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fountain of blood and tears

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It wasn’t even 10:30 PM. At 10:27 on a Saturday night, Jisung stood, bewildered, a few steps past the doorway of the nightclub, watching the strobe lights reflect off the emptiest dance floor he’d ever seen. Not that he had much experience with them, but he was pretty sure that clubs were supposed to have more than 15 people. It could’ve been the name, though; in his opinion, naming a club ‘Stray Kids’ wasn’t exactly the best marketing decision. Again, not that he had much experience with either clubs or marketing, but still. He cautiously walked forward, past the lone couple making out against the wall, and once he spotted it, headed towards the sparsely populated bar. Once he got there, the aspiring music producer plopped himself down (on what had to be the comfiest barstool ever made, somehow) with a relieved sigh, glad to see that there was at least a bartender. He felt his phone buzz in his hand and looked down. A little notification popped up, a text from Woojin asking if he planned on coming back that night. Jisung rolled his eyes, amused, and replied, ‘i’m only coming back if i don’t get laid so i think we both know the answer to that lol’ , before hitting send. Although, frowning, he realized that it didn’t look like there were too many options.


“First time here?” Startled, Jisung snapped his head up a little too fast, and consequently cracked his neck. His hand only managed to get partway through its short journey to console the ache when it stopped abruptly as his eyes started to register just how gorgeous the man standing in front of him was. Bleached hair, puffy pink lips, tiny dimples, collarbones that should literally be illegal, an adorable nose, a brown-eyed gaze that could cut him in half if it chose (Jisung really wanted it to), and an intricate tattoo of a dragon crawling around a cracked compass on the smooth skin of his neck. It was official. He was no longer Han Jisung. He would forever be known as Han Jisung, the Most Panicked Gay Ever. 


“I-Is it that obvious?” The newly crowned MPGE was extremely proud of himself for being able to create coherent sound because he wasn’t sure he had a brain anymore, much less the ability to use his tongue for more than sucking this guy’s dick. Which was all his brain, which was currently in Extremely Horny Caveman Mode, could focus on. 


“I mean, kinda. You look like you don’t really know what you’re doing here.” The bartender leaned forward, onto the counter, and looked into his eyes. Which was really. Not necessary. At all.


“Here for dick.” It took him a few seconds to realize that those words had actually left his mouth, and he felt blood rush to his cheeks as the world’s hottest bartender let out a hearty chuckle and grinned.


“It really depends on what you like, little human, but I’d say you came to the right place.” Jisung’s immediate reaction, predictably, was to look down there . He caught himself, though, not letting his eyes go below the other’s chest. Unfortunately, that was dangerous too, because chest level meant staring straight into the bartender’s ridiculously defined pecs. So, for his own sanity, he forced himself to look at the conveniently placed nametag. Bang Chan. Huh. I wouldn’t mind doing that.


When he looked up again, Jisung realized that the bartender—Chan—was gesturing towards a group of men on the far side of the room, and that one of them was staring directly at him. He couldn’t see any of their faces well, but he felt immediately compelled to walk over and join them. He looked back to Chan, who shrugged, as if to say that it wasn’t his decision to make. So, of course, Jisung got up and made his way towards the table. After all, bartenders tend to have wonderful recommendations. He hoped.

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Jisung was nervous. Of course he was, why wouldn’t he be? There was no way not to be nervous, not when he was sitting in front of literally the most gorgeous people ever created, in silence. Silence that felt like he was getting rained on. By rocks. Rocks covered in ice. A cold, stony silence. He couldn’t focus on the three men in front of him, but at the same time, they were all he could focus on. He shouldn’t be here, a week shy of 20, four weeks shy of freshman orientation, but sometimes life does what you were supposed to be doing and suddenly takes a hard left before you know what’s happening. 


Jisung knew that they knew he was nervous. Honestly, they would have to have the observation skills of literal brick walls to let it go unnoticed. Knees weak, palms sweaty, mom’s spaghetti—whatever the lyrics were from that one rap song he heard his roommate, Changbin listening to that one time—he felt it all. It didn’t help that the one straight across from his spot at the table, the one who’d been staring before, hadn’t really stopped. Jisung wasn’t even sure the black-haired man had blinked. The one to his left had purple hair that most of the population only wished they could pull off, and the one to his right had brown hair with light pink streaks that were almost invisible. Still, he wasn’t sure what it was about the one across from him that made him find the long-lost ability to actually keep eye contact with someone for more than two seconds, and he wasn’t sure what it was about him that made the extremely-hot-but-also-extremely-intimidating guy across from him maintain the eye contact as well. While his brain was whirring around, Purple Hair seemed to have gotten fed up with the tension knotting the air, and sighed in frustration.


“How long is it going to take you to say something, coward? I have to feed my cats. If we’re not home in 45 minutes I’m going to let Doongie loose in your shit again, and it’s a 30 minute drive so I suggest you hurry up.” 


Jisung blinked, surprised. Black Hair finalized the ending of their unofficial staring contest (which Jisung lost probably about 8 times, because blinking is supposed to be a normal thing, goddamnit!) to glare at Purple Hair, and opened his mouth to say something. 


Before he could, though, he was interrupted by Brown Hair, who gently asked, “What brought you here, hmm? Hyunjin’s quite interested in how a tiny human like you was able to enter so easily.”


“I-” The soon-to-be college student barely had time to get a sound out before he was cut off by a loud cough.


“That one… that’s on me, actually… Jinyoung had to go rescue Bam and Yug from some legal issues involving a python temple in Ouida, and Jaebum has pneumonia—” and then Purple Hair’s half-hearted explanation was cut off by Black Hair (like, really? Again? Jisung had never heard this many interruptions in such a short period of time), and his face, at that point, was one of resignation with a dash of impatience.


“So, of course, you had to call Taeyong, our only regular bouncer, to catsit , because he’s the only other person you trust with your babies .” 


This was the first time that the man with inky black hair had spoken, and Jisung could not breathe. He couldn’t breathe , oxygen refused to fill his lungs, he had never in his life heard a voice like that. A voice that sounded like slithering vines and sunrises on snow-covered mountaintops and ink spilling onto paper and the falling of a star. A voice so paradisical he could almost feel it.


It felt like a soft, pillowy supernova, and his vision melted into smears of honey as he laid his head back and slowly closed his eyes in what could only be described as complete and total euphoria . They kept arguing, the others, but Jisung was far away, floating through the fluffy clouds in his head created by the melody of someone else’s words. 


“I love… your voice…” he murmured, soft and sweet, slurring his words as if he was drunk (he might as well have been). It wasn’t love, though. That wasn’t the right word. Love wasn’t even in the same dimension, nowhere near close to the seemingly extraterrestrial feeling.


Guys , shut up for two seconds . Hwang Hyunjin, I don’t know what you did to the mortal, but he looks like he just got high on every drug in existence.” 


He dimly registered that Brown Hair was speaking, and that he mentioned a name— but who did it belong to?


You shut up, Seungmin. You couldn’t name 6 different drugs if you tried.” It’s him. Hyunjin , the one with a voice like honey-filled tears. That’s his name.


“I could if I tried, but that’s not the point , idiot.” That’s Seungmin, then.


“Oh right, the human.” 


For some reason, that word broke through the glass of Jisung’s daydreams, as he realized something rather odd. He lifted his head, sitting up in the chair. “Listen, I’ve been called human or mortal or little or whatever like five times already, what the fuck is that about?” 


All he got, at first, was three wide-eyed stares of shock, which would’ve been reminiscent of the classic ‘deer-caught-in-headlights’ look, if it didn’t look more like the faces of the people in the car after they realize they ran over a deer.


Seungmin said quietly, “You don’t know?”


“No? Is there something I should ? Are you guys, like, vampires or, or, werewolves or something? Are you just, like, really hot zombies?” Incredulous and a little annoyed, Jisung crossed his arms and glared at them, waiting for an answer.


The one with purple hair snorted, and replied, “Zombies don’t exist, and if they did, I don’t think they’d be attractive in the slightest. Also, werewolves are disgusting. No thanks.”




“He should know, Seungmin, especially if he’s here for the reason we think.” Purple Hair--wait, Minho , turned and looked Jisung directly in the eyes. “Why are you here, little one? What possible reason could you have to wander into a blood bar on the night of the full moon?”


He didn’t deny the part about being vampires. “You didn’t deny the part about being vampires.” 




“I didn’t realize there was a full moon tonight, but that has to do with werewolves, doesn’t it?” he asked pensively. Must be why it’s empty. Huh. “A blood bar, that must be for vampires.” Jisung grinned, amused. “You guys must have Bloody Maries, right? Blood orange margaritas?” The sheer absurdity of the situation was messing with him, he felt a bit giddy. He started giggling. “So you’re telling me that I, Han Jisung , accidentally walked into what’s normally a vampire hotspot on the one night it’s empty this month so I could get some good dick, the three hottest guys I’ve ever met are vampires, but even though zombies aren’t real, werewolves are, and we’re not even in the same month as Halloween? That’s so ridiculous I almost believed it.” Jisung was full-on laughing at this point, but he stopped to cough when Minho spoke.






“The four hottest guys you’ve ever seen. Unless you don’t think Chan’s hot? You were practically drooling earlier.” 


Jisung thought about it for a second before laughing again. “Right, right, I should’ve known, of course he’s a vampire.” The blue-haired boy stood up, shaking his head, still chuckling. “So, if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.” As he turned towards the door, he heard it again, and he had to put up a huge fight to avoid melting at that voice, that beautiful voice overflowing with the promise of spring intertwined with the shackles of a hidden plea. Still, he couldn’t fight the compulsion to look back at the owner of that voice any more than we can fight the moon. It just wasn’t the slightest bit close to being in the realm of possibility.


Hyunjin, smirking, with demons and stars in his eyes, with addictively poisonous words on his honeyed tongue, reminded him thoughtfully, almost as if it had come to him in passing.


“I thought you wanted dick?”

Chapter Text

“I thought you wanted dick?” 


Shit. Jisung didn’t even realize his body had stopped moving until he felt Hyunjin directly behind him and felt soft, smooth lips on his ear. He didn’t know it was possible to be this intensely aware of everything—although, Hyunjin was everything to him at the moment. One hundred percent of his focus was sucked into the feeling of the man pressed up against him, the expensive suit jacket brushing against his favorite t-shirt, large hands resting on his hips, and—


Oh. Oh fuck. The not necessarily unwelcome, but relatively unfamiliar feeling of something pressed up against his asscheeks, with only two pairs of tight jeans in between. He… he’s not wrong. A tiny shred of his concentration detached itself just long enough to catch Minho muttering something about getting the car, and dragging Seungmin away with him. 


With the other two gone, Hyunjin lowered his voice to a whisper and continued. “Was that not the reason you came in the first place, little one?” Yes. “And I don’t think you’ve quite changed your mind, have you?” ...No. Fuck. “No, you haven’t. Or you’d be running. You would’ve left a long time ago, Han Jisung.” 


Jisung sucked in a breath at the sound of his name. What was it about him that could make even names, just mundane combinations of letters and syllables, sound literally orgasmic? What kind of power did he hold in his tongue? In some ways, he didn’t actually want to know, but in others—


He was very interested.


“Jinnie, we kinda need the keys.” 


At the sound of Seungmin’s voice, Hyunjin sighed, and stepped away (Jisung had suddenly never hated the air more, there was too much of it between the two of them), looking irritated. He dug the keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Minho, who grinned as he caught them. Jisung blinked, sensing something, then looked up, meeting black eyes framed by black hair that seemed to be asking a silent question. (He didn’t know what the question was, but he was still pretty sure what the answer would be.)


“Do you want to come with me?” Hyunjin asked, although it didn’t sound like a query so much as a confirmation of something he already knew. He leaned in, quieting his voice. “I wouldn’t want to leave your goal unreached, after all.” 


The blue-haired boy shivered at the implication. He’d been right. The only correct answer was, unsurprisingly—




He received a brilliantly adorable eye smile, and couldn’t help but grin softly in return. Then, waving to Chan over his shoulder, who winked back, Jisung followed the three beautiful definitely-not-vampires through the door and out into the night.


Once in the car (‘Angler’, Minho called her, after an anglerfish, because it made total sense to name your beautiful, probably brand new, silver BMW after a fish that lives at the bottom of the sea and has teeth that look like a previously gumless version tried to bite the back of a porcupine and all of the quills got stuck in its mouth), he found himself on Hyunjin’s lap, curled into his chest. All the excitement was starting to get to him, so he let his eyelids droop closed. Focusing on the gradually blurring sound of Minho and Seungmin bickering in the front, the rapper didn’t even notice the absence of the rhythmic thrumming usually present in someone’s chest, one that signified the presence of life.




Jisung watched the car driving away from the statuesquely luxurious apartment building, now wide awake and wondering where Minho was taking Seungmin, since they apparently lived here too—while also still trying to keep up the facade that he wasn’t nervous. He turned back to Hyunjin, who was waiting for him, holding the door open. Ah, so chivalry isn’t dead, after all. After walking through the modestly adorned lobby (the older grabbed a peppermint out of a glass bowl on the way), the pair stepped into the elevator. Strangely, instead of pressing one of the couple dozen buttons, Hyunjin put a silver ring with an emblem on it, that the younger hadn’t noticed he was wearing, up to a scanner. As soon as the elevator started moving, he found himself staring shamelessly at a certain pair of puffy pink lips sucking on a mint, and after less than ten seconds, he couldn’t stop himself from blurting something out.


“...What else that mouth do?” 


Hyunjin chuckled, shifting the mint around in his mouth before biting it in half with a loud crunch. The mood changed immediately, going from a soft amicable glow to a practically tangible voltage looping through the air. He looked down, making eye contact, and licked a small piece of crushed mint off of his bottom lip with his tongue. “Anything you want… baby boy.” 


Jisung was pretty sure his entire body shut down, because he slumped into the taller’s chest, an unrestrained whimper escaping his throat. The only thing still working was his cock, which he felt twitch and grow a little in his already too-tight black jeans. 


By the time his senses were resurrected from their early grave, he heard the elevator doors open. He was silently picked up bridal style and carried into what he assumed was the penthouse, due to how long they were in the elevator. He blinked, surprised, as two doors came up in front of them. Hyunjin pushed open the left door (which had a metal plaque with an engraved ‘ Hwang’ on it), explaining that the right side was for Minho and Seungmin (it, in turn, had a plaque with 2 M’ ). 


The smaller boy looked up, confused. “Why are they in the same room and you’re by yourself?” he asked.


“They’re dating. Well, it’s more like fuckbuddies refusing to admit their feelings and act on it, but still.” 


“So, like, they suck dick, but with feelings?”


“If you want to put it that way. Now, speaking of sucking dick, as you put it, I was planning on possibly having dinner, but I think I speak for the both of us when I say I would rather skip,”--they had reached the living room; Jisung was put down, and Hyunjin was currently towering over him--“right to dessert.


Hyunjin opened his mouth, and Jisung almost screamed as he saw the older’s canines elongate into fangs. As scared as he was, he could feel his dick harden even more. Apparently, fear was something he was into. Although, the more he thought about it, the less he minded that he was gonna get ripped open (a statement that was hopefully not completely literal) by a supernatural creature, or at least this supernatural creature. He numbed himself to the idea, didn’t let himself be scared. He could be scared tomorrow. After all, it’s not like they’d see each other after tonight, right?


“No, I wasn’t lying, baby boy. Now, are you full yet, or do you want to eat some more?”


Jisung knelt down to untie his favorite black combat boots, and kicked them off towards the door. He looked up, straight into the pitch-black eyes of the vampire, and felt a rush of (completely fabricated) confidence. “I’m not full of you yet, and I’d very much like to be.”


 Hearing this, the older smiled wickedly, his fangs on full display. “Not here, you devilish little minx. As much as I’d love to make you scream yourself hoarse right now, I would love to keep my couch clean.”


“Speaking of clean…” 


Hyunjin looked at him dryly, amused. “I’m a vampire. Even if I’d had one, which I didn’t, any diseases die with our humanity.” The self-proclaimed vampire stepped closer, leaned down to kiss his neck softly, and walked toward where Jisung assumed the bedroom was, pausing in the doorway to look back. “Coming?”


Jisung nodded, and followed him. Chivalry ain’t dead, and it sure ain’t alive either.