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Attend a supernatural mixer, Seokjin said. It’ll be so much fun, Seokjin said.
Jimin stares in abject horror as the person sitting across him grins and tries to wink, all while oblivious to the fact that their actual eyeball is floating in their tequila glass.
“Hyung,” Jimin whispers through grit teeth, eyes still fixed on his… companion (at least for the moment). He slaps a stiff hand down on Hoseok’s thigh. “Hyung.”
Hoseok startles a little, gaze darting towards Jimin once and twice before he giggles out something apologetic to the gargoyle sitting opposite him and turns to Jimin. “Yes, Jimin-ah?” He asks, looking like a picture of patience, ready to troubleshoot any problems Jimin might have.
Lucky for him, Jimin just has two problems right now, and one is swimming in alcohol while the other is still flapping open and closed and Jimin thinks he might barf. “Hyung. This man is winking their empty fucking eye socket at me. Hyung.”
“First time someone’s shown hole at you, huh?” Hoseok asks sympathetically. Almost conspiratorially, he leans forward to address Jimin’s date. “Sorry, sweetie. This one —“ he tilts his head in Jimin’s direction and clicks his tongue “— is an exclusive bottom.”
“Hoseok-hyung,” Jimin says, scandalised, “why would you — oh.”
He watches as the cryptid stops winking, sighs, and plops their wet, tequila-drenched eyeball back into their head. “Should’ve said so earlier,” they mutter as they leave, hurrying away so fast Jimin thinks their head is going to fall off at the visible seam. Or maybe it actually does. He doesn’t turn to watch them go.
Jimin just sits in silence for a moment after that. He tries for a second or two to wrap his head around everything that’s just happened, before deciding maybe he wasn’t meant to understand something like this.
Seokjin-hyung is a liar and a crook, he thinks sullenly. Tricking the two of them into spending money on this stupid event when Jimin was promised attractive, quality potential matches. And their cocktails aren’t even that good.
Though — he sneaks a glance over at Hoseok — it seems like he’s the only one not having fun.
His hyung is still making lovey-dovey eyes at this gargoyle and talking all low and flirty and it’s sickening. But Jimin is trying to behave, so he doesn’t interrupt again, just watches them exchange numbers before the gargoyle bids him a good night and flies off with a flap flap flap of the tiny wings that somehow actually support his weight.
“He’s so adorable,” Hoseok sighs dreamily. “He’s stationed right outside Chang’e Library, you know. Scaring away all the troublemakers and horny couples.”
Jimin wrinkles his nose. “…Are there a lot of horny couples that go there?”
“It’s mostly the succubi. Yoongi says he’s seen a few dokkaebi here and there.” Hoseok gives him a look. “You wouldn’t know because you don’t study.”
“That’s not true,” Jimin says, indignant. “I just don’t go to the library, and I think that’s perfectly normal, and it’s working well for me, considering I don’t have to deal with troublemakers and horny couples.”
“It also means all you do is stay in your room all day,” Hoseok chides.
“I’m outside now, aren’t I?” Jimin picks up his mojito and stirs it, admittedly rougher than he needs to. “I’m even paying to be here.”
“Yes, yes, good job, Jimin-ah,” Hoseok says, placating, like he’s agreeing with a babbling baby. “Seokjin-hyung and I are very proud of you.”
Jimin bristles at the mention of him. He stirs harder. Plastic clinks louder against glass. “I don’t care if he’s proud of me. I never want to speak to that liar again.”
“Liar?” Hoseok’s giggling into his drink like he doesn’t believe Jimin. “What’d he do to you?”
“I am a victim of Kim Seokjin’s false advertising,” Jimin says hotly, “and I will never forgive him. Not for as long as he’s going to live, which is — which is forever.”
Hoseok lets out a sigh. “Lighten up, brat.”
“Oh my gods, I just want someone to go home with. Where are all the hot monsters?” Jimin grouses, before screeching when Hoseok smacks him hard. “That hurt!”
“Good, it was supposed to.” Hoseok hmphs. “You can’t expect all monsters to be vampires and werewolves, Jimin. You’ve got to have an open mind at these types of events.”
“I swear I’m trying,” Jimin whines, “but everyone who comes up to me is just gross!”
“Stop pouting. You’re being a baby.”
“The girl before this one tried announcing how my parents would die to the entire bar!”
Hoseok psshes. “You know banshees. Poor things can’t help it.”
“The guy before her literally wouldn’t stop secreting slime the entire time we talked!”
Hoseok sighs. “That probably means he likes you! And a little extra lubrication never hurt anyone.”
“The guy before him said he bet I had “really pretty feet” and very, very heavily implied he wanted to eat whipped cream off them!”
“Oh, that’s just Taehyung,” Hoseok says. “He’s really fine when you get to know him, promise.” He tuts at Jimin. “And you shouldn’t kinkshame.”
“I wanna go home,” Jimin whines as he shakes Hoseok’s arm, but stops short when a tall figure comes into his peripheral vision.
“Is this seat taken?”
Jimin feels as if a witch has just cast a Voiceless spell on him. He thinks his mouth might be hanging open, but how is he expected to maintain any semblance of nonchalance when the man that’s staring down at him looks like he’s just stepped out of Vampyr Weekly?
Piercings are the first thing he registers – there’s silver in his eyebrows, small black hoops and studs in his ears, and to top it all off, a thin ring fitted to the curve of his bottom lip. Then it’s his eyes, a molten shade of lavender. Then it’s his size, because this guy is big.
And he has tattoos too, Jimin thinks mournfully. He doesn’t think he’s seen a vampire with tattoos before, and this person is making him wonder why that’s so, because it’s just so pretty. The colours stand out beautifully against his pallid, lifeless skin. Jimin wants to touch.
He has to crane his head up to make eye contact. Gods, he’s big.
Jimin can hear the eye-roll in Hoseok’s voice. “No, it’s not, and neither is he, for that matter.”
Jimin finds his head jerking in a series of nods. “I am profoundly unattached.”
One corner of the vampire’s lips quirks up. “Good to know.”
Hoseok clears his throat. “Well. I’m off. Text me before you leave.” He shoots Jimin a look, and Jimin knows exactly what he’s saying – try not to fumble this, which Jimin absolutely does not need to be told – before his hyung is gliding away in the general direction of where Yoongi went earlier.
“I’m Jungkook,” The vampire says, fingers tapping against the glass of Literal Bloody Mary Jimin didn’t even notice he’s had until now. He has that familiar Vampyr drawl in his voice — sophistication and some level of poshness in their speech that most vampires, even across different clans, seem to possess.
“Jimin,” Jimin breathes. “It’s – it’s nice to meet you.”
Jungkook inclines his head. “Likewise,” he says, and the half-smirk softens into something more sheepish. “So. I happened to catch a little bit of your conversation with your friend.”
“Oh my gods.” Jimin smacks his hands to his heating cheeks. He hasn’t said more than three sentences and he’s already fucking things up with the only being he’s met here who he actually thinks he’d be down to fuck. “I am. So sorry.”
Jungkook waves his hand. “Don’t be.” He lowers his voice. “I have a – proposition of sorts.”
Jimin perks up. A proposition? From someone who looks the way Jungkook does? Looks like Lady Luck has finally decided to take pity on him and throw him a bone. “Go on?”
“Well, I don’t know how much you know about vampire feeding habits–” admittedly not enough, despite Seokjin’s utter lack of shame and/or decorum when it comes to his vampiric quirks, “– but I tend towards a more… delicate palate.”
Jimin thinks he can see where this is going. “You’re more picky with your blood.”
“That would be putting it mildly, in all honesty.” Jungkook leans forward, gaze far more intense than Jimin was really prepared for. “And it just so happens that you’re,” Jimin watches his tongue slide over his bottom lip like he’s in a trance, “just my type. And, if I may be so forward, I do believe that I could be yours, too?”
Jimin laughs nervously. “What gave you that impression?”
Jungkook just gives him a look, and Jimin flushes, looking away. “That,” he drawls, “and I can smell it. Your attraction.”
Pause.
“...Vampires can smell that?” Jimin squeaks out. He can’t believe Seokjin’s never mentioned it before. Has he just been going around knowing exactly when people were feeling turned on? Was it rude to mention it? Is that why he’s never talked about it?
Jungkook grins. “Some can. I just happen to have an extra sensitive nose.”
Jimin relaxes. Okay. Seokjin was probably ancient enough to have lost whatever power that was.
“So, your decision?” Jungkook’s staring expectantly at him. “No pressure at all. I don’t want to feed from someone who isn’t willing.”
“Well, if I really am,” Jimin swallows, “your type, then there’s no way I couldn’t help. Since that’s what this is. Helping, right? Doing you a favour?”
Jungkook grins. “Yes,” he lilts. “Helping.”
—
And that’s how Jimin finds himself in Jungkook’s apartment, back to a wall; Jungkook seems to be trying to Turn him purely by kissing the living daylights out of him. Vampires don’t need to breathe – a fact that becomes increasingly obvious as Jimin struggles to keep up with Jungkook when it feels like he’s everywhere, overloading his senses because Jungkook tastes like magic, a dark, old energy that tickles at the edges of Jimin’s nerves.
It gets Jimin’s cock stiffening in his pants, gets the pooling heat in his stomach simmering away as he gasps into Jungkook’s mouth and clutches at his arms and waist like Jimin would shrivel up and die without his hands all over Jungkook.
A hand palms at Jimin, pulling a sharp whimper from him, only to withdraw just as quickly to reroute, almost, skating around his pelvis to slide between Jimin’s cheeks far too smoothly.
It’s hot, albeit a little uncomfortable having Jungkook poke and prod around when Jimin hasn’t been prepped, but the vampire seems to understand this; he doesn’t spend much more time on the build-up, pulling back and staring at Jimin with his eyes glowing a faint amber and his mouth popped open. Mouth popped open, because his fangs are extending. He probably wouldn’t be able to close his mouth without puncturing his own bottom lip. (Though Jimin doesn’t know if he would bleed. Do hungry vampires that haven’t fed in a while still have blood running through their veins?)
“I’m going to bite you now,” Jungkook says. His pupils are dilated.
“Okay,” Jimin says, heart pounding, and Jungkook leans forward, hands sliding across his body.
Jungkook sinks his teeth into Jimin’s neck, and look.
Jimin thinks it’s fair to be afraid of fangs slicing into his skin and the thought of someone literally sucking out his blood. He has, however, psyched this up in his mind for at least ten minutes already, so he’ll be fine.
He’ll be fine. He can be rational — he’s asking for this, or at least consenting to it. There should be no reason why it doesn’t go smoothly on Jimin’s end.
Which is why he surprises himself with the decidedly irrational course of action he winds up adopting.
Jungkook sinks his teeth into Jimin‘s neck.
Jimin squeaks. Out of pure instinct, he lurches forward and just — clamps down too.
He hears Jungkook make a noise of surprise, before he’s pulling back, hands on Jimin’s shoulders.
Jungkook stares. “Did you just bite me?”
Jimin gasps before retorting, mouth moving faster than his mind. “You bit me first!”
Jungkook points at his fangs, stained red. “Because I’m supposed to! You’re a human. And you said okay!”
“And?” Jimin crosses his arms and pouts. He’s chosen to double down, apparently, as he banters back with, “I can’t let you vampires have all the fun.”
Jungkook shakes his head, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like you’re ridiculous, but Jimin decides against taking any offence, because Jimin is vaguely embarrassed, and just because Jimin hasn’t scared him off by biting him, it doesn’t mean he should take any more chances. Jungkook is far too cute for Jimin to fumble this now. He changes the subject.
“So, uh, what were you saying just now about an aphrodisiac effect?” Jimin asks, rocking forward with his gaze fixed on Jungkook. “I didn’t feel anything.”
“…at all?” Jungkook asks. “It usually kicks in immediately.”
Jimin nods like he understands. “Maybe I’m immune.”
Jungkook regards him carefully. “No, you can’t be. Nobody is. Maybe you just have a tolerance for it.” He squints at Jimin, bristling all of a sudden. “By any chance… have you let a vampire feed from you before?”
“Um. Not that I know of?”
Jungkook settles, seeming satisfied. “Okay. That doesn't make sense.”
Jimin scrunches up his nose. He’s about to say something when he feels something wet on his neck, and immediately Jungkook’s gaze snaps down to the same area.
“You’re probably just immune,” Jungkook mutters, before he’s diving in to latch onto Jimin’s bleeding neck, which does, as promised earlier when Jungkook was negotiating feeding at the bar, feel nice and numb.
No aphrodisiac effect, Jimin mourns as Jungkook continues to feed from him like a starving puppy, wet and messy and he’s making little sounds of satisfaction as the blood leaves Jimin. It’s an odd sensation. Nothing particularly sexy, but interesting nonetheless.
He’s still a little bit turned on — he thinks anyone would be, with the lips of someone like Jeon Jungkook attached to their skin — but not any more than before Jungkook bit him and he bit back.
Jimin stares down at the dull imprint of his teeth in Jungkook’s skin.
At least Jungkook won’t be forgetting about him anytime soon.
They stay like that for a few minutes, before Jungkook delivers one final, wistful lick across the puncture wounds in Jimin’s neck and pulls away.
They don’t speak for a while. Jimin’s a little out of it (blood loss), and so is Jungkook (food coma?), so Jimin quietly hums to himself as Jungkook catches his breath and licks his lips.
Oh. Jimin zeros in on that, watches as pink swipes over a darker red. He mustn’t have lost that much blood, because Jimin’s cock gives a weak little twitch at that. Still hard in his pants.
Jungkook notices. “Poor baby,” he coos. “My turn to take care of you.” And he’s crashing his lips onto Jimin’s — he still tastes like magic but now there’s a metallic undertone of blood that lingers heavy, and Jimin finds his eyes rolling back into his head.
But there’s a sudden bolt of pain that travels through him, pulsing out from his abdomen, and he yelps into Jungkook’s mouth. As a human, his sensitivity to the mystic and magical generally lies on the oblivious end, but even he can feel the shift in aura around them. The air is thick and musky and breathing, and whatever’s happening to Jimin is pulsing along to it.
He doesn’t even realise Jungkook’s pulled away and is asking him if he’s alright in a desperate voice that hints at gradual panic until Jungkook’s massaging at his neck, checking the two neat holes in his skin.
“I’m — uh, stomach hurts,” Jimin manages to choke out.
Jungkook’s brow furrows. “Was it the shrimp?”
Jimin waves his hand frantically. “Magic,” he wheezes through the pain.
Magic, Jungkook mouths, and takes a deep breath, brow furrowing deeper. “Magic,” he says, worried. “I think I might know what this is.”
Jimin gestures wildly for him to go on.
“It’s, uh.” Jungkook looks flustered, for the first time. “Some humans tend to have an especially special reaction to our venom. It goes further than heightening arousal — it sort of… changes your anatomy?”
“What,” Jimin grits out. Is this what period cramps feel like?
Jungkook winces. “You might be developing a womb.”
“Why didn’t you warn me earlier?” Jimin feels like he’s on the verge of passing out.
“I didn’t know this would happen!” Jungkook protests. “It’s like a one in a million chance!”
“Lucky me,” Jimin snarks, and doubles over when the next few waves of pain that hits seem to be the worst ones yet. His mind goes blank.
Jungkook, to his credit, seems to gather himself and pulls Jimin into his lap fully, shushing him as he rubs at his stomach, trying to ease some of his discomfort.
Eventually, the pain subsides, leaving Jimin a sweaty, panting mess, but the relief that washes over him feels like a sip of water after a long shift that had him teetering on the edge of dehydration.
Somehow, he’s still hard.
“You good now?” Jungkook asks softly.
Jimin nods softly. “I think so. I —“ he cuts himself off with a choked gasp. It’s like the simmering heat that’s been sitting nicely in his stomach all this while has been turned up to a maximum he didn’t know it had, something that makes him feel like he’s on fire, and all of a sudden it’s like he can feel so much more; from the cool touch of Jungkook’s hands on his stomach to the way his breath fans over his skin, to the press of Jungkook’s cock against Jimin’s thighs and the way his own cock is aching, screaming for release and relief.
Then Jimin feels it.
Wetness. A moist between his asscheeks. Jungkook twitches against him.
He reaches down, hands shaking. Swipes at the slick between his thighs. Holds his fingers in front of him to confirm.
“You’re — you’re lubricating,” Jungkook chokes, voice lower than it’s ever been since he met him.
A deep, primal need fills Jimin, drowns him in the intensity of the feeling, shuts out every and any thought that isn’t about getting Jungkook’s cock in him.
Jimin pounces.
—
“How long will it last?” Jimin asks anxiously. He’d made Jungkook pull out each and every time he’d come (which had been way too many) because if the online articles are right and Jimin is in a heat cycle with a working uterus and ovaries, he simply can’t afford to get pregnant (both financially and biologically).
But he does, against all logical thought and reasoning, want Jungkook coming inside him at least once.
It doesn’t help that Jungkook seems to have a breeding kink, pouting and whining every time he pulls out to come on Jimin’s stomach or face instead. Seriously, you’d think he’s more a werewolf than a vampire.
Jimin can’t decide if Jungkook looks relieved or glum when he replies, pressing a kiss to Jimin’s forehead, “Shouldn’t be more than a few hours now. One more heat wave and you should be all back to normal.”
Jimin sags into Jungkook, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Thank god, he doesn’t say, but he’s pretty sure Jungkook can smell it on him anyway.
“Sorry. About all this,” Jungkook says. He sounds genuinely apologetic enough that Jimin turns to look up at him. “I really didn’t know. This has… not happened before.”
Jimin hmphs. “I would hope not.”
Jungkook laughs softly. “Would it be too much to ask if I could see you again after this? We could grab lunch or dinner? Coffee?”
“Vampires don’t drink coffee,” Jimin says. He might not know much about vampires, but he’s spent enough time with Seokjin to know that all vamps have an aversion to the stuff. Not that they’d need it, anyway.
“But humans do,” Jungkook says, soft and fond.
Jimin lets an equally soft smile grow on his face. He’s about to accept when he shudders; a familiar fire creeps into his veins and starts to spread. The burst of energy it brings propels him into straddling a surprised Jungkook. His cock is leaking. The cum on his torso is still wet.
“One more time,” Jimin breathes. “Fuck me one more time, and I’ll go out with you after.”
Jungkook flashes him a grin. His fangs, retracted but still pointy, glint.
“Whatever you say, baby,” He drawls. “Once, twice, seven times. As much as you like.”
Jimin leans into a searing kiss.