Work Text:
The forest is dead. Everything with the ability to, has already ran away. Everything that stayed behind cannot be saved.
Jimin fears he has slipped into the latter category, braced against an ancient tree, trying to remember how to breathe.
His feet are burning, bleeding, covered in scratches from rocks and roots he didn't manage to avoid. He can't avoid much in these parts of the woods though, wouldn't have been able to, even if the sun still shone. He doesn't know the trees, and he hasn't seen a path in hours- though he doesn't think running on the paths is a good idea anyway. It'll make him easier to find.
The forest is growing colder, somehow darker. It had already been night when they arrived. The sun should have returned by now, but Jimin doesn't quite believe the sun will come to this forest. It's not like the world he used to know. He knows he doesn't belong there.
Maybe that’s why, when he hears a twig break, he doesn't even try to hide. He runs. Jimin, who has never even participated in any of the village's sports, who has never once been chosen to carry over a message to the village, who has spent every night for two decades bent over a book, runs.
He doesn't run fast enough. The creatures are like shadows, in front of him and behind him at the same time. He's blinded, just as likely to crash into a tree as anything else, and he can't breathe. His legs move, but he doesn't think he is moving anymore, not as the shadows come closer, slithering around his neck just like they had on every person and animal in his village.
A shiver runs down Jimin's back, freezing him from the inside, and then he is flat on his back in a perfectly round clearing, locking eyes with death.
It's two men. They look almost normal. Like travellers passing through, or like monks from other worlds. Or like royalty.
One of them is taller, broader, and he is smiling. Not a sly smirk, not even evil joy. It's warm. Those very teeth killed every person Jimin has known only a few hours ago, and still, it is a handsome smile. Jimin wants to throw up at the thought. He is dressed like a prince in brown and black, with ruffled collars and long sleeves. His boots shine in the moonlight and his jewellery clinks gently as he moves to push soft black hair out of the others face.
"Look at him, darling,"
The other vampire doesn't smile, but he doesn't look angry. Reserved, maybe. Defeated.
He is dressed like his partner, though instead of a row of necklaces he carries a set of heavy looking golden belts. His hair is longer, somehow darker, though both their hair looks almost black in the light.
"Adorable." The taller vampire turns back to Jimin, taking a step closer.
Jimin tries to move, to run again, but he can only lift himself up on an arm, try to twist away, and then his body moves on its own. His arms straighten down his sides, feet lifting off the ground beneath, and then he is closer. Closer to the vampires that are trying to kill him. Closer with every breath.
"He's terrified, Seokjin." The smaller vampire says, but he doesn't move. He looks at Jimin, concentrated, eyes sharp as a cat’s.
Jimin doesn’t stop floating forward before he's almost touching Seokjin. They're eye to eye, but Jimin can't look, realizing much too late that in his efforts to lean away, he has only bared his neck.
Inhumanly strong fingers curl into his hair, holding him still. The tip of an ice-cold nose runs over his jugular. Jimin stops breathing.
"Be gentle," the smaller vampire steps around Jimin, the same cool hardness pressing against his back, holding him.
Seokjin follows the line of Jimin’s neck with his nose, leaving a gentle, freezing kiss beneath Jimin's jaw. "I always am, Yoongi-ya," and then he bites down.
Jimin screams like dying pig, and then like a newborn child. Fire runs through his veins from his neck, destroying his body and freezing the rests.
A second pair of teeth, Yoongi, slides across Jimin’s shoulders, to the other side of his neck. Jimin can't move. Can't beg. Can only take another useless breath as sharp fangs sink in and the vampire begins to drink.
The venom is heavier than blood. It fills him, steady and burning, as his blood flows up and up and out of him. Leaving him empty and cold and trying and failing to breathe.
It's hell. It's payment for sins Jimin never even got to commit. And then it's bliss.
As the last drop of human blood is pulled from his veins, the venom turns warm. It runs across his burned veins, making it tingle. Jimin is lit aflame from the inside, but this time it's like fireworks, rather than a forest fire. It's like a long day spent alone by the river, when he would bring the handle that had fallen off their old axe and slowly work it into himself. When he had just found that sparkling spot, pressing against it and pulling on his cock. When his vision would turn white and everything would be good in the world for a few moments.
But this time, the moment doesn't end. Yoongi licks the bite, and Jimin can feal as it starts to heal faster. As Yoongi's saliva starts stitching him up. Yoongi's hands curling around his front, slipping into his slacks and curling around the base of Jimin’s leaking cock.
Seokjin licks his bite for longer, licks up the side of Jimin’s neck, and when his hands slip down they slip between his cheeks, pressing over Jimin’s rim for a moment, feeling it, and then pressing a single finger inside. Jimin's body welcomes him, relaxes, dry but open, and then he's coming. He curls over Seokjin’s shoulder trying to breathe as his body convulses. As it continues to convulse. As his orgasm melts into the fireworks in his veins, blinding. All consuming.
The world is darkness. Jimin is darkness. Only for a few moments, and then it is much too bright.
He hides his face in Yoongi's neck. He is crying, gasping but breathing doesn't help. Doesn't weaken the fireworks as Seokjin slips two fingers into Jimin’s hole again, lubricated this time, pants probably left behind in the forest. He's gentle, keeping steady pressure as the last of the pleasure rips itself out of Jimin.
Jimin can't breathe. Can't make himself- but Yoongi can. With a soft thunk to the side of Jimin’s ribs, the reflex starts again and Jimin gasps against Yoongi skin. Soft, warm skin. Jimin could have sworn it was cold stone minutes ago.
"The poor baby is tired already," Seokjin coos from behind, fingers continuing a gentle rhythm. Jimin is well aware that he’s usually twitchy and restless at this point, wanting a bath and some fresh clothes, but this time his body feels like a bag of sand. He molds into Yoongi, letting Seokjin’s do as he pleases, until he is almost asleep.
Just as Jimin's heartbeat has reached a comfortable low, Seokjin shifts, tilting Jimin’s head to the side, and then biting down again without a word. His fangs feel longer. They press themselves deep into Jimin’s flesh and as the venom begins pumping for the second time, it reaches deeper. It's unbarred by blood, by Jimin’s heart fighting back.
Jimin’s heart doesn't seem to have recognized the situation. Slow and gentle as it was when everything was calm and comfortable. It almost tricks him. There is no heartrate and no stress fogging his mind, only the pain of the bite, quickly numbed by the venom, and the little voice in Jimin’s chest, screaming that he needs to run.
The voice is quietened as Yoongi reaches around him, wrapping a solid hand around Jimin's somehow very hard cock, and starting gentle strokes. "Breathe," he reminds again, tapping the side of Jimin’s chest with his free hand. Jimin listens.
He can feel the venom in his muscles, weakening them into nothingness and planting a burning seed of growth. Jimin doesn’t think he'll be able to walk within the next month, but at the same time he won't be surprised if he can fly in a year.
Before Jimin has the time to register it, his vision clouds up and his back arches, coming in lacking splashes over Yoongi's wrist and his own stomach.
Yoongi wipes his hands on the bed cover, and lays it over Jimin's stomach. At the same time, Seokjin’s fangs retract again, from the very corners of Jimin’s soul, and Jimin realizes that he's no longer being filled by fingers.
The little voice inside him shifts.
He has been abandoned.
Seokjin has decided Jimin isn't good enough, and Yoongi doesn't want him anymore. They're going to throw him back out into the cold forest and leave him all alone in the dark. He can't let them. He will die. He doesn't know how to convince them otherwise.
"Sweetheart," Seokjin’s voice is deeper, mouth still dripping with venom, but somehow gentle. Jimin used to think venom was death, but now he's becoming increasingly sure that it's the secret to getting to stay in the warm nest. To get another orgasm. "Are you in pain?"
Jimin doesn't know what answer they want. Do vampires like when people are in pain? He's not sure exactly how he can make himself be in pain again with the amount of venom inside him. The venom numbs and then it heals, but it can’t fill the emptiness inside. Can't make him any less alone in his quickly deteriorating body.
"There is no way he can still feel pain." Yoongi rolls his eyes, stroking Jimin’s sides with both hands, letting one flicker over his nipple. Jimin can’t and doesn't try to stop himself from arching into it. "Do you want blood, baby?"
Jimin twists further into Yoongi's hold, almost turning to his side before Seokjin pulls him back into place, pinning them both under himself. With one fingernail, he cuts a stripe across the side of his own neck, and a thick, red liquid starts slowly streaming out.
It shines in the very low light of the room. Glitters like diamond rings and golden thread. It flows thicker than blood should be, down the defined lines of Seokjin’s throat, bending like a river against a mountainside until it begins to pool into a lake at his collarbones.
Jimin feels paralyzed, until Yoongi nudges him again, and Jimin breathes. Smells it. It smells like sirup and berries and summer. His eyes roll back, fingers finding the edges of Seokjin’s tunic, grabbing. Holding. Pulling. Tasting.
It's not blood. Not quite. There's nothing metallic about it. It's much sweeter. Jimin stops breathing, doesn't need to, not when he gulps down Seokjin’s warmth. Seokjin’s hand is tight on his neck. Holding him firmly in place. He doesn't want Jimin to stop. He's going to let Jimin have his fill.
Jimin feels for a moment, like everything will be alright.
He doesn't remember much of the next few days. There is only Seokjin and only Yoongi. Sometimes one of them leaves, and Jimin cries, but they always come back. After the third round of venom and blood, when Jimin refused to be calmed by empty words, Seokjin finally gave Jimin his cock, holding him still against the mattress so it was almost as secure as it would have been if Yoongi hadn't left, and slowly sinking in.
It isn't fucking quite like Jimin knew it before. There is only the movement needed to press them together, to make Jimin immobile and full, then the euphoric sting of fangs sinking in, and then stillness. Closeness. It's the only time Jimin can let go of the stinging fear of being left behind. It lasts for hours at the time. Maybe days. Jimin doesn’t think he’d know the difference.
There is no day and night in the bedroom, always dark, with the soft light of candles allowing Jimin just enough vision to find his- his sires, as they call themselves. Jimin doesn’t mind. The little light that sometimes slips in through the door only hurts his eyes.
He doesn't eat either, only drinks Seokjin’s blood, sucks on Yoongi's fingers. The rest of the time he sleeps, filled by a warm, eternally pumping cock. His body doesn't move much, muscles filled with venom and heart slower than the dying. He's never alone, thinks he might never be again. He likes that thought.
As Yoongi comes back again after a few hours, if Jimin's sense of time is anything to go by, which it probably isn’t, he smells like the river. Jimin is tucked into Seokjin’s arms, filled by heavy cock, and the bite is just starting to heal over again. He holds a large pillow in Yoongi's stead, pressing his face into it and glaring at his sire.
"Did you go fishing?" Seokjin asks, amused. Jimin is not amused. This is betrayal.
"No, darling." Yoongi walks over to Jimin, crawling to the nest and settling just by his head, fingers tangling into his hair. Jimin feels more inclined to forgive. "The hunt took an unexpected direction, and I didn't want to stay away from my beautiful Jiminie for too long."
Jimin nods. Of course. Yoongi didn't want to leave, and now he is back. He is dry and gentle, if a little strange-smelling, and when his soft lips press to Jimin’s, Jimin doesn't care to discuss it further.
He decides to spend the time convincing Yoongi not to leave again, instead.
The thought that he once was out there too, that he once could be again, doesn’t cross his mind until a few centuries later.