Work Text:
"—Wonbin! Hello? I'm about to call someone in here, I swear—"
Wonbin's eyes snapped open, transitioning from sleep to awareness in an instant. He immediately zoned in on Chanyoung's frantic voice coming from his bedside, louder than he'd ever heard him speak before.
Ignoring Chanyoung, Wonbin took a moment to marvel at his condition. He was sure he'd wake up to a punishing hangover with how much he drank the night before, but his head was clearer than ever, not even plagued by the dregs of sleep. Most notably, the ever-present ache in his back was nowhere to be found. It felt like his body was brand new.
"That's Wonbin-hyung, to you," he said, hopping out of bed and making his way to the closet to pick out some clothes for the day. No need to look a gift horse in the mouth, he supposed. Rather than dwelling on this strange fortune, Wonbin would use his luck wisely and give it his all during dance practice that day.
Chanyoung stayed where he was, incredulous, "Hyung, I have been trying to wake you up for five minutes. I had to check if you were even breathing. You looked dead."
"Relax, I got back late last night," Wonbin said absentmindedly as he considered which hoodie to grab. He assumed he did anyways. Their rare nights out always panned out the same way; Wonbin resolves to have a single drink, Eunseok goads him into a competition, Shotaro drinks him under the table, and Sungchan has to make sure he makes it back to the dorm alive. Still, he would never get wasted enough to black out. The blank space in his memory from their arrival at the bar to this morning was unnerving.
Chanyoung's lips pulled into an teasing grin at Wonbin's explanation, his worry apparently forgotten. "Yeah, you definitely did, " he acquiesced. Wonbin didn't like his tone of voice. "Hurry up and get ready to leave, or I'm going to tell the managers leave without you." He punctuated his warning with a stern, pointed finger and took his leave.
Wonbin gathered his things and left for the bathroom, which was blessedly empty, one of the few perks of waking up late. He peeled off his clothes, which were the same ones he was wearing the night before. Wonbin cringed; he must have really overdone it last night.
As he finished undressing, Wonbin caught a glimpse of red in the mirror. Upon looking closer, he spotted two tiny red wounds on the side of his neck, lined up nearly vertical. The skin had been broken, but the marks were neat and didn't seem irritated.
Sighing, Wonbin ended his inspection and stepped into the shower. He loathed filming outdoors for this very reason. The group had been subjected to one such shoot the day prior, and he was constantly swatting at bugs in between takes. His mom would joke that Wonbin must taste like honey with the way insects always seemed to be drawn to him.
He finished up in the bathroom and hurried for the front door, grabbing an apple on his way out. Wonbin really needed a proper breakfast, considering the physical exertion he was about to endure, but there was simply no time. It was better than nothing. As promised, one of the vans was already gone by the time he made it outside. The other honked impatiently.
Sungchan and Shotaro greeted Wonbin once he slid into the back seat. Seunghan, playing a game on his phone in the passenger seat, gave what might have been a grunt of acknowledgement, and their manager pulled off immediately. Wonbin cringed away from the window as the car emerged from the shade of the dorm building. Despite the early hour, the sun seemed to be out in force.
Shotaro twisted around in his seat, ignoring ever car safety rule in the process, to grin at Wonbin. "How's your hangover, Wonbin-ah?"
"Don't have one," he answered truthfully, biting into his apple.
"Yeah, sure," Shotaro laughed. "You literally passed out on your way to the bathroom in the bar last night. Sungchan had to go hunt you down and princess carry you to the car."
Wonbin swallowed his bite of apple with difficulty. It tasted like styrofoam. "Carry me?" he sputtered, mortified. Wonbin glanced at Sungchan for confirmation, and got only a sheepish smile in response. He groaned, hiding his head in his hands.
Shotaro hummed an affirmative, delighted to tell him the story of last night, "And when you didn't wake up in the car, he carried you all the way up to your room."
Of course he did, Wonbin scoffed. Sungchan could've just slapped him awake and made him walk on his own. But no, the man was too nice for his own good, and Wonbin has seen how much he could bench. He probably didn't even break a sweat doing it. Wonbin almost regretted being unconscious for the duration.
"It's really no big deal," Sungchan stressed. "We're all tired, it probably just wasn't a good idea to go out last night. For any of us," he said diplomatically.
"For sure," agreed Shotaro. "My head is killing me."
"You say that," mumbled Wonbin, still wishing the seat cushions would swallow him up. "But you're going to dance like a maniac for the next ten hours anyway."
As it turned out, Wonbin would be the one dancing like a maniac this time. Their instructor called for a late lunch break, but Wonbin remained where he was, going full-out with their new choreography. It was amazing, he felt as though he had a bottomless well of energy where he was usually running on empty.
"Wonbin-hyung, come order some food," Sohee shouted, waving his phone around.
"I'm alright," he said and meant it. He kept his eyes trained on the mirror, refining his movements and trying and failing to think of a dish that sounded appealing at the moment. Nothing came to mind. Wonbin was happy to stay in the zone and keep his body moving until the rest of the group began practicing again.
"It's been hours, are you sure you're not hungry?" Sungchan appeared in the mirror beside him, brandishing a bottle of water. "At least sit down for a minute, you're going to collapse."
Wonbin sincerely doubted that, but he mumbled his thanks for the water and downed it gratefully. The rest of the group did look a bit worse for wear, now that he looked closely. Sungchan had a sheen of sweat across his forehead, and his thin shirt clung stubbornly to his body. His breaths came quick even after several minutes of rest, and his veins were prominent from the repeated strain of his muscles. Sungchan tilted his head to the side, and Wonbin could practically see the warm blood racing through his body, through the vessels in his neck, just underneath the skin. His mouth watered.
What?
Wonbin blinked, suddenly conscious of Sungchan's puzzled stare. By no means was he a stranger to appreciating Sungchan's visuals—group member or not, he was an attractive guy, and Wonbin was only human—but his thoughts have never been quite so... strange before. Maybe he needed to sit down after all.
⁂
The next morning, Wonbin felt like he had been hit by a truck. He'd never had a hangover with a time delay before, but there was no other explanation for why his body just broke down on him. He slumped in the makeup chair, wondering just how he would muster up to energy to have any sort of personality for the content the group was about to film.
The makeup noona seemed to notice his poor mood. "Cheer up, Wonbin-ah, almost done," she said, painting his lips a dusky red. "You always make my job easy. And you're so pale today! You'll have to be careful out there in the sun, maybe I'll snag a hat for you from the wardrobe..."
They were filming variety content for YouTube, some sort of sports day themed series. Any other day, Wonbin would be excited at the chance to show off and compete, but he just didn't feel up to it at the moment. His head ached like he was dehydrated, even though he had drank more than enough water the day prior. His usual healthy appetite never made its appearance, but he was so constantly thirsty. Wonbin wondered if he was getting sick. That would be a nightmare.
Still, work was work, so he powered through and left the makeup tent to take his place in front of the camera, lined up with the rest of his members. They stood on a grassy field outfitted with soccer goals and a rack of track hurdles just out of frame (how he wished he had the energy to absolutely dust the others in a race). Wonbin was thankful for the smattering of clouds in the sky, as there was little else to block out the sunlight other than some far off trees and open-face tents for the members to sit and chat in, on camera of course.
The director signaled, and Sungchan clapped and began to introduce the concept of the day. Wonbin didn't have any lines to say in this section, so he cheered and clapped when the others did, and nodded his agreement at random. His mind was in a fog, and all he could seem to focus on was the heat blazing down on them from the sky.
They broke off into teams for the first activity, a soccer shootout. Wonbin jogged sluggishly behind the others to line up near the goal. By the time it was Wonbin's turn to shoot, he could barely see the ball in front of him. As he lined up for a kick, the world around him brightened unbearably. Moments later, he understood why: the clouds had parted to allow the sunlight to shine down in full. He stared at the sky unseeingly as muted footfalls sounded out all around him.
"Wonbin, Wonbin, hey. Can you hear me?" His view of the sky was replace by distant trees as his head was lifted gently from the grass. Oh, he was on the ground.
"Looks like heat exhaustion. Let's get him into the shade, quickly."
Wonbin was lifted up as arms curled underneath his shoulders and the backs of his knees. He caught a whiff of the warm musk of Sungchan's cologne along with a sweet smell that he couldn't quite identify but was so undeniably Sungchan. Wonbin relaxed, lulled into a half-sleep as Sungchan carried him to safety for the second time that week.
He felt it the instant they crossed the threshold of an air-conditioned trailer, when the infernal blaze above him was replaced by a neutral metal ceiling. The cool air felt like a balm against his skin, and Wonbin could already feel himself regaining consciousness now that he was protected from the horrid brightness outside.
A few icepacks later, Wonbin was feeling just fine, a little cold even. His temperature plummeted after just a few moments of pressing them to his skin, like his body didn't want to stay warm at all. Still, he had to sit through an impassioned lecture on the dangers of heat-related illness from his manager, who chided him for not speaking up the moment he felt symptoms. Wonbin could admit that pushing through filming despite feeling faint wasn't the wisest of decisions, but the possibility of heat exhaustion never even entered his mind. After all, who passed out after 20 minutes outside in 24 degree weather?
Regardless, the schedule was postponed. Wonbin felt sick with guilt when he received the news. He begged to continue with filming, but after a minute in the sunlight had his eyelids fluttering once again, he was carted to the hospital for an IV drip and ordered to rest for the remainder of the day.
The members still seemed shaken when he was finally dropped off at the dorm, no matter how much Wonbin insisted he was fine.
"I told you, you've been pushing yourself too hard," Sungchan said, steering him to the dining room table the moment he slipped off his shoes.
"I've been pushing myself as much as I need to," he corrected. Wonbin couldn't just rest now that he'd debuted. If anything, he needed to work harder to maintain and surpass the expectations placed on him, to prove he had skills beyond his pretty face. "I just need to rehydrate and get some sleep."
"Wrong," said Eunseok, entering from the kitchen with a steaming bowl. "You need to eat. Don't think we haven't noticed." Wonbin was, in fact, hoping they hadn't. He hadn't had an appetite at all in the last couple days, and though he did choke down a couple protein bars here and there, he knew he wasn't getting anywhere near the calories he needed. He'd avoided the members during mealtimes for fear of not even being able to stomach a full plate of food.
He eyed the meal placed in front of him with dread. Eunseok had clearly cooked it himself, and as much as Wonbin wanted to reassure everyone, just the thought of eating had his insides twisting.
"I'm fine, seriously," he tried to stand, but Sungchan's iron grip on his shoulder held him in place. "I just want to go to bed."
"Wonbin," said Sungchan, disappointed. He had to look away from his sad eyes. "If you don't eat, the same thing will just happen tomorrow. You can't run on empty."
"I used up all of the beef in the fridge making this, you know," added Eunseok, trying for light-hearted. "You're really going to let it go to waste?"
"I appreciate it, I do, I just don't—"
"Just a few bites?" Sungchan bargained. He slid his hand down from Wonbin's shoulder to rub his back comfortingly. "Just eat a little bit, then you can go, okay?"
Wonbin wanted to shove away his hand and leave. He wanted to remind Sungchan that being a half a year older didn't mean he could tell Wonbin what to do. Most of all, he wanted to wipe the look of concern off of his face.
He gripped his chopsticks and took a tentative bite of meat. He had to bite back nausea moment the food hit his tongue. Everything he ate in the days prior had simply been tasteless, but now, he couldn't describe the flavor of the beef as anything other than wrong. His body needed nourishment, but Wonbin couldn't think of a single food that wouldn't turn his stomach. He swallowed quickly, just to get the taste out of his mouth, and set down his chopsticks. He couldn't handle any more.
Wonbin could tell Sungchan was ready to protest, but Eunseok patted him on the shoulder, quietly studying Wonbin's face. "It's fine, sleep can come first. The food will still be good tomorrow."
Wonbin didn't need further prompting. He sped out of the room without looking at Sungchan. Even if the food hadn't made him sick, the look of dejection on Sungchan's face surely would.
⁂
Wonbin woke from a dreamless sleep the next day to an empty dorm. He could tell as much without even leaving the room; there was a certain stillness to the air that simply didn't occur with seven men in one apartment, not to mention the brightness that peaked into the room from the edges of Wonbin's curtains. They typically left before dawn these days.
He yawned, stretching the stiffness out of his arms and checking the time. Past 1pm. He'd slept for nearly 18 hours, yet all he wanted to do was adjust his curtains and curl up in total darkness to fall asleep once more. Sighing, Wonbin forced himself to rise out of bed and head towards the bathroom. His head was pounding, and though he still recoiled at the thought of food, water and painkillers sounded very appealing at the moment.
Wonbin flicked the bathroom lights on with some reluctance. While nowhere near as bad as sunlight, the artificial light of the dorm was especially taxing that afternoon, probably due to his headache.
He was opening up the medicine cabinet behind the mirror when his phone buzzed in his pocket with a text. Pulling it out, Wonbin smiled at the little image of Sungchan that popped up in the preview before expanding the message.
Sungchan-hyung:
hi wonbinnie, hopefully your awake by now. the beef stew from last night is in the fridge, eunseok says it better be gone when we get back or else. i say you don't have to eat it all but at least have a little bit please?
Sungchan-hyung:
practice isn't the same without you :'( aren't you sad you're missing this?
[media attached]
Sungchan had sent a short video. The camera was in selfie mode, angled so that Wonbin had a clear view of the members in the background. He was probably supposed to focus on the way Shotaro seemed to have taken over the practice, insisting they run through the choreography again at 1.5 speed while the rest of the at the members groaned. Wonbin couldn't see anything past Sungchan, his suppressed laughter, his messy sweat-soaked hair, the bob of his throat when he swallowed. Wonbin stared at that last part for just a little too long, letting the video play on loop until he felt an odd pressure in the front of his mouth.
Shaking his head, he put away his phone and resumed his search for the painkillers. Once the pill bottle was in hand, Wonbin closed the cabinet door. The mirror snapped back into place, and he stopped short, staring disbelievingly at his reflection. He reached a hand up to his face to make sure he wasn't imagining things. His thumb came back red. The had skin broken.
Jutting out from his gaping mouth were four pointed fangs.
Wonbin turned away from the mirror, trying and failing to not freak out. Perhaps the most surprising part of this revelation was just how unsurprising it was. His reaction to sunlight, the food aversion, his paleness, it was all explained perfectly. Wonbin belatedly recognized the new sweet smell he noticed wafting from Sungchan as blood and felt ill.
He refused to accept this as reality. How could something like this have even happened to him? There was only one answer. It was that night, the one right before all of his strange symptoms appeared, where he was rendered unconscious somehow and slept like the dead afterward. Wonbin wished he had more information, but his memories were a blank slate, and the other members didn't seem to notice anything amiss. Someone turned him into... into this, and he had no way of figuring out who.
Wonbin glanced back towards his reflection, hoping to find that he was simply going insane and hallucinating. No such luck. Fangs aside, he truly looked undead. The skin around his eyes had gone sunken and dark, and he was several shades paler than the day before, though he doubted he'd get any more compliments from the makeup noonas in this state. His skin had taken on a bluish tinge, and appeared almost translucent with how starkly his veins stood out. His cheek was cool to the touch, and his heart sat still in his chest.
It was too much. Wonbin shut off the lights and hastened back to his room, shutting and locking the door. The members weren't due back for hours, but he was taking no chances on that front. Anxiety and fear and agitation swirled within him and he began to pace. It had only been three days, and his condition had deteriorated this much? His career was over, that much was for sure. Even with the wonders of makeup covering up his corpse-like appearance, his physical condition was similar to that of a corpse as well. Wonbin felt weakened, more fatigued than ever in his life despite getting more sleep the previous night than he has in the past week altogether
Although, there was a still strange energy thrumming beneath his skin, threatening to burst out at the slightest provocation. He was desperate for something, so desperate he would use up the last of his stamina to get it. He was so... thirsty.
Wonbin stopped short. That's right, that was what vampires did, after all. If he wanted to live (was he even alive anymore, really?) he would have to drink someone's blood.
Dazed, he sat on the floor, grappling with what that meant for him. He would have to find someone, to find prey, and attack them. Force his teeth into their neck and feed. He'd have been sick if there was anything in his stomach to heave up.
Wonbin stayed on the floor for a long time. He checked the time sometime later— 3:34pm. His members wouldn't arrive back at the dorm until seven at the earliest. They'd be here, with Wonbin, who...
He had made his decision. Gingerly, Wonbin stood up and made his way to the bed. He carefully situated himself under the covers, aiming to preserve as much warmth as possible, but remained sitting up. If he fell asleep now, who knows when he'd wake back up? No, he needed to stay awake, but save his energy. He'd need it later to hunt (Wonbin's stomach twisted at the word).
It was simple enough, in theory: leave the dorm just after sundown, prowl the streets until he found someone isolated who he could overpower, and let his new teeth do their thing. In reality, there were too many unknown variables for his liking. Wonbin had a feeling he would have no trouble mustering the strength to bite someone once the scent of blood flooded his nostrils, but he wasn't sure what came after. His own attacker had simply sunk his fangs into Wonbin's neck in the back hallway of a crowded bar and fled the scene before anyone took notice. Did a victim always pass out, after being fed from? Did it depend on how much he drank? How did he know when to stop, before he ended up killing the person? Would he be able to?
Wonbin took a deep breath, refusing to go down that route. Like it or not, this was who he was now, what he was. He had to consume blood to survive, so that was what he would do. He was simply too selfish to martyr himself to hypothetically spare the lives of those around him. Struggling through years and years of training, finally getting the chance to debut, to get a taste of success, only to fall asleep and never wake back up a before he even had his first comeback? It was too depressing to consider.
There was the matter of his group, too. If Wonbin didn't go out tonight, he had no idea whether or not his self-control could withstand an entire night with six hot-blooded humans within striking distance. On second thought, Wonbin would die before doing the unthinkable to one of his members.
He sat, still as a corpse, and thought and thought until the sun no longer spared his room even a sliver of light, and Chanyoung texted Wonbin to tell him that they were on the way back, and if he hadn't even the beef stew, he'd better do so now before he had to face Eunseok's wrath. Wonbin shut his phone all the way off. He stood, calmer than he felt capable of, slipped on a mask and beanie, and headed for the door.
⁂
The sun had only just dipped below the horizon when Wonbin stepped outside, but even with the last few rays of light turning the sky a dusky purple, he felt completely comfortable in the fading light. It was good to know that he wouldn't have to skulk around in total darkness whenever he wanted some fresh air for the rest of his life. Oh god, wasn't he immortal now? As he continued in his career, how long until the articles on his seemingly eternal youth turned from praising to suspicious?
There was no time to think about the future. Wonbin had to find a meal tonight if he was to return to the dorms and remain an idol at all. He scanned the streets for easy marks, keeping his head down. He noticed a girl exit a convenience store up ahead, before turning down a solitary street, alone. The location was convenient, and Wonbin was sure he could overpower her but…
He sighed and kept walking. Creature of the night or not, Wonbin didn't want to attack a girl out alone at night. It felt silly to cling to his human morals while quite literally hunting people down, but he resolved to avoid attacking anyone smaller or younger than himself. It felt too wrong.
Wonbin would come to regret that decision as the night wore on. His chances to strike were few and far between even without any self-imposed restrictions. Before long, he found out that he could sus out who would and would not make a suitable meal from a few feet away. Bad blood had a certain sourness to its scent, and he knew that feeding from the sick and the elderly would do him more harm than good.
It was long past midnight when Wonbin spotted a suitable prey (and didn't chicken out before the opportunity was lost). The streets were thinning out, and those that still roamed around tended to do so in groups. One young man stood alone, dipping into the mouth of an alley for privacy as he took a phone call. He was slight, but healthy, and only an inch or two taller than Wonbin. He had a timid air about him, and he didn't seem like the type who was used to getting into fights. His blood smelled fresh and mellow, and it made Wonbin's mouth water. This could work.
Wonbin inched closer, pulling down his mask just enough to expose his mouth. His fangs were fully exposed, immediately having poked past his lips at the prospect of a meal. He leaned against the entranceway of a long-closed restaurant, relying on the foliage of a potted bush to block his silhouette. He would wait for the phone call to end before he struck. The less witnesses the better.
"—I know, I know, but I have to go now. I'll come visit in a few weeks, okay? ...Yes, I'll be careful. Love you, mom. Goodnight." The young man ended the call.
Wonbin knew this was his chance. There was no one else within eyesight, and all of the establishments on the block had closed. The man had his guard completely down, Wonbin could have a hand over his mouth and teeth in his neck before he even realized what was happening. It would be easy, so easy.
But a new worry had entered his mind, one so obvious he can't believe he failed to consider it before. How did a vampire turn a human in the first place? His condition hardly came with a how-to manual, and Wonbin unconsciously assumed there was some intent behind it. But what if a bite was all it took? Would he be condemning this man to the same cursed eternal half-life as him? Could he still bite him, knowing that it was a risk?
The man gathered his composure, and left the alleyway. He didn't even spare Wonbin a glance as he walked by, oblivious to his inner turmoil. On the other side of the street, a group of drunk people spilled out from a taxi, easily within viewing distance. The moment had passed.
Wonbin replaced his mask and started back towards the dorms. He was a fool for believing he make this work. Being an idol during the day, and prowling the streets for his meals every night? Even if he got over his pesky human sensitivities, it was only a matter of time before someone caught a glimpse of something they weren't supposed to. It would never work. Better to rip the band-aid off now, he supposed.
Wonbin opened the front door as slowly as he could, and closed it the same way. He slipped off his shoes and started towards his room, mindful of the creaky floorboards as he went. The entranceway was shrouded in total darkness, but Wonbin found that he had no trouble seeing the way, so he kept the lights off. The less attention he drew, the better. He planned to make it up to his room, stuff a bag full of essentials, and leave as quickly as he came. If all went well, the members wouldn't even realize he had been back.
He felt a pang of regret. They must have noticed Wonbin wasn't in his room, and the food in the fridge remained untouched. How worried were they when he didn't return in the night, when he didn't answer any of the messages they no doubt bombarded him with? Wonbin supposed it didn't matter. Their reactions tonight would pale in comparison to their devastation when they realized Wonbin would never return.
Wonbin froze before he rounded the corner into the living room. The light was on, which wasn't too strange on its own. It was easy to forget to save electricity when someone else was footing bill. What concerned Wonbin was the bright, honeyed scent that suddenly struck his nose. He knew that scent. Was he more attentive to smell, the thirstier he was? Or—
"Wonbin!" Sungchan whisper-shouted, springing up from his half sleep on the couch. "Where have you been?"
"What are you doing in here?" countered Wonbin, shifting backwards and covering his mouth and nose with one hand. He didn't really care to hear the answer, just concentrated on counting backwards from one hundred in his mind and trying to will his fangs away.
"You've been acting weird for days, then you suddenly disappear and stop answering our messages? Of course I waited up to see if you were okay!" Sungchan's voice was rising in volume, and Wonbin shushed him hurriedly, just in case anyone else had decided to stay awake. The last thing he needed was an audience.
Wonbin's anger distracted from his thirst, and as soon as he felt his fangs recede, he spat, "I'm an adult, hyung. I can go out when I want, I can not answer messages if I want. I don't need you hovering over me all the time!"
"If you don't want someone caring about you, start by taking better care of yourself!" Sungchan retorted, bringing a hand up to massage his temple. He didn't really seem angry, just frantic. Afraid. Wonbin had done that.
Wonbin checked his watch. "We have a schedule tomorrow, you know," he said. The fire in his voice had died out. "We're supposed to wake up in an hour, hyung, are you crazy?"
Sungchan snorted, "You think I'd go to some dumb schedule with you missing? You're the crazy one, Wonbin-ah." Wonbin chuckled along, confident he was exaggerating, and the tension was broken.
"I was never 'missing', you're being dramatic," he said, conveniently ignoring the fact that he had every intention to be, and Sungchan gave him a playful punch to the arm. The warmth of his knuckles burned through Wonbin in the best way possible, and he remembered all at once why being in the dorms was a very, very bad idea.
"Holy shit, you're so cold," Sungchan fretted, rubbing his arms. "Why did you go out if you were still sick? Here, sit down, I'll make you some tea," he grabbed Wonbin by the wrist and began to pull him into the well-lit living room. Wonbin rooted his feet to the ground, staring at the hand connecting them. He could feel Sungchan's pulse.
"Wonbin? It's okay, it's just plain tea, it will be fine," Sungchan said in that god-awful concerned tone, dipping his head to try to look Wonbin in the eyes.
Wonbin refused to meet Sungchan's gaze, "I don't think that's a good idea, hyung." The words came out slightly garbled.
"What are you talking... about..." Sungchan trailed off. Silence reigned, broken only by Wonbin's stuttered breaths as he tried to regain his composure. His senses were being clogged with honey.
"Wonbin?" questioned Sungchan, unsure. He dropped his wrist, blessedly, awfully, and Wonbin turned away.
"I don't know either. At least not until today. Ever since the night I passed out I've been— like... this."
"A vampire?" supplied Sungchan incredulously.
Wonbin could only hang his head, ashamed. He'd been avoiding the word, and hearing it said so plainly like that, with such revulsion. He took a few steps back, further into the darkness
"I haven't hurt anyone, I swear I haven't," Wonbin stressed, even though it truly didn't matter at this point. His secret was revealed, and he could no longer stay here. "I don't want to hurt anyone. But I don't have a choice. You weren't supposed to be here when I left."
"When you what? Hey, just wait a second," Sungchan stepped closer, probably in an attempt to comfort him, not knowing he was doing the very opposite.
Wonbin hurriedly held up an arm. "Don't come any closer," he warned, the words muffled from behind his hand. Sungchan's face fell, but, mercifully, he heeded Wonbin's advice. They stood in a stalemate for a moment, Sungchan lost in thought and Wonbin focusing every fiber of his body on not jumping the man in front of him.
Finally, Sungchan spoke, "It's been four days since then. If you haven't bitten anyone, then... you must be starving."
Wonbin stared. He could only take a few seconds of looking into Sungchan's painfully sincere eyes before a hysterical laugh bubbled up from his lips. Only Sungchan, with his bleeding heart, could be so genuinely concerned that Wonbin hadn't drunk anyone's blood recently. That he wasn't eating well, when for him, eating meant sinking his teeth into a person's neck.
"Yes, I am starving," Wonbin confirmed with a half-mad giggle and a flash of too-sharp teeth. "Which is why you really need to go back to your room and let me get out of here."
Sungchan didn't move an inch. "What if you fed off me?" he asked, completely earnest. As if he didn't just say the most insane thing Wonbin had ever heard, the most tantalizing thing Wonbin could think of at the moment. He needed to leave before he did something they'd both regret.
"You don't know what you're offering. I could hurt you, I could kill you. I don't know how to do this," he said, desperate to make Sungchan understand.
Sungchan took another step forward, more cautiously this time, as if approaching a spooked animal. "You wouldn't do that. I know you wouldn't."
He just didn't get it. "I could turn you! You'll be like this too, permanently! It's not worth the risk." Wonbin's self control was hanging by a thread, and he was seconds away from turning and booking it out the door, belongings be damned.
At last, his words seemed to reach Sungchan, to make him really consider the weight behind his words. He was quiet for a moment, before smiling at Wonbin, so brightly that he had to fight the urge to shrink away.
"I think it is," Sungchan finally answered. "Either way, we'd be in this together, wouldn't we? I'm not letting you run away and give up on everything." He moved in closer, close enough that Wonbin had to look up to meet his gaze. Anything to avoid the line of his exposed neck at Wonbin's eye-level.
"Bite me," he commanded. Wonbin struck the second the words left his lips, gripping Sungchan's shoulders and sinking his teeth into his skin with relish. They were a perfect fit: Wonbin didn't even have to tilt his head to bite into the base of his neck. He could feel the gasp that he dragged from Sungchan's throat, but all other sensations paled in comparison to the taste of the blood that finally flooded his mouth. It was nothing like the bitter, metallic substance he thought he knew. No, this was different. This was ambrosial, like pure sunbeams shooting through his veins. Absently, he wondered if all blood would taste like this to him now. It was a moot point, because in his heart, Wonbin knew the answer: it was just Sungchan's, only Sungchan.
Sungchan. Wonbin pulled away with a gasp, his eyes darting up to study Sungchan's face. His eyelids were closed, and he swayed on his feet even as Wonbin held him steady. He could still taste the blood on his lips, could see it at the base of Sungchan's shoulder where he'd messily tore into the skin. It was nothing like the neat marks on Wonbin's own neck. He felt like a monster.
"Sungchan, hyung, are you okay? Did I hurt you?" he asked.
Sungchan's eyes fluttered open, and Wonbin felt his heart start back up again. Oh, it was actually beating now.
"I'm good, so good," he said with some difficulty, blinking back into awareness. Wonbin didn't loosen his grip.
"Do you... feel any different?"
"Like I'm missing a couple pints of blood, maybe," Sungchan joked. Wonbin didn't laugh. "I'm fine, really. I already told you, you wouldn't hurt me."
Sungchan seemed to be telling the truth. He was conscious, for one thing, which was better than Wonbin's first time being bitten. But still...
"I meant, do you think I— that I turned you?" Wonbin had to know, even if the words felt like gravel coming up his throat.
Sungchan grabbed Wonbin's wrist once again. He brought it to eye-level, studying his forearm, before swiftly biting down. His teeth pressed harmlessly on top of the skin, and Wonbin let out an exhale.
"See?" said Sungchan, lowering Wonbin's spit-soaked arm. He didn't let go. "No fangs here."
"Okay," said Wonbin tentatively. They avoided the worst outcome, but he wasn't out of the woods yet. "What am I supposed to do now?"
"Now, we go to sleep. If we hurry, we should be able to get a full 45 minutes," Sungchan whispered, guiding Wonbin towards the stairs. Despite his words, Sungchan was walking in the opposite direction from his own bedroom.
"But—" Wonbin struggled to articulate his thoughts. How could Sungchan joke around like everything was okay? How could he possibly sleep when he had a monster under his roof?
"Wonbin," he said seriously, stopping. They had reached the door Wonbin's room. Sungchan reached out to hold Wonbin by the shoulders, caging him in. "Everything will be fine. We'll make this work, okay? Just promise me you won't leave. Promise me, Wonbin-ah."
Sungchan's eyes bore into Wonbin's own, burning with intensity. It felt like Wonbin was staring into the sun. He let silence hang in the air for a moment, transfixed.
"I promise," he said. His lips had formed the words of their own volition.
Sungchan smiled, slow and sweet, before giving Wonbin's hand a gentle squeeze goodbye. He slipped back down the hallway to his own room, trusting that Wonbin would still be there when he awoke.
Wonbin stood in the hallway for a long time, staring into the darkness left behind in Sungchan's wake. When the cloying scent of his blood too disappeared, Wonbin turned around, entered his room, and went to sleep.
⁂
Wonbin's condition improved massively from the moment Sungchan's blood began to course through his veins. When he got up the next morning (or rather, a short while later that same morning), his eyes were bright, and his color had returned. He made a big show of serving himself a bowl of beef stew and rice for breakfast, confident he could now stomach it. It was ruefully unsatisfying, but the smile on Eunseok's face had been worth it.
When Wonbin stepped outside to go to work, he found that the sunlight no longer threatened to reduce him to ashes. It still wasn't quite the pleasant warmth he remembered, but he could take it if he needed to.
In practice, his boundless stamina had returned. With his body unburdened by the restrictions of a normal, living person, Wonbin no longer felt fatigued from exerting himself. It was a dancer's dream, to be able to practice and practice without any physical limitations to slow his progress. At a certain point, he had to force himself to sit down and appear at least somewhat tired before the managers started thinking he was on drugs.
Of course, one drink couldn't sustain him forever. It was a relief that he didn't have to feed as frequently as he ate when a was a human, Wonbin wasn't sure if Sungchan's body could handle that. Still, his own body had needs, and he began to feel the stirrings of what he now recognized as thirst around late afternoon, as everyone was packing up to leave practice.
Wonbin decided to ignore it for the time being. The feeling wasn't urgent, and the group still had a round of fancalls to get through before they could finally head home. He could wait.
He glanced sidelong at Sungchan, watching as he spoke animatedly with Shotaro about something or other. Wonbin's teeth ached when he thought of the bite mark on his skin, deliberately hidden beneath the collar of his hoodie. Sungchan would be wearing hoodies for a while. In his haste, Wonbin had bitten just a tad higher than intended along Sungchan's neck, too high to be covered by the neckline of any t-shirt. He would aim closer to the shoulder this time.
Sungchan met his eyes and Wonbin immediately looked away, attempting to lose that train of thought before he did something he'd regret. He could definitely wait.
As eager as Wonbin was to finally feed after the long day, he began to dread it on the way back to the dorm. He wished he and Sungchan had established some sort of protocol. What was Wonbin supposed to do, corner Sungchan in his room and politely ask to chomp down on his neck? And what if he had changed his mind, as any rational person would, and told him no? Wonbin would die, for real this time, of mortification.
After arriving back home, Wonbin dutifully ate his portion of takeout food with the rest of his members before retiring to his room, thirstier than before after the inadequate meal. He paced a bit, still not quite used to the lack of bone-deep exhaustion at the end of his workday. Should he send Sungchan a text? Ask him to come to Wonbin's room, like an UberEats order? Somehow that felt even weirder than asking outright.
It was nearing midnight when Sungchan knocked on his door, a near inaudible pair of raps. Wonbin could have cried from relief. Instead, he counted to three in his head before very casually going to open the door. Sungchan stood there in pajama pants and a wide-collared tee, looking every bit as normal and composed as Wonbin hoped he himself did.
"Hey," Wonbin said shortly, holding open his door in unspoken invitation.
"Hey," Sungchan parroted, making his way into the room and collapsing on Wonbin's bed, as if they did this every night. "Sorry it's so late. I promised Chanyoung we'd start a new drama tonight, and I didn't want him waiting up for me in case..." In case Wonbin turned his neck into a crime scene again.
"It's fine, I understand," said Wonbin, closing and locking the door. Seunghan had a habit of bursting into rooms without knocking, and that would surely be a nightmare for all involved. He turned back to back Sungchan, a bit unsure, "So, how do you want to..."
"Ah, I mean," Sungchan rubbed the back of his neck, and Wonbin struggled to keep his eyes on Sungchan's face. "We could just… sit here?" he suggested, motioning to the bed.
Ridiculously, Wonbin felt the tips of his ears turn red. He laid in the same bed as the other members all the time, yet he was blushing like a middle schooler at the thought of Sungchan and him simply sitting together.
"Sounds good," Wonbin replied mechanically. He gingerly sat next to Sungchan, avoiding his eyes. When Wonbin fed from him the night before, he had far too much on his mind to concern himself with the actual motions of biting. Now, though, it was impossible to ignore just how... intimate the act was.
"I'm ready whenever you are," said Sungchan, gentle. Always reassuring Wonbin, even while offering up his own flesh to sustain him. Wonbin had no clue what he did to deserve such a good friend.
He sized Sungchan up, trying to work out a plan of attack. Truthfully, the angle was a bit awkward with them sitting parallel like this. Wonbin grabbed Sungchan's shoulders with a startling amount of strength and twisted him until he was facing Wonbin fully. Sungchan's eyes widened, but Wonbin paid them no mind, roving his eyes lower with a single-minded focus. The muscles on the far side of Sungchan's neck strained from the new position. Perfect.
Wonbin's fangs popped forth without any coaxing. He darted forward with a predator's instinct, embedding his teeth into the junction of Sungchan's neck and shoulder before he could escape. Wonbin had to bite back a noise of satisfaction as he carefully drank his fill. It was just as good as the first time, maybe even better now that he wasn't half-mad and frantic with starvation. He slid a hand up the other side of Sungchan's neck, noting the way his pulse stuttered beneath his fingertips. Was Sungchan starting to get dizzy? He would stop soon, then. Wonbin was trying to be more mindful of Sungchan's condition going forward.
He pulled away, just barely resisting the urge to lap away the excess blood smeared around the fresh bite wound. That would be a bridge too far, he thought.
"How do you feel?" Wonbin asked instead. "Are you sure it doesn't hurt?"
Sungchan shook his head shortly, a bit woozy, "It really doesn't. I thought it would, yesterday, but it honestly..." he trailed off, lowering his eyes. Worried, Wonbin reached a hand up to tilt Sungchan's chin back where it was and study his face for signs of shock. His breathing was slightly elevated, but his pupils were clear, locked in and focused on Wonbin's own. That was good. Although, Sungchan's face was beginning to flush. Was that a symptom? It was probably a good thing, at least he knew Sungchan still a decent amount blood coursing through him.
Wonbin relaxed, releasing Sungchan's face and explaining, "I did some research earlier on hypovolemic shock." He googled it in the car and skimmed the first result, to be more precise. "You seem okay to me. What were you saying before?"
A beat passed before Sungchan replied firmly, "It doesn't hurt. I feel fine."
"Good," said Wonbin, relieved. It wasn't just a fluke, and this insane arrangement might actually work out. "Same time tomorrow?"
It became a nightly routine.
Once everyone in the dorm was settled down for the night, Wonbin would crack open his door, a sign to Sungchan that he could enter without knocking. Sungchan would slip into the room and gently shut and lock the door, careful not to draw the attention of Sohee next door or Shotaro across the hall.
The secrecy might've been overkill. They weren't doing anything wrong, not really. The members hung out in each other's rooms regularly, and Wonbin had fallen asleep for the night sprawled on top of someone else's covers more than once. It wasn't weird.
However, the regularity with which Sungchan trekked his way across the dorm to visit Wonbin's room, specifically? That might raise some eyebrows. They were better off not having to explain.
Sometimes Sungchan appeared, let Wonbin drink his fill, and immediately retired to his own room. Sometimes he stayed, and they talked and joked around afterwards, suppressing laughter and shushing each other into the early morning hours. Other times, Sungchan was more subdued, visibly exhausted from the day's burdens. On those days, Wonbin kept his feeding short, and said nothing when Sungchan drifted off minutes later. Wonbin just rearranged him against the pillows, moved up his alarm by ten minutes, and sunk into a dreamless slumber beside him.
Wonbin regretted his benevolence when Eunseok complained about Sungchan "stomping" down the stairs before his alarm at every morning, and Shotaro, ever the early riser, began giving him conspiratorial side-eyes over breakfast. Still, their routine remained unspoken, and Wonbin was content to leave it at that. The others, not so much.
Wonbin and Sungchan's newfound closeness spilled into the day as well, and the rest of the group teasingly congratulated them for finally overcoming their awkwardness with each other. They were good friends to begin with, trauma-bonded after years of trainee hell together, but there was always a certain tension that Wonbin could never put a name to, let alone dispel. Turns out, all it took was one of them turning into a bloodsucking monster.
⁂
As they ramped up their practice schedules in preparation for their comeback, Wonbin found himself crashing hard every afternoon. Gone were the days where he could boost his energy with a quick snack or rest. There was only one thing that sustained Wonbin anymore.
He complained as much to Sungchan one day, quietly, when he was positive no one else was in ear shot. They were always whispering to each other these days (at least Seunghan swore they were). Wonbin expected a laugh, maybe some pity, but Sungchan only hummed in contemplation.
"What if you could have a snack?" he finally asked, completely serious.
It was a stupid idea. Truly, needlessly risky. Wonbin made sure to tell Sungchan as much before he slipped out of the room, before making his way down the hall to an unoccupied dressing room. He settled in, texted Sungchan the room number, and waited. The doorknob was twisting open before he could even get impatient.
Wonbin pounced the second the door was shut and locked. They only had so much time before someone came looking, and Wonbin's teeth were aching with the need to bite. He tugged Sungchan backwards, further into the room, while carefully pulling his collar to the side. It wouldn't do to get his clothes all bloody midway through practice.
Once his neck was sufficiently exposed, Wonbin leaned back to look Sungchan in the eyes with unspoken question. Sungchan looked back at him with soft eyes, and nodded in the same manner. It was all Wonbin needed.
He bit down and fed hurriedly. He usually tried to go slow, to spare Sungchan any discomfort, but Wonbin didn't know if it made a difference. He didn't know what it felt like at all, as the one and only occasion he was fed from had been wiped from his memory. Still, he hummed Sungchan an apology just in case, and received only a sharp inhale in response.
It was over quickly. Wonbin made sure to drink just enough to make it through the rest of the day's schedules. He'd gotten a bit neater with it, too; the wound could hardly be seen. No one would even be able to tell.
"Thanks, hyung, seriously," Wonbin said with a grin once he pulled away. He felt like he could run a marathon. "I can't believe we didn't think of this before. You want to head back first?"
Sungchan turned away, not meeting his eyes, "That's okay. You can go first." His voice was tight.
Wonbin didn't think too much of it. For once, he didn't have to go straight to sleep after feeding, and he felt high off of the energy boost. He was practically jogging in place when it was time to run through the choreography again. Sungchan finally slipped back into the room, a few minutes after Wonbin. Shotaro and Chanyoung shared a look before bursting into giggles, but Wonbin paid them no mind, thrumming with energy and ready to dance.
His good mood lasted the rest of the day, all the way up until Sungchan passed through Wonbin's bedroom door. He was strangely subdued, only offering up a mumbled greeting before sitting down on the bed. Sungchan adjusted the collar of his shirt perfunctorily, muscles tense, and waited. Wonbin frowned.
"What's wrong, hyung?" he asked, taking Sungchan's hand and forcing him to let his shirt fall back into place. There was no way Wonbin would bite him in such a state.
"Nothing's wrong, just go ahead. I know you're still hungry," said Sungchan. He tried for his usual light tone, but it fell flat. His eyes seemed to dart everywhere but Wonbin's own.
"...Why won't you look at me?" Wonbin asked, attempting to keep the dejection out of his voice. He didn't want to jump to the worst conclusion, but if Sungchan wouldn't bring it up, he would. "Do you not want to do this tonight? Or... do you want to stop altogether?"
Sungchan startled at the second question, finally finding Wonbin's eyes, "What? No, I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to," Wonbin said gently. Sungchan was always looking out for him, making sure Wonbin was okay before anything else. Maybe he could finally return the favor. "I can't keep asking this of you if you feel uncomfortable, it would be taking advantage."
"No," said Sungchan with a firm shake of his head, sitting up straight. "No, you could never. I want to do this for you. If anything, I'm the one taking advantage."
Wonbin tilted his head. He was relieved to hear it, but still... "What do you mean by that?"
Sungchan deflated, his fervor gone as quickly as it arrived. He leaned back to put some space between them, and Wonbin swore he saw the tips his ears go pink. Was Sungchan embarrassed?
"I didn't want to tell you, in case it made you want to stop doing this. For your own sake, I mean. I don't want to be selfish, I want to keep helping you, but I understand if you didn't want me to—"
Wonbin watched on in fascination as Sungchan rambled. He had never seen his hyung so nervous before. Sungchan was always the one Wonbin counted on when he was nervous himself. He seemed to have an endless supply of comfort and encouragement, ready to protect Wonbin in a blanket of warm words whenever he needed it. Wonbin desperately wanted to do the same for him, but Sungchan's next words stole his breath.
"What I'm saying is— I like you, Wonbin. More than I should. Way more," Sungchan whispered the last part, letting the confession hang in the air.
Wonbin didn't know what to say. He wanted to break the horrible silence, but he was helpless to do anything more than stare, frozen in place. When it became apparent he would receive no response, Sungchan soldiered on.
"I know it's not fair to burden you with my feelings, especially with everything else you have on your mind, but it would be wrong to keep doing this without telling you," he said resolutely. Wonbin couldn't make sense of any of it.
"But why? Why is it wrong?"
"Because it feels really, really good when you bite me, Wonbin-ah," Sungchan breathed in confession.
"Good, as in..."
"As in I wanted to pin you to the floor of the dressing room earlier."
Oh. He didn't know vampire bites could do that. Blood rushed to Wonbin's face. Sungchan's blood, he remembered with a shudder. He wilted under Sungchan's intense gaze. It wasn't as though Wonbin had never felt the weight of a wanting stare, it just felt different with Sungchan. He was always different.
"Sungchan-hyung, I don't... I don't know how I feel. I've never really thought about us like that." But now he couldn't stop. Wonbin had been more than a little obsessed with Sungchan in recent weeks. Each time he came into view, Wonbin couldn't help but remember the taste of his blood, the feel of his skin between his teeth, the sounds he made while he drank. He'd chalked it up to vampire instincts.
But when Sungchan wasn't around to give Wonbin a place to rest his gaze, Wonbin would simply conjure him from memory. The way he looked at Wonbin, open and indulgent. The curve of his lips when he teased him, the brightness of his eyes when he was impassioned. All of their late nights turned early mornings, whispered conversations with their shoulders flush, promise me you won't leave, promise me Wonbin-ah. He felt dizzy.
"I'm not asking you to return my feelings, please don't think that—"
"But what if I do?" Wonbin thought aloud. It a genuine question. "What then, hyung?"
Wonbin never cared about the other members' blood, never even thought about how it would feel to bite them. Their scents breezed past his nose unnoticed. Not like Sungchan's. He imagined he could sense every honeyed cell that raced through Sungchan's veins and filtered through his frantically beating heart.
"…Can I kiss you?" asked Sungchan. He had gotten closer while Wonbin's thoughts ran wild, until their breaths mingled together.
Sungchan always knew what he needed. He took the lead, took away the pressure of deciding what came next, so all Wonbin had to do was lean in.
The kiss started delicate, as if anything more would upset the tentative balance they had achieved. Wonbin cradled Sungchan's jaw in his cold hands, soaking in his warmth and stealing it away. Sungchan grabbed his wrists, welcoming it.
Wonbin tried his best to follow along when Sungchan began to move his lips. He kissed Wonbin with urgency, and enough force that he had to fight to remain upright. He was grateful for it, awed to have the chance to experience what Sungchan did every night. Wonbin felt like he finally understood what it was like to be devoured.
It was everything but it wasn't enough.
Wonbin pulled away. "Can I bite you?" he asked though heaving breaths. It occurred to him that he had never asked before, always waiting for Sungchan to make the first move, to set the tone, to invite him in. Always waiting.
It was different this time, in every way. Wonbin needed to ask just as much as he needed Sungchan to say it.
Sungchan whispered his assent, reverent. "Please."
Wonbin latched on to the side of Sungchan's neck, high and visible. A claim. It would raise questions. Neither of them cared.
Wonbin basked in the sunlight and let himself burn.