Chapter Text
By the next night, Jongho was fully healed and settling into his new nature.
Seonghwa immediately took in his condition, surmising he would likely want to feed very soon or risk uncomfortable levels of hunger. Jongho just told him to grab him a blood bag, no fanfare about it. He downed it with the sort of ambivalence that seemed to be completely in-character. He wasn’t reveling in vampirism, but he wasn’t having an existential crisis either. A pleasant happy-medium.
Once he was feeling better, everyone made sure to visit him throughout the night.
Other than being outright tackled by San and hugged within an inch of his—as of now—un-life, Jongho was greeted rather calmly by everyone. Yeosang & Wooyoung asked him a few questions, but weren’t too probative, which he was grateful for. He didn’t really feel like reliving all the gory details. Hongjoong and Yunho came to see him together, their argument apparently completely settled and entirely put behind them. Jongho could not have been more relieved. Eden gave him a small pep-talk, which actually meant more to Jongho than perhaps the other hunter even realized. Seonghwa checked on him sporadically throughout the day… and that left only Mingi.
Mingi was last.
Jongho would’ve been lying if he’d claimed he wasn’t waiting for it to be him standing in his doorway. He was always happy for the company, but he still felt disappointment seep in when he saw it was someone else.
It was nearly sunrise when Mingi finally entered his room.
Jongho actually startled slightly, probably making a rather shocked face before Mingi was bounding onto the bed, wrapping him up tightly in his arms and burying his face into Jongho’s chest.
He was sniveling and crying, and through his blubbering, it took Jongho a while to realize he was just softly repeating a single phrase.
“I’m sorry.”
Jongho petted his hair and waited for him to calm down before asking him what there even was for him to apologize for.
“I wasn’t there for you.” Mingi explained, his tone as broken as his expression.
“I’ve mostly been unconscious.” Jongho reminded him.
“Yeah, but… once you did wake up. I still had to psych myself up to come and see you.” Mingi admitted. “I just… because I couldn’t hear your heartbeat anymore, I kept thinking if I came in here, you’d be—”
He swallowed with a shudder. He couldn’t even say it.
“Mingi…” Jongho murmured softly, kissing his hair before the other finally pulled back to look at him. “It’s fine. I’m… glad you were last. I wanted us to have more time together.”
Somehow, that still just made Mingi’s expression fall even deeper into guilt.
“No, don’t—don’t do that. I feel bad enough as it is.” Jongho said.
Mingi startled at that, his brow pinching in concern. “Why would you feel bad?”
“I just do.” Jongho murmured. “I knew this would be hard on you, no matter how it happened… and apparently it just had to happen in the worst way possible.”
“But it’s not your fault.” Mingi insisted. “You can’t blame yourself for this and you definitely can’t blame yourself for how I reacted.”
Jongho frowned. “Even so… it still feels like I’m the one holding a knife and you’ve got a bunch of stab wounds.”
“C’mon, don’t be so dramatic. I’m not Hongjoong; I’m not gonna make your turning all about me.” Mingi quipped, managing a dry huff of amusement.
Jongho snorted at that. “Why do I feel like he’s gonna get trolled for that for weeks?”
“Years! But maybe not to his face, it’s probably still a sore subject.” Mingi replied.
“Fair point.” Jongho agreed.
They fell into a comfortable silence after that, but it wasn’t too long until Mingi broke it again.
“I know people’ve been crowding you all day, but… could I… sleep here? With you?” He murmured, picking at a loose thread at the edge of his own shirt.
Jongho let out a soft breath, shaking his head. “What kind of question is that? Of course you can. I’m actually kind of exhausted, so—”
“Huh? Yeah, we don’t have to keep talking… you should rest.” Mingi said, making a scene of wriggling under the blankets and sliding up into Jongho’s space.
Jongho just laughed and wrapped his arms around Mingi, resting his head on one of the other man’s broad shoulders.
The sleep he quickly found may not have been entirely devoid of nightmares, but it was still a comfort to have Mingi there with him through it all.
***
Sunrise reached Seongnam, and with it, the vampires returned to their rooms to sleep. Seonghwa had done a cursory check on Jongho before retiring himself, but when he found him cuddled up with Mingi, the two of them already sound asleep, he chose not to disturb them, and instead let them be.
Despite the somber mood of the last days’ events, there was a certain levity that had returned to the mansion. While it was a terrible thing that Jongho had gone through, the cracks that had splintered throughout the coven and left it divided had seemingly been filled. Yunho and Hongjoong had been virtually inseparable in the early hours, and it did not appear there was any lingering resentment from the others toward the hunter’s previous transgressions, at least outwardly.
At the end of the day, they were all too grateful that the family was getting along to hold onto those negative emotions any longer. Even Yeosang appeared to have been pacified, making small talk with Hongjoong without an iota of malice as they crossed paths in the feeding room.
Though hard-won and draining, Seonghwa knew he had to see this moment as a victory.
And a victory though it had been, he knew things would never be the same.
As he prepared for bed, he found his eyes wandering to his open bedroom door, wondering for just how long things would be different.
Hongjoong had been avoiding him for weeks. He did not expect that to change overnight, but it would have been a lie to claim he did not hope nonetheless.
He knew his hunter was not held back by some sense of hubris or ego. It was not pride keeping Hongjoong away. It was shame.
Not precisely a step forward, but a step in another direction. Seonghwa was not sure it was a better one.
Lost in his own thoughts, he did not notice someone had darkened his doorway until their soft voice reached him.
“H-hey…”
He turned instantly. In the hallway stood Hongjoong, chastened and hesitant.
Seonghwa was startled, though he did his best to disguise it. “Hongjoong, please, come in.”
The hunter nodded, closing the door behind him and wringing his hands as he approached.
“Um… I guess I just… didn’t wanna be alone tonight. Would it be okay if I—?”
“Of course, my love. You needn’t even ask, you know that.” Seonghwa told him softly.
“Yeah, I know, but… still…” Hongjoong cleared his throat awkwardly, his gaze straying between Seonghwa and the bed. It was as though he was gearing up to ask for further permission, but forced himself to swallow it down.
Seonghwa simply could not stand to watch him wrestle with himself any longer.
He crossed the room and pulled him into a fervent embrace, pressing his cheek against Hongjoong’s temple as he threaded a hand through the other’s hair.
Hongjoong stiffened at first, but melted into it almost immediately, clasping his arms tightly around Seonghwa’s middle as he leaned into the touch.
There were so many things he wanted to say, yet the words would not come.
Seonghwa’s embrace told him he needn’t say anything at all.
He didn’t know how long they stood there, but eventually, Seonghwa pulled back, kissed his hair gently and led him to the bed.
“Here, make yourself comfortable. I’ll return shortly.”
Once he received a sort of placid nod from Hongjoong, he headed over to his closet to get changed. He settled on a pair of black silk pajamas, as a robe felt presumptuous and nothing at all felt even more so.
When he returned to the main part of the room, Hongjoong was still just sitting at the edge of the bed with his hollow expression trained toward the floor. Seonghwa felt his heart breaking once more for him.
He settled in the space next to him, placing a gentle hand on his thigh.
“Would you… like to talk?”
“I don’t even… remotely know where to start.” Hongjoong admitted with a huge sigh.
“It can be difficult to wade through a torrent of emotions. You have been through so much.” Seonghwa murmured. “I would advise starting with whichever thought is at the forefront of your mind at the moment.”
“I guess I’m just stuck on… where do we even go from here?” Hongjoong hissed.
“The simplest answer to that is… forward.” Seonghwa told him. “In time, everyone will heal and move on. We should not dwell on the things we cannot change. What has already been done cannot be undone. We can only learn from it and continue on, better for having such new understanding.”
“Okay.” Hongjoong resigned, his shoulders dropping. “But what about… I was the one who turned Jongho. And sires are supposed to have a—a special bond, or whatever, with their fledgling, except… I just don’t… feel that way.”
“Tell me how you do feel.” Seonghwa said.
“Just kind of… like I did before, you know?” Hongjoong replied. “I feel like if I let Jongho out of my sight he’s gonna get into some kind of trouble, or he’ll be hurt—but now it’s worse, because it’s my fault he was hurt that night and I couldn’t even protect him. All my greatest fears came true but I was right there and it still didn’t matter.”
“You saved his life, Hongjoong.” Seonghwa reminded him. “He may no longer be human, but he is still with us, and that is because of you.”
“Yeah but I don’t—it doesn’t feel like I’ve earned it, you know? That… that bond.” Hongjoong admitted.
“Fledgling and sire relationships manifest in varying ways. You needn’t feel that you must follow some kind of blueprint in order to do it correctly. At the end of the day, Jongho is a fledgling of this coven, and therefore, he is my responsibility.” Seonghwa explained. “That does not preclude your own bond with him… it does not erase or supersede it—except, perhaps, legally, though that is neither here nor there—however, it does not mean that things must change between the two of you, if you do not want them to.”
“I thought that maybe, if he was less breakable, I’d feel less protective of him.” Hongjoong told him. “But now I just keep thinking of all the ways he’s in even more danger. Between daylight, Sunrise, rogue hunters and even just the greater public, it’s all just—it feels like he isn’t any safer at all.”
“That is… much the way I felt about your turning.” Seonghwa admitted softly. “And Eden’s as well. It is a bane and a boon both, vampirism. Your work is dangerous whether you are human or immortal. Vampirism is not invulnerability. It is not a shield… it is merely a different set of armor. Nothing is infallible.”
Hongjoong hummed, nodding mostly to himself. Talking things through with Seonghwa tended to help… when he bothered to listen. Over the last month, he had waved away any and all such attempts at constructive conversation, and it was clear he still felt guilty over that.
“You still seem troubled.” Seonghwa said after a long moment of silence.
Hongjoong sighed, offering a helpless shrug. “I guess I’m—I feel like I’ve just… shattered everyone’s opinion of me. I acted like a complete asshole, I’ve obviously destroyed their trust in me—how am I supposed to tell them they can count on me to protect them?”
“I think the most important thing will be to show them.” Seonghwa told him gently. “I cannot speak to how the others will continue to think of you… but I know that when I look back on this time, it will be to remember how you overcame so much pain, not to ruminate on your mistakes.”
Seonghwa was proud of him. But he also ached for him.
He knew that the guilt of how he had treated Yunho was eating away at him. Receiving his forgiveness was both liberating and crushing—he was grateful to have Yunho’s friendship, but he felt undeserving of such easy absolution after what he had done—Seonghwa could tell.
“Sometimes… the greatest consequence of our actions is our own guilt.” Seonghwa continued, heavy with meaning as he cupped Hongjoong’s face in both of his hands. “But that is not to say that we should carry it with us forever. Part of consequence is learning where we went wrong, and working to do better.”
Hongjoong’s shoulders fell. “I just feel like the things I said, the way I acted—so much of it was just… unforgivable.”
Seonghwa gave him a piteous look, then, stroking his thumbs over Hongjoong’s cheeks.
“Forgiveness is not decided by the receiver. The only person whose forgiveness you need is Yunho… and he has given it freely.” Seonghwa reminded him. “Now, you must learn to forgive yourself.”
Hongjoong gave a mirthless huff. “I somehow recall the two of us having this particular conversation some years ago, only in reverse.”
Seonghwa gave him a melancholy smile, releasing him, though only so that he could take both of Hongjoong’s hands into his own.
“Whether it takes days, or decades, or centuries, or a thousand years… I will be here to remind you that you are worthy of such forgiveness.”
“Oh how the turn-tables.” Hongjoong replied with a wet laugh. “Are we just gonna spend every few years going back and forth on this? God, I hope not.”
“That would be… less than ideal.” Seonghwa admitted. “But if that is the journey we must make together—so be it. It is still my privilege to walk beside you.”
“Wow, it’s been like a month since I’ve heard your sappy romantic ramblings and it’s still too much to handle.” Hongjoong teased.
Seonghwa shook his head, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Rude.”
The silence they fell into then was far more comfortable, though a thread of uneasiness still stretched between them. Seonghwa eventually offered a soft smile, gently pulling Hongjoong toward the pillows.
“Come, it’s gotten rather late. We should sleep.”
Hongjoong hesitated to follow after him, however, his gaze lowered and a million thoughts clearly racing through his head. He was so clearly torn about something, and Seonghwa regarded him patiently as they settled under the covers.
“My love…?”
Something in the hunter seemed to break. He finally turned to Seonghwa, his eyes glistening as he struggled to find the words.
“I know that I’ve been unfair to you, that I’ve used you, that I’ve used you in that way so many times before, but I just—I really… I really need you. I need to know that you still want me. That you don’t hate me for the way I acted. I just—I need to know that I still have you.”
“Oh, Hongjoong…” Seonghwa cooed, pulling back to cradle his face in both of his palms once more. “You have me. You will always have me. You could never use me in a way that I did not expressly allow. Everything I give of myself, I give freely. Even if I suspect that it is not always what you truly need, know that I am yours… in all ways.”
Hongjoong didn’t say anything else—he just grabbed the collar of Seonghwa’s pajamas and pulled the other man on top of him, hauling him close until he could kiss him.
Warmth erupted in Seonghwa’s chest at the display of affection, and he surged forward to meet him gladly. For a moment, they were nothing more than a flurry of limbs and fabric as everything between them was removed, until they were bare and entwined. Seonghwa wanted to take his time, but he knew what Hongjoong needed, and he knew he could not give him anything less.
Hongjoong’s eyes were still sparkling, even as his lashes fluttered with every movement from Seonghwa above him.
Seonghwa’s own eyes locked upon Hongjoong’s, and did not release them for anything.
He watched as Hongjoong fell apart beneath him, only to meticulously put him back together again. It was his privilege to do so for as long as the other would allow.
***
Mingi had finally agreed to leave Jongho’s side again after some cajoling. He may have not been able to stomach seeing him while he was still unconscious, but once he’d seen him awake, he’d practically plastered himself to Jongho and not let him go for anything. Admittedly, after all that attention, Jongho felt it was nice to have the room to himself again. It didn’t last long, however, because Mingi hadn’t been gone for twenty minutes before Seonghwa appeared in the doorway.
“Jongho, may I speak with you?”
Cordial and formal as ever, their patriarch stood at the threshold of the room and did not enter until he was invited.
“Yeah, of course.” Jongho said.
Seonghwa smiled, finally approaching. He seemed to take in the other’s condition, scanning the room as well. Another empty blood bag, discarded bandages… he could surmise much from the contents of Jongho’s trash can.
“How are you adjusting?” He asked anyway.
“It’s not as different as I expected.” Jongho admitted. “I still feel like me, more than I thought I would.”
“You wouldn’t be the first to say such.” Seonghwa replied.
“Mingi’s been babying me.” Jongho said with a laugh. “Can’t say I’m surprised, but it’s been a bit much.”
“I imagine so. This incident has hit him the hardest. He was virtually inconsolable the night you returned.” Seonghwa told him.
Jongho frowned guiltily, eyes downcast. “I hate that… he had to go through this. Even turning Yunho himself, in a safe and controlled way, was so hard on him. I know this must have killed him inside.”
“Mingi is resilient. He will grieve, he will mourn, but he will return to his normal self in time.” Seonghwa assured.
“I hope so.” Jongho murmured. “Honestly, I was hoping that after… I could… offer him more, you know? To help him past all this. Like a… hidden benefit. Some kind of silver lining. But…”
Seonghwa’s brows drew in briefly in confusion before they rose in alarm. “Jongho, no…”
“Yeah, I’m not gonna lie, some small part of me was hoping that once I’d changed I’d maybe be less… y’know. Ace.” Jongho admitted, sounding somewhat ashamed. “But contrary to the religious propaganda, it turns out that becoming a vampire doesn’t instantly make you a hedonistic nymphomaniac.”
Seonghwa chuckled, shaking his head chidingly. “I think you knew better than that, darling boy. You are who you are and we love you all the same. While I understand your instinct to wish to… fit in, I do hope that you know that you do not need to change a single thing about yourself to do so.”
“I dunno, I sure feel like I’m really part of the coven now that I’ve finally been changed.” Jongho teased.
Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at him, huffing a soft laugh. “Well, I am pleased to find you have lost none of your sense of humor.”
“Yeah, me too.” Jongho murmured. After a moment, he pressed his lips together before looking up with determination in his eyes. “So… why’re you really here, Seonghwa?”
The other regarded him for a moment. “Astute as always… however, I believe you already know the answer to that question.”
Jongho sighed, shoulders falling in defeat. His ruse was up.
“What gave me away?”
“Eden is very thorough.” Seonghwa said, sitting at the end of the bed and lacing his fingers over his knee. “He was able to track down the communication that went out to the suspected Sunrise-affiliated hunters, informing them of your itinerary and perceived transgressions. Someone had to have tipped them off, and as only you and Hongjoong had that information…”
“Had to be an inside job.” Jongho finished for him.
“I… don’t believe I need to impress to you just how reckless your actions were.” Seonghwa told him. “Had your injuries been immediately fatal, had Hongjoong done something wrong in the turning process, had the hunters managed to kill Hongjoong… there were many variables that came down to chance.”
“Yeah.” Jongho murmured. “I left a lot of it up to fate, I guess. But… I would have done anything to keep this family together.”
Seonghwa let out a soft breath, his smile melancholy. “I know.”
“I thought a lot about how I wanted to be turned. Even before all this.” Jongho admitted, stroking his thumb over the duvet absently. “In the end, I just wanted it to mean something.”
“And was it everything you’d hoped?” Seonghwa asked.
Jongho nodded, remembering the way he’d woken to see Yunho and Hongjoong wrapped around each other, sound asleep.
“More than.”
“Good.” Seonghwa replied, standing as though to take his leave.
Jongho frowned before speaking up again. “Seonghwa… I know I’m asking a lot with this, but. Don’t tell Hongjoong?”
“I will not tell him, so long as he never asks.” Seonghwa promised, leaning in to press a kiss to Jongho’s forehead. “I had Eden cover your tracks, so let us hope that he never thinks to ask.”
“Thanks.”
“I know you were the last of us to be turned.” Seonghwa said, his voice heavy with meaning as he petted through the other’s hair. “But you will be the glue which holds us together in the centuries to come, Choi Jongho. I am certain of it.”
Jongho smiled, because that was a purpose worth living for… for the rest of eternity.