Archive of Our Own

“Are you free this weekend?” Dejun asks, casually fishing the last prawn from the hotpot broth, not realizing he’s about to change Renjun’s life irrevocably.

He says it in the same tone he uses when he’s trying to convince Renjun to marathon the Twilight movies with him. Again. Rejection sits ready on the tip of Renjun’s tongue. He hates vampires. He especially hates vampires who play baseball. If Renjun wanted to spend any amount of time watching sweaty people chase a ball, he would sooner agree to one of Chenle’s Curry Nights than be subjected to Dejun’s poor taste in media. At least that way, he’d get to visit Daegal.

Dejun watches him carefully as he chews. “I know what you’re thinking,” he says.

Renjun frowns. “No, you don’t.”

He doubts Dejun does. They’ve been friends since that fateful day they met in the romance section of their high school library, and Dejun has never given any indication that he’s noticed Renjun’s disdain for his favorite book-slash-movie franchise. Either that, or he doesn’t care. By now, Renjun knows most of the lines of Breaking Dawn: Part Two by heart, and not through any choice of his own.

“You think this has something to do with Twilight,” Dejun says. Renjun opens his mouth to protest, but Dejun holds up his chopsticks to silence him. “Hear me out. The campus bar is throwing a Halloween party. Drinks are ten percent off.” He leans forward, a look of utmost seriousness on his face. “I heard the bartenders will be dressing up as vampires.”

Renjun closes his mouth. Dejun hasn’t gotten laid in a while and it shows. It’s kind of funny. Renjun hasn’t gotten laid in just as long, but that’s less funny. If Renjun is going to bring someone home, it won’t be someone wearing a tacky costume with fake teeth or spending their weekend on campus willingly. Renjun doesn’t even enjoy drinking all that much.

Dejun’s eyes are bright. “What if we see someone as hot as Edward Cullen?”

Years of friendship have taught Renjun not to give in to Dejun too easily. “He’s not my type,” Renjun rebuffs, which isn’t a lie. Edward Cullen is nice to look at, but nothing about him makes Renjun’s heart race. He’s a little too predictable. And he plays baseball, which basically makes him a jock.

Dejun looks like he wants to reach across the table and shake Renjun. But years of friendship seem to have taught him a few tricks of his own. “I promise to stop calling Moomin an oversized rat,” Dejun offers. “And first round of drinks are on me.”

Vampire hunting with Dejun isn’t high on Renjun’s list of ways he’d like to spend Halloween, but he supposes there are worse places to be. Last year, he spent Halloween with Yangyang, which ended in him getting vomit all over his favorite sneakers and nursing a hangover from hell the next day. At least Dejun is good company and knows his limits. Even if he doesn’t know how to put some respect on Moomin’s name.

“Fine,” Renjun relents. If he says no, Dejun will probably ask Guanheng, and Guanheng is a terrible wingman. “But I’m only staying for one round of drinks.”

🩸

Sometime after his third drink, Renjun loses sight of Dejun.

In his defense, it’s not hard to lose sight of him when he’s wearing black. Everyone at this Halloween party is wearing black. The leather jacket and pushed-back hair to channel Dejun’s inner Bella Swan don’t help at all; the only way to stand out in a crowd like this is to dress in neon, or wear a full Lightning McQueen suit like that one guy who’s a walking safety hazard, or be as hot as the bartender Renjun has been ogling for the better part of the night.

Jaemin is his name. Renjun knows this because he’s been eavesdropping on every conversation that goes on behind the bar. Jaemin looks like he was born to play the role he’s in—black hair and pale skin and pointed teeth, taking his eyes off the drinks he’s mixing to talk to customers like he’s been doing this for a hundred years. Renjun has never seen a guy who looks so good in a cape and smokey eye makeup. Jaemin has had Renjun’s attention for the better part of the night, and he hasn’t even spoken to him once.

“Can I, um, get you another drink?”

Renjun tears his eyes away from Jaemin to look at the bartender addressing him. Jisung, Jaemin had called him. He looks so wary that Renjun thinks for a moment he’s done something terrible to intimidate him.

Mind sluggish from the alcohol, Renjun shakes his head. He watches as Jisung hurries away to help with a different order.

There are three bartenders on shift, which is more than Renjun usually sees at a time. From what he’s overheard, the last bartender, Jeno, had been called in today in anticipation of the large volume of partygoers. And to help keep an eye on Jisung, who gets nervous around crowds and has already broken three glasses. A complete contrast to the way Jaemin carries himself, all liquid grace and deft fingers as he fulfills order after order. Renjun wonders what those fingers would feel like—

He forces himself to stop staring. He needs to stop thinking before he’s completely drunk, or he might end up embarrassing himself. Jaemin is way hotter than Edward Cullen. Renjun would point this out to Dejun if he had any idea where Dejun was.

Maybe it’s time to go look for him. A walk will probably do him good after staring at Jaemin for so long. Satisfied with his plan, Renjun hops off the stool he’s sitting on, completely miscalculates the distance from seat to floor, trips over his own feet, and slams his arm against the edge of the counter.

The sudden, sharp pain at the impact forces a soundless gasp from him. Renjun grabs the counter with his other hand to steady himself, feebly turning his arm around to check the damage. He hopes no one saw that. There’s an angry cut along the skin there—nothing serious, but it sure stings like a bitch. Tiny droplets of blood well up from the wound.

“Hey,” says a voice that sends a shiver down Renjun’s spine, and that’s a lot closer than he expects anyone to be. “Are you okay?”

Renjun raises his head slowly. Jaemin is staring at him from behind the counter—or, to be more accurate, staring at his arm. Renjun hadn’t heard him come over. Jaemin’s face looks even more perfect up close, and his voice is so deep that Renjun could drown in it. Getting his blood on the bar counter doesn’t make for the best conversation starter, but Renjun is more panicked over the fact that he’s not sober enough to carry a proper conversation with the most beautiful person in the room.

Jaemin shifts his gaze away from Renjun’s arm. “Beautiful?” he says, breaking into a slow grin that nearly stops Renjun’s heart in his chest. “That’s high praise coming from someone with a face like yours.”

Did I think that out loud? Renjun thinks. And then: Is he flirting with me?

Jaemin’s eyes are back on the injury. “You’re bleeding,” he says. “Give me your arm.”

Renjun stares at him.

“I don’t bite. Promise.” Jaemin’s grin widens, revealing his canines. They don’t look like fake teeth. Unlike Jeno, who was definitely having trouble talking around the plastic in his mouth earlier. Renjun can’t tell if Jaemin is messing with him; there’s something unsettling about him, as attractive as he is. Renjun kind of wouldn’t be opposed to Jaemin biting him. He’s way too drunk for this.

“I’m fine,” Renjun mumbles, cradling his injured arm to his chest. He feels a little underdressed now that he’s talking to Jaemin. Maybe he should have borrowed Dejun’s cat ears and come as a sexy cat like Dejun had tried to convince him. The way Jaemin is looking at him makes Renjun feel light-headed, the blood loss probably not helping. Renjun needs to find Dejun before he passes out for real.

“You’re bleeding,” Jaemin repeats. “Let me—”

Whatever else Jaemin was going to say is drowned out by a small commotion from nearby—another rowdy group of freshmen competing to see who can drink more, Renjun assumes. He doesn’t try to make out what they’re shouting, harsh noise rattling the inside of his skull. Jaemin straightens with a frown, peering behind Renjun to get a look at what’s going on. His eyes go wide.

“Hey,” someone yells from behind Renjun. “Look out!”

Painfully slow, reaction time dulled from drinking, Renjun turns to see what looks like the outline of a car hurtling towards him.

Renjun had never given much thought to how he would die. Old age and sickness seem like reasonable ways to go. Being crushed to death by someone wearing a Lightning McQueen suit at a university Halloween party definitely isn’t. The guy is drunk and off-balance, and given how many people Renjun has seen him mow down tonight just by walking past them, he knows he doesn’t stand a chance. Renjun’s arm had been just the beginning—the rest of him will be splattered across the bar counter in a matter of seconds.

The car is headed straight for him. There isn’t enough time for Renjun to coordinate his limbs in his state, let alone move out of the way. This is it. This is the end. Dejun better find the man of his dreams tonight, for Renjun’s sacrifice to be worth it.

The one thing Renjun does right is that he doesn’t close his eyes to embrace death. If he did, he would have missed the way Jaemin leaps into action—literally leaps over the bar counter like someone out of an action movie, cape fluttering as he lands between Renjun and the oncoming disaster. He moves faster than Renjun has seen anyone move in his life, shielding Renjun with his body—one arm wrapped protectively around his waist, the other thrown out to stop the collision. Renjun flinches as Lightning McQueen barrels straight at them—but the guy is halted in its tracks by Jaemin’s hand. He wobbles for a few precarious seconds before collapsing in a heap on the floor. And then everything is still.

Renjun struggles to form words, heart jackhammering against his ribcage at the close shave. Jaemin is completely unscathed when he removes his hand from Renjun’s waist.

“Are you okay?” he asks for the second time that night.

He’s so close that Renjun can smell him, honey mixed with something faintly floral. Renjun had been five seconds away from making university paper headlines for the most unbecoming death ever—but Jaemin had saved him. Saved him by stopping someone in an oversized costume coming at him at full speed like it was nothing. With one hand. When Jaemin blinks down at Renjun, his eyes look golden.

“I—” Renjun starts, breath caught in his throat at the proximity, but a wave of dizziness hits him so hard that he feels his knees buckle.

The edges of his vision blur before going dark. This time, Renjun doesn’t get to finish his reply.

🩸

“Are you free this weekend?” Renjun asks.

He knows he’s not very good at pretenses, but it’s worth a shot. Sometimes, perseverance will get you places. Renjun also promised to pay for today’s hotpot, so the least Dejun can do is humor him.

It’s been almost a week since Renjun blacked out after having his life saved by the most breathtaking guy dressed as a vampire on Halloween, and Renjun has a problem. The problem is that he hasn’t seen Jaemin since. No amount of asking around has yielded any useful information—like what Jaemin studies or who his friends are—and waltzing back into the bar in the hopes that Jaemin will be on shift seems a bit too bold for someone who’d embarrassed himself so thoroughly on their first meeting. So it’s kind of a problem that’s self-inflicted, but still. Renjun hasn’t stopped thinking about Jaemin and his alluring voice, and strong arms, and a few other things that have been bothering him that he’s trying not to dwell on. It’s come to a point where he thinks he can feel Jaemin’s gaze on him when he’s walking to class, or ordering lunch, or even when he’s about to go to sleep. Which is probably bad and a sign that he should either go back to therapy or do something about this.

Thankfully, Dejun doesn’t seem to have caught on yet. “I was going to watch New Moon this weekend,” he replies absently. Most of his attention is on perfecting the soy sauce to vinegar ratio of his dipping sauce, which he can’t get right because he stubbornly refuses to ask for Renjun’s help. “You know, before cramming season starts.”

“Again?” Renjun says in disbelief, regretting it when Dejun looks up sharply. “I mean,” Renjun backtracks. “It’s totally normal to watch all five Twilight movies twice a year.”

Dejun purses his lips. “What do you want?”

“Drinks on Saturday?” Renjun tries. In cases like these, honesty is the best way to go. Dejun doesn’t really get subtlety. If Renjun skirts around the issue, they’ll either be here all night, or Renjun will find himself in Dejun’s room watching New Moon for the seventh time.

Dejun frowns. “To see that bartender you’re obsessed with?”

“No,” Renjun says. Honesty is overrated and he’s going to do this the hard way. “Can’t we get drinks without it being about some guy? And I’m not obsessed with him.”

“You never ask to get drinks unless there’s something you’re after.” Dejun looks unimpressed. “And don’t make me laugh. I know you asked Chenle to ask everyone in his basketball chat whether they’ve heard of—”

“I think Jaemin is a vampire,” Renjun blurts.

That gets Dejun’s attention. Renjun wishes it was the only reason he said it.

Dejun looks at him before going back to his dipping sauce, which by now has gained enough depth to last at least two meals, yet still isn’t the right color. Not enough sesame oil, probably. “You know,” Dejun says, starting on the tofu. “It’s okay to admit you’re into someone. I know you have commitment issues, but it’s not like you want to marry the guy. He’s just some hot dude you met at a bar. Some hot dude who saved you from—actually, I get it. If I fainted in some guy’s arms like that, I’d construct a narrative around it too.”

Renjun winces. “You didn’t see how fast he was. And how strong. No normal person moves like that. His skin was really cold. And he only talked to me when I was bleeding.”

Dejun doesn’t look convinced. “That doesn’t mean he’s a vampire.”

“Dejun,” Renjun hisses. “He was sparkling. Like the vampires in your dumb movies.”

Dejun looks like he takes offense at that. “Vampires sparkle in the sunlight,” he says. “How do you not know that? Also, you were drunk. He was probably just sweaty.”

Renjun throws down his chopsticks and sits back in his seat. “Fine,” he says sulkily. “Don’t believe me. And don’t come with me to the bar. Stay in and watch your movies and write your self-insert fanfiction while I figure this out.”

“Uncalled for,” Dejun glares at him. “That was one time.”

Dejun writes well, not that Renjun would ever tell him. Renjun has no plan. But avoiding confrontation isn’t going to get him any answers and definitely isn’t going to get him Jaemin’s number, so he decides it’s time to suck it up and finally pay him a visit.

🩸

“How’s your arm?” is the first thing Jaemin says to him.

As it turns out, Jaemin does have a Saturday shift. Unfortunately for Renjun, Jaemin minus the cape and smokey eye makeup looks just as beautiful as he did on Halloween. Renjun had been half-hoping Jaemin would turn out to be unexpectedly normal—if not to dispel Renjun’s suspicions, then at least so that Renjun could hold a conversation with him without his heart feeling like it was about to explode out of his chest.

“It’s fine,” Renjun stutters.

“Sorry I didn’t get to introduce myself last week,” Jaemin says. “I’m Jaemin.”

“I know,” Renjun says, then immediately regrets it. “I mean, I know because I heard your coworkers say it. Not because I—” he decides to cut his losses and move on. “I’m Renjun.”

“Renjun,” Jaemin says. Renjun tries not to stare at his teeth when he smiles. “That’s a pretty name. Can I get you a drink?”

A bar isn’t the most ideal location to try and learn more about someone. For starters, it’s very public. Renjun can’t ask Jaemin any personal questions without anyone overhearing and thinking he’s trying to hit on him, which he definitely isn’t. There’s also the fact that Jaemin is working, which means Renjun couldn’t have his undivided attention if he wanted it. Every few minutes, Jaemin has to disappear to take someone else’s order. Also, given the easy access to alcohol and Renjun’s general poor decision-making skills, getting drunk and embarrassing himself are once again on the horizon.

“I never thanked you for last week,” Renjun feels brave enough to say after one drink.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Jaemin replies as he wipes down a glass. The bar seems to have an endless supply of glasses that need wiping down. “Anyone would have done the same.”

Renjun can’t imagine just anyone catapulting themselves over the bar counter to put themselves between him and imminent doom, but okay. “How come I’ve never seen you around?” Renjun asks. He hopes it doesn’t sound too much like, where have you been my whole life? Because that’s not what he means. Obviously.

“Do you come here often?” Jaemin looks amused. “I’ve been doing shifts for a few months. I’d remember if I saw you.”

Touché. Renjun would probably blush if he were completely sober. “Don’t your shifts go late?” he asks. “How do you get up for early morning lectures?”

“I don’t have any early morning lectures,” Jaemin says.

Jaemin is surprisingly easy to talk to. He’s charming and makes Renjun feel at ease, in the same way that small animals being preyed on probably feel right before they’re eaten. The more Renjun finds out about Jaemin, the less it feels like he knows. As the end of the night draws near, Renjun realizes he’d almost forgotten his original objective. Jaemin certainly looks the part of a vampire with his ethereal features, but visuals aside, nothing about him today is particularly unhuman-like. Maybe Dejun had been right. Maybe Renjun is overthinking.

“What do you major in?” Renjun feels brave enough to ask Jaemin after his second drink.

Jaemin smiles, coy. “What do you think I major in?”

“Business administration,” Renjun slurs. He knows for a fact Jaemin doesn’t major in business administration, because that’s what Chenle majors in.

“Are you picturing me in a suit and tie?” Jaemin teases, which is silly, firstly because his bartending outfit already has him in a shirt and tie, so a suit doesn’t require much of a stretch of the imagination. And secondly, Renjun is absolutely picturing him in a suit and tie anyway. By the time Renjun remembers his question, Jaemin has already vanished to serve someone else, their train of conversation abandoned.

The number of students in the bar shrinks as it gets late. Renjun spends ten minutes scrolling through his contacts list in search of someone who might be less annoyed than Dejun at having to come get him, then spends the next ten minutes composing a text to Dejun that’s appropriately remorseful and least likely to annoy him. It’s made difficult by the way the letters on his keyboard are swimming around on his screen.

“Do you need a ride back to the dorm?” Jaemin asks, right before Renjun hits send. “Jeno said he’d take care of closing up. If you wait a bit, I can drive you.”

And that’s how Renjun finds out Jaemin has a car. It’s slightly battered in a student car kind of way, with a noticeable dent in the door on the driver’s side, but Jaemin looks good behind the wheel and that’s what matters. Renjun spends the short drive looking anywhere but at his glowing side profile.

When they arrive, Jaemin gets out of the car and goes round to open Renjun’s door for him. It’s a good thing he does, because Renjun is more than a little tipsy. He takes Jaemin’s proffered hand and lets Jaemin pull him out of the car, going tense at the feeling of Jaemin’s hand in his.

Jaemin’s touch isn’t just cold. Jaemin’s touch is ice cold.

It’s just like the time Jaemin saved him at the Halloween party. Up close, Jaemin is unrealistically good-looking. He leans in as he pulls Renjun towards him, and for one heart-stopping moment, Renjun thinks Jaemin is going to kiss him.

Instead, Jaemin puts his nose to the crook of Renjun’s neck and inhales deeply. “You smell good,” he breathes, sending tingles across the surface of Renjun’s skin. Renjun doesn’t move, the survival instinct to stay motionless kicking in. Now that no one else is around, the energy between them feels different somehow, the air too charged for Renjun to feel any disappointment. Jaemin’s irises look red when he pulls back. “Take care, little lamb.”

And then he disappears in the direction of the stairs, leaving Renjun a strange combination of drunk, confused, fearful, and turned on as he stands at the entrance to the dorms.

🩸

Renjun visits the bar every weekend for the next month. All in the name of science, of course, and not because he still hasn’t succeeded in getting Jaemin’s number. Between his dwindling funds and blossoming alcoholism, things aren’t looking promising. But Jaemin always looks pleased to see him and gives Renjun a staff discount on drinks, offering Renjun a ride back to the dorm if Renjun stays until closing, which makes it difficult for Renjun to regret his weekly excursions.

The thing is, Renjun doesn’t really date. He likes keeping things neat—occasionally bringing someone home and then never speaking of it again. In freshman year, a mutually beneficial arrangement came to him in the form of Donghyuck, which lasted almost a year before Donghyuck found himself a boyfriend. So the fact that Renjun looks forward to seeing Jaemin each week should probably be more of a warning sign than Renjun treats it as.

“What’s this?” Renjun asks as Jaemin places an unfamiliar drink in front of him that’s definitely not his usual. For one, it’s bright pink.

“Monthly special,” Jaemin says with a cryptic smile. “Try it.”

He’s watching Renjun so intently that Renjun feels himself blush. Renjun weighs the odds of Jaemin poisoning him, decides he’s taken bigger risks, then takes a sip.

It’s less potent than it looks, but still burns on the way down his throat. “It’s… sweet,” Renjun reports.

“Perfect for you, then,” Jaemin says, turning abruptly on his heel and leaving Renjun to choke on his next mouthful.

If Jaemin is leaning into the mysterious persona, he’s doing a pretty good job of it. Possibly too good a job. Renjun has no idea what he’s thinking, ever. He figures Jaemin must like him at least a little, but there’s no true way of telling. For all Renjun knows, Jaemin has a different person each night that he offers strange drinks to, and invades the personal space of to sniff every once in a while, and calls little lamb, which Renjun is sure is a Twilight reference.

The day after midterms are over, Renjun makes Dejun sit down and give him a summary and breakdown of the first Twilight movie. It’s the best he can do without actually having to go through watching it again, and predictably, Dejun agrees. He even recites some of the lines word-for-word as Renjun checks off invisible boxes in his head. By the end of it, Renjun has come to terms with the fact that he may have inadvertently found himself in the role of the protagonist of a teenage romance novel.

“Twilight isn’t for teenagers,” Dejun sniffs. “It’s for young adults. And I think you need to get a grip. Not everything is about vampires.”

“You’re one to talk,” Renjun scowls, picking up the nearest pillow and hurling it at Dejun’s head. It misses, hitting the Breaking Dawn poster on Dejun’s wall instead as Dejun ducks.

So Renjun has come to terms with the fact that he may have inadvertently found himself in the role of the protagonist of a young adult romance novel. And unfortunately, much like Bella Swan, Renjun isn’t very good at avoiding danger. In fact, given that Jaemin is the love interest in this situation, Renjun is more likely than not to charge headfirst into it.

🩸

The university’s blood donation drive is held in the multipurpose hall next to the humanities department. For someone who unironically refers to himself as a Twihard, Dejun doesn’t fare well when it comes to real blood, so Renjun finds himself in the pre-screening area filling out the mandatory health questionnaire alone.

He almost does a double-take when he walks over to submit his forms to the student volunteers and finds none other than Jaemin manning one of the stations.

“What are you doing here?” Renjun asks dumbly as Jaemin waves him over with a dazzling smile. Bright lighting makes Jaemin seem like a completely different person. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make him any less attractive. He’s wearing jeans and a black hoodie with a cat on it, and still manages to look like he walked straight out of a magazine pictorial.

“I’m a volunteer,” Jaemin says, pointing to his lanyard.

“You volunteered to help at a blood donation drive?” Renjun watches in disbelief as Jaemin accepts his papers and taps at a few keys on the laptop in front of him. He never expected to run into Jaemin here, of all places. “Why?”

“I like blood donation drives.” Jaemin answers. “What’s your blood type?”

Jaemin could easily check his papers for this information. Renjun had literally written down his blood type five minutes ago. “O positive,” Renjun says anyway.

“Sexy. Is this your first time donating blood?”

“No.”

“Experienced,” Jaemin notes, his tone making Renjun fidget in his seat. Jaemin’s smile is still in place when he looks up. “You can head over to the screening station to get your blood pressure taken. After that, they’ll show you to the draw station. Have fun.”

Fun isn’t exactly the word he’d associate with getting a needle stuck in him, but Renjun complies, still in a daze. It’s strange seeing Jaemin in a different context to what he’s used to. Renjun can’t say he doesn’t like it. But Jaemin’s choice of hangout seems like a bit too much of a coincidence—if vampires drink human blood, then surely a blood donation drive would be both the best and worst place for them to spend their time.

Renjun contemplates the implications as he sits down to get his blood drawn. It serves as a good distraction. Hypothetically, if a vampire were to volunteer to help at a blood donation drive, it’s not like they’d have free access to the blood, right? It’s kind of like if Renjun were to work at a hotpot restaurant for the day. Does that make Jaemin more or less likely to be a vampire?

“All done,” chirps the girl at his draw station, removing the pressure cuff strapped to Renjun’s arm and handing him a packet of biscuits. “Try to avoid any strenuous activity for the rest of the day, and make sure to drink lots of water. Let me know if you feel dizzy.”

“Thanks,” Renjun says, getting to his feet and instantly feeling the room spin.

This is all Jaemin’s fault, somehow. He’s probably the reason Renjun’s blood pressure reading was higher than usual too, and why his palms have been clammy for the last fifteen minutes. Renjun is given an extra packet of biscuits and sent to sit back down in the pre-screening area. After about a minute, Jaemin himself wanders over to check on him.

“Don’t you have a station to man?” Renjun asks, avoiding eye contact in the interest of maintaining a normal blood flow in his body.

“Not anymore,” Jaemin says. At Renjun’s incredulous look, he adds: “I was due for a break. Do you need a ride back to the dorm?”

The dorm isn’t far, but Renjun perks up anyway. “Did you drive here?”

“No,” Jaemin admits. “But I can still give you a ride.”

Five minutes later finds Renjun on Jaemin’s back, hanging tight like a spider monkey as Jaemin carries him in the direction of the dorm on piggyback. This is just like Twilight, Renjun thinks deliriously, arms wrapped around Jaemin’s neck. Renjun half expects him to start leaping through the trees like in the movie. Jaemin is strong. He’d picked Renjun up like he weighed nothing, and Renjun can’t gauge Jaemin’s body temperature even though he’s pressed up against his back because Renjun feels like he’s burning up. He hopes it isn’t too obvious. The last thing he needs is for Jaemin to feel how rapidly his heart is beating against him. That would just be embarrassing.

The sky is gloomy and overcast; Renjun is relieved to find that Jaemin neither crumbles nor sparkles in what tiny bit of natural sunlight they’re exposed to along the way. Renjun has never been in such direct, close contact with Jaemin before. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to hang on to the last shreds of his sanity by concentrating on the route they’re taking and not the way he feels the muscles in Jaemin’s back move against him with each step. Jaemin’s shoulders are so broad. Fuck. He feels so firm. If Renjun lets himself think too hard about this, things could get uncomfortable real quick.

“You okay?” Jaemin asks.

“Yeah,” Renjun replies faintly. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Can’t have you spilling any more of your blood, can we?”

“It’s your fault,” Renjun mumbles against his neck. “I’m only clumsy when you’re around.”

He feels the vibration through his body when Jaemin laughs. “Do I make you nervous?”

Renjun’s silence is probably answer enough. Jaemin finally slows down as they near their destination, breathing noticeably heavier by the time he deposits Renjun at the entrance to the dorms. His grin is subdued when Renjun disentangles himself, Jaemin extending his hand for Renjun to hold onto as he finds his balance.

“Thanks,” Renjun croaks, unable to look Jaemin in the eye, face burning. This is the second time Jaemin has had to come to his rescue like Renjun is some sort of damsel in distress. If Renjun holds onto Jaemin’s hand for a bit longer than necessary, it’s only because the lack of blood sugar is messing with his head.

“Anytime,” Jaemin says with that same smile that shows off his teeth. Renjun wishes Jaemin would just kiss him already. Or bite him and end his misery.

Sadly, Jaemin does neither. He bids Renjun goodbye with the promise of seeing him on the weekend, and Renjun is left to retreat into his room to take a cold shower and contemplate his life. It’s been over a month since he set out to uncover whether Jaemin is a vampire, and all he’s done is gather suspicious but inconclusive pieces of evidence and fall harder for him. If no one is going to stage an intervention for him, Renjun might just have to take matters into his own hands. What he really needs is to talk to someone who’s good at giving advice, who will be able to evaluate his situation objectively.

Someone who knows nothing about Jaemin, or Twilight, or romance.

Renjun is going to call Chenle.

🩸

“Easy,” Chenle says. “If you think he’s a vampire, all you need to do is test the theory. Drive a stake through his heart. See if he’s repelled by garlic.”

From his tone, Renjun can tell that part of Chenle’s attention is elsewhere—he was probably in the middle of watching basketball reruns when Renjun called. Fortunately, Chenle’s multitasking skills are unparalleled.

Renjun ignores the first suggestion. “How would I know if he’s repelled by garlic?” Pulling up to the bar with a garland would give him away instantly, not to mention be really weird. Renjun might as well ask Jaemin if he’s a vampire outright.

“Cook for him, duh,” Chenle answers. “Guys love that shit. Especially guys who can’t cook. I made tomato eggs for Mark last month and I think he’s still a little in love with—shit.” Renjun moves his phone further from his ear as Chenle lets out a colorful string of curses. “That should’ve been a foul. Give me a break… anyway, what was I saying? No one said vampires are only repelled by raw garlic, so cook him something with lots of garlic in it. If he eats it without a problem, you’ll know he’s not a vampire. He’ll probably think you suck at cooking, but at least you’ll know for sure.”

The vampires in Twilight aren’t repelled by garlic, but Renjun isn’t about to tell Chenle that. Besides, Chenle has a point. There will be no harm in trying, especially since Jaemin could be the kind of vampire that is repelled by garlic. Assuming there are different kinds of vampires. And that vampires are real.

“What if he is a vampire? I don’t want to accidentally poison him.”

“Trust me,” Chenle says. “He’ll smell the garlic a mile away. He’s not going to eat it if he’s a vampire. To be honest, he might not even eat it if he’s human.”

Renjun has no idea when Chenle became an expert on vampire lore, but he sounds convincing enough. Renjun’s cooking abilities are probably on par with Mark’s, but that’s nothing that can’t be worked around. “I’ll give it a go,” Renjun says.

“What’s the problem with him being a vampire, though?” Chenle asks. “You can’t expect me to believe you of all people wouldn’t fuck a vampire.”

Renjun decides it’s time to end the call.

🩸

The first mistake Renjun makes is not enlisting anyone’s help in the kitchen.

It turns out dumplings are harder to make than they look. Renjun mixes up teaspoons and tablespoons, runs out of cooking oil, and nearly sets the place on fire when he takes his eyes off the stove to check the tutorial video he’s following. The hour spent trying to get the consistency of the dough just right goes to waste when the skins break and his dumplings fall apart in the pan. It takes an emergency call to Chenle and enough tears to rival the salt content of his recipe (figuratively, of course) before he’s finally looking at his perfect home-cooked meal. Not dumplings, since he basically had to beg Chenle to help him make something from scratch, but it looks good. It will do the trick.

The second mistake Renjun makes is not checking whether Jaemin is on shift on Mondays.

“Sorry,” Jeno says, looking genuinely apologetic as he locks up for the night. It’s a miracle Renjun even made it to the bar by closing. “Jaemin’s first shift of the week is tomorrow. I can tell him you came by, if you want?” Jeno politely doesn’t ask about the paper bag Renjun is clutching, though he definitely glances at it.

“Actually,” Renjun says, a little desperately. He didn’t make it this far just to fail, especially when there’s no guarantee Chenle will help him a second time. He holds open the bag so that Jeno can get a look at the containers of rice and meat and vegetables inside. “I cooked too much for dinner, and I was going to give Jaemin some. Do you think I could still give it to him?” With luck, Jeno will give him Jaemin’s number, or maybe even point him in the right direction. Renjun hopes this doesn’t seem weird. This is even more embarrassing than having to give the food to Jaemin directly. Renjun might have just offered the entire bag to Jeno instead, if not for all the garlic.

Jeno breaks into a smile. “We’re housemates, actually. I can give it to him for you.”

He holds out his hand to take the bag. Hesitantly, Renjun hands it over. He supposes this is the best possible outcome, given the circumstances.

“This is a lot of food,” Jeno’s eyes crinkle as he peers into the bag. “It looks good.” He leans in, inhaling deeply. Then he goes still. His eyes are wide when he draws his face back.

“What’s wrong?” Renjun asks, heartbeat quick in his chest. “Does it smell bad?”

“No!” Jeno says quickly. “Of course not.” He’s a terrible liar. His eyes are watering, and he looks like a kid trying to cover up a cookie theft after being caught red-handed. “It smells—nice. Really nice. I think Jaemin will love it.”

The garlic should only become apparent after opening the containers—Renjun had checked before leaving his apartment. The first touch of anxiety is starting to spread through him, like the gradual heat from eating too much chili oil. It had never occurred to him that Jeno could be a vampire too. There’s no way Jeno would be able to smell the garlic if he were human.

Jeno clears his throat. “I’ll, um, walk you back to the dorm if you’re headed that way?”

The logical part of Renjun knows that he should be careful. It can’t be a good idea to walk around with a vampire at night. But the other, more stubborn part of him believes that Jeno isn’t the kind of guy who would harm him, and needs to know if his suspicions are right.

Renjun forces a smile. “Of course.”

It isn’t a long walk back. Renjun struggles a little to keep up with Jeno’s pace, lagging a half a step behind. “Sorry I don’t have a car,” Jeno says with another one of his sweet smiles. “Jaemin gives me a ride sometimes, but personally I prefer walking.”

“I like walking too,” Renjun lies. He’s been doing a lot of that lately. He’s also letting Jeno carry the food, even though they’re technically headed in the same direction. “Have you and Jaemin known each other a long time?” Renjun asks, purposeful small talk.

“Pretty long,” Jeno answers. “We’ve been friends since middle school. We have a lot in common, even though we might not seem like it.”

“Are you also… mostly active at night?” Renjun tries.

Jeno laughs. “No? Jaemin is always up late—you’re right—but I try not to. Mornings are really good for a jog around campus. Fewer people, and all.”

Renjun frowns. No matter which way he looks at it, Jeno doesn’t seem like a vampire. At least not in the same way that Jaemin does. Jeno doesn’t sound like he’s lying, either, but Renjun has never heard of a vampire who goes on morning runs. Maybe there are other, non-traditional types of vampires. Like ones that sparkle in the sunlight, except more practical. Or maybe Jeno isn’t a vampire. Maybe Jaemin isn’t a vampire—

Renjun is so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice Jeno slow down until Jeno is grabbing his arm to stop Renjun from tripping over him.

“Sorry,” Jeno says hastily. “I didn’t mean to stop. I got distracted by—” he looks up, Renjun following his gaze to the sky. It’s a clear night, a sprinkle of stars against a breathtakingly deep blue. And right in the middle of the canvas sits—

“A full moon,” Renjun murmurs. No wonder he hadn’t felt like he was about to be murdered and have his body dumped in the campus pond. Apart from the faint illumination from surrounding buildings, the walk had been naturally well-lit.

“Almost a full moon,” Jeno agrees. “Kind of a waxing gibbous? It’ll be full tomorrow.”

Jeno hadn’t struck Renjun as an astronomy nerd. He’s full of surprises. Like how he’d been radiating heat when he grabbed Renjun’s arm, completely unlike Jaemin’s icy touch.

The remainder of the walk is quiet. Renjun tries to process everything he’s learned at top speed, assembling the information in his head like a hundred-piece puzzle.

Just as they arrive at the dorms, everything clicks.

“Come to think of it,” Jeno says. “Do you want to come up and say hi to Jaemin? You can give him the food yourself, if you want.”

His smile appears perfectly sincere. Renjun finds himself taking a step back. “Actually,” Renjun says slowly. “I’m a little tired.” This new revelation changes things, even if not significantly. Renjun has flirted with danger enough for one day. If he were to walk into the proverbial lion’s den to top it all off, it might be the last bad decision he ever makes.

“Next time, then.” Jeno doesn’t seem to think much of it as he bids Renjun goodnight and disappears into the same stairwell Jaemin usually disappears into.

Renjun is confident Jeno isn’t a vampire. His skin isn’t cold, he isn’t repelled by the sun, and it’s not garlic he’s afraid of. Quite the opposite. Jeno is very warm-blooded, knows more than the average person about the moon, and has an unusually strong sense of smell.

Jeno is a werewolf.

🩸

Renjun tells no one about his discovery. Dejun and Chenle would only make fun of him, and Renjun figures it doesn’t really change things, anyway. It’s not like he hasn’t been paying weekly visits to the university bar to see someone he suspects is an actual vampire. What’s one more supernatural creature thrown into the mix?

Anticipation sits heavy in his stomach when he walks into the bar the next night. Jaemin is on shift, true to Jeno’s word, but instead of his usual greeting, he turns and busies himself with the register when Renjun comes up to the counter.

“Um, hi,” Jisung says, rushing over to serve Renjun. He seems flustered, but Renjun has come to learn that this is just Jisung’s default state of being. “Can I get you something?”

Renjun knows Jaemin saw him because they’d locked eyes for a split second before Jaemin turned away. There, in that moment, Renjun realizes his miscalculation: without witnessing Jaemin’s reaction to his food first-hand, he can’t confirm what Jaemin is. And now there’s a good chance that regardless of whether or not he’s a vampire, Jaemin is offended that Renjun essentially tried to poison him. Renjun feels his heart sink when Jaemin doesn’t look his way. So these are the consequences of not thinking his actions through.

Jisung looks from Renjun to Jaemin and back to Renjun again. Sweat breaks out on his forehead. “Our monthly special?” he tries. “Or maybe—”

“I’ll have a long island iced tea,” Renjun says.

Jisung looks relieved for an excuse to disappear. Renjun takes a seat at the counter and notes the way Jaemin gravitates towards the opposite end of the bar. It feels strange to be ignored—Halloween aside, Jaemin has always paid him special attention. Renjun pretends to occupy himself with his phone, trying to think of other potential reasons for Jaemin giving him the cold shoulder. Maybe he’s a vampire and has realized Renjun is onto him. Or maybe he’s human and can’t see a future with someone who cooks that badly. Or maybe he’s just not feeling well today.

A hand taps Renjun on the arm. Renjun’s head whips up at the familiar coldness—but it’s just Jisung, who looks just as startled as him, Renjun’s drink in his other hand.

“Hey,” Renjun says. “Is Jaemin feeling okay today?”

“Of course,” Jisung says immediately, without turning to look. Jisung, at least, seems undeniably human. “Why wouldn’t he be?” He laughs, nervous. “I mean, at least he’s here.”

Renjun frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Jeno isn’t here,” Jisung says. He’s rambling. “Jeno is—well, he’s not okay. He’s sick. Really sick. Jaemin said he wouldn’t come out of his room this morning. He was supposed to be on shift today, but I had to take over.”

“Huh.” Renjun had seen Jeno last night, and Jeno had seemed fine. A little tired, but not any more so than the average university student. And then Renjun remembers.

Almost a full moon. It’ll be full tomorrow.

Unease prickles at the back of Renjun’s neck. He runs over the facts in his head just to be sure: Jeno is mysteriously absent from work today. There’s a full moon today. Werewolves transform during the full moon. If this doesn’t serve as confirmation that Jeno is a werewolf, Renjun doesn’t know what would.

“Oh,” Jisung says softly, oblivious to Renjun’s frantic thought process. “I almost forgot. This is for you.” From his pocket he pulls a napkin, which he places on the counter in front of Renjun. A phone number is scrawled on the front in red ink. Renjun stares at the numbers for what feels like an eternity. Of all the absurd things that have happened tonight, getting Jisung’s number quite possibly comes out on top of the list.

“Oh,” Jisung says again at Renjun’s reaction, realization dawning on his face. Renjun has never seen anyone turn so red in a span of three seconds. “No. No no no no. That’s not my number. That’s Jaemin’s number. He wanted me to give it to you.”

That makes more sense, but only a little. “Jaemin’s number?” Renjun looks instinctively over at Jaemin, who appears to have been watching them, but turns his head in the opposite direction when Renjun glances his way.

“Yeah,” Jisung nods firmly. “Text him. Or something. If you want to.”

Renjun doesn’t text Jaemin. He does compose and delete several messages when he gets back to his room that night, slightly tipsy after just one drink, but none of them quite capture what he wants to say. What’s your deal? sounds kind of rude. Are you a vampire? is too blunt. So you’re not angry at me? might come across as oversensitive.

Instead, Renjun calls Jaemin. He isn’t sure why he does it—it’s probably the fault of the alcohol. By now it’s past closing time, and Jaemin picks up after one ring.

“Renjun?” Jaemin’s voice makes Renjun shiver, even without the proximity. Renjun hasn’t actually heard him speak today.

“Yeah…” Renjun spends a few seconds in anxious silence before blurting: “Did you try the food yesterday?”

“Of course,” Jaemin purrs. “It was good. Thank you.”

Huh. Renjun falls silent, trying to figure out what that could possibly mean. Either Jaemin is lying, or his taste buds are faulty, or isn’t a vampire after all. Renjun’s head hurts. “Why weren’t you talking to me earlier?” he asks bluntly.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Jaemin promises. “Do you want to get dinner tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Renjun’s head spins from the whiplash, brain trying to come up with the most appropriate response. “Where?”

“Anywhere. Your pick.”

By this point, Renjun wouldn’t be surprised if this was all part of Jaemin’s strange way of flirting. He’s certainly never given Renjun any reason to let his guard down. Renjun has more questions than he started out with when they end the call several minutes later, but one thing is for sure as he sinks into bed and stares contemplatively at the ceiling.

Not only had he finally scored Jaemin’s number today—he’d also scored himself a date.

🩸

Renjun discovers very quickly that it’s harder to talk to Jaemin while completely sober. As it turns out, having a drink or two provides a welcome layer of mental protection against Jaemin’s attention. Without any alcohol in his system, Renjun is left to feel the full effects of every one of Jaemin’s smiles. It doesn’t help that Renjun hasn’t gone on a real date in years.

Renjun also finds out that Jaemin doesn’t eat very much.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Renjun asks as Jaemin nibbles at the corner of a dumpling. They’re at Renjun’s choice of restaurant—hotpot a short drive from campus—and Jaemin has been picking at his food for the better part of an hour. Kind of like a vampire who isn’t fond of human food might. It makes no sense for Jaemin to have invited Renjun to dinner if he isn’t fond of human food, but Renjun is beginning to accept that not many of the things Jaemin does make sense.

“Do you not like the food?” Renjun tries. At least this is providing a distraction from his earlier nerves. Renjun had even made Jaemin’s dipping sauce for him—though that probably wouldn’t make a difference if the food is the problem.

“I like it,” Jaemin says with an innocent tilt of his head. He must sense that Renjun isn’t convinced by his answer, because after a pause he adds: “I’m on a special diet.”

Renjun narrows his eyes. “What kind of special diet?” A diet of human blood?

“It’s not important,” Jaemin says, batting his eyelashes. “Do you come here often?”

Hotpot used to be a weekly affair with Dejun before their routine was disrupted by midterms. After almost three weeks without his favorite soup, the craving had been strong. Renjun slides a plate of the prawns he’d just deshelled across the table in the hopes that Jaemin might eat something if it requires minimal effort. Maybe Jaemin just isn’t used to Chinese food. Even though it’s really not all that different to Korean food.

“Pretty often,” Renjun answers, trying to think of a way to steer the conversation back towards Jaemin. “Do you play baseball, by any chance?”

“No...”

Renjun suppresses a sigh of relief. He needed to know. He begins the task of cooking all the meat he’d ordered—mostly to have something to do with his hands, but also because he has a lot to get through, especially if Jaemin isn’t going to help. “You know, apart from the bar and that one time at the blood donation drive, I’ve never actually seen you around campus.”

“I don’t get out a lot,” Jaemin admits.

“What’s your major?” Renjun asks. “You never told me.”

“Let’s not talk about university,” Jaemin says, his first blatant evasion of the night. “Let’s talk about something more fun.”

“Like?”

Jaemin looks thoughtful. “What are you doing after this?”

Renjun almost drops his ladle into the soup. What are you doing after this? Is that a proposition? “Nothing,” he answers immediately, suddenly feeling the heat radiating from the center of the table at double intensity. He’d almost forgotten who he was here with, and why. “I’m not doing anything. What are you doing after this?”

The small part of him that needs to be killed hopes Jaemin will say something like, you. But that would ignore the fact that Jaemin has never once done something in line with Renjun’s expectations.

“Readings,” Jaemin says solemnly. “I have a lot of them this week.”

Renjun feels himself deflate a little. “Seriously?” Jaemin has to be messing with him. Unless this is his idea of foreplay. Which is possible, considering it’s Jaemin. Renjun spends the rest of the meal unsure, confusion and anticipation swirling together in his gut like two soup bases that don’t mix well at all. He finishes most of the meat, and Jaemin eats the prawns. They split the bill. Then Jaemin drives them back to campus.

“See you this weekend?” Jaemin says once he’s parked his car, instantly crushing all of Renjun’s hopes. It was probably silly of Renjun to expect a kiss from Jaemin tonight, let alone anything more. Renjun’s mom always used to call him a dreamer. He has been dreaming a lot about Jaemin lately.

“Is that it?” Renjun asks, disappointment stinging his insides.

Jaemin blinks at him. His eyes had looked gold under the bright restaurant lights earlier, but here in the shadows, they look black.

Renjun swallows. “You aren’t going to invite me up?”

“Do you want to come up?” Jaemin asks. “Jeno said he had someone over to watch The Kissing Booth, but we could probably join—”

Renjun unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the car door.

“Renjun?” Jaemin says. “What are you—”

Renjun doesn’t hear the rest of what Jaemin has to say. He gets out and slams the door, frustration simmering in his veins as he jogs towards the dorm entrance and takes the stairs up to his room two at a time. Objectively, he knows Jaemin didn’t reject him, but it still sort of feels like he did. This is why Renjun doesn’t like dating. There’s too much ambiguity. Too much waiting. Too much pouring your heart into a relationship without knowing how the other party feels about you. Renjun should have stuck to bringing strangers home every once in a while and then never having to worry about them again.

His phone vibrates with a text from Jaemin, but it’s just him asking if Renjun is okay. At least Renjun knows for sure that Jaemin can’t read his mind—but then, Bella’s mind was the only one Edward couldn’t read.

Renjun is so sick of vampires. He runs both hands over his face and tries to clear his head, but all he can think of is the hurt on Jaemin’s face before Renjun slammed the car door shut.

🩸

“Maybe he doesn’t like you like that,” Dejun suggests.

Lying face down on Dejun’s bed isn’t making Renjun feel any better. It’s been almost a week since he last talked to Jaemin, and Renjun has been doing a bad job of trying to forget the whole incident. He didn’t visit the bar over the weekend. He knows it’s unfair of him to be ignoring Jaemin when Jaemin did nothing wrong, but it’s hard to be reasonable when Renjun is being plagued by all sorts of strange emotions he’s never felt before, and also hasn’t been laid in so long that he feels like he’s about to lose his mind.

“I was joking,” Dejun says after a minute of silence. “He definitely likes you. No one would put up with your whiny ass for so long if they didn’t.”

“I’m not whiny,” Renjun whines into the sheets. “And you just admitted you like me.”

Dejun sighs. “Do you want to marathon Twilight or something? I have ice cream.”

Renjun rolls over to glare at him. “I told you, I’m not obsessed with vampires. I only watch those stupid movies because you make me. Also, I went with Jaemin for hotpot and he barely ate. You’re the one who said vampires don’t eat human food.”

“You took him to eat hotpot?” Dejun asks after a pause. “Please tell me you ordered something besides the mala.”

Renjun blinks. “What?”

Slowly, Dejun raises a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You do realize normal people can’t handle that much chili.”

“Oh.” Renjun hadn’t realized that. Dejun’s judgemental look immediately sets him on the defensive. “But that’s not what this is about. He won’t even kiss me. You were right—how should I know if he even likes me?” Renjun flops back down on the bed dramatically. “I can’t do this anymore. If Donghyuck were still single—”

“Do you hear yourself?” Dejun snaps.

Renjun stops talking, sitting up in surprise.

“You know what your problem is?” Dejun says. “You only ever think about yourself. You don’t think about other people’s feelings, and I say this as your friend. Not everything has to be about sex, you know. Are you really going to do this again?”

“Again?” Renjun asks. “What do you mean, again—”

“Donghyuck was in love with you in freshman year,” Dejun says flatly. “Everyone knew it but you. You haven’t changed—you only see what you want to see. Maybe Jaemin is trying to get to know you because he actually likes you. Maybe it seems like he can read your mind because you think out loud all the damn time. Maybe he just doesn’t like hotpot. Did you ever consider that?”

It isn’t often Renjun finds himself on the receiving end of a tongue lashing by Dejun. It feels like a rug pulled out from under him without warning, Renjun struggling to process the new information. Donghyuck, in love with him? Jaemin wanting something from him that isn’t sex? The resisting push of denial is strong, but Renjun does trust Dejun. Dejun may not be the best judge of media, but he’s a good judge of character.

“Everybody loves hotpot,” Renjun protests weakly, trying to hold it together by latching onto the one thing he’s sure about. “You literally eat it every week.”

“Yes,” Dejun looks annoyed. “I eat it with you, because you love hotpot.”

“You eat hotpot… because of me?”

Dejun sighs louder this time. “Don’t say it like that.”

But he’s gotten his point across. Renjun always makes the biggest possible deal of having to even entertain a conversation about Twilight. It hadn’t ever crossed his mind that Dejun went along with his restaurant choices—or singular choice, really—without complaint each week. A deep, unshakable shame settles into Renjun’s body.

“I’m sorry for calling Twilight stupid,” he mumbles. “It’s not that stupid. Except for the heroin line—that’s pretty stupid. But everything else is okay.”

Dejun cracks a smile. “Just because you wouldn’t recognise true love if it came up and bit you on the nose.”

“Or on the neck,” Renjun frowns.

“Talk to him,” Dejun says firmly. He puts his hand on Renjun’s shoulder, a warm but steady pressure. Renjun has never felt so grateful that Dejun has his back despite all of his flaws. “There’s nothing that can’t be solved by talking things out.”

🩸

It’s not Renjun’s first visit to the bar at closing. At least this time, though, it’s intentional. Most of the lights in the building start going out as Renjun watches from around the corner, feeling like some kind of cartoonish stalker while he waits for Jaemin to emerge.

The first person out the door isn’t Jaemin, but Jeno. He’s swapped out his bartender uniform for casual clothes and a backpack, practically blending into the night in all black. Renjun is about to turn his attention back to the entrance when he notices that Jeno is walking in the opposite direction to the dorms. Every once in a while, Jeno pauses to look around him, as if to make sure no one is around.

Against his better judgment, Renjun decides to follow him.

Jeno walks fast. Renjun should have expected this based on prior experience, but it’s still surprising how much of a struggle it is to trail him like a not-so-cartoonish stalker while also leaving enough distance between them to avoid being seen. As they approach the cluster of buildings making up the science department, Renjun wonders what Jeno could possibly be doing out here in the middle of the night. He can’t think of anything that would warrant being this shady. Unless—

Renjun looks up.

The moon is on display tonight, familiar in its brilliance. It’s a full moon. Or it could be a waxing gibbous, Renjun can’t really tell. Either way, it’s significant.

He looks back down in time to see Jeno duck into an alleyway between two of the department’s outermost buildings. Renjun makes his way over as silently as possible, peering in, but all he sees is pitch darkness. And then he hears it.

A low growl from deep inside the alley.

No fucking way, Renjun thinks, heart pounding from having briskwalked all the way here. Jeno is a werewolf. This is actual evidence of his transformation. The pressing question is whether Renjun is going to die right here or whether he should make a break for it. Is werewolf Jeno aggressive? Renjun is sure he won’t be able to outrun a werewolf. He can’t even outrun the average person.

“Renjun?”

Renjun whips around at the voice, heart nearly leaping out of his chest. It’s Jaemin, coming up behind him from the same direction Renjun had come. Like Jeno, Jaemin is dressed mostly in black, and even by the light of the moon he looks devastatingly good. Renjun might be hyperventilating a little, but for a different reason now. He’s experiencing actual physical pain seeing Jaemin after not talking to him for so long.

A few graceful strides and Jaemin is right up in his personal space. Renjun takes a step backwards instinctively, his back coming into contact with the outer wall of the department building. “Renjun, what’s wrong?” Jaemin’s eyes look red as he leans in, a cool hand brushing Renjun's face.

Renjun had rehearsed his apology at least ten times before leaving his room today. He opens his mouth to say the first word, but what comes out instead is: “I know what you are.”

Jaemin inclines his head, a silent question.

Renjun’s breathing is shallow. “You're impossibly fast, and strong. Your skin is pale white and ice cold. Your eyes change color, and you never eat or drink anything. You don't go out in the sunlight. How old are you?”

A pause. “Twenty-two,” Jaemin answers.

“How long have you been twenty-two?”

A longer pause. “Eight months?”

Renjun’s math isn’t very good, but even he can tell that doesn’t add up. He stares at Jaemin, the tension in the air dissipating. “What?”

Jaemin smiles, and suddenly he doesn’t look quite so bloodthirsty anymore. He just looks like Jaemin. “You do like Twilight.”

Something about this conversation isn’t right. Renjun feels like he’s been sucker punched in the head, disoriented and unable to form coherent thoughts. “I don’t like Twilight,” is the only thing he’s able to come up with.

Jaemin frowns. “But you just quoted Twilight.”

“Because you’re a vampire.”

“Oh.” A brief silence before a familiar, charming smile splits Jaemin’s face. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment,” Renjun hisses. “What is—are you really not a vampire?”

“No,” Jaemin says. “Are you?”

This is almost as infuriating as Renjun’s entire past week has been. Renjun reaches forward and grabs Jaemin’s shoulders, maneuvering them so that Jaemin is the one with his back to the wall as Renjun stands over him—or tries to, since Jaemin is a fair bit taller than him. “Explain yourself,” Renjun demands. “Now.”

Jaemin raises both hands in surrender. There’s something distinctly clueless about the way he does it, like he has no idea what he's admitting to. “I plead not guilty. Did you want me to be a vampire, though? Because I could—”

“Um,” says a third voice. Specifically, Jeno’s voice. “What’s going on?”

Renjun turns and watches, bewildered, as Jeno steps out of the dark alley. Jeno, who is very much human. Not a werewolf. At his feet is a small brown puppy with its tongue hanging out of its mouth, tail wagging as it looks up at them.

“Jeno,” Jaemin says, pleasantly surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Jeno glances between them, then at the surrounding area. “There’s a litter of stray puppies that lives here,” he explains. “Students aren’t really supposed to feed them, but I come by after shift sometimes to see them. What are you doing here? What was—” He hesitates, as if unsure whether he’ll regret his next words. “What was that you were saying about vampires?”

“Well,” Jaemin says, ignoring Renjun’s panicked look. “Renjun thought I was a vampire.”

This would be easier if Renjun simply exploded. It’s bad enough having Jaemin bear witness to his mistakes—Renjun doesn’t need Jeno in on it too.

Jeno looks like he very much regrets asking. “Okay...” he says slowly. He pauses. “Is that what the food with all the garlic was about?”

For once, Renjun is glad for the cover of darkness. His face feels hot with embarrassment as he turns towards Jaemin. “You said you ate it. But you spent the whole night ignoring me.”

“Because I told him not to talk,” Jeno says, with an unusual bluntness. Something tells Renjun that Jeno isn’t too thrilled to be connecting the dots. “He ate everything you cooked for him and he stunk. I could smell him in the morning whenever he opened his mouth, and my cold was so bad I could barely breathe.”

“It was pretty bad,” Jaemin confirms. “Jisung wouldn’t even look at me that week.”

Things are beginning to come together. Not in a way that Renjun expected nor necessarily wanted, but gradually, it’s all becoming clear. “You were sick?” Renjun asks Jeno in a small voice.

“Yeah, it was some cold that came out of nowhere. I had to ask Jisung to take my shift.”

That was the night Renjun thought Jeno called off from work because of a full moon. So Jeno really isn’t a werewolf. And Jaemin really isn’t a vampire.

Jeno bends down to scratch the puppy behind the ears before ushering it back into the alley. He eyes Renjun and Jaemin warily when he straightens. “It’s late. I’m heading back.”

“I’ll give you a ride,” Jaemin offers. “I parked just around the corner.”

“No thank you.” Jeno takes a deep breath. “I’ll walk. You two can… sort out whatever it is you need to sort out.”

He says it like he’s worried they might spontaneously start making out in front of him. As if, Renjun thinks sourly. But before anyone can say anything more, Jeno is already jogging back down the same path all three of them had come.

Now that Renjun is alone with Jaemin again, some of the nervousness from earlier is beginning to return. Jaemin is looking at him, awaiting Renjun’s next move. Unlike before, Renjun is aware that the deserted science blocks in the middle of the night might not be the best place to hold a conversation—especially one as important as this.

“You’re right,” Jaemin says, like he can read Renjun’s mind. “Let’s go. We can talk in the car.”

🩸

It feels like the most natural thing in the world to slide into the passenger seat of Jaemin’s car. Renjun’s chest goes tight at the familiar musky scent of the interior. It’s a very short drive to the dorms, which means Renjun has a very short amount of time to get answers to all of his questions. He decides to start with the basics.

“Why is your skin always so cold?”

Jaemin seems to consider it as he reverses out of the spot he’s parked in. “I’m in charge of the ice machine at the bar,” he says. “My hands are usually cold when I’m working. They’re not cold anymore.” As if to prove his point, he holds out a hand for Renjun to feel.

“Keep your hands on the wheel,” Renjun scolds, but he takes up the offer for a second anyway. Jaemin’s hand isn’t exactly warm, but it’s far from icy.

Jaemin does a three-point turn to exit the side road they’re on. Next question. “The night we met. You did that crazy thing to save me… you stopped that car. No person moves that fast.”

Jaemin laughs. Somehow, it manages to sound affectionate. “I wasn’t that fast. You just drank too much. And even if the guy bumped into you, he would’ve knocked you over, at most.” He glances out the side window. “Oh, I think we just drove past Jeno.”

Renjun frowns. That’s not how he remembers the incident, but Dejun has claimed Renjun tends to get dramatic after more than one drink, so Renjun will let this one slide. Next question. “Your eyes…” Renjun starts, but he’s already getting the hang of this. He has to resist the urge to bury his head in his hands. “Colored contact lenses?”

“Colored contact lenses,” Jaemin confirms.

In hindsight, most of Jaemin’s vampirisms have perfectly logical explanations behind them. It was mostly the combination of things, coupled with Jaemin’s bizarre behavior in general, that had Renjun convinced. Looking back on everything now, it’s kind of embarrassing.

“Why do you keep sniffing me? You don’t actually want to eat me, do you?”

“You smell nice,” Jaemin answers. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

That’s a little bit romantic. Just a little. “Do you like Twilight?” Renjun asks.

“Not really… I read the books because you seemed to like vampires.”

Renjun's mouth falls open. First of all, he really needs to do something about these damaging and completely untrue beliefs people tend to have about him. Second of all: “You’re saying you were trying to be like Edward Cullen?”

Even with Jaemin’s eyes on the road, Renjun can tell he’s doing that thing where he averts his gaze when he doesn’t want to answer a question.

“Seriously?”

“We’re here,” Jaemin announces abruptly, putting the car into park. “See you this weekend?”

Renjun hadn’t realized they’d already arrived at the dorms. “Wait,” he yelps as Jaemin reaches for the keys. Renjun still hasn’t apologized to him. That was the whole reason he came out to see Jaemin tonight.

Jaemin looks at him, expectant. It’s now or never.

“I’m sorry for this past week,” Renjun blurts. “I’m sorry for ghosting you and not visiting the bar last weekend. I didn’t like it when you ignored me that one night but I did the same thing to you, and—” Barely halfway into the apology and he’s already gone off-script. Renjun keeps his eyes trained forward, too afraid to turn to look at Jaemin’s expression. “Someone told me I’m only good at thinking of myself, and they were right. I only ever think about what I want and assume others want the exact same thing. I can’t really tell what you’re thinking most of the time, but I like spending time with you, and if—if you—”

He’s being honest—but whether he’s being coherent is a different matter entirely. Will Jaemin understand what he’s trying to say? Renjun tries not to panic as he glances over at him.

“What did you assume we both wanted?” Jaemin asks.

“Um,” Renjun says, because of course Jaemin would pick the most awkward possible question to ask after Renjun had just presented his heart to him on a silver platter. He can’t possibly say sex. Even though he does want that. But it’s not the only thing he wants. But it’s hard to explain the thought process behind that without it potentially sounding very bad. The truth is that Renjun hasn’t been this serious about someone in as long as he can remember. As much as he enjoyed Donghyuck’s company, Renjun never got butterflies talking to him, or daydreamed about him, or wondered what it would be like to kiss him and watch the sunset with him and be held by him.

If Jaemin misunderstands, this could be it. Renjun feels like throwing up. In young adult romance novels, the protagonist usually gets swept off her feet by a dashing love interest, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen here. Renjun is left with no choice—he has to take control of his own love story.

“If I asked you to kiss me,” Renjun says. “Would you?”

Jaemin blinks at him. He isn’t a particularly expressive person to begin with, but the surprise on his face still feels unusual. It’s kind of a good look on him. Then again, Renjun has yet to find an expression that isn’t a good look on Jaemin.

“Is that what you want?” Jaemin asks.

Renjun nods, too nervous to feel embarrassed.

The smile appears on Jaemin’s face so quickly that Renjun thinks he’s dreaming. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. “Maybe we do want the same thing,” Jaemin says, eyes gleaming as he leans across the center console to kiss him.

His lips are soft, and the kiss is very Jaemin-like. Meaning it seems normal up until the point where Jaemin opens his mouth. There’s a hunger to the way Jaemin kisses, and he uses a lot of tongue, licking wetly into Renjun’s mouth as he cards his hand through Renjun’s hair, grip tightening so that he can angle Renjun’s head as he pleases. Renjun finds he doesn’t mind that there’s more spit involved than he expected, dizzy from having Jaemin’s tongue against his. All he can think about as Jaemin laps at the inside of his mouth is how Jaemin hadn’t actually said he didn’t want to eat him.

A gasp slips from Renjun when Jaemin detaches himself from him and goes for his neck, inhaling deeply in that way he does before he licks a hot, wet stripe over the sensitive skin above Renjun’s collarbone. The center console digs into Renjun’s hip as he tries to get closer, the front seat clearly unconducive for this kind of activity. He’s practically leaning half his weight into the driver’s seat when Jaemin attaches his mouth to his neck and sucks, and then—

Renjun nearly jumps out of his skin when a piercing horn cuts the air. Jaemin pulls back in surprise, and it takes Renjun a moment to realize he’d accidentally leaned on the steering wheel and set off the horn.

“Sorry,” Renjun stammers, fighting a smile and losing when Jaemin just laughs. Jaemin’s lips are glossy and kiss-swollen; Renjun wonders if he looks worse. Gingerly, he wipes the drool of his chin with the back of his hand. Jaemin is a really messy kisser.

“Don’t worry,” Jaemin says, also with his eyes blatantly on Renjun’s mouth. “It happens sometimes, when you get too—”

“Please,” Renjun interrupts. “Please don’t say horny.”

Jaemin’s smile is unrepentant. Renjun looks away so that he doesn’t go into cardiac arrest from staring at Jaemin’s perfect face for too long. He squints when he sees a familiar figure through the windshield, walking in the direction of the main entrance to the dorms.

“Hey, look over there, it’s Jeno.” Jaemin looks and waves, but Jeno is resolutely not looking in their direction as he crosses the parking lot.

Silence settles over them. Renjun is on edge after the interruption, but even he can’t deny that a car isn’t a good place to do this. They can’t even take this upstairs, because Jeno is at Jaemin’s, and Dejun was in bed writing a report when Renjun left his room earlier.

“Jeno’s on shift tomorrow night, but I’m not,” Jaemin says suddenly. “I have an evening lecture that goes until eight. After that, you could come over. If you want.”

That definitely sounds like a proposition. Renjun doesn’t want to be burned twice, but it’s not about sex anyway, he reminds himself. This is about true love. And science. “Good,” Renjun says with a shaky laugh. “I still have questions to ask you.”

“Tomorrow, then,” Jaemin says. It sounds like a promise.

🩸

Objectively, eight-thirty isn’t that far away. Renjun attends his lectures, grabs lunch with Dejun, and doesn’t think about Jaemin for the whole day. Most importantly, he doesn’t replay the kiss from yesterday in his head, and he doesn’t overthink.

“Can you sit down?” Dejun pleads after half an hour of watching Renjun pace the length of their shared hallway. “I don’t understand why you’re freaking out about this. You literally made out with him yesterday.”

“It’s not that simple,” Renjun snaps. “A lot could go wrong. What if he doesn’t want to fuck after all? Or what if he’s into something like—” Renjun racks his brains for something he wouldn’t be willing to do in bed with Jaemin. “Like…”

“Bloodplay?” Dejun suggests.

Renjun winces internally. Picturing Jaemin with blood on his face will make things go south very quickly, so Renjun just won’t think about it. “Sure… that.”

Dejun rolls his eyes. “Only a virgin would try and romance someone by reading Twilight. Not to burst your bubble, but I don’t think it’s a wild night you need to be worrying about.”

“Shut up,” Renjun says automatically. “He’s not a virgin, he’s just—” Renjun stops. Tries to think of any single concrete piece of evidence that Jaemin isn’t a virgin. Comes up blank. Tries to think of any evidence that Jaemin might be a virgin.

For starters, he’s never really initiated anything physical with Renjun. It was easy to assume that Jaemin could have his pick of partners with a face like that, but he’s never mentioned past relationships. Renjun had been the one to ask him for a kiss. And though Renjun knows it’s no good to draw conclusions about people based on limited information, what if Jaemin wasn’t just a messy kisser, but an inexperienced one? There’s also the whole trying-to-romance-someone-by-reading-Twilight thing. Now that Renjun thinks about that, it does seem a little suspect.

“Edward Cullen was a virgin,” Dejun says helpfully.

Fuck, Renjun thinks.

🩸

Jaemin answers the door with a smile and invites Renjun straight into his room, hair freshly-washed and smelling vaguely of shampoo. He looks so good that Renjun promptly forgets every question he’d prepared on the walk over.

“Nice bed,” Renjun says nervously.

“Thank you,” Jaemin says. “I assembled it myself.”

His eyes are a natural brown today, gaze careful as Renjun looks back at him. For a second, neither of them moves. Then Renjun surges forward and Jaemin meets him halfway and they’re kissing, wet and a little sloppy, Jaemin pulling Renjun flush against him.

Making out quickly devolves into frantic touches, Renjun feeling Jaemin’s clothed erection under his palm as Jaemin’s fingers dig into his waist. They take things to the bed, Renjun tugging at Jaemin’s t-shirt until he takes it off, nearly choking on his tongue when he sees Jaemin’s naked upper body for the first time. Absently, he lets Jaemin coax him out of his own clothes, already half-hard, eyes drawn to the tiny cross on a simple gold chain around Jaemin’s neck.

“To keep the vampires away,” Jaemin jokes with a breathy laugh, finger coming up to toy with the pendant before his expression turns serious. “I’m keeping this on.”

Renjun makes an embarrassing noise in his throat that he decides to pretend never happened. Jaemin doesn’t give the impression of someone inexperienced, but Renjun doesn’t have to pay special attention to notice he’s not very demanding—at least not physically. And he pauses a lot, watching for every one of Renjun’s reactions and waiting for him to take the lead. Which is fine. Renjun doesn’t need to be manhandled as badly as he wants Jaemin. He’s already psyched himself up for it by the time he’s stripped down to nothing and Jaemin wriggles out of his jeans.

Jaemin is big. Renjun probably should have seen this coming, but that doesn’t stop him from staring. He hopes he isn’t drooling. Distantly, with the part of his brain that’s still functional, he wonders how he’s going to take it all.

So this is really happening.

“Like what you see?” Jaemin asks smugly, with an obscene wiggle of his eyebrows. Renjun does. But he can’t say that, so he ignores Jaemin in favor of grabbing lube—which Jaemin has to direct him to, and which turns out to be sitting in the open on his desk, for whatever reason. Jaemin keeps obediently still the whole time, except to roll on a condom as he watches Renjun finger himself open.

Having his own fingers up his ass feels less sexy than having someone else’s there, but it can’t really be helped. Renjun waits until the discomfort has faded to a dull ache before reaching forward to slick up Jaemin’s cock with his other hand, mouth going dry as he notes the way his thumb barely meets the rest of his fingers when he has his hand around the shaft.

“Ready?” Renjun asks, already a little breathless as Jaemin nods. He’s not used to doing all the work himself. “Just—relax, okay?” Advice better suited for himself, Renjun thinks wryly as gets into position, feeling the stretch of Jaemin’s tip pushing past his entrance.

Both of them groan as Renjun sinks down onto Jaemin’s cock—slowly at first, deliberate, until Renjun loses his balance and ends up taking the last couple of inches all at once. Jaemin’s hips spasm as Renjun lets out a garbled noise, clenching down involuntarily and feeling Jaemin throb inside of him. Apart from the unexpected sting, it always feels like this initially—like he’s going to break, like the burn couldn’t possibly give way to pleasure. Renjun doesn’t move, head bowed and thighs shaking, supporting his own weight with both hands on Jaemin’s chest.

“You okay?” Jaemin asks, concern audible over the strain in his voice. His touch is soothing against the heated skin of Renjun’s side.

“Yeah,” Renjun whimpers. “Yeah, just—” He takes a few more seconds to breathe, getting used to the feeling of being completely filled up. Gradually, the stretch starts to feel good. Jaemin is so fucking big. It’s unbelievable that he’s never done this before, Renjun thinks, a little hysterically. Like someone with a beautiful voice who never sings. Or someone who lives three blocks away from Haidilao but never eats there. Obviously there’s much more to Jaemin than sex, but Renjun is ready to risk it all for Jaemin’s dick after only being acquainted with it for five minutes, is all he’s saying.

“I’m—I’m gonna move.” God, Renjun’s voice already sounds wrecked. The words feel less like a warning to Jaemin, more like a warning to himself. Slowly, Renjun lifts his hips before dropping himself back down into Jaemin’s lap, leg muscles straining as he fucks himself on Jaemin’s cock. Renjun had gone a bit soft earlier from adjusting, but he feels his cock fill out again as he rides Jaemin, the friction making his eyes water. Jaemin’s breathing is shaky—the only sign, apart from how hard he is, that this is affecting him at all.

“Jaemin,” Renjun says, flushing as his voice catches on the syllables. “Touch me.”

Jaemin complies, his hand on Renjun’s cock in seconds. The slide of his palm is made slick with precome, Renjun jumping at the stimulation. He has to remind himself to keep moving his hips as Jaemin strokes him, the pressure starting to build in his abdomen. Jaemin’s cock feels good inside of him, but it’s not enough. At this rate, Renjun is going to come because of Jaemin’s hand alone.

As always, Jaemin is attentive. “What’s wrong?” he asks, slowing his movements, leaning up to press a kiss to Renjun’s jaw. “Are you tired?”

Renjun is, sort of, but it’s not like he isn’t enjoying himself. He just usually doesn’t work this hard during sex. There was a guy he met on Tinder in freshman year who called him a pillow princess, but Renjun assumed that was because he refused a second hook-up. He really doesn’t want Jaemin to think he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Jaemin is watching him carefully. Without breaking eye contact, he gives Renjun’s shoulders a gentle push. Renjun’s back hits the mattress and then he finds himself gazing up at Jaemin, both of Jaemin’s arms caging him in. There’s nowhere to run, so it’s a good thing running is the last thing on Renjun’s mind. The docile look in Jaemin’s eye from a minute ago is replaced with something predatory—it’s as if someone flipped a switch in him. Renjun squirms, reminding himself to breathe, Jaemin’s cock still inside of him.

“My turn,” Jaemin says, voice silky. “May I?”

Renjun is so hard he’s aching, and more than happy to let Jaemin take control. “Yes,” Renjun breathes. Please.

Jaemin pulls out slowly, then slams back in with a force that punches the air out of Renjun’s lungs, his whole body shifting upwards on the bed. “Fuck,” Renjun groans, back curving, blinking stars from his vision as Jaemin goes for another hard thrust. “Ah—” With his next thrust Jaemin hooks both hands under Renjun’s thighs and pulls him close, pressing in so deep that Renjun chokes out a sob, electric pleasure jolting through him.

“Oh” Jaemin says, canines looking an awful lot like fangs as he grins, closer than Renjun expects. “You do like it rough.” Renjun feels his face burn as Jaemin pulls out again, stopping just short of continuing. He looks at Renjun, as if for confirmation.

“Are you serious,” Renjun whines. If he has to deal with feeling this empty for one more second, he’s going to die. He’s not even above begging. “Yes, I want it rough, give it to me, come on, Jaemin, please—”

Jaemin laughs and begins to move, hard grip on Renjun’s waist as he fucks him with quick, powerful thrusts. There’s no way this guy doesn’t know what he’s doing, Renjun thinks hazily, helpless to focus on anything but the drag of Jaemin’s cock inside him. It feels so fucking good with Jaemin holding him down. It’s almost too much. Jaemin seems to know exactly what he’s doing when he finds that spot inside Renjun, making sure to hit it on every subsequent thrust, Renjun’s cries growing louder each time.

Renjun hasn’t been fucked this good in so long. It will be a miracle if he can walk tomorrow; the back of his shoulders are already sore from the way Jaemin slams into him, folding him over, pressing him into the sheets. Renjun makes a keening noise on a particularly deep thrust, head lolling to the side as he fights to catch his breath.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Jaemin says, voice gravelly as he grabs Renjun’s chin with a hand and tilts Renjun’s face towards him. “So I can see that pretty face when you come.” Renjun is incapable of responding with words, gasping and trembling as that godforsaken necklace drags against his chest each time Jaemin rocks into him. He doesn’t even realize he’s reaching down until he hears the disapproving click of Jaemin’s tongue, Jaemin’s fingers encircling his wrist. “No touching yourself,” Jaemin says. “Unless you want me to tie your hands together.” He breaks into a grin at Renjun’s weak moan. “Oh, you like that?” A soft kiss to Renjun’s sweaty temple. “Next time, okay?”

Renjun is so close. Every fiber of his being screams for release. “Please, Jaemin,” he begs, unsure of exactly what he’s asking for this time, Jaemin’s thrusts growing increasingly desperate as Renjun writhes and makes pathetic little sounds underneath him. His orgasm is so, so close it hurts. And then Jaemin leans down and bites him.

Sharp teeth sink into the skin over Renjun’s jugular. Renjun bucks, coming with a cry and violent shudder, nerves firing from the tip of his head to his curling toes. He’s pretty sure he blacks out for a minute, eyes fluttering open just in time to see Jaemin stripping the condom off and emptying himself over Renjun’s stomach.

They stay like that for a while, both breathing hard. The tension bleeds from Renjun’s body, leaving him content and boneless. Jaemin is watching him when Renjun lifts a shaky hand to his neck to feel for puncture marks, but the skin doesn’t seem to be broken.

“Told you I wouldn’t hurt you,” Jaemin says with an exaggerated wink. “Unless you want me to—”

It takes Renjun a second to realize the sensation of falling isn’t metaphorical. There’s an ominous creak, a snap that doesn’t sound promising, and a jerk as the bed gives way beneath them. Renjun makes an embarrassing, high-pitched noise as the small drop sends them tumbling into each other.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jaemin apologizes as he pulls his weight off Renjun, laughing once he’s sure Renjun is fine. “Shit. I don’t think I assembled the bed very well.”

“What the fuck just happened,” Renjun whines. He feels like he left his heart behind when they fell towards the floor. This has to be the most ridiculous post-sex comedown ever, which isn’t all that surprising considering it’s Jaemin. Renjun guesses it’s kind of funny. Until he realizes the same thing happened in Breaking Dawn: Part One.

“We can say I fucked you so hard the bed broke.”

“Yeah, right,” Renjun scoffs. But that reminds him: “You’re not a virgin.”

“I never said I was.”

“But you let me believe it,” Renjun complains. “Why didn’t you fuck me like that from the start?”

“I can’t read your mind, you know.” There’s a softness in Jaemin’s eyes, a contrast to the sharpness of his features. “I wanted to make sure it was what you wanted. Besides, you’re hot when you’re bossy.”

Renjun shakes his head, but he positions himself on the broken bed so that he’s facing Jaemin fully. He’s tired, and sticky, and there’s come drying on his stomach, but that can wait just a bit longer. The way Jaemin is looking at him is nothing short of adoring, and something feels right about lying next to him like this. Renjun has never before felt so sappy over someone.

“I really like you,” Renjun murmurs.

“Thank you,” Jaemin says. “I really like you too.” And then he leans in close and whispers: “You’re exactly my brand of heroin.”

Renjun opens his mouth to deliver a snappy comeback, but it dies on his tongue. His whole body feels warm. What the fuck. That absolute abomination of a line actually sounded romantic when Jaemin said it. Renjun wants to hear him say it again.

He would rather die than ask him to repeat it, though, so Renjun ignores his trembling heart and concentrates on breathing in time with Jaemin. It’s crazy that he feels so strongly about him despite all his unanswered questions. But that, too, can be changed.

“Hey,” Renjun says, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with Jaemin’s. “What’s your major?”

“Medicine,” Jaemin answers, a little reluctantly.

“You’re a med student?” That checks out—volunteering at the blood donation drive and not getting out much, in Jaemin’s words. “Why are you so secretive about it?”

“Med students are busy,” Jaemin says simply. “Especially those with jobs. It’s not so bad now, but it’ll probably get bad for me next year. So, Jisung told me not to tell you.”

“You thought I wouldn’t be interested if I knew you were a med student?” Renjun asks. “You took dating advice from Jisung?”

“He was the one who recommended I read Twilight.”

Only a virgin would try and romance someone by reading Twilight. “Oh,” Renjun says.

“It kind of worked, though?” Jaemin loops an arm around Renjun’s waist and pulls him closer. Renjun ends up right up against him, cheek squished against Jaemin’s shoulder, dazzled by his pretty eyes and pretty smile. His heart feels like it’s going to burst.

“It kind of did,” Renjun agrees.

❤️

“Please tell me that’s a mosquito bite on your neck,” Dejun says.

Renjun feels his cheeks heat up. “It’s a mosquito bite.”

“Liar,” Dejun says. “That’s a human bite.”

They’re on their way to the campus bar for a drink, a new weekly tradition Dejun happily agreed to after Renjun marathoned all five Twilight movies with him last weekend. Renjun will take it as a good sign that Dejun took this long to notice his neck, even though he tried his best to cover it up with foundation. At least the marks on his thighs aren’t visible.

The bar isn’t very crowded on weekdays, but Dejun picks a table as far from the counter as possible. “So you don’t get distracted and I can hold an actual conversation with you,” he explains as Renjun gets on tiptoe to wave at Jaemin across the room, distracted.

They get drinks and hold an actual conversation. Two drinks in, it feels appropriate to tell Dejun that he’s one of the nicest people ever and that Renjun is grateful for his friendship. Dejun pretends to be disgusted, but Renjun can tell he likes it. Before he can get his hands on a third drink, Renjun’s phone buzzes with an incoming text from Jaemin. Dejun makes a show of rolling his eyes as Renjun pushes back his chair.

“Don’t be jealous,” Renjun laughs. “I’ll be back. You’ll find your dream man one day.”

“Don’t need one,” Dejun huffs. “After I sign the adoption papers this weekend, I’ll have my own puppy. Her name is Bella.”

Renjun makes Dejun promise to show him pictures before hurrying to the bar. Jaemin is wiping down a glass behind the counter and brightens immediately when he sees him.

“Hi,” Renjun smiles, sliding onto the nearest stool. “What did you want?”

“Wanted to see you.”

“That’s not an emergency.”

Jaemin grins, shameless. He teases Renjun about being drunk and listens to Renjun ramble about his day for a bit, until he has to disappear temporarily to the opposite end of the counter to take someone’s order. Renjun watches him go, wondering if Jaemin will agree to come over tonight if he asks. He knows Jaemin is busy this week, but Renjun really hates losing to Jaemin’s assignments.

“Hey, Jisung,” Renjun calls, making Jisung jump behind the register. “Are you in med too?”

Jisung shakes his head vehemently. “Astronomy,” he says.

“Huh. Does that mean you study the—” Renjun must be tipsier than he thought, because his outstretched arm knocks an empty glass that had been sitting on the bartop in front of him, sending it toppling off the counter. Renjun lunges forward to try and grab it before it falls, outstretched fingers missing by just a little. He isn’t fast enough.

But Jisung is. Jisung seems to appear from nowhere, lightning quick reflexes as he swipes the glass out of the air long before it hits the ground.

Time feels suspended when their eyes meet. Renjun stares at Jisung in shock. Jisung looks horrified as well, eyes growing round as he looks slowly to the glass in his hand. After what feels like an endless pause, Jisung releases it from his grip.

“Oops,” he whispers over the sound of it shattering.

“Jisung,” comes Jaemin’s coo, immediate. “Did you break another glass?”

Renjun tunes out the sound of Jisung’s stuttering and Jaemin coming over to sweep up the mess, resting his head against the countertop. He must actually be drunk to have thought he saw Jisung move like that. The buzz from the alcohol hasn’t worn off in the slightest when a familiar, icy hand squeezes his shoulder.

“Hey,” Jaemin says. “Are you okay?”

Renjun raises his head slowly. Jaemin is looking at him in concern, his expression almost tender. Renjun remembers seeing him for the first time and being awestruck by his beauty, but he now knows that Jaemin is also caring, and patient, and always thinks of others before he thinks of himself. Renjun’s life would be very different if he hadn’t gone to that Halloween party with Dejun in search of vampires. It’s a scary thought.

“We might have met somewhere else,” Jaemin suggests. “Like a blood donation drive. But you’re right. It’s all thanks to the vampires.”

“Are you wearing your chain right now?” Renjun asks, even though he already knows the answer. Jaemin doesn’t ever take it off—as witnessed by Renjun himself. It’s kind of sexy, and Renjun will never pass up an opportunity to see it. Apparently, it was a gift from Jaemin's grandma.

Jaemin reaches under the collar of his shirt and pulls it out. If Renjun weren’t so tipsy, he probably wouldn’t reach across the counter to try and get a closer look at the details on the cross, Jaemin’s face so close to his that Renjun can feel his breath across his cheek. He’s pretty sure he hears Jisung gasp.

A quick glance around the bar tells Renjun there aren’t many students around to watch.

Jaemin tilts his head. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Renjun says. Nothing besides him being unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Jaemin. He hooks a finger around the chain on Jaemin’s neck, tugging him in gently for a kiss.