Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The bar that was Jungkook’s comfort, his liquid courage in his strenuous life, the one place he felt content ultimately proved to also be his downfall. 

He hadn’t intended for it to happen. The same broke college student, frequenting to the same bar to spend his little pennies, to inject hot courage into his tired bloodstream. It had been a routine, a habit, so much so that the bartenders would recognize him with a smile. 

However, Jungkook hadn’t intended to make friends there. Maybe a curt nod to the other regulars, but he wasn’t there to talk. 

Until the man in the black coat. 

Tall, and menacing, he had Jungkook shuddering back, eyes locked onto the bar counter as the stranger had sat next to him. Routine, routine, and just like that, the stranger had been there every Friday - leading to light words, casual conversations, the flash of dimples in his smile. Comfort. 

Jungkook had grown too comfortable with him. 

With Kim Namjoon. They were still strangers, simply passers in the night with the bare knowledge of each other's names but… well. Head leaning on the man’s shoulder as Jungkook had giggled, the brushing of hands, the soft crescendo of the man’s laughter. 

He’d grown too comfortable. 

And that comfort had turned to pain. 

Blooming, spiking pain that had engraved itself in his bones. 

Unknowingly, Jungkook had signed his future the moment he returned Kim Namjoon’s smile. 

----

It’s…. Quiet. Quiet and still as Jungkook floats on the edge of existence. He’s just…. Here. Just here and it’s so quiet that he can hear the click of his own bones, feel the slowing beat of his own heart. Boom, boom, reflecting in his ears, filling his skull enough to rattle him completely. 

He moves, just a little, raking his fingers through the soft. It’s like liquid, soft water running over his finger pads as his wrist rotates. Jungkook’s chest rises, falls slowly, his lips parting. It’s peaceful here. A little too silent, but it’s nice, nice, and restful, and he just wants to stay here forever. 

But… but it’s too silent. 

His mind can’t get past that, no matter how comfortable he is, no matter how gentle the hands of the unconscious tug at him. It’s just… silent. Silent, silent, silent. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow. He can feel them pulling to the center of his face, his skin wrinkling and no, no, he can feel too much. There’s something odd about it. About how he can actively feel the slow pump of blood through his veins, the thickness of it, how he can feel his teeth sigh in his gums and its-

Wrong. 

There’s something terribly, terribly wrong here. And once Jungkook’s mind grasps at those words, cradles them to his chest protectively - it comes true. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong. 

That peaceful floating, that tender embrace, a place between living and dying, flips entirely over. It’s not quiet anymore. There’s something in the distance, something rumbling, something dangerous. Jungkook flinches in on himself, trying desperately to force his eyes open. He needs to get up, he needs to move. But he can’t. He’s stuck, frozen as his heart beats in his mind, as his elbows chatter in their joints. 

It’s buzzing. Buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, loud and grating like gravel rubbing against metal, like nails on a chalkboard. It’s drowning him, forcing his mouth open and sliding down into his lungs. Suffocating. Jungkook tries to scream, tries to cry out for anything, anyone, but his heart pulsing in his eyes and everything- everything is moving and it’s-

Pain. 

It smacks into Jungkook like a truck, rattling his teeth. His chest won’t inflate anymore, he can’t breathe no matter how he gasps, how his chest retches. 

He’s- he’s fucking dying. It’s agonizing. 

Every single joint in his body is wriggling itself apart, hot coals sliding in between his skin and muscles, lodging themselves underneath his liver. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts and Jungkook screams out for help. For something, for anyone as his head throws back against his commands, as his fingers tighten into fists so hard he’s sure his bones are going to break and, and-

“ Shhhh. I know. I know.” 

A hand. It’s cool, refreshingly so as it slowly encases over his forehead, a thumb brushing over the pained furrow of his eyebrows. 

“ I know it hurts, baby, I’m sorry.” 

Jungkook whines. Fucking whines. A sound that bubbles from someone where unknown, its intention just as murky, but this person, this person whose hand is so, so soothing seems to understand. Because they hum in response, put a little more weight through their hands. 

Something soft, cotton, brushes against the left side of Jungkook’s throat. He bites at his tongue as he feels his sweat being wiped away, tracing down over his collarbones, down his chest. 

He’s… shirtless?

They’re dabbing gently at the right side of his throat, but it’s much more gentle, carefully moping around an area. And, drawn to his attention, Jungkook can now feel it. The uttermost raw feeling on that side of his throat. Raw and hot and it stings urgently against the still air. He whines again, teeth gritting, head tipping further away - trying to escape the soft wiping. 

“ I’m sorry, baby,” that voice says, and it’s like a wash of cool water. Jungkook revels in it, gasping dryly at the air, chin straining upward. “ It’s going to hurt for a while, I’m sorry. It’s part of the process.” 

A low whimper. 

“ I know. But I’m here. I’m here now.” 

He can feel the sweat pooling underneath him, can feel how it clings to his skin with greedy hands. His limbs are too heavy, glued to the surface below him, and Jungkook fucking hates it. He’s vulnerable, too vulnerable lying here, and he can feel the air on his bare chest and how the fuck did he get here where is he-

That hand. That hand is cupping his cheek now, soft and soothing, and suddenly Jungkook doesn’t remember what he was just thinking about. Something about being vulnerable, but that’s okay, because his mind is calm. He’s okay here. Nobody is going to hurt him, he’s safe. It’s okay to be vulnerable, it’s okay because he, because sire is here, and, sire, sire, sire, sire-

Sire?

What? 

His throat feels tight. Seizing quickly, tight and dry, and Jungkook’s back arches as he gasps, pained and urgent. His eyes are blazing with tears, gathering underneath his eyelids and he faintly feels that hand fall from his cheek. 

“ It’s okay, baby, your body is just telling me what you need. I’m going to help you up now, okay? Here we go.” 

Jungkook’s body is moving, and it’s not of his own will. It’s weird, extremely so, to just feel how his limbs fall limp, pliant, and slick with sweat. He lets out a little uncertain sound, head lolling loosely. There’s a hand on the side of his ribs, steadying him, an arm hooked gently over his shoulders to hold his back. Someone is grunting quietly, and then it dips. Whatever is underneath him, it dips a little with weight, one of Jungkook’s knees sliding with it. 

A… bed? Maybe? 

Whatever it is, it doesn’t really matter, not when Jungkook’s head is lolling again loosely, the person tugging him forward. It’s more than uncomfortable, the weight of his body being maneuvered so easily, so pliantly, and Jungkook fights the fear that has started boiling in the back of his throat. 

There’s no need for that. You’re fine, you’re safe. 

There’s the warmth of skin - and it’s warm this time - brushing against his bare legs. (Bare… legs?). The weight of a thigh, the warmth of a stomach pressing against his own. It takes his mind a moment to catch up, to once again fight past the blistering pain that is simmering in his bones. 

He’s… in someone’s lap? The further he sinks into his own body, the more he can feel - how he’s definitely sat in someone’s lap, knees messily pressing into hips, a knee bent up behind him to keep him steady. There’s a hand tender on his hip, thumb pressing into the bone there. 

“ I need you to try for me, okay? I know you’re not going to like this, I’m sorry.” 

If Jungkook could wrinkle his nose in confusion, he would. But there’s not enough time for that, because his weak senses are instantly being assaulted by a smell. A smell so wrong that it sears through his nostrils, and burns at the back of his throat. Jungkook weakly fights back a gag, lungs heaving. 

The other hand has appeared, is firmly planted on the nape of his neck, tugging him forward a little more. He falls with the pull uselessly, bare chest meeting more cool, bare skin. That hand is guiding him, turning his head a little, fingers firm and controlling. 

“ There we go. It’s right there, baby. Come on.” 

That smell, it’s so close, so strong that Jungkook’s eyes are watering, a tear leaking down his cheeks. He gives a pathetic whine, wanting so desperately to push himself back, away from his assaulting scent, but he can’t. Instead, his mouth is bumping against something cool - and moments later, something slick, wet. 

The hand on his hip moves, comes up to massage gently at his chin, urges his mouth open. 

“ This will make you feel better, I promise.” 

And the hand on his neck pushes again, tender and careful, and Jungkook’s mouth latches onto something. It’s instinctual, the way his teeth weakly clench into the thing, tighten around the… the… the what? 

It’s on his tongue. Jungkook squeaks, whines, and whimpers, trying to shake his head. Whatever is stinging at his nostrils is in his mouth now - he can taste iron, strong and potent, and what the fuck?! He wants to pull back, pull away, but that hand is still there on his neck. In fact, it’s moving upward a little, twisting into his hair to stroke him gently. 

“ Swallow it. Come on, honey.” 

Jungkook doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to, but that searing liquid is filling his mouth. He gives a sob, a useless sob, feels those fingers massage gently. 

There’s nothing more to do.

He swallows, throat bobbing. 

And it’s disgusting. Disgusting and sour and bitter and it’s everything disgusting in the world. Jungkook actively gags, lips popping off wetly as his body recoils. There’s something thick and cold trailing down from the corner of his mouth, spat out from his body, and he can feel it dripping down onto his chest. 

“ Oh, I know, baby. But you have to.” 

He’s being pushed back, mouth opened gently by fingers, forced back onto the vat of acid. Jungkook sobs again, tears trailing down his cheeks as he swallows uselessly again, gags, stomach tightening. His tongue is swelling in his mouth, his head is too full, too full as his throat bobs again, something burns with vomit and it’s-

Good. 

“There we go. Good boy.” 

Jungkook laps his tongue over the object once. Cool, smooth. Skin. He embraces the waiting hands of unconsciousness with thanks, thankful to slip away from the piercing pain. It’s easier here, easier when his whole body isn’t on fire, when his neck isn’t raw and exposed. 

It’s peaceful. 

----

Jungkook is running. He’s running and his lungs are already screaming at him, his calves are already seizing in a prickling pain. But he’s running, he’s running, he’s running. 

Damp grass is brushing against his heels, licking at his ankles as he sprints, sprints like a terrified animal, his chest heaving. It’s dark, pitch black as his hands fly urgently at his sides, as his breathing grates through his teeth. His head whips, looking behind him, hair slick with sweat, glued to his forehead. His eyes scan through the dark, terrified, urgent, desperate,  but he can see nothing, nothing as he sprints, as his stomach churns. 

Go, go, go. 

He smashes into the tree line. 

Jungkook can feel thorns, branches slashing through his skin as he rakes his hands through the undergrowth, panicked to his core. Something slashes at his face, and he can feel the sting of blood, but he doesn’t stop. 

Pushes forward with a terrified sob, one that shakes his entire figure and forces his aching body to move. He’s barely able to avoid smashing into trees, bruised toes tugging at roots as Jungkook bounces around. 

His hands meet trees and then air and he’s running and running, running until acid is searing at the back of his mouth, until his eyes are pulsing out of his head. 

He’s never tasted fear quite as vivid as this. Quite as toxic, searing at the back of his eye sockets. It’s something so foreign, so scary that it has his throat retching, his spine contorting in its skin prison. In a strange forest, here, he is prey. A feeble piece of prey running through the darkness, ears and eyes twitching as it looks for the chasing predator. They’re out there somewhere, waiting, watching. 

It doesn’t matter that Jungkook hadn’t seen anyone. Hadn’t heard but a faint voice when he’d burst out the front door and tumbled onto dampened grass. His mind, his heart, everything is telling him, screaming at him that they’re out there. Hunting him. 

He can’t stop. Jungkook can’t stop moving. He has to go, has to go! So he doesn’t, pushes his screaming body into another gear, and rakes his bleeding palms at his wet cheeks to clear his already failing vision. 

Grass turns to tarmac in a second and Jungkook is gasping, stumbling, spinning to the side as a sharp sound fills the air. His pupils widened as a light screeches closer. It’s blinding, burns at his pale skin, has him frozen solid. Like a deer in headlights, he curls his arms up over his head, whimpers in fear and- 

Metallic burning fills the air, the smell horrific. Jungkook peers through the gaps in his fingers, to sees the horrified face of the bus driver - she looks like she’s seen a ghost, mouth agape. Jungkook stares back at her for a moment. Silent, the night chirping around him. 

Go. 

He runs, jumping off the edge of the road, and disappears back into the dark woods, throat burning. 

----

Jungkook doesn’t know how he got home. All he remembers is pounding on his own door, throat tight, eyes wet, pounding and pounding and there was a voice - faint and questioning, and then he was inside, inside his apartment, alone, alone. 

But the room is still spinning. 

Still spinning from where Jungkook had thrown himself onto the floor, spread out like a starfish, chest rising and falling with a heavy, wheezing sound. 

He can’t get up. Everything hurts. Jungkook whimpers, slowly, slowly pushes himself onto his side, curling up in a tiny, tiny ball. Pressing his knees to his chest seems to make him feel a little better, calming the burning of his gums. 

The last hour, the last few hours maybe they’ve been- they’ve been a terrifying blurr. Jungkook can’t remember most of them. The hours he had run through the forest, ran through the dark night silently, frightened that someone was chasing him, flinching at every single sound - they’ve all molded in a single minute of darkness. The same trees passed him, the glow of the headlights burning his vision. 

He’s in front of that bus again. 

And then he’s running, running until he clutched at a tree, vomited until his tongue had swollen, until his gags were dry. 

But it’s what was before that, before all that, that scares Jungkook the most. Hazy, unknown images. 

He had woken, woken weak and shaking, his entire body too cold, too hot. When Jungkook had sat up, a slow, agonizing process as he’d gritted his teeth in pain - he’d been in a strange room. A place he’d never been, stripped down to his boxers, coated in sweat. His entire body was heavy, too heavy, a sweaty imprint on the bed he had just pushed up from. 

All his systems had switched to panic mode. Had pushed him into an adrenaline-fueled sprint, a desperate attempt to escape. A staircase, pictures, carpet, someone calling out to him - and he’d been out the door, sprinting, sprinting through grass, heading towards a faint, darkened treeline. He’d see it in the glow of what must have been the porch light and had beelined for it. 

Someone had taken him. Kidnapped him. Was intending to keep him prisoner. What they wanted to do with him, well, it’s beyond Jungkook. He’s a fucking normal person! He had to get out, out, out! So he had run. He had run and he had escaped and it hurts thinking about it now - hurts as his lungs burn, wheezes weakly. 

But Jungkook is home. He got away. 

Thank fucking god. 

But he is sure that he’s broken his legs. He can’t even feel them anymore - it’s just hot down there, burning heat. 

Jungkook groans in pain, eyebrows furrowing, fingernails digging into his knees. It still- his body is still on fucking fire. Fuck! No- he can’t just lie here, he- Jungkook needs to get up. He needs to get up, take a shower, rinse the dirt and grass from his feet, his legs. A nice, cool shower. That’s what he needs. 

He plants a palm on the floor. Pushes up with a grunt, his head spinning. A deep-set throbbing has started in his temple and it’s burying deeper into his brain by the minute. His entire skull is pulsing. 

Jungkook, his- his elbows are buckling, practically bursting at the seams, but he manages to push himself up with a muffled cry. After a struggle, he drags himself to the bathroom, fingernails clawing brutally at the walls. He can’t breathe, can only grit his teeth as he stumbles through the doorway, instantly grabbing onto the sink with an intense grip. Jungkook is sure a blood vessel is going to pop in his forehead from how hard he’s straining - his neck is purely stiff, his knees are shaking.

Letting out a shaky breath, fighting back the sting of vomit, Jungkook tips his head upward to look into the mirror.

It’s… well. 

What can he really say? 

He can’t think of a time he has ever looked this… sickly. His skin is almost entirely white - maybe tinged a little with blue, probably just due to the cold. There’s a vein standing out down the side of his face, his eyes are sunken, bagged by black. His entire body can’t seem to stand still, trembling as he clutches onto the sink tightly. Jungkook sighs, tipping his head a little, meaning to stretch but instead. Instead, his eyes catch onto the expanse of skin running down the right of his throat. 

He freezes. 

There, standing out harshly from the white, sits… a patch of red. It looks raw, inflamed, as if.. As if something has fucking bitten him. Letting out an annoyed hiss, Jungkook leans closer to the mirror, gently prodding at the edge of the site. It stings something horrible, and makes tears instantly spring into his eyes. Something electric soars down his spine. 

You know what, it’s fine. Jungkook will shower and then he’ll go to bed. In the morning, he’ll take some inflammation meds and it will calm down. It’ll be fine. With that in mind, he turns to twist the shower on, watching as steam slowly fills the bathroom. 

-----

It’s not fine. 

It’s not fine as Jungkook stands at the kitchen counter, knuckles turning white from how hard he’s clenching at the counter, desperately trying to hold back his gags as he leans over the kitchen sink. 

Getting out of bed had also been a struggle - he’d woken up with an absolutely pounding headache, the lights flashing black patches in front of his eyes. The only reason he had gotten up in the end - gotten up on shaky legs, almost falling multiple times - is because he had thrown up on the floor, neck straining. He has to fucking clean that but- but now Jungkook is trying his best not to vomit again as he heaves dangerously over the kitchen sink. 

What the fuck is happening? 

What the actual fuck is happening as he loses his grip on the kitchen side, knees buckling and he’s slumping down to the floor, hand tight over his mouth. What- his entire body is shaking. Jungkook doesn’t know if he’s ever felt this unwell in his life. There’s sweat clinging to his bare back, to his forehead, sliding down his legs, his entire body is trembling like he’s in an earthquake and his stomach is clenching, churning as if he’s in a washing machine. There’s blackness dancing in his vision as he manages to turn, his back smacking into the kitchen cabinet as he curls into a tiny ball. It- it fucking hurts. 

Jungkook needs to get medication. He needs to call someone, anyone but- but he-

----

He’s dying. 

It’s official. 

He can’t move anymore. A corpse slumped against the kitchen cabinets, breathing shallowly. How mocking that he’s come back to his position, back to curled against his kitchen cabinets as he did just a few days ago when this started. 

It’s been a week. 

A fucking week and now, now Jungkook is sure he’s dying. 

A week, a week. 

Fuck. 

This isn’t the way Jungkook wanted to die. 

It’s a blur. The whole week is a blur. Looking back now, it really wasn't that bad on the first day. He was a bit shaky, a bit sweaty, but this, this is hell. 

His mind is too slow, his tongue is too big. 

He doesn’t want to die like this. 

His breathing is shallow. Jungkook’s lungs wheeze. His eyes roll, roll over to where a pile of empty medication boxes sit pathetically on the floor. They didn’t do shit. Didn’t stop the vomit, the vomit that was blood-red   and burning. Didn’t stop the shaking of his bones, the swaying of the world. Jungkook can’t even feel his sweat anymore. He can’t feel anything, can barely even keep his eyes open. 

How many times has he been sick? He can’t remember. Can’t remember how his knees got bruised, how he managed to slash his upper arm. It was agonizing, for a while. Had him rolling on the floor, eyes in his head, screaming as his back had arched, as his organs had been torn to shreds. 

After that, there was nothing. Nothing but slowly tracing the lines on the tiles of the kitchen with his eyes. Waiting as his breathing slowed down. 

Jungkook wonders who will find him when he is dead. 

He hopes it’s soon. 

Hopes that it stops hurting soon too. 

The world is dulled now, muffled and faint, as though he’s watching it through a screen. He’s not in his body anymore, no, he’s floating somewhere behind it, watching and waiting quietly. 

Jungkook just- he just wants someone to hold him. Hold him while he goes, stroke his hair a little. 

He doesn’t have the energy to cry anymore. So, he just fastens his heavy eyes on a spot on the wall, watches as he feels his chest start to stutter, his heart slowly slowing. 

He just wants- 

He just-

Sire. 

Through water, Jungkook can hear the sound of a door slamming open. It’s muffled though, distant from where he’s lying at the bottom of the pool, staring at a rippling reality. His chest draws in a wheezing breath and he blinks, barely able to open his eyes again and-

He’s fucking ripped through the water’s surface. 

Jungkook chest stutters in a painful, full breath as his body clicks back into gear, as he’s sucked back into reality. And fuck, it hurts, it hurts, has tears streaming down his cheeks instantly as he whimpers in pain, grabs at his chest. He can suddenly feel the sweat, the shaking, the sunken bags underneath his eyes as his skull eats into him, and and-

A flash of black. 

Black in his kitchen doorway.

His eyes zero in on it. 

It’s fucking Death himself, oh sweet lord. 

It’s Death standing there, shrouded in his black cloud - he looks like the vision the specter must be. Large and looming, filling out the doorway with wide shoulders and a built jaw, and Jungkook is sure that his scythe must be somewhere behind him, hidden in the darkness. This is it. The demon himself has come to collect him and the terror, the terror that sparks deep in his gut as he takes in a shuddering, frightened gasp.

This is it!

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek and muffles a sob. 

This is it. 

…

Wait. 

…

He blinks. Slow. Slow. He can barely see through the tears, through the biting fear, but for a moment, a moment, he thinks he recognizes that face. That face through the wave of nausea, through the trembling of his fingers. 

It- it can’t be.

“Hyung?” Jungkook whispers and it’s broken. Broken as his voice grates out in a tiny, terrified squeak, as his eyes bloom with hot tears, as his throat closes up in a sob. The word even breaks halfway through, weak and vulnerable. 

“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon breathes out, and it’s quiet, it should be quiet, but it chimes into Jungkook’s ears like a fucking siren, swamping his brain. 

“Hyung.” He whispers again, unable to stop the tears that once again start to leak down his cheek as he gives a sob, clutching at the sharp pain in his chest, “Hyung, hyung,” his mind is breaking, “What is happening?” 

Kim Namjoon crosses the floor in two strides, crouching by his side. A hand is on his forehead, sweeping his hair back and Jungkook whines softly, leaning into the touch. He’s probably such a sight - a sweaty, unbearable mess - and yet he’s being touched so gently. 

“Fuck,” Namjoon is muttering, gently tipping his head to one side, seemingly looking for something, but Jungkook can’t even think about that right now, “Fuck, baby, you’re burning up. We need to get you home.”

“Home? But I am- I am home.”

Namjoon chuckles, but it sounds strained. “Not here, honey. Your new home. Your new home with me, with us.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow. He can barely pay attention to the way the pain in his chest is lessening more and more by the minute, the way the black is draining from his vision, and how his hands (that AREN’T shaking) are slowly curling into Namjoon’s sleeve. 

“Hyung… what? What- what is happening.” He doesn’t want to cry again, “Why do I feel so… so weird? Why- why are you making it better? I don’t- I don’t understand.” 

Namjoon's face crumples. He pauses for a moment, seems to think, and then slowly, slowly reaches out. Jungkook allows him to take his hand, watching through large, glassy eyes as his hand is guided to the man’s chest - lain right above where his heart would be. 

“What do you feel, Jungkook-ah?”

What?

“Breathe. And listen to yourself. What do you feel?” 

He doesn't want to, he really, truly doesn’t, but Jungkook can’t help it. Because it feels like his body is slowly, it’s calming, but in a good way, in a positive way, and it’s almost impossible to ignore the loud thoughts in his mind. The fading word of “sire” and then another, this one stronger, softer than freshly fallen snow. 

“ Mine,” Jungkook whispers, searching Namjoon’s eyes, “You’re mine. And I’m yours. But what does that mean? What does- sire? I- I don’t-” 

A hand strokes his cheek. 

“There was… was an accident, Jungkook-ah. I don’t wish to speak more about it, not now, not when you’re so ill, but there was one. A horrible, horrible one. I couldn’t let you die, baby, not you. I’m sorry. I was selfish. I wanted to keep you, just for a little longer.” 

Jungkook leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed. “What.. does that mean?” 

“That things have changed now,” Namjoon mumbles, “For you, for me, for all of us. Let me take you home, baby. I promise it’ll be easier to explain there. I have some… people who’d like to meet you.” 

“People?” 

“I promise, I’ll explain everything when we’re there. Promise.” 

A pause. Something tense in the air and Jungkook chews on his bottom lip softly. There’s silence in his kitchen, comfort settling on his chest. Namjoon seems content to let him think for a moment, moving back a few steps. 

Under his watchful eyes, Kim Namjoon stretches out his hand. 

Beckoning. Asking. 

He stares at it for a few moments. 

Debates. 

What else does he have?

To die on this kitchen floor?

Sire. 

Mine. 

Jungkook takes his outstretched hand. 

----

His legs are swaying a little as they walk, as Jungkook sits, cradled in Kim Namjoon’s hold. His chin is looped over the man’s shoulder, watching the treeline grow further as he’s carried toward a house. It’s a familiar one - one he ran from in fact, so he should feel fear. 

And yet… there’s nothing but… calm. 

Calm. 

He closes his eyes as the night air washes soothing over his sweaty hair, as a hand strokes down his back softly. The sound of boots hitting wood rings out, Jungkook tipping a little as they step upward, step upward onto the pouch, and as if on cue, the sound of the front door bursting open splits through the calm air. 

“Oh- thank god, you found him!” A voice says, and it’s unfamiliar, foreign, “Poor love has had us all out looking for the best of the week, good job, Joonie.” 

Jungkook breathes in slowly, letting the words wash over him. 

“Hyung,” Namjoon is saying, his chest rumbling, “This is Jungkook.”

There are more voices, more presences - like warm candles in his mind, settling a blanket over his fears, over his stiff joints. They’re stepping inside, a new hand brushing over his shoulder, one on his back, one sweeping his hair from his eyes. 

Jungkook breathes out slowly. 

He’s still confused, a little frightened too, but there’s something - something tight around his heart, insistent and loud in his mind. 

Something saying that this has, and always will be home. 

It feels like he’s coming home. 

“Welcome to the nest, Jungkook-ah.” 

Chapter Text

Light. It’s blinding and white and it’s filling the entirety of his vision, bathing him in a pool of fluorescents. Jungkook’s eyes widen, body frozen. 

The world ticks by cold, slow. 

It’s over. 

“JUNGKOOK-AH!” 

Jungkook gasps, body jerking as he startles out of his sleep, hands flying around in a panic. He grabs at himself, at his chest, his throat, wheezing as he tries to blink sleep from his eyes. Fuck, that felt so real and part of him wants to scream aloud, tear at his hair. It barely registers that it was just a dream, a dream… or was it?

Or was it a memory? 

“Oh. You’re awake.” 

He really does scream this time, jumping a foot into the air and grasping at whatever is covering him, tugging it up to his chin protectively. Like it will shield him, hide him and it’s… bed? Sheets..? 

Well. That’s new. 

They don’t really do anything, but it makes him feel a little better to have them tucked up underneath his nose, eyes locking onto the figure who is sitting at the end of his bed. The person…. Well. They look friendly, but Jungkook knows that looks can be deceiving. Fluffy hair, a dark, baggy t-shirt, and simple sweatpants on his legs. Jungkook narrows his eyes, shuffles just a little further away, his hackles raising. 

He’s been here before. 

He ran from here. 

“Who are you?” He spits, and it’s clearly aggressive, frightened, wary. The stranger's head tips a little, observing him out of calm eyes. He seems to sense Jungkook’s distress, at least to some extent, because he’s trying a calming smile, shuffling a bit further away to give Jungkook space. 

“It’s okay.” The stranger says, smile still pleasant, “My name is Hoseok.” 

Jungkook’s eyes narrow and he makes no move to lower the blanket. Instead, he clutches at it tighter, tucks it underneath his nose just a little firmer. 

“Where am I? Where’s- Where’s Namjoon-Hyung?”

He visibly sees how the strangers, Hoseok's smile softens at the mention of Namjoons name and he holds his hands up in a peaceful gesture. 

“You’re in our house. And Namjoon went downstairs to use the bathroom a couple of minutes ago. What timing you have, huh?” 

Jungkook lets the blanket fall just a little. 

“And me?” The man continues, smile curling into something that genuinely looks like sunshine, “I’m his… coven mate.” 

“Coven.. Mate?” Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, mouth pursing. 

“Ah,” Hoseok taps his chin theatrically, narrowing his eyes, “What would you call it…. Human terms… well, some coven mates are just… roommates? Like family? But in our case, I guess you might say that I am Namjoonie’s… boy.. Friend? Boy family lover.” 

“Ahh…” Jungkook says slowly, swallowing the words down. So this is Namjoon’s boyfriend. Huh. He didn’t know that his Hyung had a boyfriend. Well. The realization makes him deflate just a little, lowering the blanket into his lap. It’s there, clutched tight between his fingers. 

Maybe some stupid part of him hoped that Namjoon was single. 

Regardless, he shakes his head roughly, tries to focus back on Hoseok. But now that he’s awake, and that the panic-induced anxiety of being awoken to a stranger on his bed has dissipated, there’s another gnawing in the back of his mind. Something warm and sickly, almost hungry, clawing up at the back of his throat. Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, grimacing. 

There’s something else there, something apart from the rumble in his throat, something almost like a lightbulb in his mind. Tracking, tracking, something glowing and it’s drawing closer, closer, closer-

The door slams open and Jungkook jumps with a squeak, sending himself burying back underneath the covers. 

“Fuck, Joon-ah,” He hears Hoseok sigh, and his own ears are pricking at the mention of his sire, “You’ve scared him.”

“Sorry.” He hears Namjoon’s voice respond, laced with guilt, and Jungkook would laugh - if there wasn’t suddenly a piercing pain in his upper gums making his face twist, a whimper leak from his mouth. 

He’s in a strange place, he hurts everywhere, he just met Namjoon’s boyfriend and now his mouth is burning, his teeth rattling. Jungkook just wants to go home. 

Needless to say, the next thirty minutes are a living hell as Namjoon coaxes him out from underneath the duvet, tugs him into his lap to slowly begin to explain what Jungkook’s new reality is. 

Especially when Jungkook finds out that he’s now a vampire. 

Ouch. 

(He definitely did NOT chomp on Namjoon’s hand upon hearing the news in a bid to escape, but upon escape, tripped and fell face-first on his nose bursting into tears. Not at all.)

The rest of the day is lost to countless panic attacks, black hazes that are only cushioned by the duvet over him, Namjoon’s soft hand trying to soothe him. 

It’s not nice. 

Jungkook wants to go home. 

----

“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon calls softly and Jungkook can feel his hand ghosting over the duvet that he has pulled firmly over his head, “Come on, baby. You need to feed.” 

“No.” Jungkook retorts stubbornly, shrinking a little deeper underneath the duvet. He must look awfully strange from Namjoon’s perspective, a small worm wriggling underneath the thick sheets, hands curled tightly at the entrance to prevent his sire from revealing him to the light. 

Namjoon sighs, and from Jungkook’s curled position, he can tell the man is frustrated. “I know you don’t like it, honey, but you have to.” 

“I don’t.” 

“You do.” 

He feels the mattress bend a little underneath Namjoon’s weight as the vampire sits down, heavy hand coming to rest on Jungkook’s head, still squirreled away underneath the covers. 

“Don’t.” 

“Don’t you get tired of doing this every time?” Namjoon asks, and it’s gentle, but it still stings like an open wound. Jungkook hisses like a cat, retracting deeper into the bed. 

“No. I hate it. It tastes bad. I don’t like it.” 

“I know you don’t,” His sire soothes, managing to drag the covers up, tugging them from Jungkook’s tight hands. Jungkook scowls, turning his face away as Namjoon comes into view, a soft expression on his face. 

“I know it isn’t pleasant. But it’s important to keep you fed.” 

“Don’t wanna.” Jungkook mumbles and foolishly, he can feel tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, his arms curling around his waist. 

“I know,” Namjoon soothes again, but he’s gripping Jungkook with strong hands, dragging him out of his warm den. Jungkook doesn’t bother to struggle, just pouting as he’s slowly dragged to the mouth of the bed, maneuvered so Namjoon can tug the fledgling into his lap, cuddle him close. 

“Hmph.” 

He feels a thumb drag over the plush of his cheek and Namjoon is pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. Jungkook can’t help the way he melts into his sire’s chest, nuzzling his cheek against the man’s shirt. It’s always comfortable in Namjoon’s arms, no matter how disgusted Jungkook feels every time he has to feed. 

He despises it. Loathes it. It’s the worst part of being a vampire. 

And he’s only been a vampire for a few days. 

Days of panic-ridden, stubbornness and Jungkook trying urgently to adapt to his new reality - and despite Namjoon’s valiant efforts, it’s not going very well. 

Speaking of which, Jungkook’s nose harshly wrinkled as the familiar, bitter iron smell of blood hits his senses, shuddering back into Namjoon’s holding arms. 

“I know,” His sire soothes, holding his dripping wrist in front of Jungkook’s face, just a few paces away, “I know you don’t like it, and I don’t like making you have to drink when you don’t want to. But it’s important, baby.” 

Foolishly, there are tears swarming in his vision as Jungkook sniffles, turns a little to bury his face into Namjoon’s shirt. His sire rumbles, concerned and clearly worried, and presses a soft kiss to Jungkook’s hair. 

“I know, I know it’s overwhelming.”

Overwhelming is an understatement. Jungkook’s brain is going absolutely haywire. From the aching in his gums to the curling hunger in his stomach, red-hot like a poker, to the strange spikes in his mind whenever Namjoon is near - as if he’s feeling his sire’s presence, like they’re one in the same. He can pinpoint when Namjoon is near, when he’s too far. 

He just wants it to stop. 

He’s sobbing. 

“Oh, baby,” he can hear Namjoon whispering, his non-bleeding hand gently urging his face out of his dampening shirt, “I know. I know you don’t like this.” 

Jungkook hates it. But he can’t fight forever, can’t when he can feel his stomach curling in excitement, an ache at the back of his tongue. It’s why he allows himself to be guided to Namjoon’s dripping arm, allows himself to latch onto the thin scratch and suck deeply. 

It’s sour. It’s sour and bitter and makes his face scrunch with unpleasantness, threatening to pull away - but Namjoon is there, slowly cradling his head against his chest, free hand stroking Jungkook’s hair from his face. So Jungkook can do nothing, can do nothing but sob quietly, a shaking hand rising so his fingers can curl tightly around Namjoon’s wrist. 

A few gulps later and it’s starting to taste good, making Jungkook’s eyes flutter closed in relief. It tends to get better after the first few mouthfuls, but it is those mouthfuls that make him never want to feed again. 

It’s vile. Thick and sticky. 

“Good boy,” Namjoon murmurs when Jungkook finally pops off of his wrist, smacking his lips together a few times and grimacing at the bitter after taste. But that hot coiling in his chest has gone and he’s suddenly so, so sleepy, curling into Namjoon’s waiting arms like a babe. He allows himself to be rocked, allows his sire to kiss the crown of his forehead, murmur how proud he is of Jungkook. 

But everything is still weird. So, so weird. 

----

It’s weird because Jungkook doesn’t know where he stands. When he had woken up a week ago, dazed and disoriented, overwhelmed by his new sense of smell, it was all so different, so new, and everything still hasn’t settled in. Especially when Namjoon had ungracefully dropped the bomb of “ hey, you’re a vampire now!” on him, causing Jungkook just more panic, more confusion. 

He can’t really remember much after Namjoon said that, apart from the fact that he had chomped on his sire’s hand whilst trying to escape and then had faceplanted - and had ended up scooped up by Hoseok and soothed whilst his nose dripped in blood, tears streamed from his eyes. 

But it’s been a week and everything just hurts and Jungkook is too anxious to leave his room, his stomach a churning mess, and he’s even taken to trying to hide underneath the bed in order to quell a little of his anxiety. 

It doesn’t really work. 

And he has a sire now. A concept he doesn’t really understand but all he knows is his head starts to ache when Namjoon leaves the room, and he’ll find himself latching onto the man’s back, begging him not to go. 

It’s just… overwhelming. His thoughts going at a hundred miles an hour, his throat constantly dry, his eyes pulsing in beat with the clock. He just needs everything to stop for a minute. To be able to blink without the overwhelming urge to panic boiling on the back of his tongue. 

“Come on, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon murmurs, holding out his hand from where he’s standing far, far at the bottom of the staircase. “You can do it.” 

Jungkook lingers, hand still gripping onto the top of the banister post as he peers down the staircase, chewing on his bottom lip. There’s a part of him, heck, most of him, that just wants to retreat back into the bedroom, hide underneath the covers for the rest of today. But Namjoon has coaxed him out, told him that he wants Jungkook to meet his other coven mates . 

There is more of them?

Are they all… together? 

Slowly, slowly, Jungkook lowers one foot down, shivering as it brushes over the carpet, heel slowly pressing into the floor. Namjoon makes a happy, coaxing noise, moving one step up the staircase to extend his hand a little further. 

“That’s it. You’re doing so well, baby. You can do it. Nothing is gonna hurt you, I promise. There’s nothing scary down here.” 

One more step, and then one more, and then another, and slowly, Jungkook is sliding his sweaty palm into Namjoon’s hand. His sire’s fingers curl tightly around his wrist, squeezing for a moment, and then he gently tugs Jungkook down the last step - rotating his hand so they can clasp together properly, fingers intertwined. 

Namjoon tugs at their joined hands, leading Jungkook around the base of the stairs. In front of them, the corridor seems so… so dark. Dark and leading to a even darker door - even though it’s completely filled with windows, a french patio door almost. It’s… it’s terrifying, if he’s honest. Jungkook has only met Hoseok, and even he is scary. Not outright but he’s just… there. He feels strong, tugs at something in Jungkook’s gut, makes him feel like a weak babe in comparison. 

And he has to meet more? 

He stops. Plants his heels into the floorboards and stares down. Their joined hands tug as Namjoon tries to continue walking, yet to notice that Jungkook has stopped. His eyes are glossing over quickly and Jungkook wants to scold himself, and call himself pathetic but… he’s so intimidated. He doesn’t think he can do this. It’s too new, too soon, he’s too- too scared. He feels so, so small. 

“ Shhh,” His sire murmurs, and Jungkook can’t bite back his sniffle, bottom lip trembling. He feels Namjoon drawing close, large hands curling around his waist as he cuddles Jungkook close. There is a cool kiss pressed to the side of his head, rocking him softly. 

Jungkook sniffles again, chest tight. 

“Can I just- go back upstairs? Please, sire, I don’t-” 

It’s just natural, the word, to label Namjoon as his sire. It just rolls off his tongue instinctually. 

“I know,” Namjoon soothes, a hand stroking through Jungkook’s hair. It makes him shiver happily, eyes fluttering closed. “I know it’s intimidating. It’s overwhelming. It was for me too, so long ago. But I promise you. My coven mates are not scary. They’re not going to hurt you. You’re mine, baby. So you’re theirs too.” 

Jungkook sniffles, but doesn’t complain when Namjoon steps back, slowly intertwines their fingers again, and tugs him forward softly. He sways once and then takes the step, chest tight as Namjoon leads him down the corridor. 

He’s going to be sick. 

No, Jungkook is one-hundred percent going to vomit as Namjoon leads him down the corridor, tugs him through that patio-esque door and into the room beyond. Through hazy, slightly-panicked eyes, Jungkook scouts of his surroundings, swallowing thickly. 

The doors lead into a lovely open living room area. Jungkook can see a grandfather clock pressed against one wall, lovely, huge couches spread out over a carpet, a fireplace crackling merrily against another wall. There are cabinets of old trinkets, ancient-looking things, and daggers on tiny stands, silver, and gold picture frames and it’s all very grand. A quick, hazy look to his left introduces the entire kitchen - an open plan that leaves the kitchen counter overlooking into the living space, appliances sparkling clean and there are notes stuck on the fridge and it…

It feels like….

Home. 

It is only then, when Jungkook has drunk in his surroundings, that he registers the flurry of movement in front of them - there are people hurriedly rising from the couches, tugging at their shirts - and it draws a stunned squeak from his mouth. He finds himself taking a step back, clutching onto Namjoon with desperate tiny hands, trying to hide himself behind his sire’s broad body. 

Namjoon doesn’t let him though. Not really, though he allows Jungkook to shrink into his side in a skittish manner, but a firm arm over his shoulders prevents the fledgling from shrinking entirely behind his body, to use his sire as a shield. It brings a distressed, upset whine to the surface, frustration bubbling through Jungkook as his mind spikes with something hot, something overwhelmingly similar to Namjoon - his sire’s presence, a candle in his mind, and now it feels like an entire wildfire is burning in there. 

“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon says gently, tapping him gently on the forehead and it’s enough to draw the nestling's attention, have him glare up at him with curiosity. “Meet the rest of the coven.” 

His sire’s lovers. 

With a grimace, another unrelenting shuffle to try and hide his shuddering body behind Namjoon, Jungkook tentatively turns his quivering gaze to the people in front of him. There are five of them, he counts, of various heights - and he immediately recognizes Hoseok from his bedside on that very first day. His eyes narrow a little in pain as something warm, something lit sparks through his mind painfully. 

“Yoongi-Hyung, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok-Hyung and Seokjin-Hyung. They’re all older than you, Jungkook-ah, so you can call them all “Hyung.”.” 

Ouch. Jungkook forces out a nod, gritting his teeth as his head pulses again. There’s- there’s something inside of him, something trying to tug him in the direction of these strangers as if they’re something meant to comfort, meant to protect him, but logically - Jungkook doesn’t even know them! 

They’re all…. Intimidating. Especially the one pointed out as Seokjin-Hyung - he’s tall, broad-shouldered, standing there and looking at him with a curious expression. Jungkook shrinks back a little more, giving a shaky nod. 

“It’s nice to meet you officially, Jungkook-ah,” One of the vampires says, stepping forward with a gentle smile, a hand slowly outstretched in a peaceful manner. It’s Jimin, if Jungkook remembers correctly, one of the shorter vampires with a soft face and even softer eyes. Regardless, he shrinks back a little more, shuddering in confusion. 

Jimin’s face falls, just a tiny fraction, but Jungkook can’t actually gauge whether the vampire is upset or not - because there’s a hand guiding Jimin away, the vampire, Yoongi shooting Jungkook a curious look. 

“Would you like Namjoon-ah to give you a tour of down here?” Seokjin says, and his voice is like rumbling thunder and Jungkook inches another awkward step behind Namjoon. Honestly, he’d just like to go back into his room. The air is too thick down here, it feels like he is wading through honey, his brain throbbing. 

It’s a constant headache, bordering on a migraine, and it hurts. 

“Maybe… maybe another time,” He squeaks, curling his fingers tightly into Namjoon’s shirt. Filling with shame, Jungkook drops his eyes to the floor, unable to stare at these strangers any longer. “I’m a bit tired.” 

“That’s okay,” Namjoon soothes, gently petting his hair, “Are you sure you don’t want me to show you around a little-?”

“...Can I go back to my room now? Please?” 

Namjoon sighs softly but pats Jungkook’s head all the same. 

“Okay, baby. Let’s go back to your room.” 

He flees like a coward, his chest only settling once he’s gotten under his covers again, cocooning himself away from the world. 

----

“Jungkook-ah?” 

Jungkook can hear Namjoon’s call, muffled by wood and by the sheets piled high around his body, and yet, he still refuses to answer. Buries a little deeper into the sheets that line the sheet closet, tucking himself into a tiny ball right in the back corner. 

His chest hurts. 

On days like this, it’s all a bit much. The world is too vivid, burning at his fingertips. He can’t think, can’t see. Overstimulating, the world rushes around him like an ocean, seeping into his lungs to drown him. 

Here, tucked away in a small, dark space, Jungkook’s mind can calm. 

Just a little. 

“Jungkook-ah? Baby?” He hears Namjoon call again softly, the creaking of a cupboard door opening filtering through to Jungkook’s hiding place. His sire has quickly caught onto his habits, has unfortunately managed to find him in almost record-time every time Jungkook hides himself away. He mumbles unhappily, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his face into his knees. 

His head hurts. His body hurts. He doesn’t want to. 

He just wants to be in the dark for a while. To be alone. 

Light burns down his spine as he hears the door creak open and Jungkook whimpers under his breath, cursing silently. He can feel Namjoon standing firm, big in the doorway, the hallway light leaking into his little hiding place. 

“There you are,” His sire murmurs, bones creaking as he squats down to Jungkook’s height, reaching forward over the piles of sheets. Jungkook can’t help the way he leans into Namjoon’s touch, purrs a little as the man strokes through his hair. 

“Is it a bit loud today, baby?” 

“Mmm.” 

Namjoon lets out a sympathetic sigh, softly pressing his thumb to Jungkook’s forehead. “I know you want to stay in here, but I need you to come out, baby. We’ve got to get you fed.” 

Jungkook whines. Whines angrily as he shoves Namjoon’s hand away, buries his face back into his knees. He feels his sire sigh, the sheets next to him rustle as they’re moved away, as Namjoon reaches for him. There’s not much he can do, small and weak, as his sire scoops him out from the cupboard, plants him firmly on his hip. He nuzzles into the baby hair by Jungkook’s ear, chuckling deep as the fledgling lets out a whine of indignation. 

“I know. You’ll probably be back in a cupboard within twenty minutes. But it’s important that you’re fed, Jungkook-ah, okay?” 

Jungkook is not happy about this. The world is ringing metallic in his ears, loud and invasive, and his skin is prickling, thrumming with unwelcome goosebumps. Everything hurts. His brain is beating with an unfamiliar pattern and there is pain in the uppermost part of his gums, the roof of his mouth. 

He snuggles into Namjoon’s shoulder, collects a hunk of muscle in between his teeth, and bites down. It seems to help the throbbing in his teeth. His sire doesn’t complain, just hums and strokes down his back as he carries him back to his bedroom. 

----

Thirty minutes and Jungkook’s temper is fraying. 

“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon says, and it clearly has a warning tint, showing that his sire is also getting frustrated, “I don’t want to fight with you. You need to feed, it’s important.” 

“NO.” Jungkook growls, retreating further into the safety of his blankets as he bares his teeth into the darkness. There’s something tight in his chest, something about to snap and he’s just frustrated. It doesn’t taste nice, it’s sour, it burns him and he just doesn’t-

“Jungkook-ah-” 

Snap. 

“I SAID I DON’T WANT TO!” Jungkook screams and it tears at his vocal cords, twists into something squeaky and frustrated as his hand snakes out from underneath the duvet, curls into the nearest cushion, and hauls it with all his strength. He hears the whomph as it must smack Namjoon in the face, his sire stumbling backward a few steps. 

Jungkook doesn’t have the brain space to feel bad. He sniffles loudly, worming deeper into the bed with an angry rumble, curling up like an egg. His ears are ringing, loud and demanding, and he slams his hands over his ears, biting back pained whimpers. 

He can feel his sire sigh, clearly frustrated, the grating of his teeth sounding like mini explosions to Jungkook’s tender brain. He presses his palms firmer onto his ears, until it physically hurts, until his head is squeezing painfully. 

He just- he just doesn’t want to! He’s sick of the plastic taste that comes with blood bags, he’s sick of the bitter tas, of having to drink blood all the fucking time. It’s important for Jungkook to have a diet of half-human, half-vampire ratio of blood whilst he’s transitioning into a fully-fledged vampire, growing past the fledgling stage, but he’s fucking sick of it.

He doesn’t want to. It’s too bitter, too thick, sticking to the roof of his mouth, and no. Jungkook’s eyes prick with new tears as he buries his face into the mattress, sniffling softly. 

Namjoon sighs again, fingers brushing over his skin as he must rub at his face, and Jungkook sobs again, listening to how his sire walks out the room, the fading echo as he moves further away. 

Jungkook can hear him walking down the staircase, that hot presence alight on his mind fading the further his sire moves. He doesn’t mean to be a brat, to be frustrating, he just- he just doesn’t- 

His body falls to the side, curling in on itself as Jungkook presses a palm to his wet eyes, rubbing gently at his running nose. Even his tears are thick, wet, and obviously red, and faintly, he wonders how many sets of sheets he has stained in the short time he has been here. 

Are… is Namjoon going to… going to send him away? Is Jungkook too frustrating? Too difficult to handle? Can sires send their nestlings away? Jungkook- Jungkook doesn’t know where he would go! Namjoon’s coven mates seem nice, even though Jungkook has hidden from them, skittish and afraid, but surely, surely they wouldn’t stop his sire if he chose to send-.... To send him away. 

Jungkook doesn’t mean anything to them. 

They didn’t want him so why-

Why? 

Oh. 

Jungkook shoves his fist into his mouth to muffle the heavy sobs that are there, threatening to spill from his body. He curls in on himself smaller and smaller, eyes burning hot. What if… what if they do send him away? He needs to stop being so- such a- such a brat because- because he-

The door creaks open. Jungkook stiffens, biting down harshly on his bottom lip as he trembles, tries to contain his building (already flowing tears). Has sire come back? Can Jungkook apologize for throwing a pillow at him? He doesn’t mean to be so stubborn it’s just- everything hurts and he’s tired and it doesn’t taste good and-

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

He stiffens. 

That isn’t Namjoon. 

He blinks. Once, twice, watches through wide eyes as the bed sinks a little further up, creasing under someone’s weight. He sniffles low, head rising a little in curiosity. 

“Are you going to come out?” The person asks, and their voice is so nice. Low and calming, the scraping of dialect is visible in their tone as they speak. It’s.. oddly comforting. Jungkook sniffles again, but slowly shuffles a pace forward. And then another. And another, until he’s wormed his way up to the mouth of the duvet. No one lifts the duvet, no one tries to peer in at him, so Jungkook slowly shuffles up, sticking his nose out of the blanket like a curious kitten. 

The vampire chuckles, low and clearly amused as Jungkook wriggles forward just a little more, duvet tucked over his head like a hood, eyes wide and curious. 

He… recognizes this man. Min… Yoongi? He’s a little short, dark hair and a soft jawline, and he looks… comfortable. 

“Are you going to come sit by me?” Min Yoongi asks gently, patting the bed next to him, “It’s nice to see you, Jungkook-ah.” 

A happy little shiver runs down Jungkook’s spine. This is new. And there’s something different about the vampire. Different from how Namjoon feels - just as warm, a candle in his mind, but he just feels… different. Jungkook slowly shuffles out from underneath the duvet, blinking curiously as he slides himself to sit next to Min Yoongi. The vampire just looks at him, eyes soft, body relaxed. 

Once they sit together, silently, knees almost brushing, Yoongi reaches out to pick something up from the bedside table. It’s a cup. A pastel-coloured cup with a sealed lid and a straw, tiny little flowers decorating around the sealed rim. Yoongi sits the cup in his lap, turning a little to look at Jungkook again. 

“You know you need to feed, don’t you?” 

Jungkook deflates, eyes pricking with tears as he turns away, back slouched. Yoongi hums gently, reaching out to grasp his chin with thin, calloused fingers. Jungkook is guided back to his face, eyes widening as the vampire smiles at him again. 

“I know it isn’t very nice, is it? That’s why Hyung got something extra special for you.” 

Jungkook blinks, eyes flicking back to the cup. 

“Extra.. Special? For me?” 

“Uh huh,” Yoongi taps the cup with a gentle finger, metallic ringing, “I got some special blood for you. It’s extra sweet. Extra sweet for sweet nestlings like you.” 

“ Extra sweet?” Jungkook asks, eyes wide as he stares at the cup, an ache appearing in his gums. 

“Uh huh,” Yoongi taps the cup again and shuffles just an inch closer so their shoulders brush. Jungkook finds himself melting into the touch, eagerly shuffling closer so he’s leaning against the older vampire, eyes still glued onto that pastel cup nestled in his lap. 

“And I know it isn’t pleasant to feed alone, is it? So I thought Hyung could take a sip, and then you could take a sip. So if it isn’t sweet enough for your little teeth, you won’t have to drink it alone. Does that sound good, little one?”

Jungkook is shivering in delight. He squirms, saliva building underneath his tongue as his eyes dilate, fingers slowly coming up to curl around Yoongi’s elbow. 

“Hyung… please?” 

“Do you want the first sip?” 

It’s tempting, it is, but… Jungkook needs to know that it tastes okay. 

“Hyung first?” 

“Okay, sweetheart.” 

Jungkook watches through eager eyes as the vampire raises the straw to his lips, fastens it to his mouth, and takes a sip. His throat bobs as he swallows and as Jungkook observes, the vampire doesn’t even flinch. It must not be sour then. It must taste okay! Not even a crease of the eyebrows. 

“Very sweet,” Yoongi comments softly, seemingly rolling the taste around his mouth. “Okay, it’s your turn now, Jungkook-ah.” 

Jungkook is almost physically itching to get the cup into his hands, almost wanting to snatch it from his sire’s hold but instead, he waits patiently for Yoongi to press it into his hands. He’s eagerly fastening his mouth around the straw and sucks deeply, the warm feeling of blood filling his mouth. He freezes for a moment, a little scared, remembering all the times it has been sour, stung at his throat, but Jungkook forces himself to swallow anyway with a flinch. 

His mouth pops away from the straw wetly, eyes wide. 

“It’s… it’s sweet!” He squeaks excitedly, whipping to face Yoongi. The vampire nods softly, reaching forward to wipe at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. 

“I told you. Hyung’s extra special delivery.” 

Jungkook giggles, cheek smacking into Yoongi’s shoulder as he melts, presses the straw back into his mouth to drink deeply. It’s so warm, so smooth and sweet and it doesn’t sting as he’s swallowing frantically, eyes lulling. His body is melting, mind settling, and it’s only after a few more frantic sips that he pulls away, manages to slur the words - “Does Hyung want a sip?” 

“I ate just before,” Yoongi soothes, reaching up to stroke through his hair, and Jungkook purrs, “You can keep drinking, little one. It’s okay. Go on.” He presses the cup back to Jungkook’s lips and he doesn’t complain, fastening his lips around the straw to drink deeply again. 

It’s so.. Quiet now. His ears aren’t buzzing, his teeth aren’t hurting as the cup rings hollow underneath his pressure, empty of any blood. He doesn’t complain when Yoongi softly draws the cup away, setting it somewhere before wrapping his arms around Jungkook, cuddling him close. He all but allows himself to be guided into the vampire’s lap, tucking his face into the cool of his throat as he smacks his lips gratefully. 

He’s so… sleepy. 

“Good boy.” Yoongi murmurs, nuzzling softly just above his ear, right in the baby hair there, “I’m so proud of you for feeding. So proud of you, little one.” 

Jungkook purrs again. It’s so nice here, to be held, by one of his sires, and it’s comfortable and he just wants to sleep, fall asleep as someone pets through his hair, scratches at his scalp and-

Sire. 

He stiffens in Yoongi’s hold, sitting up a little more with bleary eyes, searching the room. That warm presence is there, standing in the doorway, and it’s- it’s Namjoon. Namjoon, one of his sires, and oh, oh, Jungkook threw a pillow and hit him, and no, no that’s wasn’t good! 

He plants a melting palm against Yoongi’s chest, pushes back with a whine, eyes focussed hazily on the vampire leaning on the doorway. His sire lets him go, steadies him with a gentle hand as Jungkook stumbles forward, bottom lip trembling. 

His fingers meet fabric, and then cooled flesh, and Jungkook is stumbling, knees giving out with a whine. But there are arms curling around him, scooping him up, then underneath his thighs, and he buries his face into his sire’s throat with a happy sigh, nosing at his skin. 

“You feeling better now, huh, baby?” Namjoon says, but it’s a little muffled, a little out of reach, and Jungkook thinks he can hear an endeared laugh as his sire presses a kiss next to his eye. 

“‘M,” He’s so, so sleepy and so, so warm and everything is sinking, “‘M sorry for throwing a pillow at you sire, twasn’t ver’ nice….”

“It wasn’t, was it?” Namjoon coos, pressing another kiss to his cheek, “But I’ll forgive you, okay? I’ve got you.” 

Jungkook feels another hand on his back, something different, heavy, and he hears Yoongi saying something over his pliant shoulder to Namjoon. That’s all it takes, two tender hands, two sires, and Jungkook is lost to the world. 

----

The world is too loud today. 

Again. 

Jungkook presses his fingers deeper into his ears, trying to muffle his whimpers of pain. It just feels like everything is ringing. Even locked deep into his favourite linens closet, tucked right at the back where it’s dark and warm, everything is still too loud. He can hear the clink of someone in the kitchen downstairs, the brush of socks over the living room carpet, fingers on the banister and-

Stop, stop, stop! 

He smacks the sides of his head firmly, eyes tearing up as he sniffles. It’s too much. Every sound feels like a cannonball inside his brain, every shuffle of his own skin against linen has him shuddering back into the wall with a short cry, smacking his hands firmly against his ears again. 

It’s too much. It’s too much and Jungkook wants a hug. Well, mostly, he wants his hearing to tone down a bit, the churning in his stomach to lessen, the utter pounding at the front of his mind to leave. 

He freezes. 

Hears the fingers run over the doorknob once, almost as if it’s a warning, and then there’s a short, quiet creak as the closet door is tugged open slowly. Jungkook’s eyes narrow into slits, preparing to be absolutely blinded by the corridor lights - even though the coven has been keeping them on the lowest, dimmest setting for his sake. 

But… he’s not. No, there’s not even a speck of light leaking in through the cracked doorway. Someone has switched off all the lights entirely, has drawn all possible curtains to prevent any light from creeping out into the corridor. Jungkook lets out a small, inquisitive chirp, perking up just a little. 

“Hi, little one.” 

Jungkook blinks, chest tight. That’s… that’s the intimidating one. The broad shoulders, the curious eyes, and yet… he looks so gentle. Slowly squatting down in the open doorway, laying his hand on the top of one of the piles of linens. 

He looks… mine. 

He lets out a little helpless whine, pressing his hands back up to his ears, eyes wide and glossy. 

“A bit loud, is it, baby?” Seokjin coos softly, and he reaches out to run his thumb over Jungkook’s cheek. The fledgling finds himself leaning into the motion, chest rumbling in a purr as his eyes crack closed, as his hands fall a little from his ears. 

“Can I come in there with you?” 

That, that makes Jungkook’s eyebrows raise a little. Normally Namjoon just coaxes him out of the cabinets, of the closets he hides in, but this man, this vampire, Seokjin, is offering to clamber in here with him. Jungkook shrugs quietly, eyes wide and the vampire’s thumb slips from his cheek. 

He makes quiet work of moving the piles of linens, of slowly clambering his way into the closet beside him. Jungkook watches with wide eyes as Seokjin curls his long limbs into a comfortable position, carefully tugs the linens back into place, and then proceeds to reach up, tug the door closed. 

They’re engulfed in darkness. 

It’s comfortable. 

“I know the world can be a bit much sometimes,” Seokjin murmurs, and Jungkook shivers happily as those cool hands come up to stroke through his hair, smooth down his back, “Being a nestling is hard work, I know. It’s been so long for me, I can barely remember, but I can remember the stinging.” 

Jungkook purrs, leaning into the cool palm that is now resting on his cheek. His eyes are getting heavy, his shoulders are relaxing, and he slowly allows himself to melt to the side. His cheek meets a shoulder, his fingers curl around a wrist and he can hear Seokjin murmuring softly to him, hooking an arm around his waist to snuggle the nestling in close. 

It’s nice. 

When Jungkook wakes, maybe hours later, the world is hazy and barely there, he can barely recognize that he’s being carried. 

“ What did you do to him, Hyung?” Namjoon’s voice, a hand stroking his cheek.  

“It looks like he’s accepting us all as his sires,” Seokjin, the arms around him secure and warm, “ he absolutely melted into me. I would normally scold you for recklessly turning someone, Namjoon-ah, but…. I think you found someone precious.” 

The world slips from his grasp and Jungkook nuzzles into the vampire’s chest, his settling scent the last thing on his senses. 

----

He pauses in front of the door, drawing a deep breath into his lungs before he presses forward, steps out into the living room. There’s a grumbling deep in his stomach, an ache in his gums and yet - Namjoon hasn’t come to his room, hasn’t offered to feed him yet. It’s a bit surprising, honestly, but in a glimpse of courage, Jungkook has snuck down the stairs on a mission. 

To get himself food. 

He should be drinking from someone this time, to keep up the ratio of blood, but surely, an extra blood bag wouldn’t hurt anyone. Yoongi had mentioned, when he had come to feed Jungkook yesterday, that they keep them all chilled in the fridge in the kitchen - so that is where he is going, licking over his tender teeth as he goes. 

Jungkook peers around the living room cautiously and to his relief, it’s empty. So, he turns toward the kitchen, eyes rolling over the open kitchen counter and into the actual kitchen and he freezes. 

Someone is staring at him. 

Two people, actually. 

One he recognizes. 

One, not really. 

“Hi, Jungkook-ah,” Hoseok simply says, turning around to continue stirring a steaming cup of something, “It’s nice to see you out of your room. You don’t have to be frightened - this house is yours now.” 

Jungkook bites his bottom lip firmly but nods, eyes flicking to the other stranger who is staring at him seemingly in wonder. He knows his name - Taehyung - and he looks approachable, pressed in a soft sweater and there’s a growing smile pulling his teeth into a box. 

He suddenly squeals. Squeals and rushes at Jungkook, making him jump almost a foot in the air - and the winds are rushing to a stop as Taehyung skids to a stop just a mer foot away, Jungkook blinking at him in confusion, a little stunned.

The vampire holds out his arms. 

Jungkook blinks. Nods slowly. 

And he’s swept up into the most passionate hug he thinks he’s ever received. So tight, so comforting, and his arms are looping around Taehyung’s back, chin digging into his shoulder. 

“It’s so nice to have you here,” Taehyung whispers to him, voice low and chilling, “I’m the youngest here so it’s nice to have someone younger to relate to. These oldies don’t understand todays' slang.” 

Jungkook can’t fight the giggle that boils in his throat and Taehyung pulls back a little, smile growing brighter. He intertwines their hands and tugs Jungkook through into the kitchen, almost bouncing as he goes. 

Hoseok doesn’t seem surprised at his energy, just sips at his mug with a soft, endeared smile. 

“Can I ask what has tempted you out of your room?” Hoseok asks him and Jungkook blinks, a light blush coating over his cheeks. 

“It’s not a bad thing,” Taehyung assures him, squeezing him into a side hug, “It’s just we expected you to hide away for a little longer, so it’s so nice to see you out and exploring!” 

“Aish, well,” Jungkook says bashfully, looking down toward his feet, “Well, I’m… hungry. I thought I’d come to sneak a blood bag.” 

Hoseok slams the mugs down so fast that both the vampire jump in time, Jungkook and Taehyung’s eyes wide as the sound rings around the kitchen. 

“Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Hoseok beams, moving quickly toward the fridge, “What did you drink last, Jungkook-ah? Do you have a preference?” 

“Ah, well… technically I’m supposed to have vampire… blood this time but Namjoon-Hyung isn’t-”

The fridge slamming has them both jumping again, Taehyung hiding a surprised giggle behind a palm. Hoseok’s eyebrows are creased in concentration, turning to Jungkook. 

“It is important to keep a ratio, baby. I think Namjoon-ah went to get the post, but if you’re comfortable…” Taehyung squeezes his arm, “You can feed from one of us here?”

Jungkook blinks. 

“One of… you?”

“Mhmm.” Hoseok hums, leaning back against the fridge, “Well, I just fed Taehyung fifteen minutes ago so that’s probably not an option and Taehyung-ah was just fed so-” 

Taehyung is gone from his side, whooshing out the doorway like a tornado. Hosoek simply sways with the winds, rolling his eyes with an endeared smile. Moments later, Taehyung is there again, someone curled in his arms, their own arms looped around his throat, looking a little rattled. 

Jimin. 

“You can feed from Jimin!” Taehyung says enthusiastically, allowing Jimin to wriggle from his arms, the vampire landing gently on the ground. He casts a look in Hoseok’s direction, curious, and then looks toward Jungkook, eyes softening into warm moons.  

“Is that right? The baby is hungry? You’re welcome to feed from me, Jungkook-ah. I don’t mind, truly.” 

“Are you… sure?” Jungkook asks, hands twisting together as he looks between them all, “There isn’t like… a protocol or anything or-”

“If you’re hungry,” Jimin says softly, moving closer to grab Jungkook’s hand, “Then the protocol is to get you fed as soon as possible. As long as you are comfortable, little one, it’s okay.” 

“I-”.... 

Jimin looks warm. Smaller than him but in his lap… Jungkook thinks he would feel tiny. His hands are sweet too, caressing the back of Jungkook’s hand with soft fingers and there’s something bubbling in the corners of his brain, in his chest-

“Yes, please, Hyung.” 

He doesn’t have to say anything more. 

Jungkook is being tugged back into the living room by sweet hands, guided to the couch. Jimin is quick to sit down, neat and elegant, and he smiles up at Jungkook, reaching for his hand again. 

“Would you like to sit in my lap and feed from my wrist? I think that would be the best, baby.” 

Jungkook swallows thickly. Nods and slowly lowers himself into Jimin’s lap and he was right - here, he seems tiny, his muscles nothing as Jimin coos, strokes his hair. He melts against him, pressing his forehead to Jimin’s throat, watching through wide eyes as the vampire bites firmly into his wrist, pulling away when a steady trickle begins. He offers his dripping wrist to Jungkook with a smile, blood staining his teeth and he smells… sweet. 

Jimin is sweet. Jungkook sucks, swallows deeply as his eyes drip closed, as he melts against the vampire, grips tightly at his wrist. It tastes good, settling his churning stomach, settling his anxious mind and he finds himself drinking until he’s just gently gumming at Jimin’s arm, brain a melted puddle. 

He barely notices when the vampire tugs his arm away, presses a kiss to Jungkook’s forehead and cuddles him close. Doesn’t notice but welcomes when Taehyung slides on the couch next to him, making Jimin groan as he squeezes onto his lap, loops his arms around Jungkook. 

Doesn’t notice when Namjoon enters the room after an hour of his post-feed nap, but does notice the hand that strokes his head, the endeared chuckle as Namjoon looks over their cuddle pile. 

Sires. 

There are so many of them. All around Jungkook, all comforting, all blankets, all protecting. He reaches out a weak hand, whines until Hoseok takes his hand and intertwines their fingers. 

They’re all his. 

----

The couch is comfortable. Very much so. And it’s nice to be out of his room, if Jungkook is honest. He doesn’t feel like he has to curl into a tiny ball, that he has to hide, no, he feels comfortable here, laid out over the couch like a cat, curling a pillow to his chest. He’s been dozing on and off for the entire afternoon, purring as his sires, the coven, have passed by him, patting through his hair briefly each time. 

Yoongi has even sat with him, cradled his head on his lap, and traced the fat of Jungkook’s cheeks as he had dozed off again. And when he had woken, Yoongi had also fallen asleep on the couch, something rare Taehyung has whispered as he had crept past, because grown vampires usually don’t sleep - which means for Yoongi-Hyung to fall so it meant he had to be extremely comfortable. 

That made Jungkook swell a little in pride, nuzzle his cheek into Yoongi’s lax knee as Taehyung had bustled off to get Jimin, Hoseok, so they could all drink in the adorable sight. 

But now he’s alone, head resting on a cushion as he still slips in and out of the realm of sleep, body warm and comfortable and Jungkook simply just doesn’t feel like moving. Not at all. 

Not even when he hears clinking in the kitchen, the overwhelming sense of Seokjin washing over him. Like warm water, a bubble bath over his skin, he can just sense his sire is there. Sense where they all are, actually - that Namjoon is upstairs in the laundry, seemingly has been for twenty minutes now. He wonders if his sire has broken the washing machine. 

“Hey there, sleepy,” He hears someone coo and he stretches out happily, eyes fluttering as he feels Seokjin stroke through his hair, the vampire squatting down in front of him, “You’ve been napping all afternoon. Is it nice? You comfortable?”

“Clearly,” Jungkook slurs, leaning into the soft touch with a happy sigh, his toes almost wriggling in delight. Seokjin chuckles, curls a strand of hair around his finger to make it into a sweet curl. 

“Can I get anything for you?” 

The nestling hums, mouth drawing into a pout as he considers it. Something prickles at the edge of his brain, a faint memory, and before he can stop himself, he’s asking about it. 

“Hoseok-Hyung… he had a hot drink the other day. In the kitchen. It smelt really, really nice. What was it?” 

Seokjin blinks, hand pausing in place, brow furrowing. 

“He did not. Hoseok-ah did not drink blood hot chocolate around you, oh dear lord.” 

“Blood hot chocolate?” Jungkook’s eyes are sparkling, mouth opening a little in wonder as he considers it, “Can I have some? Please, sire? ” 

He doesn’t even notice he has said it. It doesn’t even register as something out of the ordinary. It’s natural. Right. 

Seokjin makes a choked sound, as if he’s dying and Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together in concern, reaching out to pop his sire’s cheek. The vampire captures his hand and squeezes it, voice coming out in a dramatic drawl. 

“We had to forcefully wean Taehyung off the stuff when he was a nestling, god, not you too, baby, you’re falling for the chocolatey rich goodness of the dark side!” 

Jungkook giggles, watching as Seokjin flails dramatically, eyes wide. Eventually, though, his sire seems to calm a little, looking at him through soft, endeared eyes. 

“But since you’ve asked so nicely, and you’re my sweet little one… maybe one small mug wouldn’t hurt.” 

He giggles again, watching through wide, glossed eyes as Seokjin rises, moves back to the kitchen. A few minutes of clinking later, the sound of a kettle boiling, and the vampire is reappearing with a small mug in hand. He helps Jungkook sit up and then hands it to him, warning him carefully that it’s hot. 

The first sip is heaven. It’s thick and delicious, sweet and rich and the taste of blood isn’t overwhelming and by lord, it’s better than anything Jungkook has ever had - even when he was human. Hungrily, he drinks at it, giggling through his teeth as he watches Seokjin’s face fall into something playfully horrified. 

“Not another one of my nestlings! Taken by blood chocolate!” He wails dramatically and Jungkook just takes another sip, amused and giggling into the thick liquid. 

That’s when something crashes upstairs, an awful sound of water gurgling moments later. Seokjin’s nostrils flare. 

“He did not! Kim Namjoon!” 

----

The next time Jungkook calls someone who is not Namjoon “sire”, it simply slips from his mouth, naturally, and it feels right. More than just right, it feels intended, instinctual.

Like there’s never been anything so right in the world. 

He’d been playing a board game in the living with Taehyung, Hoseok, whining in dismay as he was very clearly losing and Taehyung was having a fun time gloating, a cheeky smile on his face as he yet again, caused Jungkook to be put further behind in the ranking. 

“ Hyung!” He had whined, face a little red as his feet had kicked out and Hoseok was laughing, almost spilling their shared cup of blood chocolate, “ Sire! That’s not fair!” 

The realization of what he had just said hit him like a truck. He had stiffened, frozen, almost afraid of what Taehyung’s reaction would be, and yet…. His sire had just laughed, poked his tongue out at Jungkook as Hoseok had urgently tried to stabilise the mug on the shaking table. 

“You just gotta get good, Jungkook-ah!” 

Not even a flinch at the call. At the name. 

It was right. 

It was so, so right, even more, right when Jungkook had kissed Hoseok’s cheek afterward, thanked him for allowing him into Seokjin’s secret stash of blood chocolate (which he’d already hidden away from Jungkook). 

“Thank you, sire.” 

It was right. 

It was meant to be. 

Jungkook was allowed to. 

They were his. 

All of them. They’re all Jungkooks. 

And when he’s cradled to Namjoon’s bare chest - suckling on a wound on his throat, drinking deeply - it’s here that Jungkook feels content. Sire, sire, sire. Not just one, but more. They’re all. He swallows deeply, shivering happily at the warmth, at the soft hand that is rubbing circles on the back of his spine. 

It’s terribly intimate, feeding here whilst Taehyung dozes in a nap just to the left, tired out from playing a certain card game with Jungkook for hours upon hours. The cards are still here, strewn out over the bed, Jungkook can feel them as he shifts his knees slightly, moves to disconnect his mouth from Namjoon’s throat. 

“Full?” The vampire asks with a soft sigh, running his fingers through Jungkook’s hair. 

“ Sire.” 

“Yes?”

Jungkook just lets out a pleased hum and pressed his face to Namjoon’s collarbone, letting his eyes close as the feels the pulse of the blood working its way down into his body. His sire seems a little confused, but doesn’t question it, just continues to rub those gentle circles into his back, traces his fingers down Jungkook’s spine as he settles into a blood-induced doze. 

He’s not entirely sure what happened to him, how he ultimately ended up here - Namjoon has yet to speak of his accident to him, even though Jungkook is growing stronger by the day. He knows he’ll have to ask about it eventually, and investigated the blacked-out areas of his brain but… he’s safe. 

Jungkook is safe here. 

He has six sires, six vampires who protect him, feed him, would probably be willing to die for him. 

Home. 

It’s home. 

----

It’s dark when Jungkook wakes, still hazy from sleep. And not day dark - the heavy curtains are always closed to save his delicate skin from the scorching sunlight, but you can still see the smidges of light from underneath. But Jungkook can’t see that, as he stares at the curtains through slitted eyes, almost unwilling to move from his comfortable position. 

It’s… nighttime? 

The house is eerily silent. Normally, there is the comfortable shuffle of his sires moving around, doing their little chores but… it’s purely quiet. Jungkook narrows his eyes, slowly feels around the bed, searching for that familiar body as he tries to think of where they would all be. 

Ah. 

Taehyung-Hyung did mention that whilst most of them don’t sleep very much, Jimin and himself do sleep a decent amount in comparison as they are still relatively young vampires. He’d mentioned something about the older vampires enjoying the closeness of their sleep, would lie in bed with them and cuddle them to ensure that they felt safe, secure. Is that where they all are?

There’s a cuddle pile somewhere without Jungkook?!

Now that, that is illegal. 

His searching fingers have bumped into a still, cool body and Jungkook releases a breath of relief at realizing that Namjoon is still in bed with him. The older vampire doesn’t really sleep, he just says he lays there with his eyes closed to ponder in his own thoughts for hours upon end (Jungkook suspects he’s actually asleep, regardless of the fact that he has no need for it).

He prods his sire with a gentle finger, listening to the way Namjoon instantly shuffles awake, rolls onto his side to face Jungkook. He can see his outline in the dark, the blink of his eyes as his sire rouses to his attention. 

“Sire?” 

“Why are you awake, baby?” Namjoon asks gently, voice rough as he reaches over to cup Jungkook’s throat, “It’s not morning yet. You should go back to sleep.” 

That sounds nice, it really does, but…. But Jungkook wants to sleep with the rest of them. With his other sires, together, curled in a warm pile. He bites at his bottom lip, daring to lift his dark gaze to where he thinks Namjoon’s eyes are. 

“Where… where is everyone else?”

“Everyone else?” Namjoon echoes, his fingers lightly rubbing Jungkook’s jawline, “I- well, let me see, I think they’re all in the nesting room, darling.” 

“The nesting room.” 

“Uh huh,” His sire yawns, bones cracking as he stretches, “It’s like… the main bedroom of the house. Where we like to nest. I think Jiminie and Taehyungie are asleep right now.” 

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip again and abruptly makes up his mind. 

“Can… can we go?” 

“Huh?” Namjoon sits up a little straight, shock evident in his tone, “You… you want to go to the nesting room, baby? With everyone else?” 

“Uh huh,” Jungkook nods uselessly, biting at one of his fingers, “I want.. Want to cuddle with everyone, sire. Want to sleep with Jiminie-Hyung, Taehyungie-Hyung…. Sleep while they actually sleep too.” 

A heavy thunk fills the room, Namjoon’s dark body disappearing from the bed as he must fall onto the floor, and it sounds heavy like it hurt, and Jungkook grimaces, flinches in on himself. But the vampire is on his feet just as quickly, switching on the dim side lamp as he brushes himself off, offers Jungkook a sheepish smile. 

He looks excited. 

“Of course. Come on then, let’s go!” 

He sounds excited too, practically skips out the door as Jungkook sleepily drags himself off the bed, stumbles toward the open doorway. Namjoon is there, waiting for him, twisting their hands together and tugging the nestling down the dark corridor. The picture frames loom, the grandfather clock ticking in the distance but… Jungkook isn’t afraid. Not in the slightest. 

He holds his breath as Namjoon stops, slowly twists a doorknob. The door is heavy, heavy as Namjoon pushes it open slowly with his hip, beckoning for Jungkook to squeeze into the room. 

It’s dark in there too, smells nice. A cumulative of all their scents, tangled together, their presences so, so hot on Jungkook’s mind. He can see the looming outline of a massive, four-poster bed, can see the faint lump of sheets coiled there, people and-

“Namjoon-ah?” Seokjin’s voice calls curiously, and Jungkook can see the eldest vampire lifting himself up onto his elbows, looking in their direction. The door clicks closed behind them and Namjoon presses a palm to his lower back, presses him toward the bed. 

“The baby wanted to sleep with his nestmates.”

“ Oh,” Seokjin says, but it’s a whisper this time, quiet as Jungkook’s knees knocked onto the edge of the bed. Namjoon taps his lower back again, urging him forward, and even though he’s a little nervous, Jungkook clambers onto the bed, crawls forward slowly on his hands and knees. 

His fingers meet coiled flesh, feet curled together, limbs intertwined, and someone grunts quietly as Jungkook crawls over them, blindly searching for a place to lie down. There’s a desperate tugging in his chest, almost an instinctual urge, a whine bubbling from his mouth as he crawls forward just a little more, hand meeting soft bedding this time. 

“It’s okay,” He hears Seokjin murmur and his limbs turn to jelly as his knee meets the bedding too, “There you go, you found your spot, baby.” 

Indeed he has, because his body is slumping forward, one of his elbows jabbing into someone as he settles down. His body seems to fit perfectly into the space, curling around the body in front of him, settling in easily. His elbow though has hit someone behind him, and they grunt, clearly waking up from their restful haze. 

“It’s just Jungkook-ah, Yoongi-Hyung,” Namjoon’s voice whispers, the bed creaking as he must crawl on too. 

“Jungkook-ah?” Yoongi echoes, questioning, and suddenly there are arms curling around him, a body wrapping around him like a snake, and Jungkook purrs. He feels Yoongi nuzzling into the back of his throat, his sire rumbling happily as he throws his leg over Jungkook’s hip.

There’s another creak as Namjoon settles somewhere else on the bed, Jungkook can hear Seokjin’s grunt, so his sire must have settled next to him, but there’s nothing more to think about there, because he noses forward, arms looping around the snoozing body in front of him. 

It’s Jimin, soft and asleep, body warm, and Jungkook can feel the rumbling purr that explodes from his sire’s chest as he curls tighter around him. 

They’re all together. 

Together, together.

And it feels right. 

It feels right as Jungkook melts, as sleep once again casts a strong hand over his body, hazing his senses as Yoongi nuzzles at the nape of his neck, right at the baby hair there. It’s home, home as he hears the light snores of the sleeping vampires, the rustle as Hoseok seems to awaken a little, reaches over Yoongi to rustle Jungkook’s hair. 

Home, home, home. 

(Jungkook doesn’t return to that spare bedroom again, no, he’s found his place, found his spot in the nesting room, and, that is his room, the one that is meant for him, twisting into his chest like a vice.) 

He’s happy. 

Nothing else matters but the kiss Yoongi presses to the side of his throat, the tender rub as Jimin shuffles back into his embrace. 

Home. 

He’ll stay.