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Eternal Night

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‘Some of them are funny,’ Yoongi thinks as he walks through the gallery.

They are frozen in the most inconsequential poses: finger guns or sticking out their tongues. One statue of a woman is hunched over against the wall, hand still clutching her cell, earbuds embedded in her marble ears.

On the platform, it reads, ‘Girl With iPhone, donated by the KVS.’

Yoongi couldn’t fathom it himself. Did they stop caring? Did spending a hundred lonely years without a mate make them indifferent to it? Or had they simply made peace with their impending doom?

And why does any of this matter?

Well, because Yoongi has only one year left to live.

It’s the curse of his kind, children of the night, guardians of the dark. Vampires. They live one hundred years and not a day more without a mate. Those that manage to pair off, eternal life. Those that don’t, they call it the ‘eternal night.’

In other words, they turn into marble and get donated to art shows and museums.

“Why did you bring me here?” Yoongi groans, folding his arms, pouting into his scarf.

His two best friends are a distance in front of him, joined at the hands. There’s Namjoon, tall, commanding, and sharply handsome. Then there’s Jungkook, powerful, but sweet-faced, with warm eyes. They’d met young, in their twenties, and have been inseparable ever since.

“To scare you, hyung,” Jungkook sighs. “If you don’t find someone soon, this is where we’ll have to come to see you!”

“You only have twelve months,” Namjoon reminds him. “Can you at least try going on a date?”

Yoongi sighs. In his seventies, boy, did he go on a lot of dates. Now, he’s lost all motivation. “You guys don’t get it. You found each other way before it got dangerous. I don’t want to get hitched to someone just for the sake of living forever. I want it to be—”

How can he explain it? They don’t know. He wants to find a love like theirs. He wants someone to look at him the way Namjoon looks at Jungkook when the younger’s not paying attention.

“— serendipitous.”

Namjoon blinks at him, eyebrow raised, slack-jawed. “Okay, no.”

Jungkook grabs him by the coat sleeve, pulling him along, back into the busy of the street. “We’re going to find you a date tonight. There’s plenty of eligible vampires that would love to sink their teeth into you.”

“First of all, you’re better than vampire puns,” Yoongi chides, his pace set at brisk, as he marches down the block. “Second, just eww.”

“Just pick a place,” Namjoon orders, gesturing across the street.

There are a number of venues lining the walkway, popular points that vampires like to hang out at: a bar, a gentleman’s club, and a billiard lounge. There’s also a tiny bookstore at the end, and Yoongi promptly points there.

“Hyung,” Namjoon begins, complaint mounted on his lips.

“You said to pick a place,” Yoongi retorts, already crossing the street, “and I did.”

“A place where you’ll actually meet someone,” Jungkook clarifies.

It’s already too late, Yoongi pushes the door open, stepping inside. It’s nothing special, miles of books in plastic cases, a small coffee shop inside, and a few tables where students are studying.

Namjoon sighs, realizing they’ve reached an impasse. “I’m gonna go look at what they have in stock.” Jungkook quickly takes his hand without a word, joining him. The way they move with one another, so seamlessly, it makes Yoongi wistful.

The vampire, left to his own devices, decides to get a coffee and take a seat by the window. He sighs, breath fogging up the glass, taking a sip of his brew, which does nothing for him, being undead and all.

And that’s when he sees him.

There’s a boy sitting on one of the bean bag chairs at the far end corner, curled up with a book that probably weighs a metric ton, smiling softly to himself. His blonde hair falls effortlessly over his eyes. Yoongi’s never seen anyone that beautiful before, or so completely wrapped up in his own world, someplace private and wonderful.

Yoongi’s body moves on its own. Gliding along the ground, he takes the nearest seat, watching for a moment more. When he’s caught, he can’t bear to look away, despite his own embarrassment.

“Oh, I-uh- sorry.”

“It’s okay,” the boy replies, voice impossibly soft, with full lips set above a tapered chin. “Did you want one of the books behind me?”

Yoongi’s eyes flicker to the shelf that the human’s sitting in front of. It’s a perfectly valid excuse, a little white lie that can get him out of an uncomfortable situation, but he finds he simply can’t.

“I’m here with my friends,” Yoongi explains. “They made me come out tonight. I’m supposed to be picking up guys, finding a date.”

The boy laughs, pressing a clothed hand to his mouth, sleeves simply too long. His eyes crinkle up in a way that has Yoongi’s hands shaking.

“You came to a bookstore to hook up with people,” the boy replies incredulously.

“Bookstores are valid places to meet people,” Yoongi defends, nervously adjusting his scarf, chin jutting out. The tips of his fangs catch the fluorescent lighting. “Well-read people.”

The boy stares at his mouth with a dogged fixation. “Y-You’re a vampire.”

Yoongi draws back a pace, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “Vampires like to read too, you know?”

“No, I did not know that,” the human readily admits.

Yoongi hears the boy’s pulse racing, making the smell of his blood all the more sweeter. The vampire doesn’t know why though. Is it fear, fascination... or something else?


Before Yoongi can say another word, Namjoon and Jungkook return from their adventures. The younger’s carrying a mountain of books, which he dumps in front of the register.

“Hyung, let’s go,” Namjoon hums. “I want to go home and read these.”

Yoongi’s torn for a moment, between his best friend and the mysterious human, whose name he doesn’t even know.

“I guess that’s your cue,” the boy hums, his mouth twisted into a wistful smile.

Everything in Yoongi’s body, all his vampire instincts, is telling him to stay, but he doesn’t understand why, and that’s too frightening to comprehend. So, he leaves.

“H-Have a good night,” Yoongi manages, and with a final wave, he rejoins his friends.


It’s been thirty-four days. Yoongi’s been counting. He thought he would have forgotten the boy by now, but he hasn’t. Every detail, every eyelash, every freckle, is firmly planted in Yoongi’s brain. But what is he to do? He has no name, no number, no means to ever find the boy again.

He’s getting desperate.

And he’s also hyper aware of how crazy he is. This isn’t normal. This isn’t the way he’d imagined it. Love at first sight, that was something he used to make fun of. When all his mated friends had told him about it, how they felt, the earth move under their feet as they stood still, he’d laughed in their faces.

But, he’s not laughing now.

Right now, he’s quickly moving under the street lamps, a scarf wound tightly over his face, heading for the bookstore for the fifth time that month in hopes of bumping into the boy again. You know, like a god damn stalker. He quietly enters the establishment, taking his regular seat by the window.

The boy’s not there, and Yoongi didn’t expect him to be. Still, he’s disappointed, all the same, wondering where he’d be if only he’d been born into this life a more romantic vampire, like those in all the spicy, young adult novels.

Instead, Yoongi is just Yoongi. He’s a little shy, awkward around strangers, and uncomfortable in crowds. He’s never swept anyone off their feet, and he’s not the hero in anyone’s story.

For ninety-nine years, that’s been true.

Yoongi catches the faintest hint of the boy’s scent, cold cream, and citrus. A second later, the vampire spots him with his superior vampire eyesight. The boy is across the street, pressed between two buildings. There’s someone else there, a masked man with a blade in his hands.

The vampire shoots out of his chair, knocking it on the floor. He runs out of there, panic pumping through his blood. He dashes across the street, nearly hitting a car, earning choice words and angry honks.

“Give me all your money,” the thief hisses, a knife against the other’s throat.

“Please, I don’t—”

Yoongi sees red, ripping the assailant away, tossing him fifteen feet, so that he collides with a pile of trash bags. The man scrambles to his feet, ready to attack. Yoongi’s fangs shoot out, and he roars, the veins in his neck popping. The other man realizes he’s way out of his league in terms of predators, turning around and running for his life.

With the threat eliminated, the vampire comes to his senses, reverting back to his timid ways. The boy’s cowering, arms covering his head.

Yoongi crouches down, mouth dry, the back of his eyeballs buzzing. “H-Hey, um, are you alright?”

The boy continues with his previous line as if he’s still being attacked. “P-Please, I don’t have any money. D-Don’t hurt me.”

Yoongi’s not sure what to do, if the boy’s in shock, or if he should call the police. He’s not reliable in dicey situations like this. Part of him is already shutting down when he spots a wallet on the floor, cards strewn about. He picks them up and hands them to the boy.

The ID reads, ‘Park Jimin.’

And just like that, the name, it’s branded on him. The vampire knows he won’t ever forget it.

“Here, you dropped this,” Yoongi whispers, “I just want to help you. I was at the bookstore and I saw what happened. Do I need to call an ambulance? Are you hurt?”

Jimin peeks up through his fingers. His lash line is heavy with tears, nose running, lips shiny with mucus. Yoongi aches, maintaining his distance, even though all he wants to do is hug the boy, comfort him, and pat his head.

“I’m— I’m okay,” Jimin replies, taking his wallet back. “I’m not hurt.”

Then why does Yoongi pick up the scent of blood? Floral notes hit the back of his throat, setting his tongue on fire. “Can you walk?” He offers Jimin his hand and pulls him up.

“I think I can make it home. Thank you so much.”

Yoongi doesn’t let go of the younger’s hand, even when the other tries to tug it away.


He is hurt. His palm is all scraped up and bleeding.

“You’re not okay,” Yoongi says seriously. “You’re bleeding. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

The boy laughs, and it hits him like windchimes. “It’s just a scratch. It’s not worth the trip. Besides, I can’t afford it. I’ll just wrap it up when I get home.”

“No,” Yoongi refuses, pulling at his scarf since it’s suddenly a million degrees. “You have to see a doctor.”

“It’s really—” Jimin pauses, studying him closely. “Hey, I know you.”

Yoongi audibly swallows. There’s no way that Jimin remembers him, right?

“You’re that vampire,” Jimin chirps, “the one that reads. I was— I was hoping to run into you again.”


Yoongi should say something, preferably something not stupid.

“Vampires read,” Yoongi answers shrilly. “A lot of vampires read. And you’re hurt, so I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Take me home instead,” Jimin says.

Yoongi trips on air, nearly hitting the ground before he steps out.

The human flushes, realizing the bluntness of his words. “I don’t mean— I meant my home.” He sighs, refocusing, shoulders squaring. “I mean, will you walk me home? I only live a few blocks from here.”

Yoongi’s hit with many hard facts at once. Firstly, despite his disproportionate feelings about the boy, he really knows nothing about him. So, it comes as a surprise.

Jimin is stubborn.

And even more surprising than that, Yoongi finds he really likes that about him.

“Okay, sure, which way is home?” the vampire asks, although he already knows.

Home is standing right in front of him.




Yoongi finds himself in the oddest of places from time to time. Right now, he’s standing in a building that should be condemned, after trudging up sixteen floors because the elevators are broken.

“It’s not as bad as it seems,” Jimin says; it’s as if he’s reading his mind. “They’re gonna renovate soon. The other tenants and I have written up a petition.”

Yoongi’s not sure how to answer, only that he should, and that whatever he says should put a smile on the other’s face.

“Hey, it’s good exercise. You have to get your cardio in somehow.”

Jimin’s smile hits him like a ton of bricks; the vampire’s memory of it had done it no justice. The way the human’s eyes crinkle up, the upturn of his lips, the inviting color of his cheeks. “True.”

The boy ushers him into the living room, flipping on the light.

Yoongi stands there for a moment, taking in the atmosphere. It’s cozy, wooden floors, worn couches, window blinds with a thin film of dust over them, candles on a coffee table that have no business being paired with one another.

“Would you like something to drink?” Jimin asks.

Yoongi shakes his head.

“Okay, wait here,” Jimin says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll go get the First Aid Kit.”

The kid quickly spins on his heels, jogging away into the hall. There’s something graceful about the way he moves. He’s more than comfortable in his body, rather, he’s an expert in it. Yoongi picks up on it.

Jimin’s a dancer, charmingly elegant, the lines of his body unfurling like a swan’s, his gait like a doe’s.

Yoongi sighs, pressing his eyelids together. He takes a seat on the sofa, sinking into the cushion. He needs to get a grip right now. He’s not this type of person, a man that goes weak at the knees because of a smile.

The vampire reminds himself that even though he has some awareness of destiny, the existence of soulmates, and the magic that’s woven into the fabric of the universe, Jimin does not. If Yoongi starts spouting off about how Jimin might be his one and true mate, when they’ve only known each other for a hot minute, Jimin’s going to get a restraining order, and that’s—

Jimin’s been a while. It shouldn’t take this long to fetch a medical kit.

Yoongi stands, shuffling down the hallway, towards the light at the last door on the left. “Are you alright? Do you need—”

The boy is crying, pressed against the wall. There’s a number of things on the counter, old prescription pills, tiny shampoo bottles, makeup, but no First Aid Kit.

“Hey, are you alright?” Yoongi says softly. Perhaps the events of the night are finally catching up with the human.

“I can’t find it,” Jimin answers, furiously wiping his tears with his good hand. “I can’t find the stupid thing. And all the stores are probably closed by now, and I almost got stabbed. What else can go wrong?”

Yoongi’s never been good at comforting other people. “At least it’s not raining.”

What does that have to do with anything?

Jimin stares at him blankly before a small smile forms on his face. “That’s— you got me there.”

Yoongi sighs internally, before scanning the small bathroom. He picks up the scent of antiseptic, and medical glue from the cabinet under the sink. The vampire pulls it open, reaches in, and fishes out the First Aid Kit. “There ya go.”

Jimin blinks the tears out of his eyes. “Hey, how’d you do that?”

Yoongi taps on his nose.

“I can smell it,” he states before Jimin can launch an inquiry. “Come on, let’s get you patched up.”

After the boy washes his hands, he follows Yoongi into the living room, taking a seat, studying his every movement. “I never even thanked you. I-I don’t even know your name.”

Yoongi opens the kit. There’s barely enough for one more use. What’s Jimin going to do the next time he gets hurt? The vampire pulls out the disinfectant, dousing a swab and pressing it gently to Jimin’s scratched-up palm.

Once it’s clean, he wraps it up in fresh gauze and linen. “You need to change this at some point, in two or three days, alright?”

Jimin tests the give on his hand. “Alright, Dr. Vampire. Should I just call you that?”

“It’s Min Yoongi, but you can call me hyung if you want.”

Jimin smiles at that. “Hyung, I like it. It suits you. I’m Jimin, if it matters.”

“If it matters?” Yoongi replies.

The boy flushes, gaze dropping to the floor. “If I see you again after this. If I’m allowed.”

Yoongi would really like to see Jimin after this, even though he knows he shouldn’t. Jimin needs to go back to his life, without the additional chaotic night element. Vampires are absolutely ruinous to mortals.

“There’s no rule against it,” Yoongi explains the best be can. Jimin unconsciously scoots forward, the scent of his blood fans out, making Yoongi thirst. “Vampires just prefer to keep to themselves, and humans haven’t gotten over the blood drinking thing yet.”

“I don’t mind the blood drinking,” Jimin offers. “Everyone’s gotta eat.”

“Aren’t you worried about your safety?” Yoongi asks.

“You literally just saved my life, hyung,” Jimin reminds him. “So, can I see you again? I really don’t want to go back to the bookstore every week, hoping to run into you.”

The vampire's hearts sputters, despite the fact that it doesn’t beat. They’ve been looking for one another, missing each other, but just barely.

“I don’t know what you mean?” Yoongi whispers, wishing he could breathe in some clean, Jimin-free air.

“Hyung, I’m asking you out,” Jimin says pointedly. “Would you like to go out on a date with me?”

Yoongi’s stunned into silence, mouth not cooperating with his brain.

Jimin’s smile falters for a second. “Please? At least let me take you out for coffee as a thank you, or whatever beverage you’d prefer— I don’t judge.”

He really, really should say no.

“I’d love to,” Yoongi answers.




The world of vampires isn’t quite as lonely and lowkey as Yoongi lives it. He knows the majority of his kind doesn’t share his simplistic lifestyle. The immortal live lavishly, decades of interests and investments compounded into opulence.

The gap between them and the humans sometimes seems as wide as an ocean, except when Yoongi’s looking at Jimin, then it only feels like the distance between them.

“Can you at least tell me where you’re going, if I can’t talk to him?” a voice stirs him out of his musings.

It’s his moody, protective older brother, Kim Seokjin. He’s currently horizontal on the couch, posed dramatically with an arm thrown over his troubled brow. He’s the epitome of vampire, luxurious living, and expensive tastes.

“It’s coffee,” Yoongi says. “That’s it. We’re having coffee. Stop making a big deal out of nothing.”

“This is your first date in two years,” Jin shoves back. “I have a right to be worried. You act like you’re invincible, but we both know you hurt easy.”

Yoongi sighs, he knows Jin means well but, “go home, hyung. I have everything under control.”

Jin doesn’t move one centimeter. “You’re ashamed of me. Just admit it.”

“No, I’m not—” The doorbell rings. “Gah, hyung, go hide. Jimin’s here.”

Jin never does anything Yoongi asks him. The taller man runs for the door, beating Yoongi to it. Damn the older’s longer legs. They fight for space but ultimately Jin opens the door, in a wide, sweeping gesture.

“Hello,” Jin hums. “Welcome.”

Jimin’s there, dressed up all soft in a red cardigan. He blinks in surprise. “Oh, I—”

He spots Yoongi behind him, absolutely mortified. “Ah, hi! I thought I had the wrong house for a minute.”

Yoongi shoves Jin away. “We should go. You didn’t need to pick me up here. Let’s meet at the venue next time—”

Jin’s twenty-six years older that Yoongi, and stronger, holding him back with two fingers, pinched on the back of his collar. “He came all this way to see where you live, at least give him a tour.”

“Jimin?” Yoongi calls on haplessly, hoping for some help.

The boy’s flushed, studying Jin with awe. And Yoongi remembers that most people who see Jin for the first time are like that. It reminds Yoongi of what he is, and what a traditional vampire should be.

His older brother is every bit the archetype: tall, wide shoulders, and drop-dead gorgeous.

“I kinda have to use the bathroom,” Jimin surrenders, giving Jin his much sought after victory.

“Please do come in. I’m Yoongi’s older brother, Kim Seokjin.” Jin hums, standing off to the side, shoving Yoongi out of the way so that he can’t act as a barrier.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jimin says, a full bow. “I’m Park Jimin. Please take care of me.”

The interior is simple and comfortable. It’s not the mansion that his brother, and every other vampire in existence, lives in. There’s a small tv, a coffee table with old magazines, and a cactus which Yoongi’s been nursing. It hasn’t been getting enough sunlight because Yoongi’s been trying to stay away from the window where it’s sitting.

“The bathroom is just through there,” Yoongi says, pointing past the archway. “The first door on the left.”

Jimin nods, shuffling over and disappearing around the corner. No sooner than he’s out of sight, probably still in hearing range, Jin says, “Well, he’s gorgeous.”

Yoongi’s impulse is to cover his brother’s mouth. “Say that louder, why don’t you?”

Jin laughs. “I mean like, he probably knows. He looks in the mirror every day.”

“I know he’s too pretty for me—” Yoongi begins.

“I didn’t say that,” Jin cuts him off. “God, don’t you look in the mirror every day, like—”

The toilet flushes and a moment later the water’s running.

“As you can see,” Yoongi cuts him off. “Everything’s under control. You can leave.”

Jin doesn’t move, passing the seconds by checking his fingernails. Jimin comes out a minute later, pausing in front of them. “All ready.”

Yoongi’s ready to bolt, eyeing the door.

“So, Jimin,” Jin cuts in. “Tell me a little about yourself.”

“Well I’m a student at SNU,” Jimin answers brightly. “I’m studying vocal music.”

Jin makes a noise of approval. “Yoongi loves music, I bet he has a few compositions lying around that you’d love.”

“Do you play?” Jimin asks, turning to Yoongi, interest swimming in his eyes.

“The piano,” Yoongi says after a few seconds. “It’s nothing much.”

Jimin laughs. “I would love to hear it sometime.”

Yoongi smiles back. “Sure. But, we really need to get going. I wanna make it back before sun up.”

To this Jimin’s laughter brightens, covering his mouth. “I make no such promises.”

And then he extends his fingers, reaching for Yoongi. It’s been so long since he’s had his hand held. The vampire reacts a little too enthusiastically, clasping on tight, a shy smile blooming on his face.

Jin opens his mouth to say something.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin says, turning on the charm to full, which dazzles the older. “I’ll take good care of him.”

Jin smiles, something akin to relief sparkling in his eyes. And for a moment, the two have an understanding that Yoongi’s not included in.

“Have fun, you two,” Jin says simply, ushering them out.

Jimin tugs his hand along, weaving his fingers through. Then the two adventurers set off in search of coffee.




Yoongi wears a smile on his face, tucked into his thick scarf, all warm and safe. Every few seconds his brain screams at him, ‘Ah, someone’s holding your hand!. Your hand is being held. This is not a drill!’

It’s nice, really nice.

“Yoongi?” Jimin hums. “What are you thinking about? You look like my mom’s cat when I give him a piece of tuna.”

Well, that’s really not all that off.

“It’s just nice out today,” Yoongi answers. “This is my first date in a while.”

Jimin clicks his teeth. “Really? You sure there aren’t guys lined up at your door, ready to take you out?”

“Nah,” Yoongi answers. “Jin-hyung’s there to kick them off my porch.”

Jimin giggles, something about his every moment is radiant. He leans in, resting his head on Yoongi’s shoulder. It makes it just a little harder to walk through the crowd, but Yoongi doesn’t mind at all.

“I like him,” Jimin says. “I have a little brother too. I’d do anything for him. I think that’s why we have an understanding.”

Ah, so Yoongi didn’t just imagine it.

“I think he likes you too,” Yoongi answers. “Which is good, you don’t want to get on his bad side.”

Jimin nuzzles against his neck. “You guys are cute.” the boy pauses in mid-step, letting Yoongi’s hand go. He jogs over to a window display, still festive after the new year, dressed in evergreen wreaths. Nestled in the straw at the bottom, are gorgeous jewelry pieces, including an obsidian bracelet that Yoongi’s very partial too.

“Let’s see what they have inside,” Jimin chirps.

Yoongi takes in the atmosphere of the shop. It’s very high end, in a style that his brother’s mate might like. Yoongi could see Taehyung buying out the store.

“Can I help you, sirs?” an attendant asks.

Jimin shakes his head. “We’re just looking. Thank you.”

Yoongi’s never been the type of person to go into a store just to look. And if a sales associate helps him, he’s compelled to buy something, just to be polite. This is why he has so many pairs of socks that he hasn’t even opened yet at home.

Jimin points to the same bracelet that’d caught Yoongi’s attention before. “That’d look so good on you.”

“It’s obsidian,” Yoongi says. “It has a very special meaning amongst vampires.”

Jimin tilts his head. “Really?”

“It’s something you’re supposed to give to your betrothed, like what humans do with engagement rings.”

“So like a fiance,” Jimin guesses

Not quite.

“A betrothal is more serious than a fiance,” Yoongi explains. “They’re considered married save for the consummation—” Yoongi has a very vivid image of Jimin on top of him, riding in the throws of passion. “-never mind,” he continues, voice cracking. “It’s boring.”

“Excuse me, sir,” the attendant calls their attention. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“What?” Jimin replies. “Are you closing already? It’s only nine.”

The man makes a face, eyeing Yoongi with disgust. “We don’t want any trouble. We have the right to refuse service to anyone.”

Yoongi goes momentarily deaf. Did he hear that right? Is this really happening in the modern day?

“We didn’t do anything,” Jimin replies. “We’re just looking.”

“Please leave or I’ll have to call security,” the man says sternly. “I don’t want your kind here.”

Yoongi wants to leave, shrink until he’s a few inches tall and crawl away to nurse his wounds. Jimin, on the other hand, brandishes a tiny fist. “Don’t you fucking talk to my boyfriend like that!”

Yoongi only hears the one word, ‘Boyfriend.’ He melts into the floor, his insides churning into pudding. Jimin just called him his boyfriend.

“Sir, calm down,” the salesman answers robotically. “I’m not going to ask you again. You need to leave.”

Yoongi pulls Jimin back before he can knock the man out. It’s like trying to hold onto a furious, slippery, kitten. “Jimin, let’s go. I don’t want to spend our first date in jail.”

Jimin goes slack, narrowing his eyes at the attendant, as Yoongi carries him out. “I’m watching you. I’m gonna tell all my friends not to shop here, you classist.”

Once they’re a block away, Yoongi puts Jimin down, hoping that the human doesn’t make a break for it. “Alright, that was eventful.”

Jimin frowns at him, tears flickering in his eyes. “What about you? Aren’t you angry at all? Come on, that was awful.”

Yoongi sighs. “I mean, yeah. I guess I would be if you didn’t just call me your boyfriend.”

Jimin’s anger fades to embarrassment. “WelI, I— I might have said something like that.”

Yoongi laughs, tugging on his scarf so that he can breathe properly, the glint of his teeth catching the street lights. Jimin stares at him in a way that makes him feel more beautiful than he’s ever felt.

“You hide behind that thing, you know?” Jimin whispers, and as he does so, he starts unwinding the scarf, bundling it in his arms, every layer leaving Yoongi more exposed. “I think it’s because you’re scared people will see your fangs.”

It’s not untrue.

“Humans are scared of us for a reason,” Yoongi reminds him. “Don’t forget that we drink blood, on top of a normal diet”

The cool night air fans over his skin. Yoongi can finally breathe, and at the same time, there’s no air at all. Jimin leaves him breathless.

“You wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Jimin says as if peaking into Yoongi’s soul. The boy reaches up, and cups Yoongi’s face, his thumb runs over Yoongi’s lips, settling on the jut of his fang. It’s so close, the slightest of pressure, and Yoongi would taste the blood on his tongue. But he doesn’t and Jimin seems to trust him to that extent.

The vampire knows if he drinks, he won’t stop, probably not until Jimin is his, mated to him. That’s not something he wants right now, or ever if it means keeping Jimin happy and safe.

Yoongi stumbles back. “Sorry.”

Jimin flushes, the tip of his nose turning blush orange. “It’s okay. Hey, it’s okay.” His touch is soft and reverent. “I like you as you are, hyung. And I’m sorry too. I should’ve asked first.”

“Asked first,” Yoongi repeats unsurely.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Jimin follows up.

Yoongi’s not sure exactly what he feels about this. The sensation is akin to flying through the air, touching the clouds, where the clouds are made of cotton candy.

“That much I very would,” Yoongi says, words jumbled up. “I mean, I would like that very much.”

Jimin giggles, eye sparkling as he looks at the other. He leans in, waiting for confirmation, and when he receives it, he presses his lips against the others. It’s warm and smooth, and sweet, and a million other sensations that Yoongi doesn’t have the verbal fortitude to describe. They slide against one another effortlessly.

It’s like sunshine.

It’s like sunshine after days and weeks of rain.

Jimin giggles again, pressing his forehead against Yoongi’s before sneaking another kiss.

“Come on, let’s go get that coffee, boyfriend.”

“Okay,” Yoongi replies, “boyfriend.”




There’s a little known fact about vampires. While most humans have come to learn about vampire eating habits, their serious sun allergies, and their love of literature, very few know that vampires really love celebrations, and thus any small reason to celebrate is treated with great enthusiasm.

So the first time that Jimin is to meet Yoongi’s friends and family properly isn’t treated with a small dinner in the house, a nice home cooked meal, topped with a few glasses of blood. That would’ve been nice.

No, his brother has to rent out an entire restaurant. That in itself is bad enough. Worst of all, there’s a banner over the main table that reads, ‘Congratulations On Getting A Boyfriend’.

“Take this down right now!” Yoongi shouts. “How—” he’s frustrated and in awe at the same time. How does one even— “Where did you even buy this?”

Jin’s arms are splayed out protectively, just in case Yoongi makes a break for it. “I had it custom made, and I’m not taking it down.”

Taehyung laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder. “We’ll just put it back up again. I printed a few extra just in case.”

“This is humiliating,” Yoongi sighs.

Hoseok, Yoongi’s roommate from his formative years, laughs into his fist, before combing his hand through his red locks. “You should see the cake they have for you then. It’s fucking timeless.”

Yoongi’s stomach fills with dread. He drains one of the toasting glasses to calm himself down. Hoseok circles around him, rubbing his shoulders. “We just want him to know how much we love you, and how much we welcome him. That’s not so bad is it?”

The man somehow makes everything seem okay.

“Alright, everyone, take your seats, our guest of honor should be arriving soon,” Jin says, clapping his hands together.

Yoongi sits down, staring at Jimin’s empty chair, growing more nervous by the second. Namjoon and Jungkook reign it in, taking their assigned seats, appraising the dinner and silverware. His brother enjoys casually flexing on people by having the staff use the most refined utensils, and if they don’t have it up to his standard, he’ll bring it from outside.

“I love these teacups,” Hoseok hums, picking one up and studying it.

Jin swells with pride and Taehyung smiles softly. “We had them shipped from England. They’re beautiful, and strong too.”

Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to the teacup in question. It’s delicately made, but deceptively so. It’s tempered, the design both strengthen it and concealing it. And the color, a soft pink like new bloomed cherry blossoms, it reminds him of Jimin.

As if thinking of the boy summons him, Jimin appears like a light at the window. He moves with determination, exhaling plumes of vapor into the chilly winter night. He pushes the door open and scans the room, eyes going wide.

The table is set, and six terrifying vampires sit at it. Yoongi can only imagine what Jimin’s thinking, probably expecting a noisy restaurant and thus a more private dinner. Instead, every waiter is there to serve them only.

Yoongi rushes to his side. “Let me get your coat, Jiminie.”

But there’s already a waiter there, taking his jacket, and slinging it over his arm.

“Thanks anyway,” Jimin coos, a slight nervous tremor in his voice. There’s a sheen of sweat over his skin, “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

Jin stands, sweeping Jimin to table with soothing words. “Nonsense, you’re the guest of honor. You can’t be late. We were all simply early. Why don’t you take a seat, and we’ll get you something nice to drink. What would you like?”

Yoongi sighs, following them close behind. He wants to be the one to comfort and take care of Jimin, but his brother’s always been a tempest in terms of force and persuasion. The elder vampire snaps his fingers and immediately two people, a man and a woman appear at his beck and call.

“What would you like to drink?” the woman asks.

Jimin’s a little flustered, a little overwhelmed. “Ah, what do you have?”

“Anything,” Jin says. “They will get you anything you want, Dom Perignon, imported coffees. I’ve spared no expense.”

“I’ll just have a pink lemonade. Extra ice, please” Jimin says.

Jin turns to the woman. “Fresh squeezed pink lemonade. Make me one too.”

The woman bows and heads back to the kitchen.

“So, did you have trouble finding the place,” Jin asks. “It’s nice, isn’t it? What do you think of the decorations?”

Jimin’s eyes are trained on the banner above them, with an amused but slightly uncomfortable expression.

Yoongi’s cuts in, “Will you let him breathe for a second, hyung?”

Jin blinks a few times, taken aback. Then he smiles. “Look at you, being all protective. It’s cute.”

Jimin flushes, sneaking a glance at Yoongi, who both wilts and preens. Under the table, he takes Jimin’s hands, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Jimin flashes an encouraging smile. “I think it’s very cute,” which elicits a round of ‘oohs’ from the table. The boy sneaks a chaste kiss to the vampire’s cheek. If Yoongi’s heart still beat, surely it would’ve knocked his lungs out of place.

“I’m so glad Yoongi-hyung found you,” Jungkook says. “Just in time too.”

Jimin laughs. “What do you mean?”

There’s a sudden shift in the atmosphere like the room’s dropped ten degrees. That’s right. Yoongi hasn’t told Jimin yet. He hadn’t planned to. He doesn’t want Jimin to feel sorry for him, and most importantly, he doesn’t want Jimin to feel obligated to save him.

Namjoon picks up on it the fastest, eyes wide. He loses all humor, eyes speaking whole paragraphs at Yoongi, the gist being, ‘You idiot, you didn’t tell him!’

Yoongi clears his throat loudly. “I’ve been single for a while. I think they were all tired of me moping around.”

Jimin laughs, brushing the hair from Yoongi’s eyes, his touch tender. “Were you all grumpy without me? Pretty kitty.”

Yoongi’s insides melt and he wants to scream, ‘Yes, I was.’ Instead he leans into Jimin’s touch, nodding ever so slightly.

Jungkook recovers the quickest. “Oh, he was terrible. We couldn’t get him to go on a date in forever.”

The waitress comes back with two lemonades, to cut the conversation. She takes everyone else’s drink orders with a smile. And by the time they’re in their second course, Yoongi realizes it’s actually going really well.

They’re having lamb with little grilled potatoes. It’s delicious.

“You know,” Jimin hums. “I used to think vampires just drank blood when I was a kid.”

Jin smiles. “We don’t need as much blood as those horror movies say. One unit a week is more than enough.”

“I’m curious,” Namjoon adds. “What else do you know about vampires?”

Jimin flushes. “Not all that much. But google helps. For instance, I learned the other day that vampires turn into stone if they can’t find a mate.”

Yoongi nearly spits out his drink.

“I still have thirty-seven years,” Hoseok chirps. “I’m not even that picky.”

“Is there a time limit?” Jimin asks, following the next logical point.

“A hundred years,” Namjoon explains. “In fact—”

“You know what, let’s not talk about such a depressing matter,” Jin suddenly says. “That’s no conversation for a dinner table.”

For once in his life, Yoongi’s glad for Jin’s intervention. Despite their constant friction, Jin understands Yoongi’s desires intimately. The older knows that Yoongi doesn’t want a relationship based on guilt.

Jin snaps his fingers a number of times. “Bring out my surprise.”

Yoongi’s stomach sinks, wondering what kind of diversion the man’s come up with. That’s when no less than six men and women roll out a baby grand out from the back, setting it on an elevated platform.

“Remember when you said you wanted to hear Yoongi play?” Jin says.

Jimin claps his hands together. “Oh my god, that’s amazing.”

And while Yoongi is mortified, the peels of laughed from Jimin’s lips make him a braver, bolder man. “What would you like to hear?”

Jimin moves from side to side excitedly. “Anything, just go up there and play for me!”

Yoongi skips up to the little stage, fingers buzzing over the keys. His heart swells in his chest, making him lighter than hair.

Something bright and cheerful sounds through the air, Chopin’s Minute Waltz. The notes are infinitely complex and yet the tone is simple, like bees buzzing through a field of daisies, each movement the product of a million years of evolution, but the whole picture so simple, both chaotic and perfectly in balance.

In the middle of the field, there’s a boy, bathed in sunshine. He turns and smiles at them.

Then the piece ends, greeted by cheering. Yoongi stands and bows, eyes drawn to Jimin. The boy’s crying and smiling, wiping at his tears. He laughs at himself, embarrassed for the wave of emotion running through him. When they lock eyes, Jimin jolts over, hugging him, kissing his cheek.

“That was beautiful,” Jimin whispers. “You were wonderful.”

Yoongi offers a word of thanks, sheepishly scratching the back of his head, and then—

And then it’s as if he’s never heard words before, or that none had ever mattered, had any meaning, Jimin presses his lips to the shell of the vampire’s ear and whispers.

So softly the words, “I love you, Min Yoongi.”

Just like that, the boy of eternal night, only knowing the lonely light of the moon, sees the sun for the first time.




The time passes by in a flurry of shared smiles and furtive glances. Before long, Yoongi finds himself celebrating their sixth month anniversary. Jimin spends more time at his house than at home, and Yoongi’s wondering if he should ask the big question.

Well, not the biggest question.

More like the secondary big question, of whether Jimin should move in with him, a nice place where the heating and cooling don’t just clock out on you, and there isn’t a mold issue. Only there’s a problem. Well, several problems.

Jimin hasn’t said those words since that one time, and perhaps the boy is regretting it now. And Yoongi, in his oafishness, has failed to say it back, even though he feels it in his very soul. But it’s too late; it’s been too long. How can he bring it up again?

‘Hey, do you still love me, cause I love you, like with the burning passion of a thousand suns. Also, hey, do you want to move in with me? I only have a few months left to live, but like, you know, you can have all my stuff when I’m gone.’

Yoongi shudders to himself, cringing at the internal practiced dialogue. How can he be this bad with words?

There’s a knock at the door, and the vampire shuffles over, mug in hand, and a pout on his face. Jimin’s there, tapping the excess moisture from an umbrella. His hair clings to his forehead, the rain mingling with his natural scent makes Yoongi absolutely ravenous.

The vampire flinches back, turning his head and inhaling a lungful of clean air.

“It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” Jimin sighs. “I almost got lost on the way here. I couldn’t see.”

Yoongi pulls a clean towel from the rack and starts blotting the boy’s forehead. “I should’ve picked you up.”

Jimin shakes his head. “No, I told you not to. I don’t want you getting caught in the rain. Besides, I like talking to the guy that drives the bus. He’s funny.”

“Let’s get you out of those clothes,” Yoongi says, not meaning to be suggestive at all.

Jimin laughs, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Yoongi’s admittedly flustered, stumbling back and nearly crashing into the sink. “I-I- you can borrow some of my clothes if you want.”

“I was only teasing, baby,” Jimin sighs, pecking the tip of Yoongi’s nose, before moving through the kitchen area and into the bedroom.

Yoongi settles on the couch, hugging his mug until his breathing levels out. There’s an elephant in the room, at least, Yoongi feels there is. They haven’t had sex yet, and even in slow relationships, this is a bit long.

Or is it?

He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s afraid of hurting Jimin, that his survival instincts will take over, that he’ll end up biting the boy and mating him. He doesn’t want to do that to Jimin, the kid’s just trying to get his bachelor’s degree and live his life. What would it be like to be tethered to a vampire way past your natural life span?

It’s not fair.

“Baby?” Jimin’s standing in front of him, dressed dangerously light. He’s wearing one of Yoongi’s dress shirts.

And that’s it.

“Couldn’t find any pants?” Yoongi sputters, adrenaline running through his veins, pupils dilating.

Jimin shrugs, a smile on his face. The boy knows exactly what he’s doing, the curve of his ass jutting out, barely covered. He sits, leaning hard into Yoongi’s side, cuddling his arm. “I’m more comfortable like this.”

The human moves in, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek, but when he goes for the mouth, Yoongi flinches away hard. He doesn’t mean to but he nearly falls off the couch. Jimin’s stunned, blinking a few times before sighing. “Sorry, I-I’ll go put on some pants.”

Jimin runs off without another word, and Yoongi feels so bad, he’s all twisted up in his emotions. He knows Jimin deserves more, the truth, or at least an explaination. But if he knows, then it’ll all be over. Jimin will head for the hills and Yoongi will lose what little light he has left in his life.

When the human returns, he’s dressed much more conservatively. “So what do you want to watch tonight?”

Yoongi doesn’t know. “Whatever you want.”

Jimin pretends everything is fine, sitting a little bit away from the other as he clicks on the t.v. They watch in silence for thirty seconds before emotions break through, and Jimin turns the screen off.

“I’m sorry,” the human gushes. “I don’t want to push you into anything. It’s just, I don’t even know— I told you I loved you and I thought— If you don’t feel the same way, I need to know now. I can’t fall any harder, hyung.”

“I—” Yoongi’s running on fumes. He’s so desperate and hungry and terrified. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Thick tears roll down Jimin’s face. “Talk to me. Tell me what I’m doing wrong. I can’t do this anymore. I know you’re hiding something from me.”

Yoongi recoils, pressing a hand to his face. He simply can’t do it.  He doesn’t want Jimin to know and yet the boy deserves it at the very least. It’d ruin everything, wouldn’t it?

Jimin stands, body vibrating, hands shaking. He grabs his umbrella and coat from the entrance.

“Where are you going?” Yoongi calls. “Please, don’t—”

“I can’t be here right now,” Jimin cries, and with that, the door slams.

Yoongi’s heart shatters, his chest tight. Something’s wrong, he knows right away. He feels too cold, too numb. It’s as if there’s a thin veil of plastic over his skin, unseeable to the eye.

The vampire stumbles about, legs weak and rubbery. Yoongi braces himself against the small, standing piano by the window. He knows and he doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to know.

But as soon as he takes a seat and plays, Moonlight Sonata, the first movement, he misses and hits the wrong note. The discordant noise echoes through the empty living room.

Yoongi examines his fingers. On the surface, nothing looks different, but on the inside, it’s like ice. The vampire can’t stop shaking. It’s starting, they’re beginning to petrify.

Yoongi’s turning into stone.




The truth is, Yoongi always knew there was no hope. The last year, he’s been fooling himself. Still, he wishes he could see Jimin one more time, offer him a real explaination about why he’d been such a damned fool, not the hero by far, and certainly not worthy to be Jimin’s romantic interest.

They haven’t talked for a few days, which feels like decades to Yoongi. The vampire sighs, shuffling out of his car with a bouquet of white roses. He finds Jimin’s apartment with little trouble, looking for a rusty gate with bright orange graffiti on it.

The elevator’s still broken and the floors are in desperate need of repair. The vampire trucks it up sixteen floors, winded by the end of it. He lays the flowers by the door and presses his forehead to the panel.

“Goodbye,” he whispers, before turning and leaving.

But no sooner than he reaches the first step does the door wretch open with a loud screech.

“So you were really just gonna go without even talking to me first?” Jimin shouts at him, pointing a wooden spoon at his direction. “You’re a coward, Min Yoongi! A coward!”

Yoongi doesn’t have any chance to defend himself, before Jimin’s pulling him into the space by the collar, roughly depositing him on the sofa.

“You’re not leaving until you talk to me,” Jimin says shrilly, tossing the roses back at him. “I don’t want flowers. I want an explaination. And I’m fucking furious because even—” Jimin chokes up, fat tears streaking down his cheeks. “— even though you’re being an idiot, I still love you. I still fucking love you so much, it hurts.”

“I love you too,” Yoongi says back. “I do.”

“Don’t say it because you’re angry,” Jimin retorts. “It doesn’t mean anything if—”

Yoongi shakes his head, so frustrated with himself. “I love you. I’ve loved you since I first saw you. You were reading, in your own fucking bubble, and I knew I was supposed to protect you. I love everything about you, how strong you are, and beautiful, and kind. I—”

Jimin rushes towards him, pressing his mouth on Yoongi’s, hands running through his hair. Yoongi pushes him back on instinct, stepping away.

“Then why can’t I touch you?” Jimin cries. “What’s wrong? I just want to be with you—”

Yoongi’s so angry with himself, so angry with everything. “Because I’m dying.”

And there it is. The truth.

It’s the first time he’s said it aloud.

“What?” Jimin sputters, face twisted up in confusion. Clearly, that isn’t what he was expecting.

“I’m dying,” Yoongi repeats, this time softer, as if he’s giving up. “You know that vampires turn to stone when they can’t find a mate.”

The cogs turn in Jimin’s mind, reeling backward. “Yes.”

“There’s a time limit, a hundred years exactly,” Yoongi explains. “I’m ninety-nine. I only have a few months left.”

Jimin drops his spoon, taking a seat on the couch next to Yoongi. “Keep going.”

Yoongi chews on his bottom lip, his fangs threatening to break skin. “I should’ve told you on day one, so you knew what you were getting into. I just— I didn’t want to scare you away, and I didn’t want you to be with me out of guilt. I had a limited amount of time and I just wanted to spend my last days with you.”

The vampire dares a glance in Jimin’s direction. The human looks at him helplessly. “I love you for you, not because I have to, but because you’re you.”

Yoongi doesn’t know how to answer that, though he feels precisely the same about Jimin. “I love you for you too. But this is different, there’s no turning back.”

Is this the part where Jimin runs? Where he kicks Yoongi out of his apartment and tells him to never come back?

“Does this mean I’ll become a vampire?” Jimin asks.

That isn’t what Yoongi expected. “No, but— it’s on the table. You’ll live much longer than a normal human with the bite, but you won’t turn unless you die.”

Jimin nods. “Okay, I’ll do it.”


But this is precisely what Yoongi doesn’t want. “I don’t want you to do it out of obligation. It’s wrong of me to even ask, that’s why I—”

“I’m not doing it because I’m obligated,” Jimin corrects, crawling over to him until he’s sitting on the man’s lap. “I want to be with you. I love you, Yoongi. I’ve— I’ve been— I’ve been building the courage to ask you and—”

Jimin hops off the couch and disappears into his room. He comes back out with a blue velvet box. He opens it, and there’s an obsidian bracelet burrowed in the center. It’s a betrothal bracelet.

“Oh,” Yoongi whispers.

“Hyung, I’ve had this for months,” Jimin says. “I want you. I want to be with you. I want to marry—”

Yoongi cups Jimin’s face and kisses him passionately, all stored up for the last half year. Jimin returns eagerly, wriggling forward into his space, pulling at his clothes.

“I knew it was you,” Yoongi gushes. “When I first saw you, I knew it was you. I didn’t say it, but I- you know?”

“I know,” Jimin replies. “I felt it the first time too. That’s why I kept going back to look for you.”

“Me too,” Yoongi cries, feeling stupid and happy, and ridiculous.

Jimin moans into his mouth, high and needy, cheeks flushed. “How does this work? What do we do?”

Here? Now? Yoongi’s brain momentarily short circuits. This is hardly the place to mate someone, no roses. Well, there are roses, unceremoniously flung on the floor. But there’s no ambiance, well there is Jimin, and he’s tearing at his clothes, delicious skin peeking from behind the fabric.

“I-I bite you,” Yoongi says, “T-Then you bite me. That’s it.”

“Like this?” Jimin asks, his teeth grazing along the skin of Yoongi’s neck, making his toes curl.

“Ah, fuck,” Yoongi sighs, seeing white for a moment. “No, I-I have to go first.”

Jimin bites him again, harder this time, the sensation driving the vampire mad. “Then do it.”

They make their way clumsily to the bedroom, discarding their clothes as they go. It’s messy and wild. Yoongi loves it, craves it, the heat in his belly boiling over, the way Jimin’s fingertips make his skin prickle.

In one easy motion, Jimin pushes Yoongi on to the twin mattress, a creaky old thing with six pillows atop it. The human’s relentless with his mouth, leaving a burning trail off kisses down Yoongi’s chest and stomach.

“Ah, fuck,” Yoongi whines, high and needy, a tone he didn’t think he was capable of.

Jimin straddles him, moving his hips in slow, torturous circles, grinding against him. The boy leans forward, kissing along his jawline, nipping his earlobe. And Yoongi’s a complete mess, lost in the tidal wave of sensations.

The boy loops his fingers under Yoongi’s waistband, “Can I?” he asks. His eyes are dark, pupils wide making his soft brown eyes appear pitch black. His breathing is ragged, as he watches Yoongi.

The vampire gasps as the cool air hits his bottom half, and Jimin takes him into his hands, giving him a languid stroke.

“Pretty,” Jimin notes, to the chagrin of the other.

Yoongi’s brain is all muddy. He’s not sure what to say except. “Please.”

The human’s quick on the take, producing a bottle of lube from his side drawer. He drizzles some of the liquid onto his palms, spreading it over Yoongi’s cock. It’s cool but it makes him burn.

It’s a feast for the eyes, watching Jimin do the work, sitting back and opening himself in perfect view of the other. Yoongi wants to do something, to touch, to experience. He reaches forward, tumbling onto his knees, a hand running over the soft of Jimin’s inner thigh.

The human raises an eyebrow at him, both in question and in open challenge. Yoongi’s skin tingles, muscles tight with anticipation. Jimin gives him a nod, to go forth with whatever he’s doing. In truth, Yoongi’s not sure. He’s never been with a human before, even when he was human himself. So what this will be like, it’s a mystery.

“It’s okay,” Jimin coos. “Just touch me.”

Yoongi runs his hands long Jimin’s thighs, his stomach, his chest, the beautiful jutt of his collarbone. The human falls back, a soft exhale, as his eyes crinkle up in delight. Yoongi grabs the lube, just enough to coat his fingers. He reaches down and circles Jimin’s rim, causing the younger to cry out. “Yes.”

He’s warm, and tight, and slick. “You’re so beautiful, Jiminie,” Yoongi says, voice raw. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Jimin giggles. “You really know how to feed a guy’s—” Yoongi slips a finger in, “ah- ah— fuck, a guy’s praise kink.”

Yoongi’s smoothly dips his finger in and out. Jimin’s hot, and the way he clenches tightly, the vampire’s about to lose it.

“Want you,” Jimin pleads. “Now.”

And who is Yoongi to deny the other? He pulls his finger out, lines himself up, and pushes in, slowly bottoming out. Jimin’s spine arches and he groans softly, jaw slack.

Yoongi steadies himself on his hands before he mounts a slow rhythm. Jimin whines underneath him, wrapping his legs around the vampire’s torso. “Y-Yes.”

There’s a fire in Yoongi’s gut, building, and building. The room is perfumed in the sweet scent of Jimin’s blood, just below the surface of his skin. And Yoongi’s jaw aches, his vampire begging him to bite, and to mate.

Jimin reaches up for him, hands sliding reverently over his chest, making his entire body feel like one sensitive nerve ending.

“F-Faster,” Jimin begs, hands on the globes of Yoongi’s ass, bracing himself. The vampire quickens the pace, watching the younger writhe in pleasure. “Y-Yes.”

All the fear, all the trepidation drains out of Yoongi. He realizes, he could never hurt Jimin, never in a million years. There was never anything to be afraid of. Jimin is his mate, his soulmate, the person he’s supposed to be with forever. He knows that, and the vampire in him knows it too.

The boy clenches hard around him, spine arching again. “I-I’m close.”

Yoongi meets Jimin with every thrust, faster and faster, and then comes a moment which seems to last an eternity. But it tips over, waves of pleasure washing the both of them. Jimin cries out, pulling Yoongi towards him so that they’re flush against one another.

“D-Do it,” Jimin whispers.

Yoongi turns his head, and gently bites Jimin’s neck, softly, carefully, just enough to break skin. The taste of blood coats his tongue, sweet as honey. Jimin’s hands tighten around him, and then it’s over, the magic passing through him and into the boy, binding them together.

“Now you,” Yoongi manages, mind fuzzy.

Jimin’s stronger now, magic seeping into his bones. He turns his head and bites Yoongi on the shoulder, leaving a set of marks on his pale skin. The feeling is instantaneous, euphoric, the ice in his blood, in his fingertips, melts.

Yoongi quickly pulls out and lops over to the side, chest heaving. He’s lighter than before, his body singing, expelling whatever’s left of his curse, the curse of loneliness befallen to his kind. His fingers feel normal again, his whole body, sensitive and alive.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asks, a smile on his lips. He lays beside the other so that they’re face to face, studying each other closely, timidly and with fresh eyes.

Jimin’s never looked so beautiful, covered in a soft sheen of perspiration, cheeks a beautiful pink.

“I’m wonderful,” Yoongi laughs, little drops of sunshine in every chuckle. He covers his mouth in embarrassment, before whispering. “Are you alright, baby?”

Jimin nods, a finger running along his mating mark. It’s already healed over, a soft white scar over the punctures wounds. “That’s new.”

Yoongi smiles. “You won’t have to buy First Aid Kits anymore.”

Jimin laughs, “I guess not.” The boy leans in, pressing another quick kiss to Yoongi’s lips.

They should get up and start cleaning off, but Yoongi wants to stay like this for a moment longer, Jimin draped around him, watching him with those perfect eyes.

“I love you, Yoongi,” Jimin whispers, pressing their foreheads together.

“I love you too, Jimin.” Yoongi answers. “Always and forever.”




It’s Yoongi’s birthday today. He’s officially one-hundred years old, and several minutes. Jin and Taehyung are asleep on his couch, blow out whistles still hanging from their mouths. The two had treated it like a new year’s celebration, planning to wait up until 6:21 am for Yoongi to officially turn. But the late hour got to them, and they fell asleep with the sunrise.

Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok are all laying on the ground, makeshift hoodie pillows under their heads. They’re right in the line of the dawning light. Yoongi quickly draws the blinds so that no one gets sunburn, before throwing a blanket over the three of them. Unfortunately, that’s not enough for everyone.

Jimin’s asleep too, curled up with a pillow, a pleasant smile on his face. Yoongi doesn’t have the heart to wake him up, instead, carrying him to bed. Jimin giggles in his sleep, still a little drunk, head pressed into Yoongi’s chest.

The vampire carefully places Jimin into the bed, then he pulls the comforter over him, tucking him nice and snug and tight. Yoongi’s about to close the door so that Jimin can sleep in peace, when the human calls out to him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Yoongi pauses in mid-movement. “You’re awake?”

Jimin peeks one eye at him, a wicked smile on his face. “Yup.”

“Well, then why didn’t you say so?” Yoongi asks, coming back into the room, closing the door behind him.

Jimin’s smile widens. “Because then you wouldn’t have carried me and tucked me into bed.”

Yoongi sputters at how brazen the boy is. “You brat.”

Jimin laughs in his face, throwing the comforter open. “Get in here, silly.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice, shuffling over with a pout and curling up into Jimin’s arms. “Only because I wanted to anyway.”

Jimin covers them both up, nice and warm, pressing a kiss to the nape of Yoongi’s neck. “Happy birthday, love.”

Yoongi makes a contented noise, not unlike a kitten purr. “Thank you, baby. It has been.”

This is the happiest birthday of his life, and more importantly, there are many happy birthdays to come. The future's so bright and full of hope and light. It’s all thanks to the boy who brought it into his life.

His sunshine.

His Jimin.