Was Love in The Job Description?

by pinkfire

Summary:

“I want to spend eternity with him,” Jake says. “He’s the only man for me.”

Jungwon’s concerned expression pops into Jake’s view. “What are you saying?” he mutters. “You know you’re just gonna polish his boots and dust his cursed artifacts until you’re old and useless. You do know that, right?” 

Jake needs a new bone saw. His current one sucks plain balls, its dull blades grinding into thigh meat like a butter knife to an overcooked steak. 

 

When he huffs and pushes his body weight into the next slice, he pops into an artery—blood splatters up to his forehead, dots his safety glasses, further soaks his trusty Hello Kitty apron—and the high-pitched scream he lets loose sends a cawing murder of crows from the treeline. 

 

Not that he’s scared of blood in the slightest; he can’t be, not in his line of work. He just doesn’t want hepatitis.

 

“Dude.” Jungwon backhands Jake’s shoulder with the victim’s limp, severed arm. “They practically drained this sucker to dust, and you still managed to get all three ounces of his blood on you.” 

 

“It’s the saw,” Jake complains, snatching and flinging the offending arm into a nearby rose bush. The wolves will find it later. “Heeseung needs to get me a new one.” 

 

Jungwon’s face slowly falls, starting with the corners of his mouth and ending with a furrowed brow. He leans over the UberEats driver’s partially dismembered corpse—maybe it’s a little messed up to let the person who delivered you pho get devoured by your vampire master and his vampire bestie, but it is called Uber Eats for a reason, right? It’s convenient—and he whispers, “Heeseung buys you that stuff? Jay never buys me anything.” 

 

The whispering is pointless, honestly. Their respective vampire lords are in the parlor digesting their meal, sitting around and yapping about the eternal suffering of their foes or something adjacent, and they could absolutely use their heightened senses to eavesdrop if they wanted to (which they don’t, not when they couldn’t give a fraction of a fuck about thee insipid human exchanges). Through the stone walls and thick, stained glass windows which separate them, they’d be able to hear even the flies buzzing around. 

 

Jake keeps trying to tell Jungwon whispering won’t make his own gruesome demise any less likely. But nooo, Jungwon insists on tiptoeing through every corridor of his life, remaining meek, letting the vampires smell his fear. 

 

Jake, himself, continues to be loud and reckless. It’s always been this way; with his Sim Family luck, his vivid, passionate delusions, and a pretty face, he’s been able to breeze through twenty-two years unscathed. He’s gotten this far, so. He won’t be whispering like a coward. “Well, what’s your allowance?” 

 

Jungwon’s eyebrows shoot up. “My what? Are you saying Heeseung gives you an allowance?” 

 

“Yeah, and he even gives me gifts sometimes! Like, he brought me the skull of some guy who effed up my group project, and told me he made his death so torturous and excruciating it would taint every one of his reincarnated lives with the suffering. He’s so sweet.” Jake swoons, draping the back of his arm over his forehead, making his fringe sticky with blood and sweat.  

 

“That’s. Um. Charming.” Jungwon fiddles with his cleaver, twisting the handle between his fingers and watching the moon and stars dance in its red-stained reflection. He sucks his teeth. “Nah, this is fucked. I don’t even get an allowance. Jay tells me the honor of being a familiar is payment enough.” 

 

Jake shrugs as he gets back to work, driving the saw through the corpse’s leg and wincing when he hits bone. He’s never liked the sensation; it makes his own skeleton ache in sympathy. It’s times like these he wishes Heeseung’s incinerator was big enough to fit a full carcass. 

 

“Well, he’s kinda right,” he says after a thoughtful stretch of silence. “Serving Lord Lee The Treacherous is the peak of my existence so far.” 

 

“You wouldn’t feel the same if you answered to Count Park The Egotistical.” Yes, that’s his actual title, not just Jungwon being dramatic. 

 

And Jay does live up to it. Props for the consistency over all four centuries of his life. Or, his death? His afterlife?

 

“Maybe not, but Heeseung…” Jake sighs dreamily and falls back into the dying grass, leaving his saw buried in leg meat so he can stretch his arms above his head.

 

It’s a clear night, stars twinkling and sky rich with deep ink, all thanks to the seclusion of Heeseung’s ancient—and probably haunted—mountainside castle. Out here, it’s all quiet nature and lingering darkness. The pine trees are full and dense, forming a serrated, black mass that tears into the sky with its jagged peaks. Acres untouched by humans. The nearest public road is out by miles. 

 

“I want to spend eternity with him,” Jake eventually says. “He’s the only man for me.” 

 

Jungwon’s concerned expression pops into Jake’s view. He’s too grounded about this whole thing. Like, he’s only Jay’s familiar so he can take advantage of the free housing. For someone who has to clean blood out of ancient rugs and take clothes that look like Renfaire costumes to the dry cleaners every other Sunday, he’s shockingly level-headed. A realist. “What are you saying?” he mutters. “You know you’re just gonna polish his boots and dust his cursed artifacts until you’re old and useless. You do know that, right?” 

 

“Don’t try to burst my bubble.” Jake rights himself and Jungwon barely evades a headbutt. “I read the ancient tomes in Hee’s library, Wonie. There’ve been lots of familiars who were turned by their masters.” 

 

“Okay, I missed a chapter. You want to be a vampire?”  

 

“I need to be a vampire,” Jake corrects. “It’s my calling. I’m meant to be Heeseung’s husband. Forever.” He presses a palm to his chest. His heart is restless, constantly fluttering and rapid, and he thinks it might be serene to let it stop, to finally soothe the eager rush of blood under his skin. Being a human is tiring. He was born to be turned, to stay young forever and never have to worry about wrinkles or hair loss or erectile dysfunction. 

 

Jungwon stares for a few moments, letting the crickets express themselves, then bursts into a howling fit of laughter. He clutches his stomach and rolls around in the grass and kicks the air, all the dramatics. “Are you hearing this?” he asks the dead guy, jostling what’s left of his shoulder. “Jake is a fucking lunatic.” 

 

Jake considers using his bone saw on Jungwon’s neck. He grasps the handle, fingers flexing unsubtly around it, violent impulses burning and obvious in his eyes, but no. 

 

Heeseung would give him a very stern talking-to if he murdered his best friend’s familiar, and then he wouldn’t buy him pretty jewelry or let him tag along to his exclusive, undead nightclubs for a long while. Sure, there are harsher vampire lords out there, ones whose punishments involve torture and death or whatever, but all Heeseung has to do is frown at Jake to make his heart shatter into a million pieces. For Jake, that’s worse than the cruelest deaths imaginable. He’s sensitive, okay? 

 

So, he simply takes his frustrations out on his task, sawing and sawing until the bone finally snaps, until he’s finally slicing through the last ribbons of flesh and his serrated blade digs into blood-soaked soil. He blows his hair out of his eyes with a dramatic puff of air. “You’re gonna feel really stupid when I’m a gorgeous, powerful vampire and you’re still working under Count Park The Egotistical.” 

 

“No, no.” Jungwon wipes a joyful tear, the latex of his glove squeaking against his skin and smearing streaks of blood under his eye. Hopefully, he’ll be the one who gets hepatitis from this operation. “You’re gonna feel really stupid when Heeseung tosses you out for a new familiar. Bet they’ll be cuter and have a way better work ethic than you.” 

 

“Won’t happen,” Jake says, turning his nose away in defiance. “Impossible.” 

 

“Keep deluding yourself, then.” 

 

“I will.” 

 

Damn the naysayers. Jungwon just doesn’t know how to dream. 

🦇

After they incinerate the dismembered corpse, Jake washes up in Heeseung’s poorly lit en-suite bathroom. He fills the clawfoot tub and creates a bubbly pink froth of soap and blood, where he lets himself soak for much longer than necessary. It’s a post-cleanup ritual of his. Smelling like jasmine is nice. Smelling like jasmine and blood should make him any vampire’s wet dream. 

 

He’s been doing this for the past two years. Heeseung has not asked to lick him yet. 

 

Once he’s dry and his hair is fluffy and his skin is thoroughly lotioned, he pulls on a pair of shorts so short he might as well be freeballing it, then tugs an oversized sweater over his head because the castle is cold as fuck. His legs are fine, he swears. 

 

Jungwon joins him in the dining area a while later. (He’d used the guest bathroom where most of the rats in the castle tend to convene. He probably had to scare them away with a broom before getting naked.) They make coffee, scatter notes and textbooks over the excessively long table, crack open their laptops, and chip away at their assignments while they still have an ounce of free time. 

 

No telling what ridiculous quest their vampire masters will send them on next, after all. But they seem to be settled in for now. 

 

Heeseung is playing unnerving funeral music on the grand piano. His brocade cloak is swept haphazardly behind the bench, its hood lowered to reveal a head of well-styled, black hair. It catches candlelight in oil spill colors, in magnificent purples and reds and greens like raven feathers. Jake is a bit distracted by that, by the way Heeseung’s thick, ring-crowded fingers dance over the keys, by the handsome lines of his serenely focused side profile. 

 

Jake wants to spread his legs and let Heeseung play him like that piano. 

 

Jay, meanwhile, is perched stiffly on the nearest chaise lounge, staring blankly at—well, nothing. He hasn’t blinked for an hour. He’s like that, really. 

 

He doesn’t even blink when a bat smacks face-first into one of their windows with the force of a bullet. 

 

Heeseung’s fingers pause, leaving a G note to linger in the cobwebs that coat the high ceiling. “Jake, darling, will you show our guest the front door?” 

 

“Oh!” Jake springs up, nearly tipping his chair over in the process. “Of course, my lord.” 

 

Jungwon rolls his eyes as if he wouldn’t act the same. Sure, his willingness comes from a place of fear rather than a place of lust, but which of those is really worth judging? A sense of self-preservation in 2025 is just outrageous. 

 

Jake steps into his house slippers, gets to trotting, and shuts Jungwon’s hands into his laptop on the way out. 

 

“Ow, you bitch.” 

 

It’s probably just a regular old bat that flew into the window; wouldn’t be the first time Heeseung mistook one of the animals for a fellow vampire. And, really, wouldn’t someone with centuries of life experience know how to find a huge castle door? It’s big enough to have Jake breaking a sweat when he pushes it open, all heavy slabs of wood and massive steel bolts. Gothic knockers the size of Jake’s head on top of it all. He leaves it cracked as he rounds the castle, locates the window, and expects to see an injured bat crumpled into the bushes below it. 

 

But, wow. There really is an idiotic vampire stumbling out of the shrubs, plucking a dead leaf from his hair. He stills and licks his fangs when he catches a strong whiff of Jake, a devilish glint of red lighting his irises up. “Finally, something good to eat.”  

 

“Woah, woah, woah!” Jake holds his palms out as if that’ll do anything but waft out more of his scent. “Keep those fangs over there. I’m Lord Lee Heeseung’s familiar. You can’t eat me.” 

 

Now that he’s standing at full height, Jake sees that the vampire, despite his lack of navigational skills, is very attractive. Fairytale pretty. Princely. Honestly, even in his beauty, he looks more like a vampire than even the most pointy-eared, bat-faced motherfuckers that hang from the ceilings of the darkest abandoned castles. 

 

Not bad. Jake still thinks Heeseung is the most charming creature on earth, though. He always will. He’s loyal like that. 

 

“Shame,” the vampire says, not even trying to hide his disappointment that he can’t drain Jake like a Caprisun. “I assumed Heeseung prepared me a snack.” 

 

Jake gulps. Vampire code is very real and serious and eating a familiar is a huge offense, but that doesn’t mean it never happens. “We can call UberEats later if you’re still hungry. Come on, I’ll show you inside.” 

 

The vampire slinks along like a shadow behind him. “Who is Uber? I have not met any kin of the Eats bloodline.” 

 

“Oh, yanno.” Jake shoulders the door and uses his entire body weight to wedge it wide open, his house slippers sliding against the polished stone floor of the castle. 

 

With the door pressed to his back, he waits awkwardly for what feels like a full minute before he realizes he needs to invite the guy in. Vampire stuff. “Oops. You can come in.” 

 

The vampire huffs and breezes through the threshold like a gust of stale wind, leaving the smell of dead roses in his wake. A shiver runs down Jake’s spine. Creepy. 

 

“Ah, Sunghoon.” Jay’s voice drifts into the main room before he does. As always, he moves with no sense of urgency, like he’s walking through molasses. (Jungwon is pattering far behind him still, balancing his laptop on one arm and using the other to type furiously.) “What a surprise,” Jay drawls. “If we knew you were coming, we would have prepared a virgin for you to snack on.” 

 

“Did you not receive my letter? I sent you a crow.” 

 

Heeseung floats in next, most of his long body enveloped by his cloak. He commands the room with his mere presence, the tallest, oldest, and hottest one here. Maybe the last one is Jake’s opinion, but come on. That jawline. Those deep garnet suck-me eyes. He was crafted carefully by God, perfected and set in marble by the Devil. 

 

Jake, ogling him, nearly closes his own foot in the door. 

 

“Apologies, we do not receive crows anymore.” Heeseung gestures toward the front lawn, where Jake had zip-tied a mailbox to the wrought iron fence last summer. “We use the mailbox. And the Eeee Mail.” 

 

Sunghoon shakes his head in disapproval, definitely not the progressive pro-human sort. He seems like he’d yearn for world domination. Or a harem. “Human means of communication are too complicated. I have arrived now, regardless.” 

 

“On what business?” Jay asks. 

 

“Can I not pay some good old friends a visit?” 

 

Heeseung raises an eyebrow that drops Jake’s metaphorical panties. 

 

“Fine, fine,” Sunghoon surrenders. “I am hosting the annual vampire orgy, and I was hoping you would let me use your castle. There is much more room here than in my mausoleum.” 

 

“The annual orgy? That’s in two nights,” Jay points out. He angles his face away only for the purpose of cutting Sunghoon a mean side-eye. “Have you arranged anything?” 

 

Sunghoon looks around, pretending to take in the decommissioned chandelier and crumbling dual grand staircases and the unsightly gargoyles standing guard. “Perhaps not…” He itches one perfect, thick brow and clears his throat. He’s doing anything but meeting Jay and Heeseung’s peeved glares. “It is very last minute; you see, Count Huening was going to host it, but he suffered a garlic bread incident.” 

 

All the vampires hiss in empathy. 

 

Jake goes to pick his wedgie since everyone is distracted, but his timing is unfortunate. He still has a fistful of his shorts when Heeseung asks, “Jake, would you go to the adult store and gather supplies? We need ball gags, dildos, lubricant, and cattle prods.” 

 

“Cattle prods?” Jungwon mutters.

 

Jake straightens up. “On it, my lord. Ball gags. Dildos. Lube. Cattle prods.” 

 

“You, go with him,” Jay says to Jungwon. He makes a shooing gesture that looks extremely gay, what with his wrist limp and his frilly sleeve flouncing about. 

 

Jake would rather stay here with Heeseung, especially on the off chance that Sunghoon is some secret long-lost lover who actually came to win Heeseung’s heart back, but, hey. It’s not every day that you get to shop for sex toys with your vampire master’s money. 

🦇

“Do you think Heeseung would like me in these?” Jake asks, holding two bedazzled, heart-shaped nipple pasties to his chest. Over his shirt, of course. He has some class. 

 

Jungwon sighs and turns back to the monster dildo section. “No, man. He’s old fashioned. He probably likes crotchless bloomers or something.” 

 

“Ew. I am not wearing those.” 

 

“You would if he liked it.” 

 

Jake glares, but he can’t be taken too seriously with those blinged-out pasties held up to his nipples. The bright red color does bring out his eyes, though. “Fuck you… Okay, I totally would. Do you think I could find a pair on Depop?” 

 

“Dude.” Jungwon plucks a box from the shelf in front of him and assesses the specs of a pearlescent purple, tentacle-shaped dildo. “Can you be normal for five seconds?” 

 

“There’s no time for that.” 

 

“Not even five seconds?” 

 

“There are gonna be tons of sexy, oiled-up vampires piling into his castle in two nights.” Jake is riling himself up at this point. Not even laughing at the adult DVD section or browsing the dick-shaped party favors or chasing Jungwon around the store with a flogger could calm him down. “I need to seduce him before they steal my man.” 

 

“Maybe you can start by focusing on the damn task he gave you.” Jungwon thrusts a collection of silicone dragon dicks and alien tongues into his arms. “Hold these dildos.” 

🦇

The sun is rising and all the vampires are asleep—Heeseung and Jay in their respective coffins and Sunghoon hanging from the ceiling of the wine cellar—by the time Jake and Jungwon get back. They have to lug all the sex toys and fifty gallons of lube into the castle by themselves, but what’s new?

 

Now here’s the sleeping situation for Jake, as a day student who’s forced to function like a nocturnal: 

 

He gets his shut-eye for an hour before it’s time to get ready for his classes. This usually makes him even drowsier for the day, but he can’t resist sleeping like the dead for however long. The actual sleep, in case you were deeply concerned, comes after his classes. 

 

He has his own bedroom, where he keeps most of his belongings, but he only ever goes there to grab his things. Heeseung prefers that he sleep and spend his ‘alone’ time in the huge four-poster bed by his coffin. Something about wanting Jake to be nearby in case he’s needed. But Jake certainly isn’t complaining about that. The strongest blackout curtains on the market, silk sheets, full access to all of Heeseung’s luxurious robes; the sleep there is so good, Jake doesn’t even care about all the literal evil spirits that terrorize him in his dreams. Sleep paralysis builds character. 

 

When he finally gets to slip into Heeseung’s sleeping chamber this morning, Jake sneaks a personal bottle of lube and a strip of condoms—who knows what STDS an attractive vampire could accumulate over 500 plus years—into the clunky bedside drawer, dives into a purple ocean of satin, and promptly passes out. 

 

He wakes up five minutes before his morning lecture. As soon as he sees the time, he says “fuck it” out loud, then rolls out of bed determined to skip the lecture in favor of a fresh, warm bagel at the campus café. Changing out of his oversized sweater would be useless since he’ll be going back to sleep after his final lecture, but he has the decency to throw on a pair of jeans instead of showing up basically pantless. Not that he hasn’t done it before. 

 

The day drags by as Jake’s always do, his mind constantly drifting off to Heeseung, to all the ways their first kiss and first bite and first anal session could go. He doesn’t retain an ounce of information from his lectures, but he can always read the textbooks later. (He won’t.)

 

Back to the castle, back under Heeseung’s heavy satin duvet, and back into dreamland, where Jake marries Heeseung in Vegas and adopts a dog that Sunghoon tries to eat. Jake knew he didn’t like that guy. 

 

With a couple of hours left before sunrise, Jake bathes in multiple flowery soaps, styles his hair in fluffy, princely waves, accentuates his eyes with a subtle cool-brown liner and his lips with a cherry-red gloss, and pulls on nothing but a pair of boxers and one of Heeseung’s robes, tied neatly around the waist and nearly falling off one shoulder. Yeah, he’s pure vampire bait; Heeseung better ravage him tonight. 

 

“Sleep well, handsome? It must be cold in there all by yourself. Oh, move aside,” he purrs, talking to Heeseung’s closed, silent coffin like a lunatic. 

 

He’s trying to practice waking Heeseung up like he’s a teenager in his bedroom mirror again, biting his lip, tucking his hair behind his ear, fluttering his lashes as he tests out a few lines. “Wow. You really take “beauty sleep” to another level. Fuck. No. That’s so fucking stupid,” he mutters, rubbing his temple and trying to warm up his three functioning braincells. “Uh, should I wake you with a kiss, princess?” When he leans down to kiss the engraved, steel-adorned wooden lid of Heeseung’s coffin, it swings open and smacks him in the forehead. 

 

“Hell!” Jake yelps, stumbling back and hoping more than anything that he doesn’t get an unsightly bruise on his pretty face. 

 

“Oh, dear,” Heeseung gasps. “Are you hurt?” 

 

“No,” Jake says, voice strained and hand clasped over his throbbing forehead. “It didn’t even hit me.” 

 

Heeseung pouts, and Jake’s heart flutters at the sight of him, his messy coffin hair swept in different directions and his silk pajamas all askew. Only he could retain this level of cuteness for so many years, and through the countless brutal murders he’s committed. “Have you fallen ill?” he asks, swinging his long legs over the edge of his coffin and taking an undignified leap to his feet—usually Jake helps him step out elegantly, but he’s busy trying to shake the stars from around his head. 

 

“No, sir. I—”

 

“You must be burning up. You’re hardly wearing anything.” Heeseung crowds into Jake’s personal bubble, laying the back of his cold hand against Jake’s cheek so gently, it feels like the caress of a rose petal. “And you were conversing with yourself. Do we still have plenty of tonics in the cupboard?” 

 

Jake thinks, momentarily, that he should pretend to be deathly sick just so Heeseung can fuss over him instead of focusing on the orgy. Maybe he should even swoon so Heeseung will catch him. But no. That’s a cheap shot. Besides, he’s so dazed by the scents of candle smoke, old books, and bitter-sweetness of wine on Heeseung’s skin, he’d be a pretty useless actor. What were they talking about? 

 

“Jake? Are you conscious?” 

 

“I’m good, I’m good,” Jake breathes, watching Heeseung’s hand retreat and wishing it would have lingered longer, or trailed down his neck, his chest, to the tie of his robe and... Ahem. “I’m perfectly fine. Now, let’s get you ready for the night, my lord. We have an orgy to arrange. Should I run you a bath?” 

 

“No need.” (Don’t be grossed out. Vampires can’t even sweat; Heeseung is very clean and fuckable even though he only really bathes to be rid of blood after feeding messily, or as a way to relax and prepare himself for a long night. Not that any of this matters to Jake, who would genuinely lick Heeseung clean if he’d asked.) “I’ll get dressed, then you can attend to my hair. Go dress yourself as well. You’ll be cold.” 

 

Jake reluctantly agrees and scurries away to throw on a hoodie and jeans because, yeah, he’s freezing his ass off. 

 

Total bust. 

 

He’s determined to properly flirt with Heeseung—do all the lash-fluttering and lip-biting he practiced—while he styles his hair, but ends up getting too embarrassed by his shaky hands to do a thing but comb through those silky locks and lazily pomade Heeseung’s hair away from his face, unintentionally leaving a few wavy strands to fall over Heeseung’s forehead. All while Heeseung repeatedly questions his well-being. 

 

No, he’s not feverish; he’s blushing. No, he’s not constipated; he’s internally fighting himself for not spitting out any of the half-decent pickup lines that cross his mind. No, he’s not about to faint; he might, though. 

 

He nearly does when he gets on his knees to lace up Heeseung’s boots and catches an eyeful of crotch. Bulge, even. On soft, Jake presumes. 

 

Somehow, with dick in mind, he works up the courage to caress Heeseung’s knee in slow, awkward circles as he plucks at his shoelaces. 

 

“What is it?” Heeseung asks, thigh twitching almost imperceptibly at the touch. Maybe he’s getting somewhere but—

 

Jake gulps loudly and pretends to sweep something off of Heeseung’s slacks. “Dust.” 

 

It’s a real shot to his confidence that he can’t even get laid in a romantic castle, by candlelight, with a massive, satin-laden bed right there. But he won’t give up; there’s still an entire night ahead of him. He wonders if the crotchless bloomers he saw on Facebook Marketplace are still available. 

🦇

“I don’t know if I can reach high enough to hang this sex swing,” Jake yaps, plucking a tangled heap of straps from a splintery crate labeled Devil’s Tango, revealing silk ribbons and fleece-lined handcuffs and what looks like a sexy nurse costume. It all smells like old leather and artificial cherries and Heeseung. It’s an honor that Jake gets to go through it now. He wants to stick his head in and sniff. “The doorframe is so tall and I’m so short and tiny, you know?!”

 

Jungwon turns from his own work of wrapping tacky, red tinsel garland around the stair bannisters so he can visibly judge him. “Dude, stop yelling. I’m right here.” 

 

Yes, Jungwon is right here, but Heeseung is over there, flicking his quill elegantly across parchment that will invite about two-hundred vampires into his castle to fuck and suck. He’s so adorable in his concentration, worrying his sweet pink lip under one of his fangs.

 

“And you know we have a step ladder.” Jungwon walks over to peer into Heeseung’s special sex crate as he continues, face scrunched in disgust at its contents. “It’s in the pantry.” 

 

“Shh!” Jake tries to smack Jungwon with one of the sex swing’s many complicated straps, and Jungwon scurries away squealing like a rodent. “If only I had a tall, kind vampire to help me out with this…” 

 

“I will do it,” Heeseung offers, suddenly at Jake’s side. 

 

Jake nearly shudders at his close presence. “Oh, thank you, sir,” he says breathlessly. “Should I sit on your shoulders or—”

 

“Ridiculous, darling.” Heeseung untangles the straps from Jake’s arms with mouthwatering ease. “It’ll be more efficient if I hang it for you.”

 

Jake opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. All he can manage is a choppy string of unrelated vowels. 

 

There’s no way a vampire who’s been around so long can be this dense; Heeseung has to be rejecting Jake on purpose now, intentionally deflecting his flirtation. 

 

Heeseung isn’t inexperienced by any means. Hey, just look at the Devil’s Tango crate. 

 

He’d had admirers from all walks of life—even offspring of the most powerful families—when he was a musician in the Joseon Dynasty. He likely fucked at least one person from every country throughout his life. There are countless paintings of his cute, round ass circulating museums and collectors’ homes from his sex work phase in 18th century France. He’s had vampire lovers, human lovers, witch lovers, ghost lovers. Lovers all over.

 

Sure, he hasn’t gotten laid in at least two years—that’s how long Jake has been his familiar—but the written accounts of his sexcapades and romances are way too detailed to be false. And all those paintings of him in the nude are too accurate, down to the mole above his eyebrow. 

 

The point is: there’s no way Heeseung doesn’t know that Jake is trying to flirt. He knows. The devastating truth is that he simply doesn’t want him back. Not even a bite of him. It’s a sinking realization, one that hits Jake all at once, dunks him into icy water and crushes his lungs like two miserable cans of Pepsi. 

 

To think, his infatuation with the macabre started as a silly little hobby, his familiar career a novelty, his attraction to Heeseung a simple vampire fetish. Now? He can’t see himself ever moving on. He never will and never has felt at home anywhere but within these castle walls. He’s in too deep. 

🦇

After decorating in pouty silence for a full hour, only huffing and puffing and sparing an affirmative hum every time Heeseung asks if he’s sure he feels okay, Jake tags along on Jungwon’s trip to the trading card store.

 

“So, do you play Warhammer?” asks some dweeb in a fedora, and Jake has no idea what the fuck that is. 

 

He nods regardless. They’re trying to wrangle some virgins.

 

A vampire orgy without any fresh virgin blood to drink is just unspeakable, according to Sunghoon, so.

 

“Totally.” Jake, instead of making eye-contact that will inevitably have him either bursting into laughter or gagging, picks through the tin of sparkly resin dice on the counter. “You should come over to my place tomorrow night. My friends and I are gonna play.”

 

“Really? Oh my god, yeah. Here— here’s my—” The nerd sounds like he just ran a marathon, sheesh. He clumsily collects his phone from his back pocket and offers it to Jake with a shaky hand. “Uh, um. Can you put your number in so I can get the address later?”

 

Ew. This job can get so gross. Interacting with people like this is probably worse than cutting up and incinerating dead bodies. 

 

Jake holds the guy’s sweaty phone like it’s a level four biohazard, types his number in, and hands it back as quickly as possible. 

 

Sometimes, he forgets that he’s also a dork in his own right. He’s a simple guy, anyway; brings others down to lift himself up. At least he can say he bathes regularly. 

 

“Ready to go?” Jungwon asks as he walks by, grabbing Jake by the sleeve to pull him along, “four should be enough.” 

 

“Yep, let’s go trade Pokémons and shit.” 

 

“Maybe you can date one of them,” Jungwon teases as they break free from the stuffy, weird-smelling incel nest and spill into the breezy night. “Since Heeseung doesn’t want you.” 

 

“I’m going to stab you to death,” Jake threatens, and he means it. One day, Jay will fire Jungwon for his attitude and Jake will have a field day. Maybe he’ll even be a vampire at that point. Then all that extra-salty virgin blood won’t go to waste. 

 

“Just admit it,” Jungwon presses on, entirely unaware of the grave he’s digging for himself, “I was right and you were wrong. These vampires see familiars as the dirt they walk on. And who fucks dirt?” 

 

“Someone somewhere is fucking dirt as we speak.”

 

No thanks to Jungwon’s pessimism or his uninspiring retail store playlist, Jake comes up with a solid plan on the way back to the castle. 

 

Referencing the ancient texts—early 2000s coming-of-age romcoms—he’ll play hard-to-get. Pretend he doesn’t feel any kind of way. That’s it. By giving Heeseung the cold shoulder, he’ll make him realize that he can’t survive without Jake’s love and attention. 

🦇

Yeah, okay, Heeseung doesn’t give a fuck. 

 

Jake should’ve expected that. Everyone’s distracted by the orgy preparations, and human hours probably feel like vampire minutes, so Heeseung is indifferent to Jake’s avoidance. He writes his dumbass invitations and confers with dumbass Sunghoon and dumbass Jay and takes an intermission to paint his dumbass fingernails black, basically does anything except give Jake his much-needed attention. 

 

“You know what,” Jake says at four in the morning, dramatically throwing a box of condoms at the floor and breaking his vow of silence with an echoing thud, “I don’t feel well. I’m going to sleep.” 

 

“Great,” Jungwon mutters. “I’ll just mop the whole castle by myself.” Ugh, what does he want Jake to do anyway? Mop with his tears? Like, get a grip. 

 

Jake huffs and sulks toward one of the grand staircases, pulling his hood over his head and dragging his feet for good measure. 

 

In the next second, Heeseung is drifting behind him, his steps silent but his movement through the castle tangible, his mature scent unmistakable. “I knew it,” he says, tone soft rather than accusatory. “You may rest for as long as you need. I’m sure Sunghoon will help me test these handcuffs—”

 

“Actually, I’m fine!” Jake yells frantically enough to startle a whole vampire. He whips around and grins like a maniac. “I can do it.” 

 

Heeseung sighs. “You always put your work before your health. Go rest.” 

 

“No, no.” 

 

“I insist.”

 

Jake fully whines, “but I—”

 

“Should I put you to bed myself?” Heeseung threatens. It’s a gentle thing, almost fatherly. The worst he’d do is carry Jake bridal-style to his room and hypnotize him into sleep, but Jake’s knees still try to buckle at the sound of it, at the crystal sternness in Heeseung’s eyes. Surely Heeseung can sense the blood rushing to Jake’s cheeks, because his gaze softens like butter. “You’re a valuable familiar. You should take care of yourself.” 

 

Well, now Jake feels bad about being a brat. For only a second. “I know what I can handle,” he says—his shrunken posture and red cheeks probably betray that statement. “I’ll rest on my own terms.” 

 

Funny. If Jungwon ever acted like this, he’d be on Jay’s dinner menu. 

 

You see, Jake would usually be smug that he can act however he wants without fearing for his life, but he realizes this treatment is almost worse, like he’s a petulant child, like he doesn’t know right from wrong and can’t be held accountable for shit.

 

He wants Heeseung to see him as a potential lover. Not to take care of him, and certainly not to mentor him. 

 

He hates the way Heeseung is looking at him now, as if he knows exactly what’s going on in Jake’s mind, as if this is a case he’s seen hundreds of times before: dumb humans thinking they’re stronger than they actually are, forgetting their vulnerability and insignificance in the presence of vampires. 

 

And this is all especially annoying because Jake isn’t even tired. He’s just frustrated. Sexually and otherwise. He squares his shoulders, fully prepared to argue with whatever comes out of Heeseung’s mouth next. He’ll show him! 

 

“Sleep,” Heeseung commands, and— 

 

Damn it. 

 

Jake wakes up sweaty and disoriented, his clothes all riding up and skin stuck to Heeseung’s infuriatingly silky, rose-scented sheets. “Asshole,” he mutters. 

🦇

“Somehow you’re even more obnoxious like this,” Jungwon sighs. “It’s three in the afternoon. Do something.” 

 

Jake groans into his pillows. He’s in his own bed for once (he relocated just to be petty), and it’s so dusty from disuse that he sounds stuffy as well as muffled. “What’s the point?” 

 

“Wow. You really are pathetic.” 

 

“Die.” 

 

There’s a beat of silence, probably Jungwon rolling his eyes or flicking Jake off or something, then the bed is dipping under Jungwon’s weight. “Listen,” he says, “you’re gonna miss an opportunity if you keep moping around like a little bitch. The hottest and most sociable vampires from around the world are gonna be here tonight. Who knows? Maybe you’ll develop a disturbing obsession with one of them instead.” 

 

“Oh.” Jake turns his face so that his shock is visible. “That’s actually helpful. I mean, Heeseung will always take up space in my heart—and my balls—but maybe a distraction wouldn’t be bad…” 

 

“You’re welcome.” 

 

“Oh my fuck.” Jake sits up to jostle Jungwon by the shoulder. “What if I make him jealous, too?” 

 

“Um, I guess. But that’s not what I—”

 

“Or I could get another vampire to turn me! Maybe he’ll want to be with me then.” 

 

“We’re getting a little ahead of ourselves.” 

 

Jake isn’t hearing that part. He’ll only take one piece of Jungwon’s advice per year, and that quota has been met.

🦇

With his new outlook on the situation, Jake is far more enthusiastic about getting ready. 

 

He helps Jungwon lay waterproof tarps over antique parlor rugs, picks up fresh roses to fill brass vases, and successfully robs a blood bank without a single complaint. He’d even say he’s going above and beyond today. 

 

It’s not that he still wants to impress Heeseung— well, okay, it is. Because he’ll think of how grateful he is that Jake is his lovely, hardworking familiar, just to see that he could be taken away by another vampire at any moment (he couldn’t, wouldn’t, but it’s about the illusion). 

 

He gets dolled up to his best ability, too, uses so much soap and sugar scrub and lotion that he can’t stop sneezing while he carefully styles his hair post-bath. His makeup is more daring than yesterday’s attempt; he uses shimmers on his eyelids and dark brown pencil liner to accentuate the puppy-dog shape of his eyes, stains his lips candy-red with a tint before layering gloss on top, and dusts his cheeks with powder blush that mimics a natural flush. It drives vampires crazy, so he hears, when they can see the blood rising under humans’ skin. 

 

He goes ahead and runs Heeseung a bath while he’s there, takes one of the roses he’d retrieved today and crushes it so he can scatter its petals over the water, lights extra candles. See; no one familiars the way Jake familiars. 

 

The rest of his routine is rushed because the sun is reaching the horizon and the sky is bleeding into bright oranges and soft purples, but that’s fine. He’s been considering his outfit since the very moment he heard the word orgy come from Sunghoon’s mouth. 

 

It’s half from his own closet: black pants that hug his thighs well, an engraved gold ring Heeseung had personally gifted him, and the one pair of chunky oxfords he always uses for presentations—and half from Heeseung’s: a flowy white blouse that laces up at the front and falls off one shoulder if he moves the wrong way, and a necklace that rests an ornately-framed garnet pendant over his sternum. 

 

He always has access to Heeseung’s wardrobe and jewelry, full permission to wear what he wants, but he rarely allows himself the luxury. He can’t really pair blouses and coats with his comfy booty shorts and sweatpants, yanno? And there’s no reason to get himself all sexy and vampire-y for university. No one would really get it unless they were alternative—there’s a depressing lack of alt students there—and he doesn’t want to accidentally attract any human men with how pretty he looks in Heeseung’s clothes. So. It’s a rare occurrence. And his secret weapon. 

 

But when he wakes Heeseung up this time, he’s totally cool and chill about it. 

 

“Evening, my lord,” he says, only managing to regulate his tone because he’s looking at the wall rather than his cute, half-asleep vampire master. He holds his hand out so Heeseung can take it and smoothly descend from his coffin.

 

Heeseung yawns, then blinks and rubs his eyes multiple times, looks Jake up-and-down, blinks again for good measure. “You…” Jake waits for him to say ‘are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, please marry me.’ but Heeseung averts his gaze and, instead, “seem to feel better now. I suppose all the preparations are done?” 

 

Jake tries not to wilt as his insane delusions, as per usual, don’t come to fruition. “Yes, sir. And your bath is ready. I’ll leave you to it.” 

 

“Wait a moment.” 

 

“Mhm?” 

 

Maybe this is when the proposal happens. Jake holds his breath.

 

And Heeseung doesn’t get down on one knee. “Will you arrange my outfit for me? I haven’t attended an orgy in four years and have no idea what to wear.” 

 

Um… What gives the impression that Jake has attended any orgies ever? Jake raises his eyebrows and Heeseung sees the question in that. 

 

“A fresh pair of eyes will be better. And your outfit,” Heeseung murmurs, the movements of his mouth so soft and tiny that his fangs give him the slightest lisp. “You look wonderful.” 

 

“Oh.” Jake sounds like the wind was knocked out of him. So much for being nonchalant. “Yeah. Sure, I— Thanks. I mean, I’ll do that. No problemo. That’s French for problem, right?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Welp. I’ll just get started, then.” Jake gestures awkwardly toward the en-suite. “Bath is in the bathroom.” 

 

“Where else would it be?” Heeseung asks, and it’s a genuine question because he’s old as fuck and sees everything non-poetic as literal. 

 

Jake is in love with an absolute fossil and he’d have it no other way. 

 

“I dunno.” Jake shrugs. “Didn’t you have to take baths outside, like, a hundred years ago? And in lakes a few years before that?” 

 

“Hm. Maybe. A couple hundred years, I would say.” 

 

“Oh. I see.” 

 

There’s a good, long moment where they stand in silence, looking at each other yet indelicately avoiding eye-contact, gazes flickering like candlelight. Call Jake crazy, but there’s no word for this aside from tension. 

 

“I’ll bathe now,” Heeseung says to shatter it, already reaching for the buttons of his sleep shirt as he heads for the en-suite. “Thank you, darling.” 

 

Jake waves off the gratitude because he’s super cool and it’s all no big deal. “Pssh. Just doing my job.” 

 

In picking Heeseung’s outfit, he’s entirely self-indulgent. He chooses the slacks that make Heeseung’s ass look nice and round and smackable, the double buckle belt that he always has a hard time taking off—anything to keep him from whipping it out for someone else—and pairs a flowy, burgundy blouse with a black vest to accentuate his tapered waist. As for jewelry, a plain black choker, an onyx pendant necklace, and chunky steel rings that could hurt someone if he wanted to finger them. Yeah, Jake is an evil genius; he can ogle Heeseung’s figure and keep him from getting laid all at once. 

 

Heeseung, once dressed, only commends Jake for his good fashion sense. He even decides that he looks so good in this outfit, they can just leave his hair loose, wavy, and falling over his eyes: Jake’s favorite look. So maybe Jake is having regrets… his knees are already shaking at this point. 

 

They wrap it up and head down to greet guests who’ve already arrived. 

 

There are three of them being entertained by Sunghoon, all dressed in dark, Victorian clothing similar to Heeseung’s, one with heavy eyeliner and another with bright red lips. They notice Heeseung’s presence immediately and close in on him with three different conversations at once. “The castle looks fantastic, Hee. I love the graveyard over there.” “Twenty years! The council has been asking about you.” “Look, I finally got the golden fangs.” And Heeseung receives it all, replies smooth and effortless, attention divvyed evenly. He has the manners and charm of a well-trained prince. 

 

Jake’s heart aches as much as it flutters. 

 

He takes it upon himself to slip away to the kitchen and start pouring blood bags into wine glasses, hands shaking and carmine flooding the silver tray he’s crowded the glassware onto. When he finishes his messy work—he’s sure no one will mind; it won’t be long until blood and other bodily fluids are smeared across faces and palms—and circles back to the foyer, he finds that the vampires have multiplied. One of them is already ass-naked. He tries not to look. 

 

It’ll probably please Sunghoon most if Jake refrains from making eye-contact or speaking unless spoken to, so. He acts as a sentient drink cart, roaming around and letting people pluck glasses from his tray as the foyer progressively gets fuller and naked-er. 

 

He scopes out the scene as subtly as he can, though, hoping someone might catch his eye and heal the Heeseung-sized gash in his heart, but no one is really interesting to him. There are some millennial-coded vampires, some traditional like Sunghoon, some dressed in various alternative styles and some already on their knees. None of them are Heeseung. Jake’s gaze still cuts over to said vampire master every half-minute, just so he can make sure he’s not suddenly balls-deep in some pretty vampire, or, worse, professing his undying love to a long-lost flame. 

 

Jake doesn’t even notice that Jungwon is down here until he finds him as a scuttling pile of coats. 

 

“Help,” Jungwon calls from the depths of the coat-cocoon. 

 

Jake places his tray down and decides to be helpful, starting to pull heavy trench coats, leather jackets, and cloaks from over Jungwon’s head. 

 

“Thanks, man,” Jungwon says once his face is freed, hair all frizzy and cheeks flushed from exertion. 

 

“Yeah, no problem—”

 

“Jake, darling,” Heeseung summons from across the room, and Jake promptly, without warning, throws the coats back over Jungwon’s head. 

 

He ignores Jungwon’s muffled yelp so he can briskly make his way to Heeseung. “Yes, my lord?” 

 

With a rare, blinding smile, Heeseung wraps an arm around Jake’s shoulders and pulls him forward, presenting him to the other vampires he was talking to. “This is my familiar, Jake,” he introduces proudly, sending Jake’s heart into overdrive—his usual blind confidence has gone out the window and been dragged into the night by feral wolves. 

 

Jake is sized up by four pairs of red eyes, one belonging to a man who says, “wonderful. Only you would be able to find a familiar who is beautiful as well as enthusiastic and devoted, Heeseung.” 

 

“Ah, don’t say that.” Heeseung squeezes Jake’s shoulder and turns to address him directly. “They were asking advice on finding exceptional familiars of their own. What would you say?” 

 

“Uh.” Jake shorts out for a second, and Heeseung’s attempt at encouragement via physical touch, a slow caress down his bicep, only makes matters worse. 

 

What the genuine fuck? Heeseung thinks Jake is an exemplary familiar? He finds him useful enough to share his opinion with other vampires? They all look well-established too, a couple of them wearing the council’s crest on their clothes. Then we have Sunghoon standing there, and he’s just plain judgy. 

 

Listen, Jake has always been a whore for praise, always beamed when teachers used his work as a good example in class. He’s simple. In his excitement, he forgets what his goal for the night is, forgets the very concepts of nonchalance and swag. 

 

“I’d say…” Jake fiddles with the pendant he’s wearing. Hopefully it’ll hide the nervous tremors in his fingers. “It's more than a job, so you’ll want a familiar who’s hardworking and has nothing else going for them. No life.” 

 

One of the younger-looking vampires barks out a laugh, igniting subtler chuckles in the others. 

 

Jake doubles down. “I’m being so serious.” 

 

Heeseung’s smile fades. His touch falls away. “Jake, you—” He cuts himself off with a huff, and Jake feels the entire world shatter around him. 

 

He said something wrong, fuck, he said something wrong. 

 

“I meant, like,” he scrambles to patch things up, to get a hold on the situation even though he doesn’t know why Heeseung is disappointed, “no distractions. Yanno, romantic partners, gambling addictions, multi-level marketing schemes.” He’s just saying anything at this point. 

 

“Dastardly multi-level marketing schemes,” Sunghoon mutters, clearly having personal beef with the marketing tactic. 

 

“Hm.” Heeseung glances sidelong at Jake. “Thank you for your insight, darling.” 

 

Jake lets out a long breath and nearly faints when he exhales the dredges of it. “Anything for you, sir.” he bows, trying to amend his image as a familiar before dismissing himself. “Nice meeting you all, but please excuse me. I should offer refreshments to our new guests. The virgins don’t get here for another hour.” 

🦇 

Thankfully, the atmosphere gets loose and warm after the virgins arrive. 

 

The soundscape could lull Jake to sleep; fire crackles in the main parlor’s fireplace, chatter persists at a low hum, and, most importantly, Heeseung has begun to play the piano. The top notes in the room are moans and gasps, but vampires’ voices have mostly smoothed out and melted into honey, sirens’ calls made to lure in prey. No complaints here. 

 

And now that the vampires have gotten their fill of virgin blood, Jake can take a breather and linger near the doorway with Jungwon, watching live porno while the opportunity is there. Vampires really are freaky—some are on leashes, some are hanging upside-down from the ceiling, and some are moving their mouths from hard cocks to a limp virgin’s neck; having snack breaks while giving a blowjob is certainly something. Jake kind of feels like he’s watching Animal Planet, but he thinks he’ll understand more when he’s a vampire himself. 

 

“This is really what my life has come to,” Jungwon sighs. “Why are they doing literal gymnastics over there?” 

 

Jake shrugs. “I think it’s impressive. I didn’t know legs could even bend that way.” 

 

“They shouldn’t.” Jungwon glowers when a virgin nerd corpse is kicked their way. 

 

“This guy’s empty,” says a vampire through blood-smeared lips, as if explanation is needed, before slinking away. 

 

Jake nudges the corpse with the toe of his shoe. “Do you wanna grab the legs or the arms?” 

 

“Neither.” And, welp, there Jungwon goes. 

 

Wouldn’t be the first time Jake’s had to drag a corpse outside by himself. He rolls his sleeves up so he won’t mess up Heeseung’s pretty blouse, does a few warmup stretches, and gets a good hold on the corpse’s ankles. 

 

And of course, of course it’s when he’s almost to the front door, awkwardly crouched over, hair in his face, and virgin nerd ankles in his hands that he bumps his ass right into someone’s thighs. He nearly falls onto the corpse, which would totally suck, but the person behind him has quick reflexes and grabs his belt loops before that can happen, yanks him back and realigns his center of gravity. 

 

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” Jake stands and bows repeatedly, praying he won’t be torn to shreds and left to die next to a nerd. 

 

But when he stands upright and finally looks up through his messy fringe, he’s met with a view. 

 

A vampire even taller than Heeseung, clearly fit though his frame is dressed in baggy pants, a hoodie, and a leather jacket. He’s bleach blond. He has nose piercings. His eyes are a shocking, fresh red that tells Jake that he’s extremely young compared to the others. 

 

“Don’t sweat it,” the vampire says, voice surprisingly deep. Hellooo, boytoy. “Why is a pretty boy like you doing dirty work, anyway? Let me do it.” 

 

“Oh, no no.” Jake giggles like an idiot. “Just leave it there. That’s where I wanted it, anyway.” 

 

“In the middle of the doorway?” 

 

“For the ambiance.” 

 

The vampire raises a pierced brow. “Right.” He shuffles in beside Jake, lingering near the corpse so he can ask, “what’s your name?” 

 

Not whose familiar are you? Okay, Jake will certainly bite. 

 

“I’m Jake. And you’re…” 

 

“Ni-ki.” He hesitates, but decides to explain further. “Sunghoon is my sire, so.” 

 

Jake can’t help but laugh. He steps over the corpse and naturally leads Ni-ki deeper into the foyer, standing beside an accent table decorated with roses and candles that’ll bring out his eyes. “Sunghoon? How did that happen?” 

 

“Basically, it was my job to mow the grass at the graveyard he lives in. And apparently I did it well, because when I died in a car accident he took it upon himself to sneak into the hospital and turn me.” He doesn’t sound too enthused about the ordeal, just resigned to his new life as a vampire slash landscaper. 

 

Jake snorts. “Sounds like something he’d do, actually.” 

 

“Mhm.” 

 

“Do you want me to bring you to him?” 

 

“Nope.” Ni-ki looks Jake up-and-down, his eyes lingering at his neck as he absently picks at one of his fangs with his pinky nail. “I kinda came here to get my rocks off. So… you and me?” Smooth. He makes a circle with his fingers and sticks another finger in, as if that’s necessary. 

 

Jake flushes, his blood tingling at the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his fingers. He feels like he’s doing something bad, a prickling at the back of his neck, but Jungwon basically told him to do this. And Jungwon is normal and non-delusional and stuff. “Well, sure—”

 

A sharp piano note strikes through the air, echoing all the way from the parlor to the foyer and probably into the lowest depths of Hell. Then, the music stops. Oh, shit. 

 

There’s a cold hand wrapped around Jake’s forearm before he can even blink.

 

Even Ni-ki startles, shoulders jumping then quickly smoothing out again. 

 

“Darling,” Heeseung grits out, unsubtly stepping into the space between Jake and Ni-ki, “what happened to the glass of blood you promised me?”  

 

“When did I—”

 

“It’s fine, we all forget things.” Heeseung’s tone grows softer with every word, like he’s reeling back and reining in his frustration as he speaks. As for what he could possibly be frustrated from (and not much gets under his skin; he’s been bothered much less by werewolves pissing on his lawn and gnawing on his fence), Jake has an idea…

 

Well, damn. Maybe he should follow more than one piece of Jungwon’s advice per year. This has to be jealousy. 

 

“Sorry, sir,” Jake breathes, although he knows for a fact Heeseung never asked for a glass of blood because, if he had, Jake would’ve delivered in seconds. 

 

Heeseung shoots a glare toward a visibly unaffected and bored Ni-ki, then gently tugs Jake along, guiding him toward the nearest staircase. 

 

This is probably a given, but Jake’s getting a boner now. He feels like his skin could burst into flame at any moment, and he’s pretty sure this is how it’d feel to be a vampire in the sun. He doesn't know what to say, what to do but remain pliant and be led upstairs, down the hall. He nearly whines when Heeseung stops short of his bedroom door. Can they please go in there and fuck?  

 

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asks, clearly misreading the situation. Clearly thinking Jake can’t handle himself, can’t stand his own ground. 

 

And Jake isn’t okay, but it’s because of Heeseung and his insistent concern and his prodding eyes and his gorgeous—well, everything. Not because of some nonchalant fledgling. 

 

Jake nods anyway. “Yeah, yes, of course. I’m fine. I just wanted to have some fun.” 

 

Somehow, Heeseung doesn’t seem comforted by that answer at all. He drags his fingers through his fringe in frustration, face only scrunching more when one of those chunky rings gets stuck in his hair. Oops. “You know young vampires are— they— why would you—” For the first time, like, ever, Jake gets to see Heeseung struggle to find words, fumble with his expression as he clumsily frees his hair from his rings. “He wouldn’t know how to be gentle,” he settles on.

 

Jake crosses his arms. “So? What if I don’t always want to be treated like fine china?” 

 

“I could treat you however—” Heeseung chokes on his words, shakes his head like he’s fighting demons in there. 

 

“What?” Jake presses on, incensed and hopeful in equal parts. “You could treat me like what?” 

 

“Jake,” Heeseung pleads, “I don’t know what’s happening with you. First you imply that you have no life outside of being my familiar, and now you’re putting yourself in harm’s way. Within my domain. You’re the best familiar I’ve ever had and yet… I think I should just let you go.” 

 

Ice shoots straight down Jake’s spine, crystallizes in his eyes. He falls to his knees, a pathetic, broken puppet at Heeseung’s feet, strings cut and mouth loose. “No, no. I’m sorry. Please, don’t let go of me. What can I do better? I’ll be more careful, I’ll fix the rat problem, I’ll find you all the virgins you can drink, I’ll— I’ll do anything.” 

 

“Oh, darling. There’s no need for all of that.” Heeseung reaches down to touch, perhaps caress Jake’s face or pull him to his feet, but decides to keep his hands to himself and hide them behind his back—it looks like he’s holding his asscheeks back there. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” 

 

“Then why?” Jake chokes out, tears blurring his vision. He’d be less distraught if Heeseung broke both of his legs and stabbed him in the neck. 

 

“I cannot bear the thought of ruining your life.” As if he’s not actively trying to do that now. 

 

“You’re an idiot!” Jake cries. He clutches onto Heeseung’s pant leg because he needs something, anything of him to hold. Out of fear that this might be the last time he can—that this outburst will be the end of it all. “I want to be with you. Only you. I want you. Can’t you see that?” 

 

Heeseung turns his head away like he’s faced with the sun, screwing his eyes shut, probably clutching his own asscheeks for dear life. “You’re young,” he manages to say. “This is only fleeting for you. The feeling will pass and you’ll graduate college and find a real job, a real lover to grow with, and live a beautiful life. You’re perfect, Jake. Sweet, and passionate, and warm. You don’t belong here.” 

 

“That’s total bullshit. Stop it. Stop being so delicate with me.” Jake tugs desperately at Heeseung’s pant leg, and he hates this, he hates how pathetic and childish he’s acting after keeping his cool—sort of—for two years. “If you don’t want me back, please just say that.” 

 

“When you say want—”

 

“I want you to hold me and fuck me and love me and marry me. I want you to turn me, to have me. All of me.” Jake realizes he’s only making things worse, finally lets go of Heeseung’s pants and scrambles away like he’s being cornered by a panther. “Actually, don’t even say it. I know you don’t see me like that.” 

 

Heeseung finally looks at him, his eyes such a dark garnet that they’re nearly black in the dim hallway, his lashes low and fluttering. “Stand up,” he commands. 

 

Jake, albeit entirely out-of-sorts, has no choice but to follow the command—Heeseung is using literal hypnotizism on him, after all. He makes it to his feet, but his knees threaten to give out on him when he can feel Heeseung’s breath on his face. 

 

“Would you like to see something?” Heeseung murmurs, carefully running his fingertips through Jake’s hair. 

 

“Your dick,” Jake says automatically. 

 

Heeseung’s eyes widen, doe-like, irises now glimmering at the edges like firelight through wine. “Oh, quit that.” Jake wonders if it’s a trick of the light or Heeseung’s ears are actually turning red, flushed with the scarce amount of blood in his undead body. “I really have something to show you.” 

 

“Anything.” Jake nods fervently enough to make them both dizzy. “I wanna see everything you have to show me.” 

 

“This way, then.” 

 

Heeseung turns Jake around by the shoulders and leads him, unfortunately, away from his sleeping chamber, and, fortunately, toward his study. The one room Jake was never allowed to enter. 

 

He always assumed there was a deadly book of curses or a pet hellhound or maybe a dangerous mold problem in there, but no. When Heeseung lets the door swing open, it’s a cozy, vintage little office space, lantern-lit with a big leather chair and a wooden desk in the center, bookshelves and crowded countertops circling the entire room. It’s vastly different from the pristine, echoing space of his sleeping chamber—bed, coffin, fireplace, not much else to fill it out and soften the stone interior. Here, Heeseung’s touch lingers on every surface, his scent trapped into every nook, cranny, and speck of dust.

 

It’s when Heeseung shuts the door behind them that Jake sees it: a wall coated with sketches of him. As in, Jake Sim. That’s his face—and those are his hands, his eyes, his lips in insane detail—etched in strokes of charcoal that range from soft and careful and loving to harsh and passionate, framed by Heeseung’s pretty little script and doodles of roses in the margins. 

 

“I don’t remember you drawing me,” Jake says breathlessly. He needs to grip the edge of the desk to steady himself, steady the whole room. It’s all spinning. 

 

“They’re from memory,” Heeseung admits, casually floating toward one of the tall bookshelves and pulling out a leatherback journal, which he plops onto the desk in front of Jake. Then he pulls out another, and another, journal after journal, all well-loved and full, pages sticking out and some fluttering to the floor. 

 

Jake catches one of the loose pages and thinks he can make out a few words: sunlight, eternity, beautiful, Jake. If he’s being honest, he can barely read cursive, let alone Heeseung’s quick, crowded and heavily slanted handwriting that he’d developed at some point in the 16th century. 

 

“Everything I’ve wanted to say to you,” Heeseung explains, sidling up to Jake so he can loop an arm around his waist and tuck his hair behind his ear. “But I thought you’d never feel the same. Even if you did, I thought it’d be selfish to steal you from the warmth of mortal life. I still think so.” 

 

Funny he says that, when warmth—more than he can ever get from the daytime or human body heat—is flooding into Jake’s core from all of this, from Heeseung’s proximity and his words, his implications. Granted, some of it is anger, because why is Heeseung so stupid? A man who yearns is hot and all, but fuck. 

 

“I can’t read any of it,” Jake whines, ruffling frantically through one of the journals, page after page filled from top to bottom with words and swift flourishes but none of it legible to him. 

 

Heeseung shifts to wrap around Jake’s backside, engulfing him with his tall frame and broad shoulders and long arms. “Let me.” He takes the journal from Jake’s hands and smoothly flips to one of the first pages. “I have lived too long, seen too many faces,” he starts, speaking softly into Jake’s ear. “Thought I would never find beauty again in muddled features, eyes empty pools and mouths guarding nothing but greedy teeth. Now I’ve met you, my gorgeous Jake, and I’m the same man I was when I could feel the sun on my skin. I want again, want in a way that is tender and human, want to swim in your full eyes and send your rose-petal lips into bloom.” 

 

Jake is totally shaking from head to toe now, and Heeseung feels it, steadies the journal in one hand so he can wrap his protective arm entirely around Jake’s middle. “Feeling okay, darling?” Heeseung asks, lips ghosting over Jake’s temple. 

 

“Just, damn,” Jake says eloquently, rubbing his fingertips in a self-soothing pattern over Heeseung’s rings. “All of these journals… You filled them with stuff like that?” 

 

“It was the only way I could hold onto my sanity. Well, so I thought. You drive me crazier and crazier by the night.” 

 

The room starts to close in on them, rising in temperature even with the coolness of Heeseung’s body pressed against Jake’s back. 

 

Jake tries to exhale the heat only to suck it back in and melt in Heeseung’s hold. But he’s greedy. He wants it all. He wants to evaporate and seep into Heeseung’s lungs. “Another. Read me another.” 

 

Heeseung’s responding laugh is quiet and fond, his breath fanning against Jake’s ear. He flips toward the back of the journal, where the lines of his handwriting are thicker and ink messily dots the crowded scape of words—he always uses the same quill, but his passion must’ve translated to pressure on the page. 

 

“If I were selfish,” Heeseung murmurs, shifting his hand to curl it over Jake’s hip, to pull him closer, “I’d have you the way death would, lay roots in you and swallow your light, treat my embrace as six feet of soil and the imprint of my teeth as your toe tag.” He presses his lips tenderly against the sensitive spot under Jake’s ear, eliciting a sharp gasp. “Some might say it’d be fair, a heart for a heart, as my love for you is death itself. Irreversible.” His voice is music, his lips cold and wet where they caress Jake’s heated skin, fingers pressed carefully into the soft human flesh of his waist. “Eternal.” 

 

Jake whines under his breath and tilts his head so he can invite more of Heeseung’s words to his skin. And, maybe, so a certain pair of fangs will sink into him. “How do you make dying sound so sexy?” 

 

“I only expressed the way you make me feel.” Heeseung noses at the underside of Jake’s jaw, and his lips are right there, right where Jake’s carotid vein pulses with hot blood. He inhales deeply, his hold winding so tight that his hips—and the swell of his clothed cock—press against Jake’s ass. He probably isn’t meaning to be sexual at a time like this, but c’mon. Boner city. 

 

Jake arches his back so his ass will rub against Heeseung’s crotch, and Heeseung’s breath stutters at the base of his throat. 

 

Two years. They’ve been denying themselves of this for two years. Jake is pretty dumb but Heeseung might be even dumber. He’s seriously been mourning a love he hasn’t even tried to chase yet? Accepted defeat before the game even started? And all of these letters—are we being for real? It’s not like Jake went to war. He’s right here! 

 

“Book club’s over,” Jake says. He squirms enough for the mouthwateringly strong arm around his waist to let up, turns in Heeseung’s hold until they’re nose to nose, and flings his arms around Heeseung’s neck. 

 

The journal Heeseung was holding tumbles to the desk and an avalanche of books and papers spills onto the floor. Both his hands naturally fall into place at the small of Jake’s back, a light pressure, wanting but hesitant. “Do you not like the letters?” he asks. Next: Is grass purple? 

 

Jake raises his eyebrows. “I liked them too much.” He stands on the tips of his toes to get their faces closer together, their chests and hips flush, their breath shared. “It’s just— I’ve waited long enough already. Please kiss me, my lord.” 

 

“My name,” Heeseung blurts out, lips all pouty around the words. “Please call me by my name. I cannot bear it anymore— all of that ‘sir, my lord,’ it’s—”

 

“Heeseung,” Jake drawls. Oh, the way those beautiful vowels caress his palate. “Kiss me, Heeseung.” 

 

As if hypnotized, Heeseung goes silent, eyes dazed and brow soft and lips slightly ajar, fingers curling around fistfuls of Jake’s borrowed shirt in a way that must be subconscious. Jake almost forgets that he’s still human, that he can’t truly entrance and compel. There are no qualms, no we can’ts. There’s no resistance in the way Heeseung falls into Jake and slots their mouths together. 

 

The kiss starts out tender, a breath to feel each other out, for Jake’s eyes to flutter shut and his mouth to adjust to Heeseung’s cold, satin lips. 

 

Jake slides his hands to the back of Heeseung’s neck, clutching and caressing as Heeseung presses impossibly closer. It’s when Jake’s tongue licks its clumsy way into Heeseung’s mouth that the kiss consumes them entirely. 

 

Heeseung’s saliva is cold but it’s intoxicating, the bitter-sweet traces of his venom tingling warm on Jake’s tastebuds, twisting the metallic tang of blood in his teeth into something inoffensive, something mouthwatering. Jake whimpers, nearly biting Heeseung’s tongue when it swipes into his mouth in turn, far more purposeful in its conquest. 

 

Heeseung has probably kissed hundreds of people before, and it’s clear in the perfect pressure of his lips and dizzying coordination of his tongue, in the way he maneuvers his mouth so that Jake doesn’t scrape his tongue against his fangs. 

 

Jake slowly realizes that he—with his complete lack of experience—is probably underwhelming, and Heeseung is probably falling out of love in real time and regretting every letter he wrote. Jake’s lungs are burning and his heart is thundering and he has to pull away from the kiss to gasp for air.

 

At that, Heeseung embraces him fully, the only thing keeping him from collapsing to the ground. “Sorry,” he says, voice still thick and syrupy from kissing, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

 

“Shut up,” Jake groans. He feels like his skin is going to melt off and he’s going to die and Heeseung better turn him when he does. “Stop apologizing. I just— I want this, okay? But do you— do you like it?” 

 

“Darling, I don’t know how I could make it any clearer that I’m taken with you. This moment feels better than I ever could’ve dreamt.” 

 

This is it: Jake is gonna pass away right here in Heeseung’s arms. 

 

Heeseung frowns. “But—”

 

“No buts,” Jake whines. “I want you and that’s final. I don’t care that you’re older than dirt and you’re deathly scared of vape pens and you ate my chemistry professor for dinner last month. I don’t care.” 

 

“Ah.” Heeseung bites his lip, bringing attention to how it’s still glistening with Jake’s spit and lip gloss. “Then, I suppose we should court… before the marriage and the turning and all. If that’s what you want.” 

 

“Yeah.” Jake bounces up on the tips of his toes again so he can speak against Heeseung’s mouth. “If it means being yours, it’s what I want.” A quick kiss. A slower one, coaxing a low sigh out of Heeseung’s throat. 

 

Heeseung relaxes into him, chases his lips for a third kiss and whines when Jake swerves to peck the tip of his nose. 

 

“Courting better involve fucking,” Jake says, shifting to hike his leg up around Heeseung’s waist. 

 

Heeseung’s hand automatically comes down to grip his thigh, and it sends hot sparks flying from Jake’s groin to the tips of his toes. And still, “you’re a virgin,” Heeseung points out. 

 

“So what? You wanna taste my blood while it’s still pure?” Jake teases, lolling his head back to give Heeseung full access to his neck. “One bite won’t hurt.” 

 

“You are a reckless creature,” Heeseung says, but his voice betrays him; it’s heavy with need, deep with such a devastating thirst, one would think he hasn’t fed in months. “That’s not the way in which I’d like to taste you.” His eyes, too, bleeding into a brilliant red, they rove from the shirt collar slipping down Jake’s shoulder to the vein pulsing under his jaw and back again. And his cock feels like it’s stiffening through all the layers of clothes between them.

 

Jake flexes his thigh muscles under Heeseung’s steadily tightening grip. “It isn’t, huh?” 

 

Heeseung’s gaze seems to flicker in the glow of the lantern on his desk, the heat of it licking up Jake’s throat as he leans down to mouth at the crook of his neck. 

 

Here, Jake’s adrenaline spikes because, yeah, Heeseung could very well kill him right now, tear into him with the fangs hiding behind those petal-soft lips—he won’t, but the idea of that has Jake trembling like a newborn deer. He digs his nails into the back of Heeseung’s neck and screws his eyes shut, bracing for the sharp pain that comes with a vampire’s bite. 

 

But it doesn’t come. Heeseung’s lips leave his skin and his arm leaves his waist, and Jake would fall if it weren’t for the hold Heeseung keeps on his thigh as he sinks to his knees. 

 

Jake slams a hand down on the desk behind him and twists the other into Heeseung’s hair, squealing as Heeseung scoops him up by both thighs and forces him to sit on the edge of that haphazard pile of love diaries and letters. Something crinkles. He winces. Heeseung better write more to make up for that. 

 

“Do you have any idea,” Heeseung starts, pauses to wet his lips with his tounge, “how irresistible you are?” He sweeps his hands up to deftly undo the button of Jake’s pants, to unzip and yank the waistband down mid-thigh with dizzying fluidity. “You’ve been my greatest test of patience, and I’ve failed.” 

 

“Finally,” Jake lets out, shifting to move his hips closer to Heeseung’s face. It feels like he’ll fall off the edge of the desk but it doesn’t matter because Heeseung would easily catch him. 

 

Heeseung hums in agreement, although his touch is retreating and Jake is going to cry—the whine is bubbling up—but Heeseung starts snatching his rings off in quick succession, letting them clatter loudly against the floor, the metallic cacophony still echoing by the time he gets his hands back on Jake. He continues to work Jake’s pants down until they get caught on his chunky shoes, then dutifully takes those off and sets them aside so he can finish the job. 

 

Now there’s only a pair of boxers in the way and Jake is clearly so horny he could sob, his dick fully hard and visibly twitching beneath the thin fabric. 

 

And this is when Heeseung decides to play around, to slow it all down and press a loving kiss to Jake’s knee. Jake needs him up here, between his legs. His kneecaps don’t need that love; his dick does. 

 

Honestly, Jake has already been enough of a desperate mess tonight, so he bites his lip to keep the begging at bay, swallows his whines down and sits still and pretty. He lets Heeseung take his time to massage and explore the length of his legs from ankle to knee to hip, waits patiently for his nose to make its slow, merry way up his inner thigh. Even as the electricity pulsing through him threatens to make him jolt, as his palms itch to wrap around his own cock, he wants to be good because it’s what Heeseung deserves for taking care of him. 

 

“You’re so soft,” Heeseung tells him, dimpling the flesh of his thigh with careful fingertips, testing the give of his skin. “Touching you is the only paradise I’ll ever get; the only I’ll ever need.” 

 

Jake melts over the praise, but his horniness is a force to be reckoned with and he can’t help but provoke; meet flowery confessions with slutty remarks. “Just imagine how soft my ass will feel. I’ve been getting waxed just for you, all this time.” 

 

Heeseung’s breath stutters out against his heated skin. “You’re rather forward for a virgin.” 

 

“We can’t all be poets.” 

 

“Hush, my darling. I hold my breath for every word to come from your pretty mouth.” 

 

“You’re so fucking romantic. Fuck,” Jake curses, tugging at Heeseung’s soft, product-free hair and trying to get him—that devastating face, kiss-slick lips and attentive eyes—closer to his crotch. “I need you so bad.” 

 

Heeseung finally gives in to him, dissolves under his honesty, nuzzles against the damp tent in his boxers with a sweet hum. “Here?” As if he needs to ask. Yes, there. Jake’s gasp is enough of an answer for Heeseung to drag his tongue over his clothed dick, the visual of Heeseung’s pink mouth working over him and the wet friction of it utterly devastating. 

 

Now the airy cotton of Jake’s boxers seems too thick, too much. It’s in the way and both of them scramble to peel it down his legs, frantic hands and eager breaths tangling until the offending garment is across the room. 

 

“So beautiful, Jake,” Heeseung says, the words tumbling from his mouth like an exhale, like he couldn’t hold them back if he tried. He spreads Jake out by the thighs, pinning him open for worship. “You’re stunning.” 

 

The heat of Heeseung’s attention is almost as unbearable as it is blissful, his gaze cooking into delicate skin and tensing muscle. Jake shouldn’t be so embarrassed by his obvious arousal—cock flushed a needy, dusky pink and glistening with precum—but he feels vulnerable, human. Casting his gaze away, slouching so the blouse he’s wearing might hide him a little more, he’s acting like Heeseung didn’t write two years’ worth of diary entries about him. 

 

If Heeseung notices that Jake is getting uncharacteristically shy (and he most likely does), he doesn’t say anything about it. He simply leans closer, his shoulders supporting the backs of Jake’s thighs and his breath reaching his cock, and he bunches the blouse up to his ribs, holds it there so he can press a feather-light kiss to Jake’s lower abdomen. 

 

Jake shuts his eyes. Holds his breath. Heeseung wraps a broad hand around his dick and that breath comes out as a desperate cry. The throbbing ache inside him pulses white-hot. Of course he knew it’d feel amazing, but he underestimated how his body would react to Heeseung’s touch, to the big, deft hands that he’s been drooling over all this time. 

 

Maybe he’s reacting like he’s in heat because of the buildup. 

 

As if Heeseung is pulling an invisible bowstring, each soft, loving stroke has Jake’s back arching deeper, his arms shooting out and scrambling to tangle into the closest parts of Heeseung they can, blouse and necklace and hair. 

 

Heeseung hums in a way that soothes, in that musical tone of his, and splays his free hand over Jake’s quivering abs. “Will you look at me, darling?” 

 

Jake can’t deny him. He whines under his breath at the request, but tilts his chin down and lets his eyes flutter open regardless. 

 

“Good,” Heeseung murmurs, giving Jake’s cock a grateful squeeze on a toe-curling upstroke. “My perfect familiar. So sweet, so good for me.” 

 

Jake’s responding moan slips into a pout. “What about my promotion?” 

 

“Oh?” 

 

“To your lover.” 

 

Heeseung smiles, arousal-pink lips curling around blinding white teeth and, fuck, he makes those sharp, venomous fangs look so cute. “Mh, indeed. I suppose, then, I should follow your orders as much as you’d follow mine. So…” He secures his hand around the base of Jake’s cock, rubbing the underside with his thumb, then caresses the sensitive head with his lips as he speaks. “What should I do for you, my pretty lover?” 

 

It wasn’t supposed to go like this, really. Jake always thought he’d be the one to get on his knees, to serve his master, do anything it took to please him. He still wants to, but Heeseung’s mouth is right there and Jake needs an orgasm yesterday; he’s a human, alright? A sexually deprived one, at that. 

 

“Suck me off,” he whines. “Please. Need it.” 

 

With a noise rumbling low in his chest, something like a purr, Heeseung laps up the precum that’s steadily leaking from Jake’s cock, gripping his waist when the shocking coolness of his tongue makes him flinch. Then he wraps his lips around him—stretches out that perfect cupid’s bow and flutters those dark lashes and flexes that sharp jaw—and that’s all Jake can see before his eyes are welling up and rolling back.

 

“Oh, Heeseung,” Jake moans, burying both hands into Heeseung’s hair; he doesn’t know if he wants to pull him in or yank at him until he drips his honeyed voice over his dick, fingers trembling around fistfuls of silken strands as he settles on taking exactly what Heeseung wants to give him. He knows it won’t take long for his feverish cock to warm Heeseung’s lips and tongue and—Hell, even if that weren’t the case, he can’t possibly mind the cold at a time like this. The love of his life, of his eternity, is literally going down on him. 

 

Heeseung sinks his lips to the hilt with an ease that’d be humbling if it didn’t take hundreds of years of practice, the head of Jake’s cock fitting right into the fluttering tightness of his throat. All of that teasing before, and he’s going in on Jake’s cock now that he’s tasted it, bobbing his head and roving his tongue around every inch and letting his spit soak what it may; his chin and cheeks and nose, his hands and his billowy sleeves, Jake’s balls and inner thighs, somehow. And not a single fang drags against Jake’s skin. 

 

This is the sort of skill that Jake can hardly fathom. But, to be fair, he can’t even fathom his own ragged breath right now, nor the temperature of his own body, nor the difference between up and down. All he knows is Heeseung and wetness and hot, sticky pleasure flooding his core. 

 

“Fuck, fuck,” he wails, legs quivering around Heeseung’s head, nails scraping against his scalp. “Whatthefuck I’m gonna fucking come wh-what the fuck!” 

 

Heeseung encourages him with a soft moan, stilling to focus his relentless tongue on Jake’s tip as he strokes him to the edge of his sanity (if he had any to start with). Grip tight and slippery with spit and precum, tongue passionate yet intentional with each swipe, firm shoulders flexing under Jake’s thighs. 

 

Jake comes like an absolute bitch. He thinks he blacks out a little bit, everything reduced to the eruption of pleasure between his legs, his cock twitching with each spurt of cum into Heeseung’s willing mouth. He’s probably pulling some of Heeseung’s hair out (he’d still love him if he was bald) and definitely choking on some humiliating sort of sob. When he comes down from it, teary-eyed and panting, with his tongue out like a dog, his legs are still tingling. 

 

Heeseung pulls away, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and gulps, swallowing every last drop of Jake’s bliss. “Sex looks lovely on you,” he comments, as if he hasn’t done enough damage to Jake’s brain cells already. 

 

Jake huffs and folds himself over to awkwardly wrap his arms around Heeseung’s neck, cheek pressed to the top of his head. “You’d look lovely on me. So… bedroom?” 

🦇

It doesn’t take much convincing. Just a syrupy please and a tug at his choker, and suddenly Heeseung is depositing Jake at the foot of his bed. 

 

Jake reaches out to grab at him, to tackle him into the sheets, but only gets handfuls of air. “Hey,” he whines, watching Heeseung kneel in front of the fireplace and fiddle with a matchbox procured from seemingly nothing. “Come over here and get naked.” 

 

A hiss, a crackle of fire. Heeseung dips the flame and his voice toward the stone hearth. “Let me do this first. You’re shivering.” 

 

“I’m not shivering,” Jake argues. He won’t admit that he’s grateful for the fire, or that he has goosebumps all the way down his bare legs. There are more important matters to address first, like the fact that he hasn’t gotten a single article of clothing off of Lee Heeseung’s body. “I’m shaking, actually. And it’s your fault for being so good at sucking dick.” 

 

Warm light flickers into the room, spills over stone flooring and outlines the pretty slope of Heeseung’s nose. “Ah, I’m sorry. Do you need something to eat? Or drink?” 

 

“I need you to stop being a dork before I fucking explode. Come here.”  

 

As he stands to his full height and looms closer, Heeseung visibly fights back a smile at Jake’s desperation. He’s never smiled so much in one night; Jake thinks he should do it more often. 

 

“You seem rather incensed that I care for your well-being,” Heeseung teases, and he’s close enough now to be in the danger zone. 

 

So Jake strikes, yanking Heeseung by the vest, down and into the vacant space between his legs. 

 

And, with his quick reflexes, Heeseung braces his hands on either side of Jake’s head, the only thing keeping them from smacking their heads together as they tumble onto the bed. The tingling warmth of their closeness is instant—much more effective than that damn fire. 

 

Heeseung’s smile breaks loose, then, set out by a breathless laugh. 

 

“If you, ahem—” Jake pauses to summon Heeseung’s ancient, vaguely European accent so he can mock him. “If you cared for my well-being, you’d be tackling what’s at the top of my needs pyramid.” 

 

Heeseung raises an eyebrow. His face is agonizingly close, and his hips are hovering less than an inch above Jake’s. If he could just— “And what is that, my darling?” 

 

“You, touching me,” Jake says, smoothing his hands up and down Heeseung’s chest. “Obviously.” 

 

“Our needs align.” The glint in Heeseung’s eye tells Jake he’s planning to tease longer, but he swoops in to catch Jake’s mouth in another breathtaking kiss. 

 

It’s as if Jake cracked a dam open by confessing, completely disrupting Heeseung’s typically maddening self-control, his patience. Or maybe he’s been hoping to sweep Jake away all this time. Maybe he’s greedier than Jake thought. Whatever it is, he damn sure isn’t complaining. 

 

Heeseung must be losing his resolve one way or the other, because his kisses are wetter now, more insistent, small noises rumbling in his chest as he explores seemingly every square centimeter of Jake’s mouth. 

 

With a clear goal in his blissfully hazy mind, Jake goes for Heeseung’s clothes, mouth moving easily under Heeseung’s lead as his hands scramble down the buttons of his vest. Heeseung catches on quickly and helps him get rid of his clothes, his hands steady and practiced whereas Jake’s are just in the way, plucking at fabrics and grasping indulgently at bare skin. They’re making pretty good progress—considering Jake’s restless, clumsy hands and his knees knocking into Heeseung’s thighs and ribs every two seconds—until they get to the belt. 

 

Damn that clunky old thing, fashionable but the metal is weirdly crafted, and the mechanics of it just make no sense. Could’ve been part of a chastity belt at some point. Perhaps Jake’s foresight isn’t the best. 

 

Heeseung has to gently redirect Jake’s hands to rest against his toned pecs (a win is a win) so he can focus on the damn thing, pursing his lips and tugging until one of its buckles flies across the room. It shatters a mirror and Jake has to choke back an incredulous laugh. 

 

Look, Heeseung may be a hungry and murderous vampire, but he’s never been destructive, per se. Jake is pleased to see physical evidence that he’s making Heeseung lose his mind, even if in the form of glittering shards of glass he’ll have to sweep up later. Unless his promotion involves— oh fuck Heeseung is pulling his pants down. And he’s not wearing underwear?? Now that Jake thinks of it, with his unlimited access to Heeseung’s wardrobe, he’s never seen a single undergarment. That fact combined with the sight of Heeseung’s thick cock bobbing up toward his abdomen simply obliterates Jake’s brain. 

 

Jake stares, rapt as a shiny trail of precum leaks from Heeseung’s swollen tip. Woof. “I need it in me,” he says direly. 

 

Heeseung’s eyes go round, irises such a sweet, juicy red they look like pots of strawberry jam. “Jake, I—” He pauses to lick his lips, looking between their bodies and, by the looks of it, gauging their size difference. He sounds wounded when he says, “I want to. Every time you prance around the castle in those tantalizing little shorts, I ache to feel your beautiful legs around me as I sink into you.” 

 

“Please.” Jake hooks his legs behind Heeseung’s waist so he can pull him in closer, both their breaths hitching when their dicks rub up against each other. “Fuck me. However you want to; doggy, cowgirl, up, down, sideways— just please—”

 

Heeseung will probably hesitate, fuss too heavily over Jake’s comfort and safety, tell him he doesn’t want to hurt him, ask him if he wants a glass of water or a fucking extra pillow or something. There’s that telltale furrow in his brow, but what he says is: “We need lubricant.” Oh. 

 

“The nightstand,” Jake says quickly. “I bought a personal bottle. Just in case… for us…” Forget the condoms, at this point. He hopes Heeseung ignores the condoms. 

 

Heeseung moves in a literal flash, the lube practically teleporting into his hand. The slippery substance is already coating his fingers. “May I?” he asks, dipping his hand down between them. 

 

“I think I’ll open the curtains in the morning if you don’t.” 

 

The corner of Heeseung’s mouth ticks up. He knows that Jake is bluffing. The look in his eyes says he’s anticipating a long, beautiful relationship wherein one doesn’t burn the other to a crisp. It’s comforting, warming. 

 

Jake startles at the cold lube touching his sensitive hole, but melts into the sheets when Heeseung’s thick finger starts to slip inside. 

🦇

“I can’t take it anymore, please. Please. Heeseung!” Jake sounds like a little bitch—looks like one, too, cheeks candy-apple red, hair a mess from tossing his head from side to side, tears glistening underneath his eyes—and he can’t possibly care. 

 

See, he came to find out why, exactly, Heeseung hadn’t hesitated to agree to fuck him; to possibly hurt him. Because he’s so determined not to hurt him, he’s been fingering him for the past half hour. The kisses and praise he’s been showering Jake with could only curb his appetite for so long. 

 

Heeseung’s fingers are thick, three of them a welcomed stretch, his middle finger just long enough to jab at Jake’s prostate here and there, enough stimulation to bring him to the edge of insanity. And this view isn’t bad either; Heeseung might not be able to sweat, but oh boy can he glow. His skin takes to light like the most finely sanded marble, his face chiseled and collarbones prominent, lips a red so lively to his paleness that he looks like he just fed. 

 

Jake seriously can’t take it anymore. 

 

“You still feel tight,” Heeseung says, and Jake swears he’s curling his fingers into his prostate just to see him squirm. 

 

“Good.” Jake’s voice comes out reedy, a little coarse from begging. He sounds deranged. “I want you to feel good.” 

 

Heeseung shakes his head. “I’ll only feel good if you feel good.” 

 

“Trust me: if you’d just fuck me already, I’d definitely feel good. Come on, lover. Make love to me.”  

 

That seems to do the trick.

 

Jake gasps when Heeseung’s fingers come out with an embarrassing squelch, leaving his hole to flutter and pulse around nothing. 

 

“You’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable? If I’m hurting you?” Heeseung asks as he douses his palm and cock with damn near the whole bottle of lube, as he wraps a fist around himself. 

 

Jake doubts he could ever be uncomfortable in Heeseung’s presence, let alone his embrace. Nodding anyway, he wraps his arms around Heeseung’s middle and clutches at the musculature of his back. Heeseung settles in closer, forcing Jake’s thighs farther apart to accommodate, leaning over his trembling form to bury his face into the crook of Jake’s shoulder. He doesn’t even have to look; the head of his cock easily finds Jake’s hole, kisses the wet rim. 

 

When he slides in, the world shifts around them like a kaleidoscope, color bursting across Jake’s vision as he’s filled to the brim in one swift thrust. He cries out at the same time that Heeseung mutters a low “ fuck.”  

 

First time Jake has ever heard Lee Heeseung cuss. It’s an honor. 

 

Jake will appreciate that later. Right now, his focus is swallowed up by the way his ass is swallowing up Heeseung’s big, throbbing cock. The way he’s stretched around him, the dull pain not nearly enough to deter him from pushing his hips closer, from taking Heeseung as deep as he physically can. 

 

Heeseung has both of his forearms above Jake’s head now, and there’s the obvious sound of satin ripping and— wow, vampires really do that shit? Jay always said that Twilight was a wildly inaccurate depiction. But here Heeseung is ripping up his own bed set. “You feel so good,” he groans, lips buzzing against Jake’s sweaty skin. 

 

Jake whimpers at the simple praise and digs his nails into the marble of Heeseung’s back. 

 

Heeseung takes that as enough of a response—good, because Jake can’t find any words—to reel his hips back and slide back in, his cock angled just right to drag deliciously against Jake’s prostate. 

 

That pushes some words from Jake’s mouth, namely: “Fuck— Heeseung, more, more! Fuck me— ohh.” 

 

His eyes go unfocused (probably crossed) when Heeseung obliges and sets a rhythm that is instantly mind-boggling, steady and strong, hitting just right with each slide home. 

 

Jake starts to moan and wonders where the Hell the noises are even coming from—sure, that’s his voice but it’s so… guttural. So pornographic. 

 

“You’re perfect,” Heeseung sings into the heat of his neck. His mouth is a mess of wetness and pressure and reverence. “So fucking beautiful. My darling.” His darling. Jake swears he feels the sharp edge of a fang at one point, and certainly feels the roughness of Heeseung’s tongue swiping over his carotid vein over and over. 

 

Jake should be scared. He’s not. He tosses his head back, only thrumming with pleasure when Heeseung growls in response to the wider expanse of flesh. 

 

“Bite me,” he chokes out, nails raking all the way up Heeseung’s back and neck, into his hair. “Please fucking bite me, take me. Take me, I’m yours!” 

 

“Jake,” Heeseung pleads, voice rough and watery. His thrusts have become hard enough to rock the entire four-poster, heavy wood clattering against the stone wall. “Do not tempt me— fuck— you little siren.” 

 

Jake moans loudly enough to outshine the entire orgy downstairs, trying to spit out any semblance of Heeseung’s name between his syrupy emissions. “Plea— ah, ‘Seung! Please!” 

 

Heeseung sucks in a ragged breath. “Forgive me, my darling,” he whispers, then there’s a searing pain, like a hot blade slicing into Jake’s skin. 

 

Jake screams as if he didn’t ask for it, but it tapers off into a weak, blissful sort of sigh when the warmth of the venom seeps into his bloodstream. It’s similar to alcohol in the way it has Jake going all lax and tingly, but it feels hotter. 

 

The sound of Heeseung sucking at his fresh wound is obscene—and Jake has heard Heeseung feed before, gotten turned on by it even, but he’s never been this passionate about a snack, and his mouth has never been this close to Jake’s ear. Combined with the sensations of Heeseung’s mouth working hungrily over him and his hips never faltering in their relentless pursuit of pleasure, this is what tips Jake over the edge. 

 

It’s like no orgasm he’s had before, his entire body convulsing with each shockwave of pleasure, starting from his groin and pulsing out to the tips of his fingers and toes, to the top of his head. His cock twitches pathetically where it spits out ropes of cum between their bodies. He’s sobbing at this point, his overwhelmed body rocking under Heeseung’s ministrations. Warmth oozes down his neck and pools in the dip of his collarbone, and Heeseung licks it all up gratefully, never wasting a drop. A few more licks to the bite, and Jake is sure his venom has sealed it, leaving behind a dull, prickling ache. 

 

Oh boy, Jake is lightheaded. All he can do is grasp Heeseung’s hair for dear life, legs now limp and spilled open so wide that his hips hurt. 

 

“So good,” Heeseung moans, his nose pressed to Jake’s throbbing temple. “My love, you’re so good to me.” 

 

“It-it’s my job. My job to be…” 

 

At a time like this, Heeseung has the nerve to chuckle. 

 

Jake pouts, tugging at Heeseung’s hair. “Are you gonna come?” 

 

“Oh.” Heeseung’s eyes widen. His thrusts falter as he looks down to see Jake’s release drying on their skin. “I should have informed you before we started but it’s— well… I’m 500 years old…” 

 

“Don’t tell me you—”

 

“It takes over an hour.” 

 

Jake blinks tiredly, clearing residual tears from his vision. “Why do I find that sexy?” 

 

Heeseung shrugs. The sheepish seal of his lips is horrendously cute. 

 

Jake is more than fine with letting him hit for an hour straight. 

🦇

“Told you so,” Jake lilts from his spot in Heeseung’s bridal hold, sticking his middle finger up at Jungwon as they drift by. “We’re getting married!!!” 

 

Jungwon drops his jaw and the serving tray he was holding. Lukewarm blood spills across the parlor. “You’re still helping me clean up after the orgy, right?!” 

 

“That’s no longer in my job description,” Jake says. “Good luck, man. Don’t forget to clean the cum from the ceiling.”