. Deep down he knows if he rejects Jaemin that Jaemin truly will leave. Somehow forcing himself upon people doesn't seem like Jaemin’s style, even if he is insistent in his own right, and this is what keeps Jeno’s mouth shut as he nods his head, signing away his fate to the devil that tempts him. 

Another flurry of clothes thrown to the floor without care, a cascade of gasps and teasing remarks that leave Jeno far more exposed than his nudity. This time Jaemin is less insistent, and this time it’s Jeno who is covered by the vampire's body while on his hands and knees.

Jeno’s back arches into the firm chest above him, his hands gripping tightly into the pillows as he moans desperately into the otherwise quiet room. Jaemin’s cock inside of him is unlike anything he’s ever felt before, and it’s just another new sensation that Jeno knows he’ll compare everything else to for the rest of his life. Jaemin’s strength makes even his gentleness brutal, and Jeno feels the way his fingers bruise his hips, cries out at the sting of his fangs dragging just a little too deep along his shoulder. Jaemin never sinks his teeth in all the way, but he always draws blood, always has Jeno writhing in sick euphoria and begging for more. He doesn’t know when it begins or ends, doesn’t know anything beyond the flames licking his skin and the tightness in his gut that becomes unbearable until there are millions of stars floating in his mind’s eye. 

It’s perfect, earth shattering, heart breaking, and Jeno is fucking addicted.

He’s addicted to the secrecy, to the mind numbing pleasure that he always receives, but most of all? He’s addicted to the vampire that feeds him from the palm of his hand like a wounded bird, and Jeno has never felt more damaged.

Despite the way his limbs ache when it’s all over, Jeno refuses to fall asleep this time. Instead, he pushes Jaemin off of him once they’ve both calmed down, ignoring the way his body shivers at the feeling of cum dripping down his thighs when he stands from the bed. He knows he’s not going to be able to walk tomorrow, but he doesn’t think he really cares. 

“Don’t forget to eat, love. I don’t want you passing out in the street for another creature to play with,” Jaemin says with a small grin, watching Jeno throw his clothes on with an appreciative stare from the comfort of his bed, his body completely exposed. Jeno knows there’s a stake in his coat lining, and a part of him wants to dust that stupid smile from his face. 

But he knows he won’t, knows deep down that he can’t, and that’s precisely why he doesn’t look back while waltzing out of Jaemin’s apartment for the second time of many, even if his lips ache from unfinished business. 

And this goes on for weeks. Jaemin calls, Jeno comes (pun intended), and even though everything in Jeno tells him that this is wrong, he can’t for the life of him stop. Jaemin is a drug, and Jeno craves him no less than the vamp craves him for his blood.

He’s just waiting for the high to crash.

🩸

“Dude, you look like shit,” Renjun comments at the library table, Jisung looking up from his book with a shocked expression as he does.

“Hyung, that’s not nice,” he mumbles softly, though when Jeno turns to meet the younger’s gaze he can see the concern on his features too. Admittedly, Jeno is also a bit concerned. He doesn’t sleep much when he stays at Jaemin’s, which he’s been doing a lot recently. He never intends to stay, but Jaemin takes so much out of him in every way; mentally, physically, emotionally. Even though Jaemin doesn’t bite him, Jeno’s thighs and upper arms are riddled with small scabs from Jaemin’s sharp nails. Jaemin also seems to never have a refractory period, and will wake Jeno up as many times as he can to get what he wants from him. Sometimes they don’t even fuck more than once, or come at all more than once. Sometimes Jaemin just wakes him up to kiss until Jeno’s lips are numb, and talks to him about anything and everything. Still, Jeno is always walking around in a turtleneck or a hoodie to conceal his damages, and he’s becoming increasingly grateful for the fall weather, even if it is to hide whatever it is he has going on with Jaemin.

Somehow, Jaemin has become a companion, and that is something Jeno fears much more than the sex.

“Hello, earth to Jeno?” Renjun comments again, waving a hand in his face as if he were dormant. “Seriously, what’s wrong? Is Doyoung overworking you? You know we can cover patrols if you need a break—”

The sounds of the library doors clicking shut pulls their attention to the front of the room, seeing Doyoung striding across the fancy looking tiles towards the group of guys. “Who’s overworking who now?” Doyoung asks with a raised brow, setting the books in his arms down onto the table to join the rest of the stack. 

“Hey now, don’t be offended over me being concerned,” Renjun grumbles as he leans back in his seat, arms crossing against his chest with a huff. “Look at him, he’s deteriorating. I haven’t seen him look this bad since those vamps got Donghyuck—”

“Hyung!” Jisung yells out, his features taught in disbelief.

Renjun slumps slightly, looking from Jisung to Jeno whose gaze is downcast. Jeno’s picking at his thumbs nervously, and Renjun feels a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Jeno swallows around nothing, shaking his head dismissively. “Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles before looking in Doyoung’s direction, never actually looking at him. “Did you need something?”

A silence stretches in the room, the high ceilings and warm wooden fixtures seemingly ice cold. Doyoung stands up straight, smoothing out his tweed vest with a nod. “Yes. The watcher’s council needed to speak with you. They’re on a conference call in my office.”

Jeno’s stomach drops at the statement, but he likes to think he does a good job at hiding it as he stands immediately, trying to appear casual despite his bones filling with dread. “Thanks,” he says softly while disappearing behind the circulation counter, closing himself in Doyoung’s office with an ominous click. 

On the desk his office phone is blinking red on line 1, and Jeno only allows himself time to intake a shaky breath before he’s grabbing the phone, holding it up to his ear and hoping that it somehow explodes.  

It does not, and when he’s greeted with silence on the other end, Jeno clears his throat awkwardly. “Hello?”There’s a bit of static on the line, but then the buzz of a connected call hums in his ear, and he knows it has unfortunately been true.

“Mr. Lee,” someone starts, a woman with a posh British accent. “We’ve been waiting for updates from Mr. Kim regarding the vampire nest and Jaemin Na. He says that you have been on top of it, but Jaemin Na still walks, is that true?”

Jeno had been expecting for the conversation to be about this, but he was also hoping for a hello or how are you as a buffer. Then again, watcher’s are never gentle in their actions. “I suppose,” Jeno replies noncommittally, his cheeks flushing red as his mind wanders to what he’s actually doing with Jaemin. 

“Well, we need you to do a bit more than suppose , Mr. Lee.” This time a man speaks, his accent a bit less sharp but still just as annoying. “We have reports of more killings in your area. Killings that don’t even result in fledglings. They’re pure violence, and we know Jaemin Na is responsible.”

Something in Jeno stirs at the accusation, his instincts fighting over whether he should be defending Jaemin or incredibly fucking unsurprised. “What?” He says instead, his features pinching even if the council can't see him. “We haven’t seen any evidence of Jaemin’s nest being active in weeks.” Not since I started sleeping with him. “I don’t understand.”

There’s a huff that Jeno thinks is meant to be an annoyed laugh on the other end, and Jeno’s hand curls into a tight fist at his side. “Then you are not paying attention. We have visual reports of Jaemin Na killing with his bare hands, and you were supposed to stop him, so those lives are on you.” It’s like a punch to the face, and Jeno recoils at the harsh words. “You are going to kill Jaemin Na by the end of the month, or we are going to have someone else do it. Understand?”

Jeno doesn’t know what to think, doesn’t know how he let himself be so blind. Jaemin lied to him, of course Jaemin lied to him. He’s a vampire , vampires lie and cheat and steal and kill. He’s nothing but a monster, and Jeno has let him be just another thing to be used. “Okay,” he grits out, his blood running too hot beneath his skin. “I understand.”

“Good, I’m glad we see eye to eye.” The woman’s posh voice sounds far too arrogant, and Jeno wishes they were meeting face to face so he could smack it off of her. “Good luck, Mr. Lee. Don’t disappoint me.”

When the council hangs up Jeno sets the phone down clumsily in the receiver before dropping into Doyoung’s desk chair, his legs failing him as his mind reels. He should have known, should have been smarter, should have tried harder. Jeno’s hands thread in his own hair, his elbows resting on his knees as he holds his head in defeat. 

He has to kill Jaemin, no matter how badly the mere thought makes his chest hurt and his hands tremble. He’s the chosen one, and there are things out of his control. Jaemin’s a killer, a blight on the earth, a demon, and Jeno is going to stop him.

Or die trying. 

🩸

Jeno goes on patrol that night alone, needing to clear his head of all the warring thoughts, but the silence just seems to leave room for even more. He knows he’s unfocused, and being out in the open just leaves him vulnerable to whoever may be waiting to come out and bite him.

After a few moments of mindless wandering, Jeno decides to slip into a mausoleum for a break, shutting the iron gate about halfway before slinking further into the stone room.

The mausoleum is dark, the sound of water dripping somewhere giving it a bit of a damp atmosphere, but that’s hardly what Jeno is worried about.

As he blinks his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, Jeno nearly collapses when he realizes he’s not alone, and in front of him stands the most beautiful man he has ever seen, hair as black as a moonless sea and eyes just as ruthless. His skin is free from imperfections, his movements sure and graceful, and Jeno knows it is the walk of a predator approaching him.

When has Jeno turned into such easy prey? He doesn’t know. But what he does know is that his resolve is weak, and as the man inches closer, it becomes more obvious he isn’t a man at all, and Jeno has long since learned to not care.

“Jaemin? What—what are you doing here?” He asks while using his stake to point in Jaemin’s direction, hoping it keeps the vampire from coming any closer. But of course it doesn’t work. “Don’t!” Jeno shouts, hand trembling even as he continues to hold the stake. “Don’t fucking touch me. I know what you’ve been doing.”

Jaemin’s brow raises in question, an offended yet amused expression adorning his beautiful face. “Do you? And what exactly have I been doing?”

Insufferable, stupid vampire.

Jeno huffs in frustration, dropping his hand when he accepts that the stake does nothing to deter Jaemin, not when he’s pretty much proven himself to be harmless to the vampire. “Stop treating me like I’m stupid. They saw you, Jaemin. They saw you kill someone, and I was so fucking naive to believe that you wouldn’t.” There’s a slight crack in Jeno’s voice as he speaks, and he internally smacks himself for being so weak and emotional over a creature that doesn’t even harbor a soul. When did he become so enamoured by the vampire? Has he always been? “I can’t keep ignoring my responsibilities because you—because you make me feel good, okay? I have a job, and I intend to finish it.”

Jaemin’s features finally fall at that, but not in anger, in understanding that glosses over a hidden layer of hurt. “I have not lied to you, Jeno. I don’t kill people. I told you as such and I am a vampire of my word. If people claim to have seen me killing it is because I was taking down the nest of vampires that your precious watcher’s council has been ignorant of in favor of killing me,” he bites out, a hint of frustration lacing his words. “I have even stopped turning people for you, Jeno. I do not sleep with others, I do not spill blood unless it is to feed and I always leave them alive. What we have—”

“We have nothing,” Jeno is quick to interrupt, his fingers aching with how hard he holds his stake, but Jaemin chooses to ignore him.

“What we have keeps me satiated most of the time. Drinking from you, even just small tastes… It is unlike anything else I have ever experienced. You are my mate, Jeno. Human or not, you are mine, and I intend to prove it if you’d let me.”

Jeno’s mind reels, his legs trembling beneath him as Jaemin’s words go in one ear and suffocate his brain. Mate . It means something to vampires. They have bite patterns, rituals, things that signify a bond beyond just physical or even romantic. A vampire’s mate is almost a spiritual connection, and they’ll often drink from each other after sharing a meal in some sort of sexual act. And Jaemin believes they share this bond?

“You’re fucking insane,” Jeno breathes out, even if his skin is tingling from head to toe at the prospect that Jaemin wants to bite him for reasons other than as food, and the image takes up every last inch of Jeno’s mind. “This is insane.”

And it is, even if it feels good, even if Jeno wants it. He’s a slayer, Jaemin’s a vampire. They’re not meant to be mates. Jeno doesn’t want to be a vampire, doesn’t want to lose his soul, even if he is becoming increasingly unsure if Jaemin even lacks one. 

“Just let me have you, Jeno,” the man says softly, his voice smooth as silk that wraps around Jeno’s neck like a noose. “I have chosen you, marked you as my own for others to smell within a mile radius of you, and now all you have to do is let me claim you.”

The words send a shiver down Jeno’s spine, and though everything in his mind is telling him to resist, his body is frozen in anticipation, allowing the man to stalk closer.

“Jaemin—” Jeno breathes out, cutting himself off at the sound of his own unstable voice. His hands curl and uncurl into nervous fists at his sides, and he barely realizes it when those fists are taken into the cool grasp of Jaemin’s fingers, sending his stake clattering to the stone floor. “Please. We can’t. I can’t—”

“Shhh,” Jaemin hushes gently, coaxing Jeno to open his hands and join them together with his own. Jaemin is cold to the touch, but Jeno is beyond used to it, and finds comfort in the contrast to his own burning skin. “I love you, Jeno. Just let me take you home and we can discuss this better.”

The words sting like the edge of a dagger, and if he weren’t being held by Jaemin he’d have toppled over at the sound. Everything melts away around them, and all he sees is dark hair and pale skin inching closer to him. His breath catches in his throat, and before he can part his lips to protest again, they are captured in a hungry kiss, stealing his resolve along with any sanity that had remained.

Jaemin wants him, and has proven he’ll do anything to have him, and Jeno begins to wonder if he feels the same too. 

🩸

Coming into Jaemin’s apartment is familiar, but this time also incredibly different. 

They don’t immediately go to Jaemin’s room, and Jaemin gives him a glass of water that Jeno refuses at first, but the vampire is insistent, and Jeno gulps down half of it before being led to the all too familiar bedroom.

The wooden floors and messy bed feel unreal as he pads across the floor on socked feet, and panic grips Jeno’s throat all at once.

“Jaemin, we can’t,” he pleads as he spins around to meet Jaemin standing only a foot away from him. “My job, my—my life , it doesn’t make this possible.” The words hurt to say, hurt worse than any scrape or bruise or bite the creature has inflicted on him, because this time they are not soothed by the promise of pleasure. Jeno’s hand touches the lining of his coat, feeling the imprint of his stake there, and he swallows thickly as he slips his hand into the pocket to grab hold of it. 

“What are you doing, love?” Jaemin questions, but he knows all too well, can smell Jeno’s fear, his pain, his inner conflict. Jeno thinks he should be trying to stop him, reaching for Jeno’s wrist and snapping it in his hold. Instead Jaemin just steps closer, his hand coming up to gently brush Jeno’s cheek. “Can I not convince you to love me back?”

If Jeno thinks his heart's already broken, he is sorely mistaken, because those fractured pieces shatter into dust at Jaemin’s sincere expression. Tears well in his eyes, burning him just like Jaemin’s touch as he pulls the stake from his coat, holding it in his weak palm. “Jaemin, please—”

“It’s okay, Jeno,” Jaemin says in his warm, soothing voice, dripping down Jeno’s throat like hot wax. “If this is what you feel you must do, then I will help. Don’t you understand, my love? I will do anything to please you, because I am yours.” As he talks he begins unbuttoning his loose silk shirt, letting the fabric hang limply on his frame before holding his hand out to Jeno. Jeno looks from the stake in his own hand to Jaemin’s outstretched palm, and the tears pooling in his eyes spill over in a soft rainfall of torture. When Jeno doesn’t give the stake to Jaemin, Jaemin places his hand over it, bringing it up to his chest with Jeno’s hand still held tightly around it. Their hands tremble, Jeno’s eyes looking into Jaemin’s golden ones so intensely that Jaemin feels as if it’s making his still heart beat. “If I can not have you I am already dust, so finish what you came here to do, Jeno. Kill me.”

Jeno’s knuckles turn white with how hard he holds the stake, the tip pressing into Jaemin’s unmarked skin and quivering at the surface. The wood splinters into his fingers, giving away under the pressure just like the cage around his heart, and when Jaemin begins to pull the stake towards him, Jeno immediately tugs it away.

“No,” he chokes out, tossing the stake aside before throwing himself into Jaemin’s arms, which are already open and waiting for him. “I can’t, Jaemin. I love you. I can’t.”

Jaemin embraces him as if he were welcoming home something lost, combs through his hair and keeps him up right to try and calm the uneven ricketing of his chest. Jeno is breathing, but only barely, and Jaemin carefully steps them over to the bed where they collapse in a heap of limbs and damp tears. Jeno’s gasps turn to cries, and his cries turn to sobs, and Jaemin just holds him through it all.

The lovely thing about immortality is that Jaemin wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than absorbing every last drop of sorrow from Jeno’s body into his own skin, because an eternity isn’t nearly enough time when it’s the man you love. 

🩸

“Gross,” Renjun grimaces as he tugs Jeno’s hood to get a better view, slumping back in his seat with a look of disgust. “You sure it’s not infected? It looks so… squishy.”

This time it’s Jeno’s turn to frown as he shoves Renjun’s hand off of him, moving to the far end of their shared booth. “It’s not infected, he bit me. Of course it’s going to look squishy.”

“What looks squishy?” 

Both of their heads whip around to see a figure approaching their table, dressed in black head to toe with a mop of black hair to match. Jeno smiles upon seeing him, and the vampire smiles right back, golden eyes glinting in the warm light. “Did you order drinks already?” Jaemin asks as he leans down to kiss Jeno’s cheek before sliding into the booth across from the two humans, ignoring Renjun’s exaggerated gagging noises next to his mate.

“No, no we only just got here. Where’s…”

“On his way, said he got caught up. Something about a fledgling and an alley cat.”

Renjun gags again. “Okay, double gross.”

Jeno and Jaemin share a laugh, and Jeno nudges Renjun with his shoulder teasingly. “If you’re just going to insult vampires for being vampires then maybe you shouldn’t be meeting Donghyuck.”

As if zapped by a taser Renjun immediately sits up, eyes blowing wide as he smacks at Jeno’s arm. “Don’t even say that! In fact, why are you saying that, you’re a slayer!” 

“Renjun!” Jeno yelps, holding his hand out to cover Renjun’s mouth as he looks around at the people sitting at their tables, relaxing only when he notices none of them are paying them any mind. “We’re in a vamp-friendly restaurant, you can’t just go around saying that out loud.”

Renjun swats Jeno’s hand away like a kid, shooting him the sharpest glare he can muster. “It’s not my fault you decided to bone your natural enemy,” he grumbles, ignoring the way Jaemin chuckles in his seat at the display, until the sound peter’s out in his chest.

Jaemin’s eyes catch movement from the door behind the humans, his expression softening as he watches someone coming closer and closer. He scoots over to allow the man room, and Renjun finally looks up to see him sliding into the booth next to Jaemin, eyes gold and hair honey brown.

“I could hear you guys bickering from the parking lot, I guess some things never change,” he hums as he slips his coat off, leaning over to gently brush Jaemin’s nape in a friendly greeting before looking over at Jeno and Renjun with a smile. “What’d I miss?”

Jeno smiles at Donghyuck, but his attention quickly turns to Renjun, watching as his mouth hangs open in silent shock. After having talked to Jaemin about Donghyuck, the vampire tracked him down and had him join his nest, and Jeno’s been slowly introducing bits and pieces of Jaemin’s life to his human friends, waiting for this very moment to manifest properly. Renjun’s cheeks are turning pink from whatever emotions are swimming in his brain, and before any of them can speak again, he’s tumbling out of his booth and throwing his arms around Donghyuck on the other side in a hug. 

Donghyuck laughs his bright laugh, tugging Renjun closer until he’s practically in his lap, and Jeno turns his gaze back to Jaemin with a grin. 

Jaemin mouths a silent I love you across the table, and Jeno feels the mark on his neck throb in appreciation. 

“Well now that you’ve been reunited, perhaps we can convince Jisung to introduce himself to Chenle. The poor fledgling is bored out of his mind and I have no idea how to play video games,” Jaemin remarks with a small chuckle, scooting up against the wall so that Renjun can squeeze into the booth next to Donghyuck, even if it is uncomfortable.

“Jisung?” Donghyuck asks suddenly, his eyes sparkling with unrelenting joy. “When can I see him?” The table is silent for a moment, Renjun and Jaemin looking to Jeno to have that answer. He’s been the bridge between all of these experiences, and he knows that nobody else knows how to go about it but him. This is his life, and it’s beyond complicated, but seeing his friends smile sometimes makes it really, really simple. 

“Soon,” Jeno answers with a decisive nod, his cheeks aching from his own smile. “Soon.”

There are a lot of things about life that are worth being happy over, a lot of things that make nightmares and broken bones and hard times worth waking up every morning to experience something good. 

For Jeno, those things come in packages shaped like the people he loves, and how lovely is it to have a joy that will live forever?