Chapter Text
“Aww, is the baby bat pouting?”
“Stop calling me that!”
Yoongi sighs and turns a strip of meat on the grill. “Here we go,” he mutters to the sizzling pork.
In less time than it takes him to flip another piece, the commotion spills into the kitchen. Jungkook, with impressively pink cheeks, is first, followed closely by Jimin—grinning and dressed in a gauzy top that looks like it was fed through a woodchipper. Hoseok and Seokjin are next, lagging behind a pace or two, eyebrows raised. Their matching black suits are simple, but Yoongi has no doubt they’re part of some hot-shot designer’s upcoming collection.
“It’s not like the clubs you’re used to,” Seokjin says. “You would be bored in five minutes. Probably less.”
With Jimin there? Not likely. He is the party. But points to Seokjin for trying.
“Jungkook-ah, I know you’re disappointed—” Hoseok attempts before he’s cut off.
“I’m an adult, hyung,” Jungkook spits, retreating to a corner by the spice cabinet. “Not a toddler. Not a baby.” He scowls at Jimin. “I can handle myself.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jimin grabs a blood bag from the refrigerator and hops up on the counter. Yoongi groans as he slices into it with a dagger-sharp fang.
“Jimin-ah, can we not do this?”
Too late.
Jimin holds the bag out, a coppery tang seeping into the air. Jungkook licks his lips and sways toward Jimin. He stops when he catches himself doing it, backpedaling quickly. A couple more steps and he’ll be in the cabinet.
“Smells good, doesn’t it?” Jimin asks, sipping from the bag. “Now imagine being in a room that’s full of blood bags, except they’re warm. And human. All heated up, the perfect temperature for a nice bite. Could you control yourself then?”
A hint of deep red blooms in Jungkook’s dark irises. A wave of hunger that’s not his own slams into Yoongi, and he grips the tongs tighter.
“Come here, sweetheart,” he calls to Jungkook. “I made your favorite, see?” Yoongi shuffles to the side to show him the crispy meat even though he’s surely caught the scent, open blood bag or not.
“S-samgyeopsal?” he asks, tongue catching on his growing teeth.
“That’s right.”
Jungkook pushes away from the corner and walks up to Yoongi, his eyes big and starry, focused on the food cooking on the grill.
“So, the baby does listen,” Jimin coos, waving his half-finished bag around. Blood splatters on the floor. A few drops land on Jungkook’s bunny slippers and the leg of his baggy sweats.
Yoongi darts forward. Jungkook hisses and swipes at Jimin with his tiny claws extended, connecting with nothing but air as Yoongi pulls him out of range. Seokjin hauls Jimin off the counter, and Hoseok plants himself between the two pairs, ready to intercept Jungkook in case he wriggles out of Yoongi’s grasp—which won’t happen, but Yoongi appreciates the gesture. Hoseok is no stranger to wrangling young vampires.
Yoongi is only slightly rusty.
“That’s enough teasing for tonight,” Seokjin says, taking Jimin by the hand.
“You know better than to rile up someone so new,” Hoseok reminds him, ushering them both to the door and sending an apologetic glance Yoongi’s way.
“I was just playing with him.” Jimin pushes out his bottom lip. It’s no wonder he has Seokjin and Hoseok wrapped around his little finger.
“I know,” Yoongi says. Unfortunately, the line between goofing off and picking a fight is sliver-thin with Jungkook right now. Yoongi brushes his vampling’s long, wavy hair out of his face. “What do you say, love?”
A growl builds in Jungkook’s throat, high-pitched and wobbly, about as intimidating as an alley kitten. Yoongi tugs gently on the band of black velvet circling his neck.
“Hush. Apologize to your hyungs.”
Jungkook deflates, the mini flare of aggression melting out of him. “I’m sorry.”
Seokjin and Hoseok nod their acceptance and exchange a round of goodbyes. Jimin waves and blows a kiss to Jungkook, then the mated trio slips out of the kitchen—off to unleash chaos elsewhere, hopefully.
Yoongi pulls up a stool by the counter. “Have a seat.”
Jungkook plops onto it with a huff, hands tucked into the sleeves of his hoodie. While Yoongi waits for the flood of tangled emotions spilling into him to slow and unwind, he slips a spare hair tie off his wrist and gathers Jungkook’s silky locks into a ponytail. He braces for a whine or more hissing, but Jungkook sits quietly, a disgruntled lump of putty in Yoongi’s hands.
“I can tell you’re hungry, so let’s get that belly filled up, hmm?”
Jungkook just nods, so Yoongi takes that as the go-ahead to scoop a small mountain of rice into a bowl and gather the rest of the meal. He pauses before assembling the first wrap.
“Open your mouth for me.”
Again, he half-expects Jungkook to resist, but his lips part easily. Yoongi doesn’t miss the barely contained wince. Jungkook’s discomfort has been a growing thrum since he woke up, bleeding into Yoongi until his own teeth were complaining.
Yoongi carefully examines Jungkook’s gums. They’re red and raw where his fangs have dropped and receded too many times, irritating the sensitive skin.
“I know they’re sore, little one. I’ll put some ointment on them after dinner, okay?”
“M’kay.”
That goop Namjoon found in the Fledgling Care aisle during their last shopping trip is a lifesaver.
He plops a piece of meat on a perilla leaf, adds some of Seokjin’s homemade kimchi and a smear of ssamjang, and folds it into a neat bundle. The less biting Jungkook has to do, the better.
Jungkook opens his mouth, and Yoongi pops the food inside, ignoring the tickle of warmth in his gut when Jungkook’s tongue swipes his fingers. He chews gingerly, a hint of a smile blossoming on his pretty face after he swallows.
“Is it good, my love?”
“Mmhmm.”
Human food won’t give him the nutrition he needs anymore, but it still tastes good. And he’ll continue to crave it for a while. Yoongi seems to recall that newly turned vampires, and even ones that are longer in the tooth—coughSeokjincough—find it comforting. A callback to their pre-immortal lives.
Which for Jungkook, wasn’t that long ago.
Yoongi offers him rice next, maneuvering the spoon to avoid Jungkook’s tender teeth. They work their way through the food, Jungkook eating with gusto until his stomach starts to protest. Yoongi polishes off the rest.
“Hyung is the best cook,” Jungkook says softly, looking at Yoongi like he fed him a meal fit for a king.
“Think so?”
“I know so.”
“Well, don’t tell Seokjin, or we’ll both be toast.” Their nest isn’t big enough for two top chefs.
Jungkook giggles, breathy and sweet. First time he’s done that today. Yoongi grins at him and fixes his sagging ponytail.
“I missed you.”
“Hmm? I was only in the kitchen.”
“No, earlier.” Despite Yoongi’s efforts, several strands of hair escape the tie and fall over Jungkook’s eyes. “You left for a bit.”
Oh. He made a quick run to the store with Jimin and Taehyung. But he distinctly recalls tucking Jungkook in for a nap first. And staying by his side until he drifted off into dreamworld.
Yoongi’s eyebrows draw together. “You were asleep, dove.”
“Was I? It didn’t feel like it usually does.”
“How is that?”
“There was—” He stops to chew on his lip, grimacing when his tooth catches in the double silver hoops there. Yoongi likes how cool they are against his mouth when they kiss. “It’s weird. I can’t explain it, but a space inside me where something is supposed to be and it’s not? And I got really cold.”
That’s . . . different.
“How do you feel now?”
Jungkook brightens. “Fine. You’re here with me.”
Reading a fledgling’s emotions and sensing their physical presence, or lack thereof, is standard sire privilege. But for Jungkook to detect him, too? Yoongi hasn’t turned anyone since he was in his early hundreds—which seems like eons ago—but he doesn’t remember this being part of the experience.
It’s not a bad thing, just odd.
“Did it cause you pain?” The thought sets off an ache in Yoongi’s chest.
“It was uncomfortable, but it didn’t hurt, no.”
“Okay. Tell me if that ever changes.”
Jungkook nods. “I will, hyung.”
“Good boy. So.” Yoongi grabs a napkin and wipes a smear of sauce from Jungkook’s cheek. “Want to fill me in on what happened earlier?”
He picked up the gist of the argument while he was cooking—enhanced vamp senses are both a blessing and a curse—but he needs to hear Jungkook’s explanation.
“They’re going clubbing,” Jungkook mutters. “I thought it would be fun if we went, too.”
“And?”
“They said no. That I’m not ready.” He turns his wide puppy eyes on Yoongi, wielding them like a weapon. “I can do it, hyung. I won’t fang out, promise.”
Bold words from someone who hasn’t even had his fangs for a month yet.
“Baby,” Yoongi soothes, cupping Jungkook’s jaw and running his thumb across his flawless skin.
Cue the pout. “Not a baby.”
“Yes, you are. You’re mine. My little prince.”
Yoongi’s blood stirs, heat firing in his veins. If anyone was idiotic enough to try to take Jungkook from him, he’d tear them into tiny pieces and toss them around the room like confetti.
Jungkook’s pupils dilate as he leans into Yoongi’s touch. “Y-yours.” Yoongi nods. Jungkook does, too. “Yes, Sire.”
Sire.
A pleased half-growl, half-purr reverberates off the kitchen tile. After a moment or two, Yoongi realizes it came from him. “That’s right.”
“And you’re mine, too?”
“Of course.” He steps closer and pulls Jungkook into his arms. “I know you think you’re ready to go out, and I’m proud of you for being so brave, but your hyungs . . . they’re not wrong.” Jungkook tucks his face into Yoongi’s neck. It doesn’t quite muffle his whine. “Shh. Humans are hard to be around when you’re new, especially crowds—an all-you-can’t-eat buffet. And other vampires will demand your respect and obedience.”
A fledgling is expected to be collared and kept on a tight leash, real or metaphorical, until they’re fully in control of themselves. A rogue is a stain on the elite, pristine society the clans have created.
If an elder heard Jungkook mouthing off, they’d have him punished. Or make Yoongi do it.
Yoongi shudders. He’d rather be whipped raw.
“When you’re more used to this life, we’ll go to all the places you love and do whatever we want. Dance, drink, eat, sing, feed, fuck.” He rubs Jungkook’s back as he melts into him. “For now, I need you to be good for me, okay? No fighting with your hyungs. If you get frustrated or upset or pissed, we’ll work through it.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
Yoongi blinks. That went smoother than he’d imagined. Almost too easy. But with Jungkook soft and pliant in his hold, nosing at his throat, he’s not going to complain.
“Mmhmm.”
A stubby, blunt fang scrapes Yoongi’s neck, just shy of his carotid.
Now for the tricky part. A feeding.
“Thirsty, love?”
Jungkook whimpers but manages a tiny nod. “I wish I was better at this,” he whispers.
“It’ll get easier once your teeth finish growing.” In their current state, Jungkook’s fangs couldn’t puncture much of anything, let alone a vein.
Yoongi slowly settles Jungkook back onto his stool and hunts down a coffee cup. It’s a choice between Taehyung’s teddy bear mug, Namjoon’s “Plant Dad” thermos, and Hoseok’s—or is it Seokjin’s?—“Born to Slay (But Not That Way)” cup with a drawing of a stake in a red crossed-out circle, like those used in No Smoking signs. He goes with that one. It’s goofy and will probably make Jungkook laugh.
He pours most of a blood bag into it and puts it in the microwave. Jungkook’s reflection in the glass is swinging his feet, thumping his heels on the rungs of the stool. Yoongi rubs his own belly as it flip-flops between roiling hunger and queasiness. It’s been doing that a lot lately.
The microwave beeps. Jungkook’s legs stop swaying.
Yoongi tests the blood with his pinky—not too hot, good consistency—and sticks a straw in it, stirring a few times.
“Here we go.”
Jungkook takes the mug with shaky hands and stares at it. He snorts as he reads the caption, but then his eyes shift to a deep crimson, matching the contents of the cup. “It smells . . . strong. Is that a thing? Like espresso, but for blood?”
Yoongi grins. “It’s fresh.”
“Ah.”
“Tell me if it’s not warm enough.”
“Seems fine.” Yoongi presses himself to Jungkook’s side, slipping an arm around his waist. His sour stomach eases a little. “I can do this,” Jungkook adds in a voice so tiny Yoongi wouldn’t have heard it if he weren’t a vampire. “I’ll do it for you.”
“I’ll do it, hyung. I want to.”
“My world is different from yours, baby,” Yoongi said as he gazed at his boyfriend across the pillow they were sharing. Not because they only had the one. They just always seemed to be drifting closer.
Jungkook’s was probably on the floor anyway. They’d had kind of a wild night. Sex. Big confessions. More sex. Even bigger life (and death) choices.
“It won’t matter because you’re in it.”
Yoongi laughed, pulling his little human in for a kiss, nipping Jungkook’s bottom lip with his fangs. “You’re really ready for that? Forever?” He hissed when Jungkook bit him back with his adorable bunny teeth. “There are no takebacks.”
“I know.” Jungkook looked at him steadily, like he’d been walking the earth as long as Yoongi had instead of twenty-six short years. “I would never ask for one. Let me do this for you. For us.”
It was impossible to deny him, especially when he had Yoongi’s whole ancient-but-still-beating heart in the palm of his hand.
“Jungkook-ah.”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.” It wasn’t the first time he’d said the words, but they still tingled on his tongue.
Jungkook beamed. “Say it again, hyung.”
“I love you.”
“Hyung, can I—can I have some more, please?”
Jungkook’s request rattles Yoongi out of the past. He places the memory carefully back on its shelf and takes the empty cup.
“Absolutely.”
The rest of the blood goes down quickly while Yoongi pets Jungkook’s hair and keeps up a steady stream of encouragement.
“Well done, sweetness,” he says when the last drop disappears. “How was that?”
“Okay. I’m a little better.”
“Not so snarly?”
Jungkook smiles, tugging on his lip with his teeth. His cheeks are freshly pink again. Yoongi loves to see them like that. Loves being the cause of it too. “No. But . . . ”
“Aigoo, what’s that face?”
A shiver rolls down Yoongi’s spine as he gets a barrage of want want want from Jungkook. He tips his head and bares his throat. “Please?”
Yoongi’s on him in an instant, his normally sluggish pulse pounding at an almost human pace. He tears the flimsy collar from Jungkook’s neck and buries his fangs deep.
He doesn’t drink—though Jungkook tastes finer than the world’s most expensive whiskey. His blood is smooth and rich and just the slightest bit sweet. A heady combination.
But right now it’s the warmth he’s craving.
With his teeth snug in Jungkook’s vein, the urge to protect cherish keep grows even stronger. Yoongi growls softly and holds onto Jungkook tightly, drawing a ragged moan from his fledgling.
It’s one of his favorite sounds.
He can feel Jungkook inside himself, tucked in the pocket of his heart. He’s settled, utterly calm, his emotions lapping gently against Yoongi’s wilder ones.
He could lose himself in Jungkook so easily. Let time slip by, forgotten. It’s meaningless anyway. It can’t touch them. Can’t kill them.
As long as they have each other, nothing else matters.
A full-body shudder from Jungkook startles Yoongi out of his daze. Breaks the spell.
He retracts his fangs and seals the neat wounds with a swipe of his tongue. Jungkook sags against him, spacey, his eyes barely open.
“How was that?”
Jungkook tries to fight off a yawn, but it wins in the end. “S’good.”
“Yeah?” Yoongi guides his head down to rest on his shoulder. His little one could probably use another nap. Newborn vampires need more sleep to help their bodies adjust after the transition.
“Mmm. T-thank you, Sire.”
There it is again—the word that puffs up Yoongi’s chest and sends him reeling.
“Anything for you, precious,” he murmurs. “Close your eyes and relax. Hyung”—no, wait—“Sire will take care of you.”
And that’s the exact moment Jungkook lets go. Puts himself fully in Yoongi’s hands.
It’s a beautiful, curious thing, the trust he’s been given.
Yoongi will figure this whole thing out. Assemble the pieces of the puzzle. (He has to collect them all first.)
And if he doesn’t, he’ll find someone who can.
For now, he’s content to cradle Jungkook in his arms, his low rumble of a purr mixing with his vampling’s snuffles and snores.