Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“And if the sun comes up, will it tear the skin right off our bones?”

Germany, present times.

The local was packed. Not full, packed. It was almost too much for Mingi’s acute senses.

Mingi cut through the sea of people easily, though he didn’t have to worry much. Both men and women automatically made way for him as soon as they casted their eyes on his form, creating enough passage for him to walk. 

Upon reaching the counter, Mingi slid off his dark long coat, casted it on a stool and then sat on it, setting his elbow on the wooden surface in front of him. 

“Look at who’s alive. Thought you would never show up again.” The barista said when locking eyes with him, already reaching for a bottle of whiskey with a practiced hand.

Mingi smiled ever so slightly, his fangs barely showing between his lips. “Jongho, jokes do not suit you.”

Jongho was one of the few humans who knew that Mingi wasn’t, in fact, alive. Mingi had been going to this specific bar for at least a decade, and while Jongho had grown in muscle and strength, Mingi hadn’t aged a single day.

Though he supposed - he knew - that he didn’t look human. His features were unnaturally good, his skin pale and without a single flaw despite his not young age. His hair reached his shoulders and it was a black along with his eyes that pierced through everything and everyone. He wore various jewels and accessories that he changed daily, though he always wore a particular signet ring on his left hand. Always on him, always with him. 

Plus, he was tall, and perhaps his choice of clothing added to the sense of mystery he naturally carried. In conclusion, he was so attractive and unnatural that it resulted uncanny to normal people. Rightfully so, considering that again, he was very much dead.

Still, Jongho had learnt not to ask certain questions and that, more than anything, was why Mingi liked him.

People were both fascinated and scared by him, but no one dared to actually ask him who he was - what he was. And it was better that way, the last thing Mingi needed was a bunch of angry town people with fire and silver hunting him down.

Not again.

He quite licked it there, too - razing the whole city to the ground would be a shame.

“Can I get you something?” Jongho asked, though he already knew what he wanted. 

“Plain whiskey please. No need for a tab, I will pay for it immediately.” Mingi pulled out his wallet and placed some cash on the counter - the payment and a generous tip.

He sipped on his drink silently, observing the crowd. He couldn’t get drunk, not anymore, but he didn’t mind the taste of alcohol once in a while. He didn’t need to feed tonight, the drunk man of the previous day had been more than enough. It had been disgusting, the blood of drunk or sick men was rancid and outright horrible, but it would suffice. It was better than nothing, that was for sure.

His eyes scanned every man and woman from head to toe. There were lots of different people - some happy, some desperate, some looking for sex, money, drugs, or all of them. Some were lonely, some less so. He could sense various heartbeats too, strong and weak ones, pumping blood through the veins. Veins that, in Mingi’s body, were cold and empty.

He was glad he could filter out the thoughts of everyone there, because if not, he would have went crazy with all the commotion. If it had been many centuries earlier, when he was still a young vampire, he might have even went on a killing spree because of the quantity of blood he could feel moving through the bodies in the room.

“San, this is Mingi. He’s quite the regular here, so…treat him kindly will you?” Jongho’s voice rang out again, and Mingi turned around on his stool again, imperceptibly raising a brow at being mentioned. 

Next to Jongho stood a man, who Mingi supposed was a new barman, that was looking at him with curiosity. He was  shorter than Mingi, but a little more muscular. He was dressed all in black and he had a white towel slung over one shoulder. His eyes immediately flicked to Mingi, and the vampire could basically feel the gaze on his skin. Not fear, not yet. Curiosity. 

San just smiled - showing his dimples - and went back to work, though he occasionally stole glances at Mingi, just to see if he would do something out of the ordinary. Just to try and decide whether to label him as dangerous or simply strange. 

Mingi didn’t mind, not one bit. He had been stared at for centuries - by priests and soldiers, scholars and executioners, politicians and fools. He was used to curiosity tinted with fear more than anything else.

He resumed watching the crowd, not staring enough time for someone to get alarmed, but observing every detail that mattered. Humans were boring because they were plain and predictable - no matter the century - but he supposed that he had had too much experience with living by them.

Then, something shifted. An imperceptible absence was suddenly occupied with such an urge that almost made Mingi’s eyes roll back behind his eyelids, his fingers tightening imperceptibly around the small glass that miraculously didn’t break under his firm hold. 

Ah. Not again. 

The feeling was unmistakable, it was a pressure behind the sternum, painless and aching all at once. It was as if the world had narrowed, the loud sound of the bar dulling like someone had pressed a hand over his ears. He idly started fidgeting with the signet ring on his hand, passing his other fingers on it, pressing against the engraved letters as if they could bring him away.

He did not turn, he did not need to. 

The barstool gently scraped next to him, and someone sat down leaving a single empty seat between them. San approached the person with a welcoming smile as Jongho was busy serving another patron on the other side of the counter. “What can I get you?” 

“Your choice, but something bitter, please.” The voice was warm, undeniably so. Not too high pitched, but definitely higher than Mingi’s. It was human in every way that mattered. 

Mingi closed his eyes, bringing an hand to his forehead to try and ground himself. To avoid making a carnage of what was a great place to pass a night drinking. Resignation settled in first, like it always did - almost more familiar than the sensation of sinking his fangs into skin. Dread followed close after, not even panicked, just tired. 

Had it truly been that long? Was it truly already the time?

In the meantime, the man had paid for his drink and was now sipping on it, Mingi didn’t have to look at him to know what expression was on his face. He felt his eyes on him like a gravitational pull that went beyond anything else. 

Of course. 

When he finally turned slightly towards the new presence it felt like tearing open a scabbed wound to make blood pour out, just to drench it in stinging alcohol afterwards. 

Yunho watched him with his head tilted, his big brown eyes filled with curiosity and something keen to awe. 

Mingi’s chest ached so much that he thought his still heart would rip itself out just to avoid suffering any further. No, not again. Not another one. It did not matter how many centuries had passed, what face he wore, what life he led, what sins he had or hadn’t committed yet. It did not matter that he didn’t remember. The engraved letters felt like they were on fire against the skin of his ring finger.

‘His Highness J.Y.’

He had loved Yunho in towns, cathedrals and dark alleyways, in war camps and royal palaces. He had loved him with selfishness only, he had loved him with blood on his hands and with none left to give.

Yunho was the love of his life. He always was, he always would be.

And he was already mourning him.

“Uhm…is this seat taken?”

† ✞︎ ♱ ✟

England, 1300s

The narrow streets of the small city were considered scary and dangerous at night. The only sources of light were the torches and lanterns hung on the stone walls, swinging occasionally because of the wind.

The cold stone that made the houses was supposed to keep death away, for superstition was a very present element in everyone’s lives. With various illnesses, battles, and negative events, death was as looming as ever - for that exact reason it was a taboo to talk about. Crosses hung everywhere and saints watched from the high parts of the only church of the town - people’s faith, having been drilled into them since birth, was as much uncanny as the Devil they speaked so badly of.

A farmer in his twenties was ushering some sheeps in their fence where they belonged - his movements rapid and shaky, like he was afraid of someone. Afraid of something. Superstitious or not, cold winter nights were scary for almost everyone.

Yes, superstition was a very present element in that society, yet Mingi’s presence alone contradicted all of it. 

Mingi had not been a vampire for long. Long enough to know hunger and long enough to know fear, sure, but not long enough to know how to live peacefully with them either.

He walked to the outskirts of the town in a hurry, moving through the dark quickly. His cloak swayed behind him and his steps made no noise on the cobblestone. He had to feed that night, he was craving blood. He had long passed his fledgling days, but thirst was still as insistent as ever - perhaps it would always be. 

His turning had been violent and, most importantly, completely unwanted. His sire - someone whose name was unknown to Mingi - had left him to die in a forest, wailing and covered in blood. An older vampire had found him and pushed him through his first stages of being undead. It was only thanks to him that Mingi was now a full, coherent vampire. However, that older vampire - Seonghwa, he had told him his name one time only - had disappeared one day, vanishing into nothing and leaving Mingi alone once more with a sole letter. That letter, which Mingi still owned, had his location for emergencies and other basic instructions.

Truly, Mingi had originally wanted to follow him, but he quickly realised that reaching Germany would have been too difficult, and most of all, useless. He did not know what Seonghwa could have possibly meant by emergencies, for he had no idea about what emergencies for vampires could look like. Albeit Seonghwa had always had the habit of speaking cryptically, so he wasn’t surprised by the lack of context in the cursive words written on the letter.

Still, Mingi had felt the solitude setting into him the first night he had passed without Seonghwa. He wondered just what the vampire could have wanted to move to another country entirely. Or maybe who. 

Mingi observed as the farmer guided the last ship in and then closed the wooden fence. Like a wooden fence could do much against him. With a soundless motion, he hopped the obstacle, not a single hair out of place. A second later he was behind the man before he could even think to scream and call for help. Also due to the fact that, call for help? Call who? Beyond that they were in the outskirts, no one even cared for a mere farmer. No one would willingly go out at night to witness something that shouldn’t have been real in the first place.

Clasping an hand over the man’s mouth to silence him anyway, Mingi parted his lips and bit the throat directly, not even bothering to dull the pain with his saliva before. Why would he? He would drain his veins dry with or without pain. 

 And in fact, with every gulp of the - rather inferior tasting - blood, the farmer went more and more limp under Mingi’s hold, until his legs gave in completely. After some minutes, Mingi parted himself from the skin, swiping his bloodied lips with the back of his hand and letting the cadaver fall to the ground. What he felt a little bad for were the sheeps - poor things would probably be killed because they were filled with the Devil’s intention, or something. Still, he felt his hunger dwell enough for him to be somehow peaceful. 

Just as he started picking up the body again, his ears perceived a small sound. He joisted the corpse in his arms and quickly walked more in the forest, hiding behind the trees. He had originally planned to simply dump the dead farmer into the river, but he supposed a hole in the ground would do the job. And that was exactly what he did. If some pigs found it, well, they would only eat more.

Then, he focused on the sound again. Steps - footsteps on grass. Not too strange, considering they were next to a town, but strange enough due to the fact that it was night. Mingi squinted, moving through the trees, and after a few moments he located the source of them - the absence of light wasn’t a problem in the slightest for his vampiric eyes.

Another man. He looked young, no doubt younger than the farmer Mingi had just killed. He wore simple clothes, rough and patched up, and had a ragged bag slung over his shoulder. His hair was brown, short and definitely messy, but it suited him. His eyes were also brown, though darkened by the contrast between the eye bags he had under them and his pale skin.

He walked until he reached the river, and crouched down with a small frown. The water flowed, scraping against the stones and the sand, while some mouses scrambled nearby. The man was clearly lost in his mind, staring at the water intensely, though the reflection of the moon was the only visible thing for a human’s sight at night.

Mingi, too, stared. Only he wasn’t staring at the water. The younger farmed looked…alive - that was for sure - but also bright, unafraid of the darkness. He didn’t know his name nor his voice, and yet. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to know more. He was genuinely curious about that singular human.

From where he was hidden, he could observe him silently. The stranger, who was now picking in the water with a stick he had gathered from the dirt, had a sharp profile. Surprisingly enough, he seemed to be taller than Mingi, but surely thinner, though that probably was from the severe lack of food farmers were subjected by. In fact, his fingers looked slender - too slender - and his clothes fell on his body, too large for it. His lips were chapped, the skin broken and damaged due to the cold. He had a scar next to his right eyebrow, faded and cropped. Despite his condition, his heart had a strong heartbeat, not tainted by illness or excessive fatigue or malnutrition - Mingi could hear it clearly.

The vampire had seem whole families die because of hunger - the famine cutting right through their bodies, leaving them with sunken limbs and faces that showed more bones than skin. So, he was surprised by the rythm of his heart, for hungry bodies tended to pump less blood due to exhaustion.

Mingi was intrigued. He had been a vampire for around eighty years, and this human was the first one to catch his attention. 

So, he went back the following night. And the one after. And the one after. He went back to the river for a whole month, whether he needed or not to feed on someone. The farmer wasn’t always there, sometimes he would come for a full week, sometimes just some days, sometimes he didn’t come for multiple nights. For reasons unknown to him, Mingi always felt a dull uneasiness at the man’s absence, like his soul wanted to discover more about him. 

For his part, the stranger didn’t do much when he was out. He often crouched next to the water just to watch it flow, or to put his hand in it - though Mingi couldn’t phantom why a human, out of all creatures, would willingly soak their skin in freezing water at night, in winter. Sometimes he would look up at the sky, squinting his eyes and biting slightly his lip in concentration, as if to try and make sense out of the constellations, to try and communicate with the stars themselves. Sometimes he would sit on the ground to try to make the small rats approach him, and even then, Mingi sensed no ill intent towards them - meaning he didn’t want to hunt them, but rather to observe them silently. 

Just like Mingi was doing with him.

Mingi watched him watching the nature, Mingi watched him shiver from the cold, sneeze, cough, breathe, Mingi watched him exist. And he had yet to hear his voice. He wondered if his body would feel warm against his - it surely would, considering that pretty much everything alive felt warm against Mingi. He wondered how his blood would taste, if it would be sweet, saccharine, or maybe more on the pungent side. He wondered if the man was the type to try and fight someone biting him, or if he would just go limp under his unforgiving hands. 

Mingi wondered, and wondered, and wondered. 

Until one night, he had had enough.

Winter wasn’t quite over yet, but the temperature had risen ever so slightly during the day. When the sun set down, though, it was cold all the same. It didn’t really matter for Mingi, it wasn’t like he could feel the cold, but he supposed it made a difference for humans.

When the farmer arrived at the river that night, sat on a big rock and tilted his head up to look at the sky, Mingi stepped out of the dark, leaning back against a tree in silence and folding his arms. The stranger didn’t see him - both because Mingi had been quiet like a ghost, and because he was so focused on the stars that that the world could’ve ended right there and then and he wouldn’t have noticed.

In the silence, Mingi’s eyes fixated on his throat, where his pulse point was, where his skin was soft and pale - so pale he could see the greenish of the vein situated under it. Imperceptibly, he passed his tongue over his fangs - killing the boy before even talking to him would be a shame.

One second the farmer’s eyes were looking up, the next they were looking straight at Mingi, widening in shock and, most importantly, fear.

Really, Mingi understood, who wouldn’t be scared? And what could he say, that he shouldn’t be afraid because if he had wanted him dead, he would already be drained dry? That wouldn’t be too reassuring for a human.

The farmer yelped slightly as he scrambled to his feet, swaying lightly due to the suddenness of the action, trying to understand if Mingi was a threat or not. “Who…who are you?”

His voice was smooth, typically masculine. Mingi wondered, yet again, how it would ring out under him. How it would sound when he sunk his fangs into his neck, drinking his blood and taking his warmth to make it his own. He pushed those thoughts aside for once, as he had to make sure the stranger wouldn’t sprint away - because if he did, he would be forced to kill him. Mingi’s presence was a secret no human of this town could find out. Except this one, maybe.

Instead of directly answering the question, he retorted to something else. Call him manipulative or else, but he had no intention of telling him the truth. “You’re out late.”

The man’s eyes remained wide, but his stance loosened a bit. Interesting. A tad crazy if you asked Mingi. “…I could say the same.” His voice was as warm as his presence was, it was human.

Their eyes met again, Mingi’s pitch black ones and the other’s light brown shaded. Then, he kept speaking when he didn’t receive a proper answer.

“I’m, uh, I’m…my name is Yunho.” He offered his hand with little hesitation, though Mingi was too far away to take it. 

The vampire stared at it, at its warm skin, its pulse visible in the sunken part of the wrist, veins visible. Trust, given freely. This man was a fool.

Mingi didn’t take it, nor did he step closer, what he said instead was his own name. “Mingi.”

“Mingi,” Yunho repeated, his tone almost sheepish as he dropped his hand back to his side. It had been many, many years since someone had called Mingi by his name. 

Yunho studied Mingi openly, without caution, his eyes trailing up and down the vampire’s body in pure interest. “Well, Mingi. What are you doing here so late?” 

Mingi didn’t reply, for he didn’t have an adequate answer. He looked to the water, watching it flow, hearing its sound. He also heard Yunho’s footsteps coming closer, and when he turned his head again, the man was standing much closer to him. The warmth and his smell was almost too much too take, he felt like his knees were going to buckle at any moment - Yunho was just so sweet. And he wasn’t referring to his personality.

Yunho smiled, and the expression Mingi made must have been funny to him because he smiled even more, as if he was pleased. “You look like you could use some company.”

Never in his vampiric life had Mingi heard those words coming out from someone’s mouth - much less a human’s.

Yunho truly hadn’t been joking about that, because after that night, every time Mingi went to the river, the farmer was either already there or he would show up minutes after. 

Mingi would stand next to a tree or by the flow of water, and Yunho would sit down on a rock or crouch to the ground. Mingi didn’t talk much, but Yunho was almost eager to fill the silence every time.

“So, Mingi. What do you do for a living?” 

Mingi had not graced that question with an answer, because what was he supposed to say? That he was a cold blooded monster that fed off people, killing them? No, he absolutely could not.

Yunho hummed at the silence, turning his head to look at Mingi, his brown eyes shining. “Well, I’m a farmer, though you knew that already,” he offered. “How come I never see you in the city during the day? I go there at least thrice a week, even if I do not like it.” 

Mingi huffed slightly at that, and if he were a human it could have looked like a sigh. To Yunho, it probably had, because Mingi pretended to breathe in his presence. Just to not alarm him. 

“I’m more the night type, you could say.” Mingi replied at last, giving only half of the truth. “Why do you stay out at night?” He added, genuinely curious. He didn’t remember much of his human days, but even then, he couldn’t understand why someone would stay out when it was dark.

Yunho looked surprised by the question - not because of its nature itself, but because Mingi hadn’t asked him a single thing until that night. He smiled like he was telling a tale. “Well, for starters I like the stars, you know? The constellations, the galaxies, all of it. I like the night sky,” then, he looked down to the gravelled dirt, his expression dropping a little. “During the day I have to work. I cannot think about anything else. If I do, my father reprimands me. And I understand, I really do, we have to cultivate food for a living and all, but sometimes I can’t help but think that it’s just so, so tiring.”

Mingi could understand, sort of. He didn’t exactly have to work for a living, but he did have to feed almost every day. And it really was tiring, living while constantly being hungry. Although it wasn’t exactly the same thing, maybe he just wanted to be able to get Yunho so he could selfishly get closer to him. 

“The townspeople hate me, they think I bring bad luck, bad news, bad everything. And I love the quiet,” Yunho added, lifting his gaze again to look at Mingi straight in the eyes. Yunho didn’t get scared when he looked at Mingi’s black eyes - it was refreshing, in a sense. “You’re quiet, Mingi. I like you.” He concluded, simply as that, smiling. When Yunho smiled, his eyes crinkled at the sides and it was like his whole demeanour brightned. 

It was the first time Mingi did not feel inclined to hurt a human being. Instead, there was a small ache in his chest, not quite a fond one, but something close to it. “You’re the first one to say that.” He replied honestly. Humans had always found him uncanny, creepy, outright monstrous. And he could not blame them.

“I mean it.” Yunho’s tone was even more honest, like his expression. Vulnerably laid bare in front of someone that wasn’t even a person. Only a fool could do that, for a real monster would have taken advantage of that. 

But Mingi, in his almost century of living, found himself barely smiling for the first time. 

“Ah! He smiles!” Yunho exclaimed, pointing to him with his finger with a teasing face. Mingi’s quirk of lips fell immediately after, causing a groan out of the other. However, his eyes had the first small hint of warmth in them - an incredible feat, considering that Mingi’s body shouldn’t have, by any measurable means, been able to show warmth.

Several weeks later, winter left, along with its icy cold, and left space to spring. It didn’t make much difference to Mingi, who only went out with the dark, but Yunho told him every night about his day eagerly. The sun was brighter, warmer, apparently. Flowers bloomed, animals were livelier, and the fields could finally grow something. Working with the dirt didn’t hurt Yunho’s hands anymore, he didn’t have to dig deep into the frozen ice until his skin cracked, peeled off and bled. His nails wouldn’t get broken, they wouldn’t hurt. 

His father was the same though, strict and harsh, Yunho always told Mingi with a bittersweet tone.

“Does your father not love you?” Mingi had asked him one night. He watched as Yunho’s face turned into a frown, mulling the question over. Mingi didn’t exactly care about the farmer, but he didn’t dislike him either - which for him was quite impressive. So, he couldn’t understand how another human being could not like him.

“It’s not that he doesn’t love me,” Yunho eventually answered. “He’s just…my mother was stoned alive, she was accused of being a witch. Like, soon after birthing me,” the tone was low, as if he was ashamed of it. But Mingi didn’t care about shame, he was far more interested in the boy’s sad hint underneath it. Mingi didn’t even know if witches were actually real, but if they were, they didn’t deserve to burn. And if they did, Mingi deserved far worse. 

“And I’m the only son he has, there isn’t anyone before me, that’s a big problem.” He continued, stating the phrase like a matter-of-fact, lowering his eyes. Progenies were the only richness for farmers, hence why having only one was considered a disgrace. “I get why he doesn’t want to have do deal with me.” He was always so honest with Mingi, and the vampire couldn’t grasp why.

After that, there was silence. Mingi didn’t know comfort, it had never been given to him, therefore he couldn’t offer it back. Still, even if he didn’t understand why, he wasn’t fond of seeing Yunho sad. 

“You said you like the stars, right?” He asked instead, though it was more a rhetorical question. He observed Yunho looking up at the stars every night - his neck in full sight, baring his veins without even knowing the dager of doing so in Mingi’s presence. “Do you have a favourite constellation?” 

Yunho didn’t comment on the change of topic, on the other hand he sheepishly smiled at the question, his cheeks easily reddening due to their pale colour. “Ah, well. Yes I do love the stars, but I don’t really know anything about them, their names, positions, and the rest. I just enjoy looking at them.” 

Mingi wasn’t surprised about that. Education was reserved for those who could afford it, so, royalty. Surely not farmers, the lowest part of society.

“I see,” he hesitated briefly, then spoke again. “I…I know something. I could show you? Tell you about it?” He wasn’t an expert or anything of the sort, but he did have a lot of free time during his years of living as an immortal. He had gotten - stolen - several books, and astronomy was one of the subjects he had read about. Despite not knowing why he was offering his little knowledge to a human, and it was exactly that human’s reaction that made him decide he had said the right thing for once.

Yunho’s eyes widened at the words, his smile bright like Mingi had never seen before. “Really!? You would?”

Mingi nodded, his dark hair swaying with his head. “It is not much, but-“ 

“Thank you!” Yunho exclaimed, cutting Mingi off. The vampire couldn’t even be mad about that while he fought back a little smile of his own. The farmer looked like a puppy more than a twenty-something years old man.

“So,” Mingi murmured, tilting his own head upward. “Do you see that bright star? The brightest that there is. That’s Polaris.” 

“I see…stars. How can I tell them apart?” Yunho’s voice rang out, and Mingi looked back at him. On the big rock, the farmer was looking up, squinting at the sky as if the stars themselves would tell him their name. Admittedly, Mingi didn’t know how to show him the constellations. The two of them would have to have the same point of view in order to do that.

“Wait, don’t we have to look from the same angle?” Yunho supplied immediately after. Then, he scooted closer to the edge of the rock, leaving some space. His intention was clear, but he openly invited the vampire nonetheless, “Come sit here. You can show me directly.”

Mingi looked at the empty spot, hesitating. Sitting so close to a human who was so warm, he was scared he wouldn’t be able to control himself. At the end of the day, Mingi was just a blood sucking monster. 

“Come on, I promise I don’t bite.” Yunho insisted with a small smile, and the irony pressed tightly against Mingi’s ribs. Slowly - more than necessary, probably - Mingi made his way to the rock, sitting next to the other. He didn’t flinch at the cold hitting his thighs, but he shuttered slightly at the closeness with another body. A body of someone who was alive.

“You’re so cold.” Yunho muttered in contempt, but Mingi avoided the comment entirely. Instead, he looked up again, signaling the farmer to do the same. 

“So, do you see that big, spoon-shaped asterism? Like a big group of stars. That is the Big Dipper, Polaris’ constellation.” Mingi inhaled sharply - force of natural past habit more than an actual need - at Yunho putting his cheek extremely close to his own.
“I…I think I do, yes.”

“You need to find the two stars that form the external edge of the Big Dipper. Imagine a bowl, those two are the side that are opposite to the handle.” Mingi continued and after some moments Yunho nodded. “The one on the top is called Dubhe, while the one on the bottom is Merak. If you want, I can tell you the history of the names later. Imagine a line that goes from Merak to Dubhe.” 

Yunho exhaled, as if speaking would break his concentration. 

“Continue that imaginary line north-“ 

“Where’s north?” Yunho interrupted, an hint of shame in his voice. Mingi just explained without judgement, because who was he to judge a human ten times purer than he was. “Upwards, north is upwards. So, go up with your eyes for a while, keep in mind that line, that distance between Dubhe and Merak,” Mingi paused briefly, waiting for Yunho to do just that. “Do you see that bright star? That’s Polaris, the North Star.”

“I see it! It’s so beautiful Mingi!” Yunho awed, and Mingi did not fight his smile this time. 

“Polaris is also the last star of another constellation called the Little Dipper. From Polaris, go to the left, there are three stars in an handle-looking line, and four stars in the main body. It is fainter than the Big Dipper, but you should be able to locate it anyway.”

“Oh, I see it! I see it!” Yunho awed once again, and it was like hearing an excited kid. “Could you tell me where the names of those stars come from?” 

And from that moment, Mingi’s heart - that should have been unmoving and cold - warmed up for the first time in many, many years. He felt something that wasn’t pure, unfiltered hunger. 

And it was all thanks to Yunho.

An year went by. Months passed and seasons changed, but the unrelenting feeling in Mingi’s chest when he was with Yunho didn’t. Despite his best judgment, he had grown incredibly fond of the farmer and Yunho, for his part, also seemed to enjoy Ming’s presence. He never asked questions about things Mingi wouldn’t have been able to answer - for instance, why could they only meet at night, or why he was stone cold. 

He never looked at him with fear or fright, instead his eyes were always full of curiosity and Mingi swore they sparkled. Those big, brown eyes had light in them - how was that possible, Mingi didn’t know, but he knew he wanted to see that sparkle forever. Yunho laughed often, too - the sound sound resonated in Mingi’s bones, lulling and full. He would always ask about something related to the stars or the sky, and Mingi told him everything he knew. Because who was Mingi to say no to him?

His father had also fallen sick, Yunho told Mingi he would get up at night in a sweat, or cough until he spit blood. Yunho said his father had lost a lot of weight and he always had a chest pain. Yunho didn’t know what he had, but he didn’t seem too concerned about it. Mingi knew exactly what it was, based on the symptoms, but he wasn’t concerned either. Tuberculosis. He couldn’t care less about that man, instead he despised him to the core. 

“My father is about to die, I think,” Yunho had told him one night while picking his broken nails and looking at him with a small frown. “I should be worried, sad. I feel nothing. Does…does that make me a bad person, Mingi?”

“You are everything but a mean person. Your brain is only answering to how he treated you all your life.” Mingi answered calmly, while in reality he wanted nothing more than to shake some sense into the farmer. Yunho deserved only kindness in his life - Mingi would have killed his father long before if only it wouldn’t have left all the weight of working to Yunho.

“I don’t get how you do it,” Yunho said then, with a small smile. “You always seem so calm. You always are. I envy you.”

“There is nothing to envy about me, trust my words.”

Truthfully, Mingi did feel a little guilty to hide his true nature to the man, but he didn’t have any other choice. He was sure Yunho would be terrified to know that Mingi was the reason why people had been disappearing in the town almost every night.

Sometimes they blamed it on the wolves, sometimes they blamed it on poor women who would get accused of being witches and end up burning alive, sometimes they would blame it on the Devil himself. In reality it was Mingi who, as a full vampire, had to feed.

Some nights, he could barely maintain his composure in front of Yunho. Especially in summertime, when the man was less dressed and showed more skin. His essence made Mingi go crazy, for he craved him, all of him, all for himself. Himself and no one else, no one else in the world. Celestial rules or anything close be damned, Mingi wouldn’t allow a single soul to touch Yunho - to even look at him for too long.

One particular time, Yunho had shown up later than the usual. Mingi had been waiting for him leaning against a tree, mindlessly looking at the water, dozing off to the sound of the river. Then he heard it, that same heartbeat, except that this time it was faster, almost exhilarated - along with some soft sniffles sounds. His attention was immediately caught, and he straightened just when Yunho appeared from the usual dark road of the forest. 

Instead of smiling like he always did, he kept his head down, sobbing slightly - the motion made Mingi’s heart lodge into his throat. “Yunho? What happened?”

The farmer didn’t lift his eyes nor speak again, instead he looked at the river just like Mingi had been doing a few minutes prior. Monsters were monsters, but they always found a princess they wanted to protect. Mingi was Mingi, but he had found someone to protect. 

He slowly stepped forward, not fast enough to startle Yunho, but slow enough to stop if the other wanted him to. “What happened to you?” He murmured again, and slowly brought an hand to Yunho’s chin - freezing cold in contrast to Yunho’s warm skin - forcing them to lock eyes. And oh, the sight made Mingi’s, non existent, blood boil. 

Yunho’s eyes shined with tears, though his body was trembling like he felt ashamed of doing such an action. They were red and puffy, meaning he had been crying for a while, and his lips trembled. But those elements weren’t what made Mingi outraged no, it was the nasty, blooming bruise on his left cheek. The vampire’s vision zeroed on the hit, and he had to dig the nails of his free hand into his palm so he wouldn’t hurt Yunho with the other that was holding his face. 

“Who…who did this?” The question was no more than a whisper as he let Yunho go, his hand falling limply to his side.

Yunho didn’t answer immediately. He just embraced Mingi with an urgency that left no room for doubt, and the vampire froze at the contact. How long had it been since he had been hugged? Yunho’s forehead was pressed against Mingi’s neck, and he could feel the coolness of his tears soaking his cloak. Slowly, impossibly so, Mingi wrapped his own arms around the other. 

They stayed like that for a long time, even after Yunho’s sobs had slowed down. Mingi could feel Yunho’s heartbeat directly against his ribcage, and he shuddered internally so many times he lost count.  

“My father. It was my father. Him being sick is making his actions even worse,” Yunho told him while still being laced to the vampire. “And I know I should be used to it, I really do. I know it is embarrassing to cry at twenty-six years old, but it just hurts.” 

Never in his life had Mingi wanted to kill someone that bad. But he couldn’t, because that would scare Yunho away. It would make things worse. It would reveal who he truly was. 

So, he kept his identity secret, locked away in a dark place. If Yunho discovered it and ran away to warn the townspeople, Mingi would be forced to kill him, and he would never forgive himself for it. 

His nature would be hidden forever. 

Until it wasn’t.

“So, what does Arcturus actually mean?” Yunho asked him a night of summer, his voice full of awe like it was every time Mingi showed him more stars in the sky.

Next to him, sat on the rock, Mingi smiled at the excited tone. “It means Guardian of the Bear. It represents strenght, protection,” he got up, stepping away from the rock while pretending to stretch his legs. In reality he was just starting to get overwhelmed by Yunho’s warmth. “It is like a guide for the people in the sea, you know?”

No, Yunho didn’t know, and that was why he hung at every word that came out of Mingi’s lips. 

“I already told you that it is part of Boötes, yes?” Mingi continued, tilting his own head up ot look at the sky. “That is-“

“Mingi.” Yunho’s voice sounded wrong when he cut the vampire off, it was devoid of any joy that had previously been back there. Mingi’s eyes immediately snapped to him, concern edging his words. “What happened?”

Yunho’s gaze was now fixated on the river rather that on Mingi. There was an hint of fear in them and it made Mingi’s stomach churn.

“Why isn’t there your reflection in the water?”

Something ugly stirred inside Mingi, dread settling down on him. Horror and nausea swirled together, and he couldn’t get a single word out. He could only stare at Yunho, who slowly lifted his eyes to look straight at him. He repeated the question again, more urgently yet, somehow, devoid of accusation. “Mingi, why isn’t there your reflection in the water?”

Mingi didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, and for a second they were the same pair who had met one random night, and Yunho was the only who filled the silence. 

“You don’t show in the water,” Yunho whispered, and suddenly Mingi remembered just how frail a living being actually was. “You-“ 

“No,” Mingi stepped back. “You did not see that.” For all his selfishness and hypocrisy, Mingi would lie until it was useless. He didn’t want to show the truth, he didn’t want for Yunho to go away, he couldn’t bear to kill him. He just couldn’t. 

But Yunho shook his head softly, impossibly calmer than Mingi. “But I did. I did, Mingi.” 

“I never meant for you to know,” Mingi swore up and down. He would beg on his knees and discard his futile vampiric ego if it meant keeping Yunho close. “I never-“ 

Yunho interrupted him yet again, as if he had to spit the truth out because Mingi wouldn’t. “You’re cold, like a corpse. You only come out at night. You’re unnaturally quiet and unnaturally calm, just like a-“ he inhaled sharply, like he was grounding himself. He looked straight in Mingi’s eyes, and the vampire felt like someone had trapped him in silver chains and tightened them. “What are you?”

There it was, the question he had avoided for a year and some months. And really, Mingi wanted to go away, to hide like a coward, to deny everything. But Yunho didn’t deserve any of that - Mingi was already a monster for his existence itself, he would be even more so if he lied to someone like Yunho.

After a short, or long - he didn’t know - silence, he finally answered. “A monster. If my nature was kinder, I would call myself something else. But it is not. So I will not.”

And even after that, Yunho was still looking at him like he hung the same stars he so deeply loved. Then, he stepped closer, and Mingi swore he could feel the tears stinging his eyes. Vampires could not bleed, but they could cry. 

“Do not.” 

“Why?” Yunho immediately shot back, and Mingi recoiled. “Because you’ll kill me?” 

“I would never allow myself to.” Mingi’s response was automatic, for he had though about it over and over since the first day he had casted his eyes on the farmer. 

“Then, you should have told me.” Yunho murmured, eyes falling like he was sad. Mingi wanted to scream, to tell him he had gotten it all wrong, that he had chosen to not tell him because he was false, not the other way around. 

Before he knew it, Yunho was standing right in front of him, making them face each other. “You are a monster to yourself, but to me, you simply are.” 

Mingi just stared at him in utter shock, his lips ever parting a little. What could he even say to words like that? What could he feel that wasn’t utter devotion towards Yunho? The only reasonable thing that was coming to his mind was get on his knees and worship the man right in front of him. 

But Yunho had always a way to surprise him, it seemed, for the next words he said sent the vampire’s brain into overdrive even more. “Can I kiss you?”

The world tilted - his world tilted. For a moment, Mingi couldn’t understand the words in language, they struck him in sensation instead, as if a thunder had hit him right there and then. He sensed Yunho’s heartbeat pick up, the heat behind his eyes growing, his lips quivering slightly. Mingi had fought years and years of hunger with steadier resolve than that question.

To kiss him. After knowing. After seeing the truth not reflected in the small river. 

And he knew he should refuse, should vanish, should push Yunho away and disappear in the dark and let that be the last mercy he gave him for knowing his true nature. But Mingi was a selfish being, so, he nodded. 

“If…if you wish.” The words came out rough, as if someone had pulled them out of his throat with bare hands.

Yunho exhaled like a massive weight had been lifted of his shoulders, then leaned in slowly, giving Mingi every chance to change his mind. Mingi didn’t. How could he, when a human offering his love to him was the most caring yet forbidden act a man could commit? Mingi, a sin made concrete, couldn’t do anything but love him back just as much.

Their lips met softly. What followed immediately after wasn’t as soft. 

The heat - God, the heat - flooded Mingi, Yunho’s lips were soft and real and undeniably alive against his own. Mingi’s control shattered - he deepened the kiss, hungry and vivid. His hand grabbed Yunho’s waist to pull him closer as if he needed him like he needed blood, while Yunho’s fingers came up to grasp Mingi’s dark locks. 

Mingi had wanted this for a year. Or maybe no, maybe it had been longer. He had wanted this the moment Yunho had looked at him without fear.

When they parted, Mingi didn’t dare open his eyes, for he was scared Yunho would disappear. The touch of Yunho’s forehead against his cold one brought him back to reality, and he begrudgingly looked at the farmer. 

“You feel cold, but you kiss like someone who loves.” 

Mingi knew for a fact he was completely lost in the other from that sentence alone. He put some distance between them, barely enough for his hand to cup Yunho’s face. He never thought that monsters such as himself could be capable of such sweetness, of such gentleness.

“You are too pure for a kind like mine,” he murmured, his touch tender but his sentence less so. “You will get destroyed. If not by me directly, then by the world’s hatred.” He stroked his thumb over Yunho’s skin, feeling the softness of it. The sentence wasn’t a threat, it was a simple plea.

But Yunho just smiled, like he smiled when they talked about stars and constellations, about Arcturus, Vega or Rigel. And for the second time since he had known him, Mingi thought that only a fool could give such trust freely to someone unknown. The worse part was that now Yunho knew fully well what Mingi was, and yet he still trusted him. 

“Then love me now, Mingi. Love me while I am still here.” He answered at last, his own hand going up to softly grasp Mingi’s on his face, unbothered by the coldness of his fingers. “We have time, after all.”

They didn’t. 

It all came crashing down one fateful night, barely two months after. Yunho came running so fast that Mingi had heard his heavy breathing from far, far away. Yunho stumbled down the dark road, nearly slipping into the mud but catching himself in time. When they met eyes, Mingi couldn’t even get a single word out before the farmer crushed into his chest, wrapping his arms around him and clutching his cloak like it was the only thing keeping him alive. 

The bitter irony.

Mingi hugged him back instantly, for he had learned the man would always look for physical touch. Hugs, pats, small kisses - it did not matter, Yunho deeply craved them all. And who was Mingi to deny him that? The only exception was blood - no matter how much Yunho wanted to offer himself to him, Mingi always denied. Because he knew he would get addicted to it, and he would never willingly put his life at risk. Even if the risk was himself - especially if that were the case.

“Mingi.” Yunho chocked on his name.

Mingi cradled the back of his head softly, pressing his forehead into his shoudler. Yunho was shaking violently, and the vampire could feel his heartbeat spiking up so hard he could be on the verge of a cardiac arrest. But it wasn’t cold what Mingi sensed no, it was fear. Horror. It was close to what he felt from the people he sucked dry before burying them underground, forever cold like himself. 

“What has happened?” He demanded softly, as softly as he could manage with his own worry stabbing him in the gut.

“I- they-“ Yunho tried to speak, and failed. His lungs refused to cooperate and his breath hitched so much he was close to throwing up. 

“Yunho, listen to me my dear. You need to calm down.” Mingi soothed, softly passing his fingers through the other’s brown hair in attempt to quieten him. 

Yunho swallowed hard, wrapping himself more tightly to Mingi. “They…they said I carry her blood. That I go out at night.”

Mingi’s mind immediately made the first connection - his mother. Yunho’s mother. The very reason the accusations had followed the farmer until birth - the witch’s only son, tainted and unclear. 

The second connection dawned upon him harsher than any single thing in his life had.

“No,” he said at once. “They cannot…” 

“They have,” Yunho whispered, and Mingi swore a part of him was physically aching at the words. “They have condemned me. But  I- I will not be stoned like my mother.” He said, his voice cracking while trying to add something else that would, somehow, make it hurt less. “I will be burnt at the stake.” 

It didn’t make it hurt less. Not even close. Not even Mingi’s turning had hurt so bad - in contrast he felt like he was dying all over again, a piece of him being ripped away from his flesh. The first time it had been his humanity, now it was his humanity again, but worse. Loving Yunho was the most human thing Mingi had ever done. And apparently, the most damning for them both.

Mingi pulled him closer, his eyes fixated on the river as if it could swallow the moment whole.

 “When,” he asked. 

Yunho hesitated at first, then eventually gave in. “Tomorrow. Late in the afternoon.”

Mingi swore he was on the edge of blacking out.  

At night, Mingi could tear kingdoms apart, spread bloodshed and terror - everything to keep who he wanted safe. Everything to keep Yunho safe.

But tomorrow would come with the sun. And Mingi couldn’t go in the sun. Or better, Mingi couldn’t get in the sun because he wouldn’t have enough time to save Yunho. If he did, he would gladly go through the burning of hell, experiencing his skin peeling off layer by layer and his bones turning into dust, if it meant not seeing his dear die. 

“They’ll do it in the square. People will watch, they never liked me,” Yunho hoarsely said, and Mingi bitterly remembered that one of the first times they had talked, he had told him the same words about his reputation. “They said it is justice. They said it is God’s will.” 

“God’s justice is a mere form of punishment and cowardice in the name in superstition. Them be damned, not you.” Mingi felt the primal urge to kill, to burn the whole village to the ground before they could lay a single hand on Yunho. 

He forced it down. If he went near the square at dawn, revealing himself that night, they would haunt them both before the sun even rose. Pain tore him apart, and he suddenly felt human again. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Yunho whispered. “I should have not come to you. I just- I didn’t know where else-“ 

“Do not apologise. Never in general, but especially never for this.” Mingi’s voice was low and absolute. If else, he should be the one apologising and begging for forgiveness on his knees, for he had dragged Yunho into his life. 

Yunho’s lips were wobbly, “My mother was stoned. I was a child, but I remember the screams. The blood. I remember the way they watched. This,” he touched the scar that crossed his eyebrow, “Is from a stone someone threw at me.”

“I will not let them, I swear to you-“ 

Mingi was cut off by a press of wet lips against his. When Yunho pulled back, he looked at Mingi straight in the eyes. “Don’t. I don’t want you burning. I don’t want you to die- I do not want you to die for me, to die with me. You- you have to live, Mingi. You have to.” He pleaded, getting more desperate with each passing second. “They know about you. Not about your nature, but they know you only walk at night. They think you lured me. You did not, I love you- I love you so much it hurts. I don’t want to burn, I don’t want to die! It will sting, it already does!” Yunho gripped again Mingi’s cloak with both hands. “But I want you to go on.”

Mingi was at a loss for words, he could only stare at Yunho in shock. 

“You have an eternity in front of you,” Yunho concluded. He was still sniffing and trembling, but his tone had an authority it had never had. “Promise me you will not try to save me.” 

“You cannot ask me to-“

“Promise me!” Yunho’s voice cracked. Silence then feel between them, suffocating. 

What was Mingi supposed to say? That he did have an eternity in front of him, but that he did not want to live it without Yunho by his side? Could a human even comprehend that?

“I…I promise,” Mingi rasped instead, then added another thing. “I love you too, my dear. I am so sorry.” 

They stood by the river until the moon sunk lower in the sky, until Polaris disappeared completely. In Mingi’s head, every single one of Yunho’s heartbeats was a countdown he could not stop. Oh, how it ached deeply in his bones.

The townspeople, they never heard it, that was the cruelest part.  

The stares and looks and prayers were too loud, their so called faith was too eager. Fear and a twisted sense of expectation drowned everything else. 

But the afternoon sun heard him.

And so did Mingi, hidden in the shadows.

While he burned, Yunho’s voice tore out of him, ragged and angry, so much that it could only come from love. 

“You think you’re right, you think this will save you,” he had a fury in speaking while his skin was starting to blister and peel off that no normal human should have been able to have. “I give you rot! May your children be haunted by fear, may your souls be haunted by my ghost.” 

He started full on sobbing, but he couldn’t even cry anymore for his face couldn’t even resemble a proper face anymore. It was just muscle, and blood. And the sickening smell of burnt. “May this place be forgotten and never know peace!”

Then, in small, he added a last thing with a frail voice, dying. “And you who love me, I hope that my soul find yours again, I will choose you forever.”

And with that, Yunho exhaled his last agonising breath, nothing but ash remaining in his place. He had not begged for peace - the one who had was the vampire, the monster.

Mingi, whose heart could be ripped from him in that moment and he would not feel a single thing. His dear had been torn away, and with him the last piece of what he didn’t know had been still human. 

For Yunho had been a gentle soul in live but vengeful in death, and Mingi planned to do the same. Except that Mingi wasn’t a soul, he had a willing mind and body. 

And he would drown himself in despair and others in anger as long as he had them.