Chapter Text
Somewhere in-between stepping inside the shady looking building tucked deep in a gloomy alleyway on the outskirts of the city and finding himself onstage in front of the hungry red eyes of dozens of strangers, Seokjin realizes that he might have made a few mistakes.
Mistake one was trusting the glossy flyer he'd found hanging on the edge of the hospital whiteboard that had seemed too good to be true:
Blood Donors Wanted! Earn Up to ₩1M For Your Donation! No Experience Required!
The words were handwritten in an elegant script, the paper itself the odd one out amongst the other crispy formal notices of funding drives and staff transferals. The address listed on it was also unusual- not a floor or room in the hospital but somewhere on the far side of the city Seokjin had never even heard of before. And the donation times were stranger still: Sundown to Sunrise. All in all definitely a suspicious combination, and one that if he'd been thinking more clearly Seokjin should have ignored entirely.
But Seokjin hadn't been thinking clearly- especially not today when the envelope from the collection agency had slipped under his door, its angry red lettering reminding him that he needed money now. So yes, the flyer might be weird. But businesses usually screened what was allowed on these kinds of noticeboards, right? It was probably just a unique way to catch people's attention, and maybe the donation center was just in a different location for zoning reasons or something. Maybe they only accepted donations at night because of staff scheduling, or maybe blood was easier to drain then. Who knows? He never claimed to be an expert in medical science.
Mistake two was not telling anyone where he was going tonight. In fact, he'd actually lied when Taehyung asked if he had any plans, muttering something about having a quiet night at home before quickly changing the subject. He doesn't like lying to Taehyung, but Seokjin knows that if he told the younger the truth of where he was going his brother would put the dots together right away. And if he did, he'd realize that they were in much worse financial straits than Seokjin kept making them out to be and put the blame on himself. Seokjin can't have that, can't bear to see his little brother look so sad and guilty when he's already suffering so much, and so he doesn't share his new money making venture.
Mistake three was not listening to the niggling little feeling in his gut that told him the ominous alley he had come down was suspicious, as was the fact that the building the address had led to had no sign or nameplate or any sort of reputable looking identification, and the way that the man who had answered the door when he'd knocked looked less like a medical professional and more like a butler at a macabre gentleman's club in his finely cut suit jacket with blooded accents. The man hadn't even asked Seokjin's name or for any identification, simply waved him in with a bored look as though Seokjin wasn't even worth a greeting. That should have been a warning bell, and his nerves had been trying to tell him this was bad news. But Seokjin had just pushed down that doubt in the name of easy money, entering without a second thought into the shadowy interior.
Everything after crossing the threshold is a total blur, but Seokjin is pretty certain he'd been put under some kind of drug. At least that's what it feels like as he blinks blearily, trying to clear the dizziness from his head and the blurriness from his eyes. His limbs feel weak and boneless and there's a sharp point of pain in his neck as though he's been stabbed with a large needle. Does that mean that they did take his blood after all? But wait, don't they usually get it from the arm?
As Seokjin finally regains his sight, he can see that he's definitely not in any kind of operating room or donation center either. He's on what appears to be some kind of stage, a blinding spotlight shining on him that makes the audience even darker in comparison. He tries to look out into it, but it's too hard to see anything but the vague outline of shapes in the darkness and what appear to be dozens of pairs of glowing red dots. Hold on, are those...eyes? Are they some sort of newfangled contacts?
Seokjin tries to step forward and finds that he can't. He's not tied to anything, his wrists aren't bound and his feet aren't shackled. For all intents and purposes he's simply standing on the stage, but his body just won't move- he tries with all his might to lift his arms or legs, but yet he remains completely still. He can't even twist his head or twitch his fingers- it's like he's been completely paralyzed. Seokjin tries to speak, to yell for help, but his mouth won't open. This more than anything makes Seokjin start to panic. Where the hell is he, and what on earth have they done to him?
Through his increasing panic Seokjin registers that someone is speaking, a voice echoing loudly through the space around them. Desperate to figure out what's going on, he tries to clear his still swimming head and listen.
"-our last selection for you tonight is a fresh local vintage, matured for three decades. It is completely untasted save for a small quality sample."
Fresh vintage? Tasting sample?
"But don't be fooled by its untested nature, ladies and gentlemen, for let me assure you- our sommeliers have informed me that it is unlike anything they've had before in their long experience!"
Wait, sommeliers? Aren't they people who judge wines? Why are they talking about wines while they've got him frozen up onstage like a bizarre piece of performance art? Seokjin has never been to a wine auction-is this how the 1% do things these days?
"From the very first sip the unusual flavor of the vintage will shock your senses, followed by a mix of fragrant floral notes spiked with just the perfect touch of earthiness. It ends with a perfectly unique and satisfying finish that lingers delightfully on the tongue. In fact it is so addicting, I daresay you may choose to finish the entire thing in one sitting!"
As the voice continues to espouse the qualities of the wine, Seokjin continues his attempts to break free from whatever force is holding him in place. To his frustration they remain just as fruitless as before. His body simply refuses to obey his will, no matter how hard he tries. With an internal sigh, he resigns himself to waiting.
Maybe once whatever this auction is is over, they'll take me down from here and I can try to move again.
"Now ladies and gentlemen, let us begin. The bids will start at one million won. Who will be our first taker?"
Seokjin expects to hear cries of bids, but the room remains silent other than a faint rustling. When he flicks his eyes toward the crowd, he can just barely make out rounded shapes being held in the air. He can't read what's written on them in the darkness but the auctioneer must not share the same problem because he begins to call out in response to them.
"I see one million, do I see five? Yes, five! Ten? Ten million! Ladies and gentlemen, don't let the chance to have this for yourself pass you by! Ten, ten, I see twenty, thirty-"
The numbers continue to rise higher and higher. Whatever this wine is, it seems the crowd is eager to taste it. When the bids reach half a billion without any sign of stopping, Seokjin realizes he must be in the company of some seriously wealthy people. But why is he here? Is this really what wealthy people do for fun? Lure the poor in with false promises and make them watch while they spend obscene amounts that Seokjin will never see even in his dreams?
"Seven hundred and fifty million won, ladies and gentlemen, do I see any higher? No? Going once, going twice...sold! Thank you all, that concludes our festivities for the evening. For those of you that have made purchases, they will be brought to you in the vestibule or you may arrange for delivery. We hope to see you next time."
The spotlight illuminating Seokjin suddenly fades, and he can hear the rustling and chatter of the people around him as they start to stand and exit the theatre. He doesn't have time to do anything else because suddenly his body is moving without his input towards the back of the stage. He has no control over his motions, one foot in front of the other like a puppet on a string. As his legs carry him behind the thick velvet curtains, Seokjin sees that there's a line of other people already waiting there- men and women in casual clothing like him who look equally out of place in this extravagant atmosphere. They all stand stiffly next to one another and none of them look or speak to him at all as he moves unwillingly next to them. They must be under the same crazy drugs as Seokjin is.
A door opens to the side and a group of well-dressed men enter the area. With their slicked hair, tailored suits, and pristine white gloves, they look like waiters at an upscale restaurant. Last to enter is an older looking man in equally fancy clothes. He must be the leader of the group, because he starts to direct the others with sharp efficiency.
"Take the cheap ones out last, we don't want to keep our high paying guests waiting. The Ahns want theirs delivered to their home. And bring that one-" he motions to Seokjin, "to the young master's box as usual. And be quick about it!"
Young Master? Seokjin wonders. But he has no time (or ability) to protest before one of the men steps forward and Seokjin's body once again moves without his will to follow him. They make their way through the backstage and up a winding spiral staircase until reaching a long corridor dotted with doors. The man leading him proceeds directly to the last one at the end of the hall, knocking on it gently.
"Sir, your purchase has arrived."
Purchase-?
Then the door opens on its own, and Seokjin's body moves inside whether he'd like to or not. (He does not.)
Everything that's happened since he first crossed the threshold of this place earlier tonight has been completely unhinged, so Seokjin has no idea what to expect waiting for him as the door snaps shut behind him. Even so, the sight waiting for him is still a surprise- after all, it's not everyday you stumble upon the most beautiful man you've ever seen in your life.
He's lounging casually with his legs splayed out over the edge of the plush velvet sofa like something out of one of Seokjin's most shameful fantasies. The buttons of his silk shirt are undone at the top to reveal the perfectly smooth skin of his broad chest underneath, and the white of the shirt stands out even more against the dark leather that hugs his lower body almost obscenely, the tight fit leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. There's an elegant silver cuff around his wrist that matches the row of hoops in his ear, while the other is dotted with studs all the way up the shell. His jet black hair is wavy and tousled, like it's just been run through with amorous hands. But strangely despite his muscled frame and heavy jewelry, there's a softness to the man's face that seems even more pronounced when placed in contrast with the rest of his appearance. His cheeks are slightly rounded and his lips plump and inviting, giving his already youthful face a sense of innocence. But that innocence is quickly erased when his eyes flick upwards to meet Seokjin's, and Seokjin realizes with a start that they're the color of blood.
The beautiful young man doesn't move from his spot as his strange eyes rake across Seokjin's body, though his mouth twists into a cruel smirk.
"Well, I really hope you taste better than you look."
"I-huh?" Seokjin is so thrown by both the man's comment and the rudeness of it that he doesn't even realize at first that he has control of his voice again.
"I mean, when I'm paying so much the least they could do when they pluck urchins like you off the street is clean you up a bit first, don't you think?"
"You- you rude little brat!" Seokjin sputters. "Is this how you talk to your elders?"
For a moment the man looks shocked, his eyes widening. But then he laughs, throwing his head back as if Seokjin has just told a great joke. Seokjin notices as he does that his teeth are unnaturally sharp- is he one of those weirdos who gets cosmetic surgery to look like monsters or whatever?
"I could say the same thing to you," the stranger replies, still looking highly amused.
Seokjin balks. This boy can't be older than his mid-twenties, and he's talking smack with that baby face of his? He raises an accusatory finger, then finally comes to the realization that he can move on his own again. There's a split second where neither of them do anything, then Seokjin turns and bolts for the door- only to be stopped in his tracks by the young man's taunting voice.
"Even if you run, do you really think you'll make it outside alive?"
Seokjin freezes with his hand on the knob. "What?"
"I paid a lot of money for you. Too much, probably. But that still wouldn't stop everyone else from trying to get a taste of their own if they saw the opportunity."
A chill runs down Seokjin's spine at the words and the way they're said so casually. "Get a taste? What are you talking about?"
The stranger sighs. "So you're scruffy and slow? They really swindled me tonight..." He sits up and crosses his legs, fixing Seokjin with a patronizing smile. "What exactly do you think happened here?"
Seokjin turns to face him again with a glare. "I was lied to, knocked out, drugged, and then put on display as a weird art piece during some insane wine auction for rich sadists."
The other man chuckles. "Well you're not that far off...except that you aren't an art piece. You're the wine."
Seokjin's mouth is agape as the words run through his head. "The...wine? How can I be the wine? Is that like a metaphor or something?"
"If we're being pedantic, you're actually the bottle. Your blood is the wine." He smiles wide, all teeth. "Which makes me..."
"Insane. You're all insane. Is this some kind of trip? Are you all high on something too?"
It happens too quickly for Seokjin to follow. One second the stranger is sitting on the couch, completely still. Then suddenly he's right in front of him, his body so close into Seokjin's space that they're barely a breath apart. Everything about him sets off warnings in Seokjin's senses. His skin is too smooth, his features too symmetrical. As pressed together as they are, Seokjin should be able to feel the heat from his chest, and yet there's nothing but coldness. And his eyes, glimmering like rubies in the low lights...there's absolutely no way that those are contacts.
"What...what are you?"
"Aish, I've never met a human so thickheaded,” the other replies, looking equally entertained and exasperated. "You're really going to make me say it?"
When Seokjin doesn't reply he leans even closer to whisper into his ear, his voice light as a feather and yet piercing to the core.
"I'm a vampire."
Seokjin doesn't move as the other pulls back to study his reaction. The proper response to such a declaration should be fear, right? Even if this person is lying (and Seokjin is unfortunately starting to believe he isn't) he's still in the presence of a dangerous lunatic. Seokjin really should be feeling scared. But something about the shit-eating grin on the face of the other man-vampire?-is making him more annoyed than anything else. He scowls.
"You're a vampire."
The stranger shrugs. "Vampire, kindred, coldblood, leech...whatever nickname you want to use."
"And everyone else here is too?"
"Mhm, mostly. Couple ghouls keeping the place running and doing the grunt work, and I think there might be a specter or two that pop in occasionally. But the clientele? All vampires."
Seokjin's scowl deepens at the casual tone. "So you're telling me that this place is some kind of liquor store for bloodsuckers?"
"Bit more upscale than that, but yeah," the vampire replies easily, flopping back down onto the couch. Seokjin stays where he is, part of him still not willing to accept that everything he's just been told is true.
"But...why? I thought vampires were supposed to creep into people's homes at night or lure them into dark alleys."
"Well, sure," the vampire grins, "but humans are grimy and smelly and such a hassle to deal with. When you're loaded, why bother getting your hands dirty when you can have all the hard work done for you?"
"So even in the realm of the undead everyone's stuck catering to the whims of a bunch of plutocrats?" Seokjin groans, putting a hand to his forehead. "Fucking capitalism."
The vampire giggles, fixing him with a curious gaze. "You're a lot different from the humans I usually get here."
Seokjin raises a brow. "In what way?"
"Well, most of them are too scared of me to even speak, let alone get feisty and crack jokes."
"Do you act differently around them than you are now? Because all I've seen is a rich brat with entitlement issues and a lack of respect for personal space."
"See?" the vampire exclaims, pointing at him. "That's what I'm talking about! You should be crying on your knees begging for my mercy, not throwing insults. I could kill you in like, two seconds flat you know."
"Well if I'm going to die anyway, I might as well get a few shots in," Seokjin argues. He doesn't know where this recklessness is coming from, but it's way too late to back down now.
But the other merely looks confused by Seokjin's declaration. "What makes you think you're going to die?"
"Uh, you? Five minutes ago you said that if I tried to escape I wouldn't even make it out of the building."
"True...but you're not gonna do that, are you?"
That sly smile is back on the vampire's face, and Seokjin doesn't like it one bit. "What do you mean?"
"What did they promise you when they lured you here? Money?"
"I-yes?" Seokjin replies, caught off guard by the question.
"How much?"
"A million won..."
"Pft, that's all? But I bet you didn't just need it for fun. You were desperate, right?"
At the reminder, Seokjin suddenly thinks of his brother. Oh god-if he dies here, what will happen to Taehyung? Why didn't he tell anyone where he was going? But the next words out of the stranger's mouth stop Seokjin's panicked thoughts in their tracks.
"What if I told you that you'd never have to worry about that ever again?"
"Meaning...?" Seokjin asks, looking at him with suspicious eyes.
"Meaning that this-" the vampire toys absently with one of the rings on his long fingers, "is worth more than you've probably ever seen in your life. I've got more money than I know what to do with, and some of it could be yours. If you give me something in return, that is..."
"Are you...are you propositioning me?" Seokjin asks with astonishment. The vampire snorts, rolling his eyes.
"Please. You're not that good looking."
"So you do think that I'm good looking though?"
"That's not-" for a moment the young man loses his air of smug superiority. In fact, he looks slightly flustered. But he covers it quickly, scowling instead. "Do you want to hear my deal or not?"
"Fine. Spill."
"Become my personal vine, and in return I'll give you as much money as your greedy human heart desires."
"Vine?" What is with these people and their obsession with winemaking terminology? "You mean, you want to drink my blood more than once?"
"That's the idea."
"But...why?"
"Do you know how tedious it is to get fresh prey all the time?" The vampire sighs exaggeratedly. "I've got better things to do than hunt on my own or come here every week, and considering what I paid, I think I should get at least a couple uses out of you. I get blood, you get cash. We both win."
Seokjin crosses his arms. "That seems like a big deal to make when you don't even know if my blood is any good. What if I taste bad?"
Without warning the vampire is right in front of Seokjin again, his red eyes shining with excitement. "Great question; better get a sample first before I commit."
"Woah, hey, wait!" Seokjin yelps, frantically pinwheeling backward into the wall. "I never agreed to anything!"
But the other just crowds forward into him. "Oh come on, it's just a sip. Don't be a coward."
"Excuse me if I'm not totally keen on getting my throat ripped into by a complete stranger!"
The vampire rolls his eyes, then steps back and holds out his hand. Seokjin stares at it, nonplussed.
"What...?"
"Take my hand."
"Wh-"
Before he can finish, the other grabs Seokjin's and shakes it.
"Jungkook, Virgo, blood type O. There, good enough?"
Seokjin just watches blankly as the vampire-Jungkook?-drops their joined hands and looks expectantly at him. Jungkook huffs.
"Do they not teach manners anymore in modern society?"
As if you're one to talk! "...Seokjin. Sagittarius. Type-wait, why did you give your blood type if you don't have your own blood anymore?"
"It's not my type, it's my preference." Jungkook swipes his tongue across his fangs. "So, what are you?"
Seokjin swallows thickly. ".....O."
"Perfect," Jungkook hums, then suddenly grabs Seokjin's waist, tugging him so that their bodies are flush against one another as he leans down to press his lips against the human's neck.
"Smell good," he murmurs, the deep rasp of his voice making chills run down Seokjin's spine. "I can make you feel good too. Just say yes."
"I..."
"Say yes, Seokjin. You know you want to."
Seokjin truly isn't sure why he says it. Morbid curiosity? Pheromones? All he knows is that as soon as the word leaves his mouth Jungkook's teeth are piercing his flesh. The sharp sting makes Seokjin recoil on instinct, but the vampire's grip on him only tightens, locking them in a macabre embrace as he pulls out his fangs and begins to suck at the wound he's just created.
It's like flipping a switch-the pain is instantly erased, replaced by a euphoria he's never felt before. It's like every nerve in his body has been set alight with sparks, the energy coursing through his blood like a thunderbolt. He feels like he could do anything- scale a mountain, dive the ocean, probably even fly.
He doesn't know how much time has passed- it could just as easily be an hour or a minute. But when Jungkook does finally pull away Seokjin is mortified to hear himself whine in disappointment, his hands reaching out almost unconsciously to try and pull the vampire toward him, to bring him back, to make him feel like that again.
The immortal's eyes are blazing now, the red in them pulsing like a heartbeat as Jungkook looks at him. He slowly swipes his tongue across his bloodied lips before they curl into a pleased smirk.
"Delicious."