Archive of Our Own

Hongjoong grows up learning two things: 

1) if it smells bad, it probably tastes worse

2) when you can’t fight, run  

The ground is slippery with mud, rainwater and sewage, but it’s of little concern to him - he runs because his life depends on it, skipping over trash and boulders as he continues further into the underground tunnel. He can hear the men chasing after him, yelling that he should stop and bring what he stole back. 

It’s a Thursday evening, and Hongjoong would prefer to spend it doing anything else other than this - he usually spends this day of the week inside a heated cinema with a discounted ticker, in a large coat that effectively hides his ears and tail, and a big bucket of popcorn. It’s the one day of the week where he can do whatever he wants, and that’s why he never takes jobs on Thursdays. 

But he’s been short on money lately, and he can’t afford to not take advantage of any opportunities. 

He clutches the stolen pouch between his arm and his chest and keeps on running, looking behind his back every now and then as he makes his way up the underground staircase that ultimately leads to the metro tunnels. He knows he can’t take them in a fight, but he’s short and agile (it comes with his half-feline nature) and, as he finally makes it to the platform, where the people are waiting for their train and there are lights and security cameras, he slows his pace. Zipping up his coat and putting on his hoodie, he dives into the moving mass of the crowd, effectively disguising himself for the moment. 

Once the doors close behind him, he takes refuge at the back of the train, sitting between unsuspecting passengers with the pouch hidden in his coat. He looks down at his shoes - they’re wet with mud, leaving a trail of dirt across the carriage. That’s certainly not good. He pulls his hoodie even lower. 

Ding-ding. “Next stop: Kingstown. Next stop: Kingstown.”

Hongjoong settles further into the seat. He’s not planning on getting out of the train any time soon. Kingstown isn’t a place meant for him, anyway. 

There’s commotion happening in front of him that involuntarily makes him look up - the greatest mistake he could ever make. His chasers stare at him dead in the eye, a smile forming on their leader’s mouth. 

He makes a run for it instantly, pushing left and right as he travels from carriage to carriage, earning shocked responses and complaints from passengers being shoved around during his escape. The men follow the path he paves so quickly that there’s no chance of him escaping unless he gets off the train. An intense and abrupt movement reels him back, shoving him on the floor when the PA’s voice sounds through the speakers. 

Ding-ding. “Kingstown Station. Please mind the gap between the step and the platform.” 

He doesn’t wait until the automated voice has finished speaking - he’s already out the doors, frantically running up the stairs and refusing to look back. 

When he arrives at the ground level, he makes the mistake of readjusting the pouch in his hold - it takes up a few crucial seconds, enough for his chasers to catch up to him, shortening the distance between them. Their footfalls echo loudly, threatening voices reaching out their arms to catch him. 

So he keeps running, until he’s skipping over large puddles of rainwater in the asphalt, pushing through crowds that move in all sorts of directions, taking shortcuts through alleyways that only he knows and only he can sneak through and crawling through prickly bushes. The houses in this part of the city are fancy and ornate, hidden behind well kept gardens and high fences. The buildings are similar in architecture, housing expensive products and services open only to those who can empty their pockets fast enough. It’s not Hongjoong’s scene, never has been, but there’s little time to contemplate when he’s running for his life. 

“Over there!” Someone shouts. Certain passerbys have turned towards them, their attention alarmed. Hongjoong runs away from the busy main street so that they don’t notice him. His coat and hoodie hide his features, but if the local police get involved, he doesn’t know what fate has in store for him. A cage, probably. 

He turns right on the next corner and finds himself in an abandoned alley, at the back of a restaurant. It’s filled with trash and it stinks, but Hongjoong attempts to jump behind the recycling cans to hide until they lose him. 

Unfortunately, there’s no time. 

“There you are,” one of them says. Hongjoong shuts his eyes in frustration. “Fucker. So this is what Slicer sends as his debt collector?” The guy is short but stocky, and the rest of his crew stay put and silent as he speaks. Hongjoong didn’t even care to learn any of their names. And he hasn’t been working for Slicer for long. All he does is collect and get paid. 

“What a freak,” the leader says again. He’s holding a spiked nail baseball bat in one hand. The metal glints under the faint moonlight - it’s already covered in someone else’s blood, and it looks like Hongjoong’s is next. “Give us the money back, kitty cat.” 

“A debt that is owed should be paid in time,” Hongjoong growls out, hands curled in fists. Pointy nails protrude in his hold, ready to attack. He cares little for the relationships between the gangs, nor does he feel any need to defend his boss. Tomorrow, it’s going to be someone else. He simply lives as a parasite, an errand boy in the underbelly of the city. No master to serve, no debts of his own to collect. “Slicer said you’ve been stalling in your payments for two months now.” 

“And what would you know, freak,” someone at the back of the crew speaks up, voice coarse, “I’ve never seen your kind around here before. How long have you been working for him?” 

“I’m not here to make conversations,” he hisses, “Next time, make sure to put in your payments in time.” 

“I won’t be bossed around by an abomination,” the leader huffs out a laugh. The rest of them chuckle as well, pleased with his musings, “I’ll cut your fucking tail off as a prize - give me my money!” 

Hongjoong doesn’t move. 

“The cops aren’t that far away from us,” the leader says again. Red glints in his eyes, hand tight around the bat, “You know what they do to things like you if they catch you in their hands, right?” he laughs again, and the others join in. 

There’s no way for Hongjoong to run - they’ve cornered him, surrounded him in a brick-walled alley with no chance of making it without surrendering. Giving them the money is out of the question; his boss will be furious if he shows up with empty hands, and then he’ll starve for another two, maybe three weeks. 

Thunder strikes one, two, three times, startling all of them. 

The man’s patience has officially run out. 

He swings the spiked bat with strong arms, yelling out obscenities and profanities towards Hongjoong, who has no choice but to jump on top of the trash cans, avoiding the hits. Rotting food and paper flies everywhere as the crew dissolves into hysterics, swinging their self-made weapons around in the hopes of landing any blows on Hongjoong. 

His feet and arms act before he can give it much thought, primal instinct and adrenaline taking over his misshapen body. 

Hongjoong crawls up the brick wall in leaps, holding onto the slippery concrete with his long, sharp nails. He climbs frantically, doesn’t dare to look back, although he knows there’s nothing they can do to stop his escape. His tail is curled between his legs in fear that they’ll catch it. The intense rain and wind push back his hoodie involuntarily, revealing his twitching ears. He vaguely notices the men throwing rocks at him, but thankfully they miss but once - the blow lands on his Achilles’ heel, a zipping shock like lightning coursing through him at the sudden pain. 

“God fucking damn it! He’s getting away!” 

When Hongjoong reaches the roof, he gives his chasers one last look from afar - the men are disheveled and angry, soaked to the bone with rain and mud. 

“Fucking freak!” one of them yells, “When I get my hands on you, I swear-” 

Hongjoong doesn’t know why, but he clutches the pouch in his fist. There’s a lot of money there, and these men are not going to let him go until they get it back. They’ll wait for him to get down, throw rocks and sticks at him until he finally breaks. He should have never taken the job, should’ve never meddled with gangs and debts and rivalries. 

With a broken cry, he throws the pouch from the roof to the ground as thunder strikes again, shaking the entire town amidst the rainstorm.  

“The fuck is that? Wait, did he throw it? Get it, quickly-”  

Hongjoong doesn’t stay long to see their reaction. He keeps running, no, limping across the roof of the building he landed on, desperately to get as far away as he can. 

When he skips from one roof to another, he lands face first in the concrete terrace of the next building, leg too weak to support his fall. His head throbs at the impact and he curls in on himself, unable to get up and keep running. The rain soaks through his clothes, wetting his bare skin, lips and hands pale from the cold wind of the thunderstorm. 

His vision is blurry, but he can make out a distant orb of warm light in the horizon, two figures approaching him hurriedly. His ears ring from his injuries, so he can’t make out exactly what they’re saying. He tries to cover his ears with his hoodie, but his arms refuse to move - it’s futile to do anything but succumb to the darkness that takes over. 

“Is he alive?” 

He should’ve never worked on a Thursday. 

☾

Everything feels warm, for a change. 

His body has grown used to feeling cold and naked, skin hardening around him like armor to protect him from injuries and unfortunate circumstances. This time, however, there’s soft fabric wrapped around his body, as if he’s something precious to be cherished. 

Eyes fluttering, sleep drifts away - there’s something cool and soothing on his forehead, a minty freshness that pushes his dulling headache away little by little. 

“He’s waking up,” a voice murmurs. It sounds far away, distant, like an arm extending to grab and sink Hongjoong back into dreamland. If he listens to it, he can sleep for a few more minutes, he can follow it around and venture into clouds and fantasies away from the real world. 

His body, however, has already decided to awake, and Hongjoong can’t help but open his eyes. 

“Go on, bring him some water…” 

“Right, right.”  

Hongjoong grunts when he tries to get up and the pressure of his headache metastasizes to his nose, the bridge of it pounding with intense pain. Still, he pushes himself up with his hands in a sitting position. The soothing coolness - a compress of sorts that smells like mint and eucalyptus - drops from his forehead to his lap. He stares at it for a few seconds before daring to look up. 

An intimidatingly tall figure stands in front of him, staring down at him with a glass of water in hand. The man has broad shoulders and a stocky figure, messy silver hair like he dipped his head in moonlight. He’s wearing a long black coat with a raised collar, which does little to make him look more amicable. 

“Ah,” he has the deepest voice Hongjoong has ever heard, “Water?” 

“W-where,” Hongjoong’s voice cracks after such deep sleep, “Where the fuck am I?” 

“You’re in my house,” the man explains, full lips shaping the words like Hongjoong has trouble understanding him. “Drink some water.” 

He complies for the moment, as his throat feels quite parched. It also gives him the opportunity to observe his surroundings. He’s been placed on a leather couch of a deep maroon color, and the rest of the room matches the style of the furniture quite well. Not that Hongjoong knows the technicalities of architecture. He’s never had the chance to see much while living in the underground, apart from the mere glimpses of the houses he’s broken into, shrouded in darkness so that he wouldn’t get caught. Despite that, the earthy tones and the sleek materials are pleasing and warm to the eye. It’s luxurious, but welcoming. If he’s still in Kingstown, it would seem fitting for the inside of the houses to look like this. 

“Do you remember how you got here?” the stranger asks him. 

Thunder brews outside. “I-uh, I think so. I landed on your roof, didn’t I?” 

“You’d be hard to miss,” the man jokes. “Seonghwa said you broke your nose and badly injured your heel, but it’s nothing too serious. Fortunately, he said, your tail and ears are just fine.”

Hongjoong’s heart stills. His tail… his ears… he brings one hand up to cover his head, realizing in horror that the stranger can see the characteristics which distinguish him so greatly from other people. 

He breathes heavily, frozen in terror - he knows what cops do when they catch creatures like him, oddities that have somehow found their way in the underground away from prying hands and eyes. He doesn’t wish to find out what rich civilians will want to do with him. To him. 

“I-I need to go…” he murmurs, his injuries not allowing his usually fierce and defiant nature to take over. He tries to get up, throwing the blanket aside, but once he stands on his two legs the pain in his heel makes his knees buckle. 

“Hey,” the man rushes to help him up, trying to hold onto his elbows. But Hongjoong refuses, hissing in the hopes that the man will get scared and leave him alone. “Stop it, listen-” 

“Get the fuck off of me, I need to go,” Hongjoong insists, grunting. The man is much stronger than him, abnormally so. 

“Listen to me,” the other says, growling almost. Hongjoong looks up to stare in his eyes, only to realize that, from up close, his pupils are dark crimson pools. Between his parted lips, a pair of sharp, alabaster fangs peek through, a promise of violence and blood-thirst. Freakish nature stares back at him, like he’s looking in the mirror. Conflicted feelings pull on his heart like strings, familiarity and wonderment at the same time. 

“Your injuries need time to heal,” the stranger, the vampire, continues. Hongjoong is too shocked to protest, so he’s easily manhandled on the couch again, his injured leg propped on a pillow. “You’re safe here. And it’s still raining outside…” he falters. 

A moment passes. “Is this your house?” 

“It’s not mine, but I live here.” 

“Who else lives here?” 

The vampire huffs out a laugh, “You’ll meet them in time. And you can leave once your injuries have healed, you won’t be kept here without your will.” 

Hongjoong looks around skeptically. “I need to know that you won’t call the cops on me.” 

“I won’t,” the vampire replies in earnest. As if to make a point, he bares his fangs to Hongjoong, “You’d think I’d put myself through that trouble too?” 

This is only the second time Hongjoong has encountered a vampire - the creature he’d seen in the sewers a few years ago, the one he was told was a ‘blood-sucking demon’ from the boss he was working for back then, never truly revealed its true form, shrouded in the darkness of the underground and hiding behind storage units and abandoned stations. This vampire, on the other hand, looks uncannily human. Despite his pale skin and red eyes, one could easily mistake him for a regular guy, albeit a pretty one. 

Hongjoong nods in mutual understanding. 

“You hungry?” 

Hongjoong’s ears twitch. 

The vampire laughs, “Good, okay. I’ll bring you some food.” 

And then, he’s left alone. 

The previously dull headache has returned full force and his eyes keep watering from the pressure of his broken nose. His foot also hurts quite a bit, even though it’s perched on a pillow. He sighs, annoyed. He’s in a stranger’s house, injured and immobile for the time being. 

The stranger is a vampire though, he thinks. He wouldn’t give Hongjoong up to the authorities in fear of revealing his true nature to them as well. And hopefully, the chasers from the underground lost his tracks. They surely wouldn’t think he’d be bedridden and wrapped up in blankets in one of the opulent houses in Kingstown, would they? 

And that raises another question in Hongjoong’s head, he thinks while listening to the rain rattle against the windows. How can a vampire live in such luxury, amongst humans? Night creatures - that’s the polite term humans use when referring to them, in government paperwork and in news broadcasts.

 In everyday life, words like freaks, abominations and experiments are much more common. Their existence is still debated to this day, especially that of vampires and others who look identical to humans. But hybrids, like Hongjoong, don’t get to enjoy the luxury of living undetected. The underground, the sewers, the murky corners of the metro stations… that’s where Hongjoong felt protected. Not safe, but protected. 

When the vampire comes back, he’s holding a tray full of food, much more than what Hongjoong has ever had the chance of consuming in his life. “Don’t know if you have any allergies,” he says vaguely, pointing around to some chicken soup, fried saucy vegetables and aromatic garlic bread. “But you should eat first. Seonghwa said you can’t take more painkillers with an empty stomach.” 

He places the tray on Hongjoong’s lap - the food smells amazing, his mouth watering at the prospect of having his first warm meal in months. 

“Does it taste good?” Hongjoong wonders out loud, awkwardly. 

“I wouldn’t know,” the man chuckles. Right. A vampire, of course. 

The first spoonful ignites a fire in Hongjoong’s body, spreading its warmth across his limbs and organs and nourishing the pain away. He’s never tasted anything like it. He’s never known pleasure like this. 

He blinks back tears, swallowing, “T-this is really tasty…” he mumbles. The vampire stares at him with a small smile. “Did you make it?” 

“No he did not!” someone says in protest. The voice is loud and startling, making Hongjoong clutch onto the bowl. A figure appears behind the vampire, rushing into the room. He speaks fast, using his hands. 

“Do you like it? I made it! Knew you’d like it, everyone likes it. Mingi here can’t eat any of my food, obviously, but isn’t that a shame?” 

This other person is much shorter than the vampire, and inarguably human . He’s hunching near the couch where Hongjoong is sitting, in large, baggy clothes with assorted prints and logos on them. His ears are decorated with jewelry and his hair is an eye-catching pearly aqua color, falling in bangs at the sides of his face. His mouth is open wide in an earnest, excited smile, showing off his shiny teeth. 

Hongjoong isn’t sure what to be shocked at more - the fact that this delectable, soul-soothing chicken soup was made by a guy who looks like he’s hooked on an IV drip full of caffeine, or that a human and a vampire are standing next to each other, apparently cohabiting the same space? 

“I’m Wooyoung, by the way,” he tells Hongjoong. A confused expression takes over when the room falls silent. “Wait, did you not learn his name?” 

“He didn’t ask for mine so I didn’t ask for his,” the vampire answers softly. “He woke up a bit… disoriented.” 

“Well, it figures,” Wooyoung reasons. “In any case, I’m Wooyoung and this is Mingi,” he points to the vampire, “We saw you crash onto the roof from Seonghwa’s office that’s on the same floor. Seonghwa didn’t want to take you to a hospital once we, uh… Well, once we noticed the ears and the tail.” 

Hongjoong remains silent, working through his soup. He does feel grateful, however - there’s been many expeditions in the underground from hospitals and medical associations searching for night creatures to bring them back to their facilities and run tests on them. So far, no one that’s ever been taken has ever made it back. Sometimes, rival gangs will anonymously call hospitals and give reports of night creatures that have defied them when doing their dirty work, as payback. 

“You don’t have to give us your name,” Mingi says. Knowing his name now, Hongjoong can’t help but feel like it suits him. He looks placid and gentle, despite his height and his vampiric nature. “You can stay here while your injuries heal, and then leave without any trouble.” 

“Mingi-yah, that’s a talk we can have later,” Wooyoung scolds him gently. “Let the man eat first.” 

They leave Hongjoong alone on the couch to finish his dinner. In the silence of the room, Hongjoong contemplates on the fact that no one has ever referred to him as a man before. 

☾

When he finally wakes up from another nap hours later, he’s satiated and warm. Faint sunlight filters through the curtains, and a constant thrumming sounds throughout the entire room. It’s distant, but it looks like there’s people talking and walking around the house. He doesn’t move under the blanket and only peaks through his lashes to get a glimpse of what’s happening without rousing attention. 

The kettle is boiling water - a large, tall figure is moving around, holding a metallic, steaming shape. Someone else is running after them, one hand on their waist, “Don’t be too late in the evening, alright? You can study here without missing dinner.” 

“Y’know that’s sometimes out of my own jurisdiction,” the other person chuckles softly, turning around to embrace them, “But I’ll try. Perhaps I won’t have to work overtime at the lab. You might have to wait for me just a little, if that’s alright.” 

“I’ve waited almost two centuries. I can wait an entire lifetime.” 

The person huffs a laugh, “Why do you always say that…'' the rest of the conversation dissolves into soft whispers and languid kissing, something Hongjoong is too tense pretending to be asleep to stare at. 

Soon enough, the front door shuts closed and Hongjoong is left on his own again, but not for long - footfalls on the carpet alert him that another person is coming, and only when he realizes that the voice whistling and mumbling a song belongs to the human he met last night does he open his eyes. 

The human - Wooyoung, isn’t it? - is working in the kitchen, cracking eggs over a hot pan and slicing bacon into bits. It smells so good, and Hongjoong isn’t sure how much time has passed ever since he ate his chicken soup, but if this breakfast tastes anything like that, he needs to have a bite. 

He shouldn’t start craving this type of food. He shouldn’t get used to it. He’ll soon return to the underground, where none of this exists. 

“Ah, you’re awake,” the human exclaims happily, “Hungry?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, only takes one look at Hongjoong’s hungry stare and cracks a few more eggs in the pan, “I’ll bring the food there, you don’t have to get up. Do you like coffee?” 

“...I’ve never had coffee,” Hongjoong’s voice is hoarse after not speaking for so long. He’s not stupid, he knows what coffee is, but it’s never been something he needed to survive. 

“I love coffee,” Wooyoung continues conversing as he cooks, taking ingredients from the cupboards with liberty, “Seonghwa says I drink too much sometimes, which, fair, I guess. But I have lots of assignments, and sleeping won’t get them done for me. I’ll put in some sugar and milk for you, but I'll take mine plain.” 

The rest of the cooking process continues silently; Hongjoong’s eyes follow Wooyoung as the human brings plates of steaming eggs, bacon and tomato on the coffee table, following up with two cups of coffee and water. Slowly, Hongjoong detangles himself from the blanket, careful how he places his foot because of his injury, and digs in. 

It tastes so good that he doesn’t notice Wooyoung is speaking to him. “...What?” 

“Did you meet Jongho and Seonghwa? They were here before I came, but Seonghwa went to work and Jongho is sleeping upstairs right now.” 

Hongjoong stares out the window - the sun is high already, shining so brightly it makes his eyes squint, “Sleeping? Does he work at night?” 

“Ah no,” Wooyoung laughs. “Jongho is a vampire. He technically can stay awake in the mornings, but the sun gives him a headache, so he only does so on cloudy days.” 

Another vampire? What sort of house is this? Humans and vampires cohabiting the same space? 

From what he has gathered, the human and a vampire were personally intimate and affectionate with each other, too. Just what kind of house did he stumble into? 

“There’s more than one vampire in the house?” 

“Three of them, actually,” Wooyoung replies nonchalantly, “Mingi, Jongho who owns the house, and Yeosangie.” 

“And you guys live together?” 

“Why wouldn’t we? Jongho doesn’t charge us rent, thankfully.” 

Hongjoong lets out a sound that resembles a word or an exclamation, lips parted and a sentence lost between them. That wasn’t precisely what he was referring to, unless Wooyoung is so dense he doesn’t understand why vampires and humans living together would be an issue. 

“Uh, alright. I’ve just never seen that many vampires out in the open like this. Living with humans.” 

“Well, perhaps our arrangement isn’t the norm, but we make it work.” 

Hongjoong focuses on his breakfast instead - he can’t quite grasp the concept of these living arrangements, but despite the absurdity of the situation, these people don’t look like they’re going to hurt him. Still, having a bubbly human in his presence makes him feel more unsettled than the stoic vampire from last night. At least then, their shared abnormality gave him a sense of comfort. 

When he looks at Wooyoung again, he’s scarfed down the entirety of his plate, chewing loudly. 

“Do you like it?” 

“It’s good,” Hongjoong mumbles. 

“Nice! There’s some leftovers in the fridge, so help yourself if you want more. If your leg starts acting up, just call out for help.” 

Call for help? In this giant house where he barely knows his way around besides this room, where he knows no one’s intentions? 

“Right, I’m gonna go now. I’ve got a lecture in half an hour.” The human announces. 

And then, he does the unthinkable. 

He reaches out and starts petting Hongjoong’s ears. 

“What the hell are you doing?” is roughly what comes out of Hongjoong’s mouth in between hissing and cursing as he tries to get his head away from the human’s knobby, callous, offensive paws. Worst part of it all, Wooyoung looks at him with a flabbergasted look, bulging eyes and lips parted, hands suspended mid-air, cowering before Hongjoong’s hissy fit. “Leave me the fuck alone.” 

“What did I do?” Wooyoung has the gall to whine, loudly and childishly, “Ah, you scratched me!” he screeches when he notices the deep gash on his forearm, oozing hot blood, “What the fuck?” 

“Don’t ever touch me again,” Hongjoong hisses, heart pumping frantically and erratically. He’s panicking, he knows that, but the fact that he can’t move or run or even hide because of his injuries is making everything worse. And the human’s clueless, hurt look is only fueling his anger. 

“What’s going on?” a gravelly voice surprises them. At the doorway, they notice the vampire, Mingi, who seems to have unfortunately woken up by their fighting. His skin looks paler than the last time Hongjoong saw him, with intense bags under his eyes and chapped lips. He looks… rough. Like he’s just been violently disturbed from his slumber. “Why are you shouting?” 

“I…” Wooyoung tries to say. It’s clear that he’s used to never shutting up, Hongjoong thinks. Only this time, he doesn’t finish his sentence, because he knows he’s in the wrong. 

Mingi looks between them. His silver hair looks messy and unkempt, a completely different image than the dignified look he had when Hongjoong first met him. His eyes are red slits that observe them silently behind his glasses. 

“What did you do to him?” 

“Nothing, I just-” Wooyoung complains, flailing his arms, “I tried saying goodbye - wanted to give him an ear scratch, y’know how cats like that stuff. And since he’s part cat-” 

Hongjoong hisses. 

“Go to your lecture,” Mingi sighs, a comforting hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder, “I’ll see you in the afternoon, alright?” 

With a defeated but understanding look, Wooyoung grabs his backpack and rushes out the door, not sparing Hongjoong another look. 

In the privacy of the living-room, Mingi turns to Hongjoong, “Sorry about that. Wooyoung is the most kind-hearted person I know, truly. But he’s also human, and he sometimes disregards our… social cues, let’s say.” 

Hongjoong squints at him but doesn’t say anything. Having someone touch him so abruptly really shook him up - just because he’s part cat, now what the fuck did that even mean? Coddling and petting were not things he’d grown up with, after all. He’s gone through life avoiding having people touch him; people never had good intentions when trying to do so.

“Don’t hold a grudge, if you can,” Mingi tells him. “He didn’t mean to make you upset. He’s going to think about it all day now and feel bad, I just know it. But I can also understand why you became violent. You might’ve felt helpless, shocked-” 

“What-” Hongjoong says, frustrated, “Why are you talking like that?” He feels like he’s been put on an examination table, with doctors analyzing his behavior like he’s a specimen. 

“Ah,” Mingi rubs his face, trying to appear less sleepy. A yawn escapes him. “I’ve been studying psychology while I work.” 

“You work? But aren’t you-” 

“Listen,” Mingi sighs, “There’s no way I’m falling asleep now. Your leg must hurt too. Let’s move to the kitchen, I need to drink something.”  

Once Hongjoong is sitting on a stool behind the kitchen island, he watches as Mingi drags his tired body to the fridge - he grabs a squishy bag that’s full of blood, dark crimson blood, and promptly empties it in a mug that says No1 Dad on it. And then he chugs down almost half of it in one go.

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Hongjoong mumbles, “It’s just that, the only times I’ve ever stumbled upon vampires they certainly weren’t as prim and proper as you are about it.” 

Mingi shrugs his shoulders and sits down opposite of Hongjoong, presenting a glass of water to him. 

“Okay,” the vampire says, “I assume that our living situation might seem surprising to you. The house is big, and both humans and vampires live here. We’ve been living together for quite a while, prim and proper as you say.” 

“How haven’t you killed each other?” 

“We’re roommates! Why would I ever kill any of them?” 

“What about that?” Hongjoong gestures to the blood. 

“Seonghwa gets it for me.” At Hongjoong’s eyebrow raise, he sighs, “Hyung is a medical student. He’s working on his PhD, if you wanna know. This is ethically sourced blood.” 

“He’s a… doctor…” Hongjoong murmurs to himself. 

But the look Mingi gives him doesn’t allow for any suspicion. “I wouldn’t live with someone if I didn’t know I would be safe from any authorities that wanna get their grabby hands on me. You’re safe here. Besides, Seonghwa-hyung wants to help us.” 

“He’s human, no?” Hongjoong guesses, still suspicious. 

“A human who’s in a relationship with a vampire,” Mingi clarifies with a smile, “You think he’d put Jongho in any sort of danger?” 

Ah, so that’s how it is. “He and Jongho are working on ways that us night creatures can slowly be integrated into the human world. Who knows when that’s gonna happen… But they’re very passionate about it.” 

“Do other humans know that you’re a vampire?” 

“Other than the ones who live here? No, the ones who did have already passed.” 

There’s silence after that. As overwhelmed as Hongjoong might feel concerning the people who’ve sheltered him and their bizarre living arrangement, he can’t help but notice the ache and hurt in Mingi’s solemn words. He watches as the vampire drinks the rest of the blood slowly, regaining a hint of blush on his pale cheeks and slowly waking up. If Mingi’s calm disposition is anything to trust, he could allow himself to feel a bit more relaxed. 

“My name is Hongjoong, by the way.” 

“Hongjoong, huh? Has a nice ring to it.” 

☾

“It’s nice to treat someone without you being unconscious,” Seonghwa laughs softly as he pats around Hongjoong’s nose. 

His bandages have been carefully changed around his leg, wounds and bruises treated accordingly, and his nose bridge is wrapped in new gauze as well. He’s been healing rather quickly, Seonghwa tells him. “It’s common among night creatures to heal much quicker than humans,” he’d explained when Hongjoong first entered his office - consciously, this time - in the evening. 

His office is at the highest floor of the house, one which can be accessed by an elevator - there’s no doubt that the vampire called Jongho who owns this building is loaded . Fitting for someone who lives in this neighborhood. Fitting for a vampire, who’s probably been alive for way too long and has accumulated lots of money. 

But Jongho’s boyfriend is human - Seonghwa is a gentle, tall man, who wears what can only be described as classy clothes and has tied his long black hair near his nape, strands escaping to frame his face. He uses a quiet and slow voice as he explains to Hongjoong exactly what he does, warning him when Hongjoong could potentially feel some pain. He seems knowledgeable but doesn’t act high and mighty because of it. Indeed, he looks quite happy now that Hongjoong isn’t completely unconscious. 

“You’ve treated night creatures before?” Hongjoong asks, but immediately regrets it - of course Seonghwa has. 

“Quite a few,” he says, “I’m getting a PhD on it, in fact.” 

“Yeah, Mingi told me…” Hongjoong murmurs. Unease bubbles in his stomach. Despite Seonghwa’s kind disposition, just the mere knowledge that he’s working with people who have successfully attempted to capture and experiment on people like him makes him squirm. 

“I understand your concerns,” Seonghwa tells him, “Like Mingi said, however, you’re free to leave once your injuries heal. Just like I protect the others, I also want to protect you.” 

“You don’t know me, though.” 

“I don’t have to know you to treat you with respect.” 

There’s a moment of silence between them while Seonghwa cleans up and puts his tools back into his medical kit. Hongjoong sits on the elevated examination table, swinging his legs and tail back and forth. Just then, there’s a knock on the door and a hesitant face peeking through. 

“Wooyoungie! Come in!” 

“Ah, hello,” Wooyoung says sheepishly. He doesn’t dare to look Hongjoong in the eye, “You’re busy, hyung. I can come later.” 

“No, it’s okay - him and I just finished, actually.” Right, he still hasn’t told anyone else his name - apparently Mingi didn’t disclose that information to the rest, waiting for Hongjoong to do it in his own time; he appreciates that. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, just a scratch,” Wooyoung shrugs his shoulders and pulls up his sleeve. It’s definitely much more than a simple scratch - the indent Hongjoong’s nails left on his skin is deep and bloody, something that will definitely leave a scar behind for him to remember. The moment Hongjoong sees it, a weird feeling takes over. Did Wooyoung walk around like this all day? Did he not even put a plaster on it? 

Why should he care anyways? He’s done much worse while living underground to others, humans and night creatures alike. 

There’s caked blood stuck on the sleeve of Wooyoung’s sweater. Hongjoong looks away. 

“That’s more than a scratch, Wooyoungie,” Seonghwa tells him. “We need to disinfect it first, alright? This might hurt a little.” 

“That’s fine,” Wooyoung murmurs. His aqua hair falls in front of his eyes, concealing his expression. He hisses when the disinfectant salve touches the gash, muscles and veins flexing as his arm tightens and stills. Seonghwa’s hands gently pat around the wound with a gauze before grabbing a new one and carefully wrapping it around. “Thank you.” 

“No worries,” Seonghwa reaches up to ruffle his hair. His eyes shift back and forth from Hongjoong to Wooyoung, knowingly, as if he’s figured something out. Hongjoong will give it to him that he’s perceptive. Or intuitive. 

“Once you can stand on your feet I’d recommend detangling your hair,” he tells Hongjoong kindly. “The fur and hair around your ears is matted and it’s going to start itching soon if you don’t comb away the knots.” 

Hongjoong takes a few strands near his nape between his fingers. His hair is naturally ginger and he’s only ever had to cut it to free himself from tight spaces as it would get tangled around pipes and wire fences. He doesn’t brush it and he doesn’t look at himself in the mirror, like ever. 

“Um, I could help out.” 

Hongjoong gulps. Wooyoung’s voice sounds tiny and terrified, like he’s afraid Hongjoong is going to attack him again. His stomach twists in a knot, shame curling deep inside him. 

“That’s a good idea, Wooyoungie!” Seonghwa praises him. “If, uh…” 

“Hongjoong…” Hongjoong says. 

“If Hongjoong is okay with this, you helping him out would be great. It would save us a lot of trouble and you will have one less thing to worry about while healing your injuries.” 

“Okay.” 

“Y-you’re sure?” Wooyoung finally dares to look up to him, eyes wide open in shock. “I can just-” 

“I said okay ,” Hongjoong groans. “Help me down from here.” 

“Right, go on, you two have fun,” Seonghwa claps his hands excitedly, “I have to study for tomorrow.” 

“Hyung, it’s nearly 11…” 

“No rest for the wicked. Now shoo!” 

With one arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders, Hongjoong limps his way across the hallway, guided by Wooyoung’s (murmured) instructions en route to the main bathroom. In it, the bathtub is large enough to fit at least three people - there’s also a shower, and the surrounding tiles and shelves are covered with bath products, candles and personal hygiene items. Hongjoong has broken into quite a few rich people's houses in his lifetime up until this point, however the vast majority of them had been luxurious, with marble granite covering every inch and not a single towel out of place. This time, the room feels lived in, cluttered and crowded. He’s horrified to find himself enjoying a sense of familiarity he has no place indulging in. 

“Uh, right,” Wooyoung mumbles awkwardly, “Since you can’t stand on your injured leg, I figured you could get in the bathtub, and I’ll sit behind you and help you out. That alright?” 

“Yeah…” 

After fumbling around and taking his clothes off, Hongjoong waits with a bathrobe around his naked body as Wooyoung fills the tub with hot, bubbling water. It’s weirdly intimate and quiet, but what irks Hongjoong off the most is that Wooyoung won’t even look at him. 

“Uhm,” his voice is barely more than a whisper, “I’m sorry I touched you like that in the morning. I don’t know you, I shouldn’t have been so forward. Sorry.” 

Hongjoong clenches his jaw, “That’s fine. Sorry for uh… scratching you.” He doesn’t think he’s ever apologized for ever causing an injury, but Wooyoung looks like a sad, neglected puppy and that does something to Hongjoong’s heart-strings. “Does it hurt?” 

“Nah,” Wooyoung scoffs, brushing it off, “I think I deserved it a little too. But, maybe next time I do something to piss you off, just yell at me, okay?” 

Hongjoong cocks his head to the side, “You’re planning on pissing me off even more in the future?” 

“It’s one of my traits, I’m told.” 

There’s a moment of silence, and then the two of them burst into soft giggles. Hongjoong has never laughed like this. He can’t remember the last time he laughed at all. He finds he likes the way it makes his chest hurt - it makes him feel alive. 

“Ah, I think the water is ready.” 

Hongjoong abandons his robe on the floor, limping towards the bathtub - he takes Wooyoung’s hand and allows him to help him get inside, even if Wooyoung doesn’t look his way, red ears peeking through aqua hair. The water is pleasantly hot, steaming rising up and kissing his cheeks gently. 

He’s still, nails digging in his palms. The impending touch of Wooyoung’s hands is enough to make him freeze in agony. 

“Can I touch around your ears?” 

“Okay, I guess...” 

He lets the warmth envelop him like a hug, grateful that he’s sweating already to conceal the way his eyes well up. 

In the entirety of the bathroom, only the gentle sound of running water cascading down Hongjoong’s back can be heard. Wooyoung scoops handfuls of it, letting it run down Hongjoong’s hair gently, avoiding getting water in his ears. They twitch involuntarily - Hongjoong can’t help it, he’s never felt a touch as gentle as this. He hugs his knees to his chest, back curved awkwardly like a shrimp. It’s good that he cannot see Wooyoung. That Wooyoung cannot see him. 

With a generous dollop of shampoo emulsified in between Wooyoung’s fingers, he begins massaging it into Hongjoong’s matted, knott-filled hair. He’s gentle and careful, like he’s learned from his mistake and now every movement is done timidly. Hongjoong’s tail swishes in the water, creating tiny ripples around his naked body. 

After his hair has been soaped up, Wooyoung grabs a hairbrush and begins untangling different strands, combing them through from his scalp to the tops of his shoulders where the ends of his hair have grown to by now. The human must sense the awkwardness between them because he begins humming a low tune of some song Hongjoong has never heard before. He has a high, melodic voice - Hongjoong closes his eyes and finds himself drifting away, in a gentle darkness that envelops him and keeps him safe. 

He doesn’t realize tears have escaped his eyes until they drop on his hands, like the first few moments before a rainstorm happens.

Wooyoung hasn’t stopped singing or combing this entire time, carefully running the brush through his hair, “I think I got all of them,” he suddenly speaks. “Did I hurt you at all? The ones around your ears were a bit difficult.” 

“N-no,” Hongjoong tries to conceal the tremble in his voice, “It was fine.” 

“Hongjoong, right?” 

“Mhm.” 

Wooyoung washes out the suds, scooping up water with a glass until all of the foam has disappeared from his hair. Then, he picks up another bottle and begins lathering his hair with something else that has a very pleasant smell; oranges, Hongjoong realizes. 

“So, Hongjoong, where do you come from?” 

He strokes around Hongjoong’s ears - he probably picked up that that’s something that makes his ears and tail pleasantly twitch, damn him - and it’s impossible for Hongjoong to do anything else other than sigh and nod. The human seems harmless enough, and Hongjoong has proved already that he won’t shy away from using violence, even if he’s getting bathed . 

“What does that mean?” 

“I’ve never seen you before. You’re not from around here, are you?” 

“Do you know every single person in the city, then?” 

“I walk around a lot,” Wooyoung reasons. His fingers continue to lather the tips of Hongjoong’s hair. “Not to be rude, but you would be hard to miss.” 

Hongjoong chuckles solemnly, “I’ve lived here ever since I can remember myself. It’s a good thing you haven’t run into me - it would either be the last day of your life or the worst day of your life.” 

Wooyoung gulps. 

“I stay underground,” he continues, “I come up a few times a week when I have to. I try to avoid it.” 

“Underground...” 

Hongjoong sighs, “There’s an entire system of abandoned tunnels and sewers where the old trains used to pass through. It runs under the entire city. It even connects to the current metro system.” 

“Oh, I think Mingi told me about it once…” Wooyoung ponders. “So you live there? What do you do?” 

Warm water runs down Hongjoong’s head. Wooyoung must be washing the foam out of his hair. “I do live there. And I do things for people.” 

“Like?” 

“Bring things, give things, steal things,” he says. “I’m small and I can sneak around unnoticed.” 

“For other night creatures?” 

“I’ve done that too. But night creatures are significantly less than humans in the underground, so I mostly work for them.” 

“I didn’t know that…” 

Hongjoong shrugs his shoulders. For the first time in ages, his body feels truly relaxed, all tension melting away. He doesn’t think his hair has ever felt this clean. Wooyoung grabs a towel and begins patting gently around his scalp, absorbing the excess water. 

“Let me help you…” 

“You’re gonna look at me while you do so?” Hongjoong teases him, eager to shift the conversation to something else. 

But Wooyoung only scoffs and hides behind his bangs again as he helps Hongjoong out of the bathtub, water rippling with small waves as he moves around. He wiggles his tail, wetting the tiles with his drenched fur and steps carefully on the bath mat, hissing when he puts most of his weight on his injured leg by mistake. 

“C-can you change on your own?” Wooyoung murmurs. 

Hongjoong chuckles. What is it about his body that makes Wooyoung this flustered? He’s never thought much of it - nakedness holds nothing to make him feel shameful, compared to other parts of a body stuck between worlds. Having a human look at him and blush instead of attacking or berating him gives him a chance to be smug about it; who knows when it’s gonna be the next time he gets a chance like this after he leaves this house? 

After Hongjoong puts on what Wooyoung classifies as nightwear (while the human has turned his back on him and awkwardly fumbles with his fingers), the two of them finally exit the bathroom with Hongjoong’s arm around Wooyoung to help him limp his way to the living room. This time, when they reach the ground floor, the door to Mingi’s room is open. 

The vampire sits at his desk, donning a hoodie and a pair of glasses. He’s speaking to someone, wearing a set of headphones and staring at the blue light emitting from his monitor while the rest of the room is shrouded in darkness. 

“Ah, he’s working,” Wooyoung observes. 

“He has a job?” Hongjoong wonders, keeping his voice low. He didn’t think the vampire was being serious. Mingi continues to talk into the mic, writing down scribbles with his pen. 

“Mhm. He works as a telephone counselor in a hotline for teens and young adults. If people are having a hard time, they can call him and he knows what to say to calm them down.” 

“But how… if he’s-” 

“You think they know?” Wooyoung tells him, “And what does it matter anyway, if he’s a vampire? He works over the phone, no one can see his face. And he takes the night shifts, which not a lot of people can handle. But he can, obviously .” 

Mingi keeps talking on the phone, a small smile playing on his lips. “Deep breaths,” he says in a low tone, “That’s it. You’re okay. Just keep breathing for me for a moment. Hold it for 10, 9, 8…” 

“People say he has a very soothing voice,” Wooyoung says boastfully, “If you feel particularly bad, it’s nice to talk to someone who will listen and help you out, human or otherwise. I always rant to him when I feel bad. He says some of the most profound things I’ve ever heard.” 

As Hongjoong listens to a one-sided conversation shaped through Mingi’s baritone voice, a tiny part of him wishes he could have had something similar during the times he’d found himself wishing he didn’t have to wake up the next morning. 

☾

Hongjoong thinks he dislikes routine - he’s only recently come to realize what falling into a repetitive pattern of everyday life is like, and he has already decided to not particularly like it, despite a guilty part of him enjoying it immensely. He shouldn’t be getting used to having breakfast in the morning with these people, he shouldn’t be getting used to the chatter of voices always occupying at least one room in the house. He’s never lived like this, never lived with people without sleeping with one eye open lest he was attacked. This comfortability he’s slowly slipping into is making his skin itch. 

It’s been almost two weeks of him staying in the house, and he’s finally gotten acquainted with every resident - from the reserved and alluring vampire Yeosang, who’s sleep schedule is weirdly irregular and Wooyoung’s always attached to his hip if he’s not pestering Hongjoong, to the owner of the house and benefactor of whatever this roommate situation is; the eldest vampire out of the three, Jongho. 

He doesn’t look the part - he looks no more than a day older than Wooyoung is, when it comes to his flawless skin and alabaster complexion. Few are the things that could betray his true nature. Perhaps the way he holds himself or the classic, modest outfits he dons on while still staying inside the house, enjoying a glass of blood in his office in a three-piece suit. He doesn’t know exactly what Jongho does, even though he doesn’t need to do much to sustain himself. Him and Seonghwa apparently work together on the latter’s PhD research on supernatural creatures, spending hours on the upper floor of the house. But whenever they do appear on the dinner table, Jongho always has a story to tell. 

“I’m a product of what happens when someone loves you too much,” he tells Hongjoong when the latter had asked him how he came to be. He’d mentioned how he and his family were bedridden for weeks, centuries ago, battling an unknown illness to the brink of death. When a vampire had stumbled into their estate, looking for prey, his parents had bargained with the creature to spare their son and turn him, battling his illness with immortality, and taking them instead. 

Hongjoong hadn’t missed the way Seonghwa had leaned in closer, hand reaching out to Jongho’s under the table. 

Mingi came to know Jongho a few decades after the latter was turned, and ever since then their paths had intersected a handful of times before Jongho had finally proposed they live together. Then, decades later, in the recent past, Jongho had met Seonghwa, enchanted by his passion for research and justice. “His pretty face probably had something to do with it, too,” Mingi had mentioned, laughing. 

He doesn’t find out how Yeosang became a vampire until a fight breaks out between him and Wooyoung. 

“Yeosangie, c’mon-” 

“No,” the usually soft-spoken Yeosang says; this time, his voice is bursting with anger. His fangs peek out of his mouth, dark hair tucked behind ears, “Stop fussing over me, it’s annoying! Stop treating me like a child!” 

“I’m not treating you like a child!” Wooyoung shouts back, shocked and hurt. 

“Yes you are - I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Wooyoung.” 

The door slams behind him, leaving the rest of them in still silence. 

Hongjoong, finally able to walk around with minimal limping, walks towards Wooyoung who’s still standing in front of the front door, face forlorn and helpless. 

“Everything okay?” 

“What? Uh, yeah, yeah ‘m fine…” Wooyoung brushes it off, pushing his hands inside his pockets. But it’s futile to pretend that nothing has happened between the two of them, and Mingi arrives just at the right moment to stir up the pot again. 

“Did Yeosang go out again?” he asks, mentioning as if it’s something of a daily occurence. 

“Yeah…” Wooyoung sighs. 

“I heard you two were fighting.” 

“It’s nothing,” Wooyoung dismisses him. 

“Hongjoong, where they fighting?” 

His eyes go wide, tail sticking up and staying still, “Uh, yeah, kind of.” He doesn’t really appreciate being put on the spot like this, especially when Wooyoung glares at him momentarily before angrily stomping to the kitchen. “What’s all this about?” he asks Mingi quietly. 

“Yeosang and Wooyoung are childhood friends,” the vampire explains in a hushed tone - Wooyoung angrily moves through the kitchen, slamming pots and pans on the counter and grumbling to himself. “Wooyoung knew Yeosang before the other was turned. Yeosang’s a fairly new vampire, you see-” 

“I’d appreciate it if you two didn’t talk behind my back,” Wooyoung calls from the kitchen. When the other two get there, he’s holding a large knife and angrily cutting a few oranges in little slices. There’s also a pot heating up milk on the stove. 

“You okay?” Hongjoong asks. 

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m making hot chocolate, do you guys want any?” 

“When Wooyoung gets anxious, he cooks,” Mingi blasts him out, laughing awkwardly when Wooyoung looks up with a murderous look in his eye, “Wooyoungie, there’s no point in pretending. Just tell Hongjoong what’s wrong, get it off your chest.” 

“Ugh,” Wooyoung groans, “Fine.” 

“Good. Make a hot chocolate for Hongjoong, too. I’ll pour myself a cup…” he trails off, since the other two know exactly what he means. 

Hongjoong takes a seat on the stool, right in front of the kitchen island. Wooyoung continues to cut thin slices of orange and place them on a plate. 

“When I told you I didn’t know much of what the underground was,” he begins timidly, “I wasn’t exactly honest. I know what it is. A couple of years ago… Yeosangie and I got lost and we ended up stumbling into one of the tunnels. I was way more excited than him to explore, so I roped him into it…” 

Just then, the pot starts dangerously bubbling, so Wooyoung adds the chocolate powder and some sugar and continues stirring in silence, jaw clenched. It must be hard for him, and Hongjoong already has an inclination of where the story might be headed. Just then, Mingi shows up with an animal-themed mug filled to the brim with crimson blood, smiling sheepishly when Hongjoong takes more than a few moments to stare at it. 

“Let’s go sit in the garden,” he suggests, “It’s not that cold tonight.”

☾

The garden is a quaint little place - there’s comfortable sofas and deck chairs surrounding a small coffee table, as well as a garden swing. The three of them decide to sit there, with Wooyoung in the middle, gently rocking back and forth as they sip from their still scalding hot chocolates. There’s only a few lanterns illuminating the outdoor area, thick fog spreading across the grass and flowers planted here and there - it is October, after all. 

“It’s my fault,” Wooyoung murmurs, like he’s confessing. Hongjoong doesn’t dare look him in the eye. The human wears his heart on his sleeve, and the thought of staring into his welled up, tearful eyes as he hears him tell the story in a broken voice makes something twist in Hongjoong’s stomach. A powerful emotion that he doesn’t wish to name, for it scares him too much. 

“I teased him, told him he was being a scaredy cat for not following me and exploring the tunnels with me. I-I pressured him into coming down with me… we walked around for a while without bumping into anyone. A-and then…” he buries his nose in his mug, as if taking a sip from his drink will give him some sort of sugar-induced bravery. 

“It’s fine,” Hongjoong finds himself saying, “You can say it.” 

A tear finally rolls down Wooyoung’s cheek, bottom lip trembling, “This, uh, vampire attacked us. Mingi told me that most vampires that stay underground are very feral… they don’t speak like humans do because they’ve never ventured outside, always living their lives in darkness. Their bloodthirst is so intense that their hunting resembles that of an animal…” He takes a deep breath, chest trembling like he’s afraid to utter his next words. “W-we didn’t see it, or him… or… I don’t know, but it snuck up on us… it had already grabbed Yeosangie by the time I realized what was happening… I-I didn’t… I just stood there… doing nothing… h-he was looking at me the whole time...I-” 

The sound of Wooyoung finally bursting into tears is heart-shattering. 

Hongjoong instinctively wraps his arms around him, letting the broken boy sob into his chest, face getting redder by the second. 

Mingi curls his body closer, wrapping one arm around Wooyoung’s tummy and gently patting his back with the other. His cries are a jarring sound to hear in the middle of a quiet, cold night, but in that moment, time stops for Hongjoong. All he cares about is consoling Wooyoung. 

He doesn’t know how - there’s nothing he’s ever habitually learned about companionship. And yet, his instincts are telling him to hold close and never let go. Wooyoung cries into the material of his sweater, whimpering and hiccuping, tears coming out like a faucet. 

“It’s not your fault,” Mingi tells him, “It’s not your fault, and Yeosangie has told you so as well. He doesn’t blame you for what happened, he never did. You saved his life.” 

Hongjoong stays silent. His eyes are closed, focusing on holding Wooyoung tightly in his embrace. He hopes the warmth of his body can reach the human, he hopes his efforts aren’t in vain and that Wooyoung is comforted by him. He’s never felt like this before - it feels like his heart is going to jump out of his chest. He’s so caught up in the novelty of such an experience that he doesn’t notice, minutes later, when Wooyoung finally calms down from his sobbing. 

“A-are you purring ?” 

“What?” Hongjoong squeaks out, cheeks ablaze, “No, I’m-” 

“You are!” Wooyoung sniffles, letting out a weak chuckle, “Do it again, it feels nice. You sound like a massage chair.” 

“I don’t - I don’t think I’ve ever done this before…” Hongjoong murmurs to himself. Wooyoung leans down to place his head on his lap, head snuggled against his tummy. He grumbles and then settles further into the garden swing, his chest rumbling with a relaxing, lulling sound. 

“So nice…” Wooyoung sniffles and then stays quiet, letting Hongjoong pet his hair. 

Mingi then takes the lead in the conversation, taking into consideration Wooyoung’s already droopy eyes. “Whatever had confronted them was only brave enough to attack Yeosang… Wooyoung doesn’t remember much, only that he screamed until the creature ran back into their lair. And then, he picked him up and basically carried him through the tunnels back to Seonghwa’s house. Him and Wooyoungie have known each other since their first year of college.” 

“Was Seonghwa with Jongho at the time?” 

“Mhm,” Mingi nods, “Seonghwa has always been knowledgeable about night creatures, it’s why he went into medicine in the first place. Wooyoung stumbled at his doorstep with a half-dead Yeosang in his arms-” 

“Don’t say that…” Wooyoung mumbles with his eyes closed. 

“I’m sorry,” Mingi says sheepishly, “Don’t feel bad. He’s now undead , like me.” That earns him a clumsy kick from Wooyoung, and he chuckles. “Jongho was the one who turned him. It’s almost been two years since the two of them moved in with us. Wonderful and loud addition to the family.” That earns him another kick. 

The wind whistles as it travels past them, picking up dry leaves in oranges and reds and passing them from one garden patch to another. It’s getting late, they should probably head inside soon. Wooyoung’s gentle breathing feels warm enough against Hongjoong’s thighs, however. 

“Why did you two fight tonight?” The purring continues after he stops speaking, and his cheeks flush at how unable he is to stop it. What’s wrong with him?!  

“Well, from my understanding, Yeosangie wanted to go on a run again… young vampires have lots of energy and can’t really control their blood-thirst. We go out together most of the time so I help him out when he feels on edge, but sometimes he just wants some time for himself. But this one is always scared that something’s gonna happen to Yeosang, as if he isn’t basically immortal now.” 

Wooyoung grumbles, pouting, “So it’s my fault for being a good friend…” 

“It’s not, you brat. You can be kind of nagging, though. Relax a little. He’s not the frail little thing anymore - have you not seen how buff he is nowadays?” 

Hongjoong thinks back to bulging muscles escaping from the confines of those sleeveless shirts Yeosang always wears around the house, whenever Hongjoong has the chance of bumping into him. 

“Did he tell you where he was going?” Wooyoung asks. 

“Just at the nearby park. He likes outrunning the dogs.” 

The three of them settle into a comfortable silence - the night is quiet and pleasant. It’s different when you get to enjoy the stillness with others by your side, Hongjoong faintly thinks to himself. It doesn’t take long for their eyes to grow heavy, sleep and hot chocolate like a thin veil over their bodies as they fall asleep on the garden swing, one human squeezed between two night creatures who keep him warm until the early hours of the morning. Something moves in the distance, leaves rustling behind barely there footfalls. As soon as it comes, it scurries away, lost in the darkness. 

☾

“Are you certain it was him?” 

“Well, not exactly-” 

“Then why the fuck did I send you searching for him?” he growls, “Search again.” 

“I-it looked like him, boss. But it was too dark, I couldn’t see well-” 

“I said search again,” Slicer orders, and the others scurry away immediately. “Or else I’ll seek him out myself.” 

☾

“Would you like some wine?” 

“I’ve never tried any.” 

“Obligatory one-tasting time, then.” 

“Mingi…” Hongjoong whines, “I’m not about to drink alcohol and play board games or whatever you vampires do in the evenings when the humans go to bed. How do you guys even drink wine? I thought you weren’t able to consume anything other than blood-” 

“Okay, first of all,” Mingi raises his brows, slightly offended, “We don’t just play board games. Secondly, there’s nothing wrong with board games. Thirdly, wine is fine for us to drink. There’s some loophole in our systems-” 

“How convenient.” 

“-But I always mix it with some blood,” he explains, showing him a smile full of alabaster fangs. 

Routines again; Hongjoong needs to stop falling into those, but with every day that passes in this house while he stays with these people, he finds it harder to detach himself, rip his body away from the glue-like comfort that unites him with them. And one of these routines happens to be spending his evenings with Wooyoung the human and Mingi the vampire. 

“What a cute trio you three make!” Seonghwa had mentioned in passing, bright-eyed and ready to go to work despite it being the ass-crack of dawn as the other three were just getting ready to go to sleep. Between a vampire, a cat hybrid and an over-caffeinated human, staying up all night was something they’d found in common and cherished, even if Hongjoong refused to admit it. 

“Are we having wine tonight?” Wooyoung suddenly runs into the kitchen, “I just finished my essay and I’m hammered - wait, can Hongjoong even have wine?” At the raise of a brow, he explains, “Y’know, part cat and all?” 

“I think it’ll be fine,” Mingi assures him. “Maybe it’ll allow him to loosen up and abandon the ice prince facade he puts on in front of us.” 

“I do no such thing!” Hongjoong gasps, brows furrowing. His ears twitch involuntarily, and by that point he knows he’s lost the argument. 

The wine night, as Wooyoung dubs it, starts out simple enough. Yeosang is peacefully asleep in his room (after successfully reconciling with Wooyoung and sharing hugs and cuddles) and Jongho with Seonghwa are very much preoccupied in their own room. That leaves the three of them, the mismatched three, with a bottle of intense, fruity dark wine and an endless stream of banter. 

Soon enough, however, the mead completes its task at rendering them giggly and light-headed successfully. Hongjoong’s foot is completely healed by now, and only a few bruises on his nose remain, covered by a thin strip of gauze material. This means that he doesn’t hesitate for a moment to kick and knock Wooyoung’s body away when the latter tries to reach out and tickle him, breath smelling like wine from meters away. 

“N-no!” He protests breathlessly, laughter escaping his lips and Wooyoung’s hands reach around his waist. Mingi hasn’t stopped laughing ever since this game started, but he prefers to watch them have at it, sipping from his wine and blood concoction slowly. “Mingi-yah, tell this gremlin to get off of me!” 

Something mischievous and sneaky flashes in Mingi’s eyes. 

“Wooyoungie,” he says in that deep, baritone voice of his, settling his glass on the coffee table. “If you really wanna get at him, you gotta be brave!” 

And with one swift motion, he’s grabbing Hongjoong’s long, fluffy tail and pulling, albeit gently, on it, just enough to make the night creature yelp in surprise. 

“Hey!” he yells, face flushing with embarrassment - it’s no secret that night creatures’ tails are extremely sensitive to the touch, especially when the touch is practiced with benevolent intentions. Mingi knows this, Hongjoong realizes. Dammit, the wine is really getting to him, because just by this single action there’s already something brewing in his insides, something he hasn’t felt in a while - arousal.  

“Ah, Mingi, don’t do that,” Wooyoung chides him, hiccuping, “Hongjoong doesn’t like it when people touch him so abruptly.” 

Hongjoong looks away, ears twitching in barely hidden excitement. 

“Is that so,” Mingi taunts further, a wolfish grin on his lips, “Is that why he’s wrapping his tail around me?” 

“I-” Hongjoong protests, but it’s futile. His long, fluffy tail is wrapped around Mingi’s arm, gently moving as to coax him to touch it further. 

Hongjoong doesn’t know if it’s the wine, or his instincts, or his own free will, finally breaking free from the shell of a person he’d grown accustomed to being, but something draws him in closer. There’s two pairs of hands on his body, circling him like he’s something precious, something to be cherished. Wooyoung looks at him with curiosity, wide sparkling eyes looking hazy like they’re covered with film. Mingi, on the other hand, stares at him knowingly, red eyes intensified by his consumption of wine and blood - their shared supernatural nature leaves many words understood but unsaid, an invisible red thread connecting them. 

Despite that, Wooyoung is the first one who leans in to kiss him. 

It catches him off guard, Wooyoung’s lips stifling a yelp that gets lost in their kiss. The human’s eyes are closed, lashes fluttering with the sensation, but Hongjoong is so shocked he can’t look away, eyes wide open as he feels a tongue prod at his mouth. A pair of arms wraps around his waist - Mingi’s. They’re large and warm and hold him in place, and it’s seemingly all he needs to let the tension melt away and kiss Wooyoung back properly, eyes fluttering shut. 

He whimpers into the kiss - his first kiss - one that tastes of wine and fruit and Wooyoung Wooyoung Wooyoung. Curse the human for being so pretty and bratty and wearing his heart on his sleeve. Their lips move with slight franticness, the novelty of the feeling agitating them both to paw at each others’ shoulders and arms for leverage. Wooyoung makes these delightful little sounds, as if he’s murmuring Hongjoong’s name over and over again whenever they take a breather in between kisses. 

Suddenly, one of Mingi’s hands comes up to stroke around Hongjoong’s ears, fingers tenderly touching the orange fur and hair that fluffs up now that he’s been washing it regularly. 

Hongjoong’s eyes roll back at the sensation, pleasant and intense like an electric shock pulsing through him. He momentarily breaks away from Wooyoung’s kiss, blushing and furious. At his look, Mingi only chuckles and keeps petting him slowly, “I know a thing or two about night creatures like you,” he says quietly. 

He leans in, and kisses Hongjoong too. 

Their lips meet again and again, coating each others’ mouths with drool while Wooyoung stares at them with one palm over his mouth, eyes bewildered and bulging. “You guys look really hot like that…” he notes, at one point. 

“Wooyoung - mff!” Hongjoong tries to grumble and pout, but Mingi doesn’t let him. He takes hold of Hongjoongs hands and pins them against the couch, immobilizing him and attacking his mouth with kisses again. His tail swishes near Mingi’s body, wrapping around his waist so the vampire can’t get away, both of them holding onto each other with possessiveness and want. 

Wooyoung interprets this as a beckoning call. He leans closer, nuzzling Hongjoong’s neck and pressing kisses across the prominent veins there. Mingi copies him instantly, letting go of the other’s mouth and scraping his fangs on the skin. 

Hongjoong yelps at how sharp they feel, how close he is to actually breaking the skin as Mingi hovers his mouth over it. He’s panting, drool collecting on the alabaster teeth, like a snake ready to pounce with venom. 

“Yah,” Wooyoung hiccups drunkenly, “Don’t bite him.” 

“Won’t bite him…” Mingi murmurs, as if he’s trying to convince himself, “Won’t bite him.” 

“I’m not just a piece of meat,” Hongjoong says tauntingly, eyes heavy with desire, tail swishing back and forth in interest, “How long has it been ever since you used these properly?” The wine must be really getting to him, because he daringly reaches up with one hand to prod and push the pads of his fingers on Mingi’s fangs while his mouth is still open. 

“The vampires do it to each other sometimes,” Wooyoung giggles, “And Seonghwa told me Jongho did it to him once… or twice… I asked Yeosangie to do it but he just threw a pillow at me… Yah, don’t hoard him all to yourself, you big bat.” 

Wooyoung kisses Hongjoong again, straddling his lap and claiming his lips possessively, like he’s trying to prove a point. He’s a weird human, Hongjoong thinks. So daring and fearless, yet whiny and childish at times. He doesn’t shy away from Hongjoong no matter how many times the night creature has chided him or pushed him away, he keeps coming back like he wants to prove himself, like Hongjoong is something worth fighting for. 

“Wh-” he moans when Wooyoung starts humping his leg, feeling his cock hardening through his jeans. One of the human’s hands slips under his pants, palm pressing against the head that’s been leaking for a while now, “Wooyoung-” 

Mingi brings a hand down his pants as well, joining the human in fondling him - his big palm takes up so much space there, makes him feel so small and malleable all at once. His other hand reaches to his tail, fingers rubbing around the base and stroking gently. 

Hongjoong cries out, thrashing his body around at the sudden influx of overwhelming sensations that render him unable to think of anything else other than pleasure. It feels so good, he wants to cry out, but Wooyoung only kisses him deeper, like he wants to steal every last breath that might escape him. Both of his legs kick and move against the carpet in an attempt to relieve some of the overstimulating tension, bouncing Wooyoung on his lap until the human pulls away to whimper his name again and again. The three of them move towards each other messily, like magnets, pushing their bodies together and letting out whimpering breaths and low groans. The possibility of someone walking in on them in this living room is quite high; but the thought of doing anything else other than this doesn’t even cross their minds, too caught up in the hazy, wine-induced desire that wraps around them like a cloud. 

“I-” Hongjoong cries out when he feels pressure building up in his insides. “Ah-” Wooyoung reaches up to play with his ears with his unoccupied hand while he fists his cock with the other, stroking it clumsily and fast enough to bring Hongjoong to the edge. Just before Hongjoong feels himself letting go, Mingi leans over his neck again and barely scrapes his teeth over the skin, digging the points of his fangs just enough to leave a mark for a few hours. It doesn’t matter, however, because Hongjoong moans loudly, tears escaping his eyes as he orgasms, cock spurting between Wooyoung’s callous fingers. 

“He looks so pretty…” he hears Wooyoung murmur as his eyes flutter shut, before he allows his body to succumb to the darkness. 

☾

“That feels nice…” Wooyoung mumbles as Hongjoong drags his claws gently over his back while Mingi snores next to them, keeping them awake for the time being before exhaustion completely takes over them as well. The sun is just starting to rise, but in the last few days their schedules have synced with Mingi’s vampiric nature - it might have to do with the fact that they spend most of their time with each other. “I appreciate not being wounded by your murderous claws.” 

“Keep being a brat and I’ll reconsider,” Hongjoong whispers in a sweet, saccharine tone, tail swishing back and forth playfully. Then, he leans in to take a look at Wooyoung’s arm - it’s mostly healed by now, pinkish red healed skin. He gets a pang in his chest. “I’m really sorry, Wooyoungie.” 

“You’re still worried about that?” Wooyoung whispers, reaching out to stroke behind Hongjoong’s fluffy ears. Birds begin to coo and sing outside. “Don’t be. Everything’s good. You have nothing to worry about. Let’s sleep now, mhm?” 

“Mhm.” 

☾

“What is this supposed to be?” 

“... A scary face.” 

“Huh,” Yeosang looks at the scribble Wooyoung made on his pumpkin, a mess of markers and pens that’s supposed to outline his pumpkin carving, “Let me fix that a bit.” 

“Be careful how you handle that knife,” Seonghwa tells Hongjoong, who’s begun stabbing into the pumpkin instead of slowly carving into it. 

“I could just use these, instead,” Hongjoong mentions, showing his hand and the protruding, sharp claws. 

“You could hurt yourself,” Mingi tells him. Silently, he gets up from his seat on the couch and settles on the floor behind Hongjoong, hugging his middle and reaching out to hold his hand in his and help him dig the knife carefully into the pumpkin, “Maybe your nails need a little trimming?” 

“Y-you think so?” 

“Seonghwa can cut them for you. You can paint them too, if you want,” he shows off his nail polish-covered pinky nail, “Like this.” 

“That looks nice…” 

Mingi leans in and kisses behind his ear tenderly. 

Hongjoong’s head is buzzing, heart thumping at being caged under Mingi’s broad body. The vampire isn’t particularly warm, but Hongjoong’s face feels like it’s on fire, like his tongue is tied and he can’t speak. He knows the others are looking at them. They haven’t asked any questions on the increased affections between the three of them, they haven’t questioned the intimacy Wooyoung and Mingi so blatantly show towards Hongjoong - a kiss on the cheek, a pet near the ears, a hug that lasts too long to be considered friendly. Hongjoong feels like he’s inside a kettle, boiling with the water, waiting for something to explode and bring normalcy back. This lovey-dovey fever dream is bound to meet its tragic end when Hongjoong heals completely and nothing ties him back to this house. 

The pumpkin ends up with a cartoonishly villainous face, jagged edges exaggerating the mouth and eyes. “It looks pretty cool, right? Let’s place them in the garden, we’ll light them up tonight.” 

Hongjoong offers to move the pumpkins to the backyard while Wooyoung and Seonghwa decorate the front of the house. In this moment of stillness, where he’s all alone, he sits down on the grass and places his hands on the cool outside of the pumpkin, closing his eyes. He hates to admit this; it causes his stomach to twist in ways that make him nauseous, but no matter how hard he denies it there’s already strings attaching him to this house and this weird, misfit band of roommates. The other day, Wooyoung affectionately called him a housecat. 

His leg has completely healed. His nose still carries faint bruises, but there’s no need for treatment anymore. His hair feels soft and smells nice after being washed so frequently. His skin, while still littered with scars and jagged shapes of healed, paler patches, feels softer and gentler. He’s gained weight, filling out Wooyoung’s clothes and nightwear that latched onto his body as if he was a hanger when he first arrived here. He feels healthier, cleaner, but weaker - the terrifying possibility of being bound to one place sometimes forces him to spend more in the bathroom, sitting over the toilet bowl ready to throw up. 

And then, Hongjoong looks up towards the trees that surround the backyard, eager to think about something else. 

There’s three men staring at him, watching him closely behind the bushes. 

He initially panics, because he’s outside while the sun has not set yet, fluffy ears and tail on full display. He’s never met the neighbors that the others live next to - but then, he realizes that the men’s faces aren’t all that unfamiliar. 

These are some of Slicer’s men.  

Hongjoong remains frozen like a deer in front of headlights, as if waiting for the car to crash into him and spare him from his impending doom. He’s seen and talked with these ruggedy humans before; they roam the underground, working for Slicer just like he used to for the past year. They accompanied him to the houses and building Slicer would ask them to steal from, but only he would be allowed to go in, since he was agile and small and sneaking through vents was his specialty. 

If Slicer’s men are here, staring at him expectantly through those bushes, then that means their boss sent them looking for him. 

He’s been gone for almost a month now, maybe even more. His sudden disappearance after what happened with those gang members Slicer had sent him to collect debt from must have caused a ruckus underground - he’s been gone for too long, his boss has decided. 

Hongjoong is bound to no master. Still, Slicer wouldn’t send his most burly men if he just wanted to talk. 

He can’t let anyone from the underground find out who lives in this house, humans and non-humans alike. His heart beats fast, pounding in his ears loudly like a drum, alarm bells going off telling him he needs to get out, he needs to get away, he needs to run and distract them so that Wooyoung and Mingi and everyone else don’t become a target and get hurt because of him. 

The men step out of the bushes, approaching the picket fence of the yard slowly. They know he can outrun them, so they beckon him to come closer with a composed, wary look in their eyes. 

He gives a fleeting, quick look to the house. 

And then he starts running. 

☾

He finds himself in the murky underground just a little before sunset. 

His body is bruised and battered from jumping over fences and slipping through vents, patches of fur missing from his tail when it momentarily got caught between two metallic rods. Pausing even momentarily is not an option - he needs to stray Slicer’s men away from the house. And then, he needs to eventually find his ex boss and settle whatever grievances he holds against him once and for all. 

Maybe he’ll work for him again - Hongjoong doubts the others will accept him back now that he’s run away. He didn’t even get to say goodbye to them, what a fucking shame, he thinks. It had been too good to be true, in the end. A small, evil part of him continuously gnawed at his chest, always knowing he’d have to go back to the underground. 

He catches his reflection in a small pool of sewer water on the ground. When his mirror image tears up, he looks away and starts running again. 

He stays away from the dimly lit tunnels, navigating his way through the nebulous corners of the sewer canals until he reaches the territory near where he used to live. He hides from passing humans and night creatures, holding his breath in between the walls and keeping his tail stuck to his back so that none of them can sense his movement. When it’s clear again, he ventures out, keeping his head low and his hands in the pockets of his pants, his footfalls totally silent in the stillness of the area. In the distance, water drips torturously slow on the ground, a trilling, quiet sound that resembles a ticking clock. 

“Hongjoongie…” 

Hongjoong jumps at the sudden whisper that tickles his ear, keeping a hand in front of his mouth so that his yelp doesn’t echo in the tunnel.  He turns around, bewildered and terrified - and there stands Wooyoung, his hoodie covering his hair, clothes covered in mud and dirt. 

“Wha- what are you doing here? Wooyoung, you shouldn’t be here! How did you even-” 

Wooyoung rests his palms on his knees, panting for breath, “I, hah, I followed you here… realized, hah, you were gone, and I thought, hah, thought something was wrong… finally caught up with you, hah… near the station…” 

“You followed me all the way here?” Hongjoong whispers in disbelief. Wooyoung’s hair is sticking to his face, sweat accumulating around his cheeks and nose. “Are you insane, you could have gotten hurt-” 

“Why did you run away?” Wooyoung’s voice breaks. He looks at Hongjoong expectantly, like the sad puppy of an owner who didn’t come home in time for a walk, “W-why did you leave so abruptly, what’s going on? Are you leaving forever?” 

Hongjoong looks away in shame. “Wooyoung, you can’t be here, you’ll get hurt, you need to go back okay?” 

“No!” Wooyoung protests. “I’m not leaving you alone, why did you run away?” 

“I didn’t-” he tries to lie, “It’s- Wooyoungie, maybe it’s better if I go back-” 

“But why?! I-is it something I said? Did we do something wrong? You didn’t even say goodbye…” Oh fuck, he’s tearing up, Hongjoong wants to crawl into a hole and die.  

“You didn’t, promise you Wooyoungie… It’s-it’s complicated, but the more you stay here the more danger you’re in, please, just, go home-” 

“I’m not going without you,” Wooyoung cries, reaching out to hold Hongjoong’s hand. Hongjoong takes it, because how could he not, when Wooyoung’s touch feels like warm sunlight and the closest thing he’s ever known to love. “I can’t let you get hurt, like Yeosangie, like-” 

“I’m not like Yeosang,” Hongjoong says, “I’ve lived here my entire life, I can protect myself, ‘m not weak. There’s some unresolved business I need to take care of, but the more you stay here the more danger you’re getting yourself into.” Night creatures, malevolent humans, whatever darkness lives in the walls of the city and occasionally wails into the night. If something happens to Wooyoung… 

This was the reason he left so hurriedly in the first place. 

And now, he’s stuck underground, with a sobbing Wooyoung by his side. 

The human suddenly hisses in pain. Wordlessly, Hongjoong stares as Wooyoung rolls his pant leg up, exposing a deep wound near his ankle. It looks nasty and recent. 

“I-it’s a good thing you stopped running…” Wooyoung laughs, sniffling, “I don’t think I can run anymore…” 

Hongjoong wants to grab him by his shoulders and shake him, violently and affectionately. 

“Wooyoung! We-we need to get you home, need to get Seonghwa to help you out… Why did you come all this way?” he hides his face in his palms, sighing in exasperation. 

“You’re worth it, Hongjoongie…” 

“Wooyoung-” 

“There he is!”  

At the sound of the new voice, Hongjoong plasters his body in front of Wooyoung, tail raised high and still, back crouched. He keeps his arms close to his body, ready to use his claws appropriately if Slicer moves even an inch closer to them. 

The man, clad in dark clothing and surrounded by burly men as he always is, regards the two of them with a slight chagrin on his lips. He’s not the most violent person Hongjoong has ever worked for in his life, but he’s one of the most persistent ones. It’s the reason Hongjoong kept working for him again and again for a year - the man always found a way to pressure him into getting involved into another messy situation, from chasing indebted scum to pay back what they owe his boss. He’s a persistent man, shrouded in darkness and nefarious tellings when it comes to his past. No one becomes this powerful underground without stepping on others. 

“Hongjoong,” when the night creature doesn’t answer, Slicer sighs, as if he’s talking to a petulant child, “You shouldn’t have strung a human along here with us.” 

“What do you want?” Hongjoong asks, clenching his jaw. He feels Wooyoung’s body tremble, stuck to him for protection. “Why did you send your men after me?” 

A low chuckle. “I didn’t take you for being so clueless. You think I wouldn’t be concerned when you decided to vanish into the night for an entire month? I’ve sent them looking all over for you. I expected you to come back last night with the money those bastards owed me. Instead, you stole it and took off.” 

“I didn’t fucking steal it,” Hongjoong hisses. 

“They said you ran off with it,” he continues in an infuriatingly calm tone, “Climbed a building and everything - quite an elaborate story.” 

“I didn’t steal your money,” Hongjoong insists, claws digging into his palms, “Why the fuck would you trust them over me? Why would I ever steal from you?” 

“Too much talk is never a good sign,” the man tells him, “I gave you a job and you left it unfinished. I never got my money back, you see, and now this debt falls on you.” 

“I don’t owe anyone anything. They were the ones who-” 

“The details of the story are of little importance to me, Hongjoong. I need my money back. I’m getting it either way, whether you decide to cooperate or not.” 

“The fuck does that mean?” Hongjoong scowls, but then, a nauseating feeling of realization plunges into him like a knife. “No… you…” 

Slicer looks at him indifferently, saying nothing. 

“You’re gonna hand me off, aren’t you?” Hongjoong lets out a tragic chuckle, heart racing as Wooyoung holds onto his shirt like a little kid, “That’s how you get your buck in the end, right? You’re gonna snitch on me to the authorities? Hand me to some experimental facility for a reward? You sick bastard!” 

“You made your bed and now you have to lie in it, Hongjoong-ah.” 

He nods at the men surrounding him, urging them to approach him. 

“No!” Wooyoung cries out, holding onto Hongjoong’s waist, “No!” 

Hongjoong’s knees are ready to give out - they’re surrounded, Wooyoung is wounded and unable to run, and he’s ready to be given away like an object, like he’s something lesser of a human, something to be bartered and bargained for. Deep inside, in the darkest parts of his nightmares, he was always terrified of something like this happening. It looks like his time has finally come. 

“Who’s there?” someone from Slicer’s group calls, staring with confusion in the distance. “Show yourself!” 

A dark mist spreads across the tunnel. It feels thick and suffocating, a nebulous miasma that surrounds them like poisonous fog. The smell of burnt wood and blood hangs heavy in the air, penetrating every orifice and covering every surface with its intoxicating grime. Through the smog, a pair of shining, disembodied red eyes stare back at them. 

“What the fuck is that…” someone whispers. 

“Wooyoung…” Hongjoong whispers in the human’s ear. “This is our chance. Listen to me. This is our chance, let’s sneak away right now-” 

But the human is frozen, wide teary eyes staring at the mist as if he can’t look away. His face is filled with horror, an emotion so powerful it renders him incapable of speaking or moving. Hongjoong isn’t unaccustomed to seeing his own share of horrors in the underground - this one, however, is a sign he’s never had the misfortune of seeing. 

“Wooyoungie…” 

And then, out of the darkness, the red eyes take the form, of a broad, tall body and silver white hair like the moon. 

“Mingi…” Hongjoong gasps, holding onto Wooyoung tightly. 

The vampire has a prominent scowl on his face, large fangs poking out of his mouth like an animal. One moment he’s in front of them, angry and seething while the mist wraps around him like a protective coat, and the next he materializes behind them, arm wrapped around Slicer’s neck. His mouth is open to expose lines of murderous teeth, eyes bloodshot and deadly. 

“Mingi!” Wooyoung cries out. 

When the men realize that their boss has been captured, they draw their handmade weapons - knives, hammers, knuckle daggers - pointing them at Mingi, who looks unfazed by their threats. 

“Move one step closer, I dare you,” Mingi grunts, “I won’t hand him to you in one piece.” 

Slicer grunts in Mingi’s hold, attempting to escape. The vampire grabs both of his hands and holds them behind his back in one swift move, immobilizing him. The human lets a wail of pain out.

“Let the two of them go, and I’ll spare you,” Mingi speaks slowly, “I promise, I won’t be kind. I’ll drain every single last one of you. Go on, don’t let me hold you back.” 

Slicer grunts, sweating under the threat of Mingi’s big fangs sinking into his neck and obliterating him in one bite. 

“Quickly,” Mingi hisses, “I’m a very impatient man. Don’t think of doing anything stupid, I’ll snap you in half like a twig before you get to say goodbye to the rats that follow you around.” 

“L-let them go…” the man grunts out. His men try to protest, but the desperate, bewildered look he gives them is enough for them to step away, allowing Hongjoong to walk away towards Mingi with a limping Wooyoung holding onto him. “Scram, quickly! Before this freak gets his teeth on me!” 

“There we go,” Mingi chuckles darkly, cheeks pushing his eyes into crescents, “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He waits until Hongjoong and Wooyoung stand behind his broad figure, protected, before he releases Slicer from his hold, pushing him towards the crowd. 

“And don’t you dare try to contact the authorities on us. You know that no one likes a snitch here, right?”

 ☾

“Yah, Mingi-yah, that was so fucking cool!” 

“Well you’re certainly much more cheerful,” Hongjoong grunts, “You looked like you were ready to cry back there.” 

“Shut it, Hongjoongie…” Wooyoung pouts, “I’m injured, how dare you treat me like this?” he fake-cries, wiping unshed tears from his cheekbones. 

The two night creatures run quickly through back-alleys and dimly lit streets - Mingi holds an injured Wooyoung on his back, bouncing the human up and down as they make their way across the city. Escaping the sewers and the underground was easy enough without having to worry about anyone running after them, but that didn’t give them an excuse to slow down. They move carefully and silently so as to not garner attention from any passing citizens. It’s a good thing the streets are surprisingly empty tonight. The cold wind sings a quiet, gentle song as it passes next to their ears, taking with it feathers and branches from yard to yard. 

“How did you know where to find us?” Hongjoong asks. 

Mingi laughs, “I realized Wooyoung was missing, so I followed him.” 

“Hah, that’s what I did,” Wooyoung giggles weakly. 

“I couldn’t believe our little kitty had run away from home.” 

“Don’t call me a little kitty, you big bat.” 

“Yeah, but how did you know-” Wooyoung says. 

“Ah, you see… Sometimes, when Yeosang feels particularly uh… agitated, we go on runs together as I’ve told you. We’ve ventured into the underground a few times - he was petrified but he was the one who asked me to go with him. He wanted to get over his fear and trauma. I read about how that could help him so I agreed.” 

“You psychoanalyzed my vampire best friend and took him to the sewers without telling me?!”

“Well, when you put it like that…” 

“You’re a much more mysterious man than you look, Mingi-yah…” Hongjoong laughs. 

Just then, Wooyoung lets out a groan of pain. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, just - it hurts real bad, I’m sorry Mingi, it just hurts too much, even when you hold me up, it-” 

“We need to treat your wound,” Hongjoong murmurs worriedly. 

“Listen,” Wooyoung grunts out in pain again, “Right here, you see that two-story house with the rose bushes outside? One of my college friends lives there with his boyfriend, they’ll help us out-” 

“Wooyoungie-” Mingi tries to protest. 

“I need to sit and get my leg on a pillow right now,” Wooyoung demands petulantly, “Please, do this favor for me, my wonderful boyfriends-” 

“We’re your what?” Hongjoong asks. 

When they ring the doorbell, a man with a cat-like face and vibrant blue choppy hair greets them, holding a cup of steaming tea in his hand. 

“Wooyoungie! I didn’t expect you!” he calls excitedly to Wooyoung, who’s holding onto Mingi’s back, completely by-passing the vampire. “Oh no, what happened to your leg?” 

“Hi, Sannie…” Wooyoung giggles awkwardly, “I had a nasty fall… Is Yunho home? It’s too far of a walk home, and I can’t force Mingi to carry me around like this… I’ll call Jongho later to come pick us up with his car.” 

“Of course, don’t worry about it!” San says, letting them in. The house smells like freshly made bread, lit with candles that smell of lavender for a calm atmosphere. “Hi Mingi, nice to see you again! And you? I don’t think we’ve met before…” 

“Uh,” Hongjoong stutters, acutely aware of his pointy ears and long tail betraying his true nature, “Uh, I’m-” 

“Sannie, I hear we have guests!” Someone else, presumably Yunho, comes to the living-room. Hongjoong takes one look at him and then turns to Wooyoung, who’s already been deposited on the couch with a pillow under his injured leg, like he asked. 

“Wooyoungie, you should have mentioned that your friend’s boyfriend is a werewolf…” Hongjoong grumbles, “You almost gave me a heart attack.” 

“Ah,” Yunho giggles, fluffy tail wagging happily, “Hi, yeah, sorry. It’s a thing. Wooyoung only recently found out… I’m Yunho.” 

“I’m Hongjoong,” he smiles at the two new acquaintances. Their house feels warm, and their smiles feel safe. 

“Alright, let’s look at your leg, Wooyoungie. Sannie, care to treat our guests to some food and drinks? Some blood for Mingi-yah, too?” 

☾

Later, much later into the evening, when the three of them have been left alone in the living-room and San and Yunho occupy themselves with washing dishes and cups in the kitchen, Wooyoung’s eyes are lethargic and heavy - his wound has been disinfected, treated and wrapped with gauze. He settles his arms on his full tummy after a satisfactory meal, head resting on Hongjoong’s lap while the night creature plays with his hair. Mingi sits on the floor next to them, holding each one of their hands and smiling. 

“I’m sorry I ran away like that,” Hongjoong apologizes, his heart heavy, “I caused you guys so much trouble, I got you wounded running after me, I put you in danger…” 

“You didn’t,” Mingi assures him, “You reacted as any of us would, you did the best thing you could do under those circumstances. It’s okay, don’t feel bad.” 

“Hongjoongie…” Wooyoung whines, “You’re really silly sometimes, you know that? How could we ever leave you behind? You’re hurting my precious feelings…” 

“Your painkillers haven’t kicked in yet?” Hongjoong says sardonically. 

“No, they have not. Until then, I will be insufferable.” 

“Good,” Hongjoong leans in and kisses him. 

He smiles in the kiss in satisfaction when Wooyoung is caught off guard, a tiny yelp buried between their lips. Mingi leans in and noses Hongjoong and Wooyoung’s faces like a dog, as if he’s trying to get into the kiss himself. Hongjoong pulls away and lets Mingi kiss him, sighing when Wooyoung starts playing with his hair and the area around his ears - he should have never given them that information, now it’s going to keep being used against him! 

“You guys look very pretty when you kiss,” Wooyoung fawns over them, voice laced with sleep, “I’ve got very pretty boyfriends.” 

“Boyfriends…” Hongjoong murmurs, cheeks red like a tomato, as if he’s testing the word on his mouth. 

“If Wooyoung declares we’re boyfriends then I’m afraid we don’t have much of a say…” Mingi says, leaning in to kiss the human. “Guess you’re stuck with us now, Hongjoongie…” 

Hongjoong chuckles sleepily, “I’m really happy…” he finds himself saying. His body feels like it’s surrounded by fluffy clouds, heart thumping loudly in his chest not with fear or dread but with love and hope. 

“When morning comes, let’s go home, alright?” 

“Yeah, let’s go home,” Wooyoung agrees. 

“Our home,” Mingi smiles into Wooyoung’s lap.