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Chapter Text

Wonwoo woke up a hundred years after his last “nap.” His throat burned with an uncontrollable need. He was hungry—starving for blood. His body, though immortal, felt weak, as if the century of slumber had drained away the little energy he had left. He rose slowly, his movements clumsy at first, but his vampiric nature quickly helped him regain his balance. His eyes scanned the darkness of the room where he’d been sleeping, and the thick layer of dust covering the furniture testified to how much time had passed. His world, as he remembered it, probably no longer existed. But his need was still the same.

When he finally stepped out into the city, Seoul felt unfamiliar, transformed into a landscape of neon lights and skyscrapers he’d never seen before. Even at this hour, the place was alive: groups of people walked along the sidewalks, the noise of cars was constant, and every corner was lit by giant screens flashing brilliant images. It was a new world to him—a world where he had no idea how to hunt. In the past, finding prey had been easy: the shadows were his allies, the alleys his territory. Now, no one walked alone. Nobody ventured out at night without company.

He knew the best thing to do was to return to the darkness and come up with a plan before acting. But before he could move, he bumped into someone. A warm, strong body collided with his, and the smell of their blood hit him instantly. It was delicious. Wonwoo felt his instincts awaken with an intensity he hadn’t experienced in centuries. His throat burned hotter. The warm blood of this stranger would be the perfect meal.

“Oh, sorry,” the man said, turning to face him. Wonwoo studied him carefully. His skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat under the faint streetlight, and his exposed neck seemed to call to him—begging him to bite. The vampire felt his own heart, dead for centuries, pounding in his ears with an emotion he couldn’t tell was hunger or anticipation.

He was ready to strike, but there were too many people around. Still, his mind was already picturing the feeling of his fangs piercing soft skin, the warmth of blood sliding down his throat. Yet the guy frowned and asked, with genuine concern: “Are you okay? You look really pale—you must be dehydrated.”

Wonwoo stayed silent. If only he knew how true that was. He hadn’t drunk blood in a hundred years.

The stranger didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, he pulled something from his backpack. “Drink this,” he said, holding out a bottle filled with a bright orange liquid.

Wonwoo stared at him in disbelief. “I shouldn’t drink that,” he rasped. That strange substance could never satisfy him. There was only one thing that could.

“Oh? It’ll help—it’s full of electrolytes, good for hydration.” The man looked him over from head to toe, then smiled. “Wow, you’re dressed so fancy. Headed to a party? Sorry to butt in. I think I should take you to the hospital.”

The sincerity in his voice disarmed Wonwoo for a moment. It wasn’t fear he saw in his eyes, but genuine concern. Then the man grabbed his arm, and the vampire tensed. The contact was unexpected. Even through layers of fabric, he could feel the heat of his body—real, living warmth.

The scent of his blood was intoxicating, and Wonwoo almost lost control. His body screamed at him to attack, to sink his fangs into soft flesh and drain him drop by drop. But then the man moved his hand, and his bare skin brushed directly against Wonwoo’s.

“You’re freezing! See? This must be serious.”

The vampire held his breath. The warmth of that touch startled him. He hadn’t felt anything like it in centuries. His victims never had the chance to touch him. But this guy did it without fear.

“I’m a doctor—I’ll take care of you. I can’t believe no one else noticed how pale you are.” His voice was steady, confident. Wonwoo studied him closely. He was handsome—more than he’d noticed at first. But was he naïve, or just too kind?

The human led him to his car, parked in a quiet alley. Wonwoo nearly smiled at how easy this was. The man was even considerate enough to open the passenger door for him. Wonwoo sat down, consumed by anticipation.

As the stranger walked around the car to get in, Wonwoo sharpened his fangs. The moment he got in, he would attack. The moment the engine started, his fate would be sealed.

This prey was almost too easy. He left his neck exposed without a care, his scent was tempting, his trust a mistake. And Wonwoo was ready to claim him.

But as soon as the man got in, before he even sat down fully, his hand shot out and clamped around Wonwoo’s neck with a speed and precision the vampire hadn’t expected. The strength behind his grip wasn’t human. It was firm, dominant—like he’d been waiting for this very moment.

“You’re a vampire,” he said, his voice leaving no room for doubt. His tone was low, almost amused, but there was something in his eyes that set Wonwoo on edge. Then man boylaughed. It wasn’t a normal laugh. It was deep, guttural, echoing through the small space of the car—a laugh that wrapped Wonwoo in a strange mix of threat and unease.

The vampire watched him carefully, and that’s when he saw it. In the dim glow of the dashboard, his teeth flashed for a moment. Not just teeth—fangs. Long, sharp, thicker than a vampire’s. A chill ran down Wonwoo’s spine as he realized what that meant. He was a werewolf.

Wonwoo froze, his mind processing the revelation with a mix of shock and disbelief. A lycanthrope. A natural enemy. A creature just as dangerous as him—maybe even more. His prey had never been prey at all.

The grip on his neck stayed firm. He wasn’t choking him, just making sure Wonwoo couldn’t move. The vampire felt the heat of his skin seeping into his own, that warmth only the living had, the type his kind had long forgotten.

The werewolf tilted his head slightly, watching him with an expression caught between amusement and challenge. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me that caught you off guard,” he said with a mocking smile. “I thought vampires had sharper senses. Or have you been asleep so long you forgot how to recognize a wolf?”

Wonwoo frowned, his mind racing. A mistake. He had made a mistake. He let hunger cloud his judgment, let the tempting scent of blood overwhelm him, and hadn’t realized what this man really was. Now he was trapped in a confined space with an enemy who could rip him apart in seconds if he wanted to.

But Wonwoo had no intention of going down that easily.

“Want me to let you go, baby?” The werewolf’s voice was low, teasing, laced with amusement and challenge. Wonwoo stayed still, every sense on high alert. Despite his strength, despite his nature, he knew he was at a disadvantage here. He couldn’t risk a fight in such a tight space.

“I would—if you’d hide those pretty fangs for me,” the werewolf said, his gaze fixed on Wonwoo’s mouth. It was a command disguised as a request, one that made it clear who was in control of the situation.

The vampire clenched his jaw, furious at being caught like this, but he knew he didn’t have many options. With a conscious effort, his fangs slowly retracted, shifting back into the shape of a human smile. He wasn’t sure the wolf would keep his word—but he hoped he would.

To his surprise, the other man smiled with satisfaction and, true to his promise, released Wonwoo’s neck. The vampire instantly raised a hand to his throat, as if checking it was still intact. He’d recover soon enough, but the lingering memory of that searing warmth left his skin strangely unsettled.

“I’m going to help you, pretty boy,” the werewolf said casually, in a way that unsettled Wonwoo.

The vampire stared at him in disbelief, his dark eyes full of suspicion. Help him. Why would a wolf want to help a vampire? Why hadn’t he killed him already?

Wonwoo quickly scanned his surroundings, calculating his options. If he jumped out of the car now, he could try to run. He was faster than humans, but was he faster than a werewolf? Was it worth the risk? His instincts screamed at him to get away, but his logic kept him in place.

“Don’t look at me like that,” the werewolf went on, smirking. “You’re way too handsome for me to just let you die… or kill you with my own hands.” He paused, and his tone turned more serious. “I don’t do what my ancestors did.”

The words didn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo. His eyes narrowed as he processed them. He knew. He knew what had happened a century ago. The massacre.

Vampires had once ruled from the shadows, hidden deep within society, pulling the strings of kingdoms and emperors. Their powers gave them absolute control over humans, and for centuries, werewolves were nothing more than scattered hunters, unable to challenge the established order. But then everything changed.

They said the rebellion began with a single man. An alpha of the Kim tribe who, according to legend, was no ordinary wolf. Kim Seonghwa, the first werewolf of Korea, possessed unmatched strength and a visceral hatred for vampires. He was the one who united the scattered packs, who taught them to fight in organized ranks, to hunt immortals on their own ground.

The war was short, brutal, and decisive. While vampires slept in their stone coffins and sealed crypts, the wolves invaded their lairs, tearing them apart before they could react. They hunted them like beasts, ripping into their flesh with fangs forged of fire and silver. In just a few decades, vampires went from being the supreme threat to a nearly extinct myth.

Wonwoo survived because he knew how to hide. He slept for a century, buried underground, while his brothers fell one after another. He woke up in a world that no longer belonged to him—a world where the nights that had once been theirs were now ruled by wolves.

The sound of the engine snapped him out of his thoughts as the car started moving. Wonwoo kept his eyes on every detail around him, still weighing whether to escape, when the other man spoke again.

“Not going to tell me your name?” he asked with feigned innocence. “Or would you rather I keep calling you ‘baby’ or ‘pretty’?”

The way he said it—the sheer audacity of playing with him like that—angered Wonwoo deeply. “Jeon Wonwoo,” he spat coldly.

The werewolf nodded with a grin, as if savoring the moment. “A pleasure, Mr. Jeon Wonwoo,” he replied in an overly formal tone before softening his voice. “My name is Kim Mingyu.”

Wonwoo’s body tensed instantly. Kim. That surname. A chill ran down his spine. It wasn’t just any name. It wasn’t meaningless. His mind jumped straight to the stories from a century ago, to the names whispered with fear among the few vampires who had survived.

Kim… wasn’t that the name of the first werewolf in Korea? His breath hitched ever so slightly. Kim Seonghwa hadn’t only been the first werewolf in the country, but the one directly responsible for the fall of his kind. A ruthless leader who had left no stone unturned in his mission to wipe out vampires. His bloodline was said to be the strongest, the most feared among all the packs.

If Kim Mingyu carried that name… what did it mean? Was he a direct descendant? The heir of the monster who had destroyed his people? And more importantly… why was he helping him?

“Well then, Wonwoo. How long has it been since you drank blood?”

The question came out of nowhere, and Mingyu’s soft tone—so at odds with his imposing presence—caught him completely off guard. Why would a werewolf care about something so personal? His mind was still spinning from their earlier exchange, but curiosity pushed him to answer, even as discomfort gnawed at his chest.

“A hundred years.” The words came out cold, dripping with indifference, as if it meant nothing. But inside, the weight of his starvation stalked him like a shadow—though he refused to show weakness.

Mingyu’s low whistle snapped him out of his thoughts. “That explains why you look like a walking corpse.”

The vampire bristled, an involuntary growl slipping out, but the werewolf only laughed, clearly enjoying his discomfort. It was obvious this wolf took pleasure in every second of it. The mocking, almost playful tone wasn’t at all what Wonwoo expected from a creature who had survived the vampire hunts for so long.

“If you don’t want to starve to death, you’d better figure out how to feed yourself soon.” Mingyu’s warning didn’t go unnoticed, but the way he said it sounded more like an invitation to a game, as if the situation was just another challenge to him.

Wonwoo shut his eyes for a moment, letting out a breath of exasperation. “I don’t need a werewolf giving me advice.”

The sarcasm was unmistakable, but Mingyu showed no hint of offense. On the contrary, his expression stayed calm, almost amused, like he was enjoying their back-and-forth.

“No, but maybe you do need help.” The words were simple, but the implication behind them made Wonwoo raise an eyebrow, thrown off by the sudden turn in the conversation. Help. From a werewolf. Was he serious? Despite what the vampire thought, Mingyu’s tone wasn’t mocking or disdainful. It was something else… something genuine.

Wonwoo frowned, still not fully understanding. “Why would you help me?”

Mingyu just shrugged—a gesture so casual it almost looked indifferent. But his eyes gleamed with something more than that. “Because I like you. And because it’d be a shame for such a pretty vampire to disappear into the shadows just because he doesn’t know how to adapt to the city.”

The comment hit harder than Wonwoo wanted to admit. The words sounded soft, but the truth in them was sharp: he was lost in a world he no longer knew. He had slept too long, avoided humans for too long, and in the process had become a shadow—and now that very shadow was consuming him. But Mingyu, this strange wolf with his strange behavior, was calling him “pretty” with a mix of curiosity and warmth.

Wonwoo eyed him with distrust, his expression making it clear he wasn’t about to be convinced so easily. “And how exactly do you plan to help me?”

The answer came with a smile that was more of a challenge than a promise. Mingyu turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life as the werewolf fixed him with a steady look. “We’re going to get you some blood.”

The idea hung between them. Mingyu’s promise wasn’t just empty comfort—it sounded real. The vampire weighed the possibility. He had spent too long relying only on instinct and darkness. This city was full of new rules, new threats. The thought of getting blood without attacking someone, without a violent ambush, tempted him more than he wanted to admit.

He didn’t know if this werewolf was playing with him or if he truly saw him as someone worth helping. Maybe Mingyu wasn’t an enemy after all. Maybe there was something else hidden beneath that carefree attitude.

For the first time in a long while, Wonwoo considered the possibility of someone offering a hand without dark intentions. Could this be the beginning of some strange deal between two enemy species? Or was it just another game for the werewolf?

Still, something inside him urged him to go along, to see what Mingyu really wanted from him. Because no matter how suspicious he was, there was something in the wolf’s offer that didn’t sound entirely bad. After all, if a werewolf wanted to help a vampire, maybe the world wasn’t as dangerous as he thought.

“And how do you plan on getting blood?” The question slipped from Wonwoo’s lips, tinged with distrust. Meanwhile, Mingyu turned the wheel with effortless ease, unhurried, as if everything were completely under control. His smile, relaxed and self-assured, curved across his face.

“Modern times, my friend. You don’t need to stalk humans in dark alleys anymore.”

Wonwoo arched a brow, trying to keep up with the conversation. “What are you talking about?”

Mingyu shot him a sideways glance as he rounded a corner, his voice carrying a playful edge. “Hospitals, blood banks, donors… There are more options now.”

The vampire clicked his tongue, utterly unconvinced. “I doubt they’d let me walk into a hospital and ask for a bag of blood like I’m just some regular human.”

Mingyu let out a laugh that echoed inside the car. There was something about it—a mix of confidence and amusement—that made it seem like he’d had everything under control from the start.

“Of course not. But there are other ways.” As he spoke, he took a sharper turn, steering them into a less busy district. The buildings here were smaller, the neon lights flickering weakly, casting ghostly shadows across the empty streets. The bars and nightspots looked deserted, as if the whole place had been put on pause. Mingyu didn’t stop until he pulled into a back alley, darker than the rest.

“Where are we?” Wonwoo asked, suspicion lacing his voice. The setting made him feel even more vulnerable—a feeling he despised.

Mingyu killed the engine with a flick of his wrist, then shot him a playful grin before looking his way. “A friend of mine runs a… special business. You’ll like it.”

Before the vampire could get another word out, Mingyu was already out of the car, striding toward a metal door nearly swallowed by the shadows. A small sliding window snapped open instantly, revealing a pair of dark eyes that inspected them closely.

“What do you want, wolf?” a rough voice growled from the other side.

“Relax, Seungcheol. I just brought someone who needs… service.”

The clatter of bolts sliding back filled the air before the door creaked open. A tall man with a stern look stepped aside, arms crossed as he watched the newcomers. The scent in the air—sharp, unmistakable—made Wonwoo freeze for a moment. The smell of another vampire was impossible to mistake.

“I don’t usually deal with strangers,” the vampire said in a cautious, almost indifferent tone, his gaze settling on Gyu.

Mingyu, on the other hand, stayed completely at ease, as if there were no reason at all to worry. “This guy woke up after a hundred years without drinking blood. He won’t make it if you don’t help him.”

Seungcheol stared at him for a long moment, his eyes scrutinizing Wonwoo, who couldn’t help but feel uncomfortably examined. “A hundred years?”

The vampire nodded without hesitation. “I have been sleeping all this time.”

The owner of the place frowned, as if turning the words over in his mind. But at last, he stepped back and moved aside, giving them room to enter. “Come in.”

Wonwoo hesitated for a second, but he didn’t have many options. In the end, he followed Seungcheol inside the building, the werewolf right at his heels. The door slammed shut behind them with a heavy bang, and a dim hallway led them into a larger room. Inside, the lights flickered weakly, while the refrigerators and scattered papers on a table gave the place more of an industrial vibe than a welcoming one.

“What is all this?” Wonwoo muttered, eyeing his surroundings warily.

Without wasting time, Seungcheol opened one of the refrigerators and pulled out a bag filled with dark red liquid. His face stayed expressionless as he spoke.

“I’ve got access to blood reserves… don’t ask how,” he said flatly. “It’s not as fresh as drinking straight from a human, but it’ll do.”

The vampire swallowed hard, unable to stop himself. Just seeing the bag stirred up an intense, almost primal need. The smell, the texture… everything his body had been craving for so long.

“How much does it cost?” he finally asked, trying to keep his voice cautious, even as desire rippled through him.

Seungcheol let out a short, almost sarcastic laugh. “The first one’s free. Think of it as a favor.”

Wonwoo didn’t waste a second. He grabbed the bag with trembling hands, bit through the end quickly, and let the blood flood his mouth. The instant it hit his tongue, a shiver ran down his spine. Warmth seeped back into his skin, life returned to his body, and his senses sharpened at once.

“Wow, you were worse off than I thought,” Mingyu remarked, leaning casually against the wall, watching the vampire with an expression caught between amusement and curiosity.

Wonwoo didn’t say a word until he finished every last drop, the empty bag limp in his hands. Calm settled over him, but he could feel something had shifted inside. Seungcheol watched him closely, his expression unreadable, as if he were waiting for something else.

“If you need more, we can make a deal. But I’ll warn you now—nothing in this world comes free.”

The vampire nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, still tasting the blood on his lips. “I understand.”

Mingyu clapped him on the back, clearly pleased. “See? Told you there were other options.”

For a moment, Wonwoo couldn’t help but look at him with gratitude, though he wasn’t sure he could fully trust a werewolf who had helped him for reasons he still didn’t understand. Maybe a wolf helping a vampire wasn’t as strange as he’d always thought.

And yet, something still didn’t add up. Questions lingered in his mind, and a strange feeling began to stir inside him every time Mingyu looked at him. A feeling that had nothing to do with a vampire’s predator instinct. Something else… something that defied everything he thought he knew about werewolves and vampires.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

A while later, Mingyu and Wonwoo walked out of Seungcheol’s stash, their footsteps echoing down the concrete hallway. The air was thick with the metallic, heavy scent of blood that still lingered. Mingyu looked more relaxed, but Wonwoo couldn’t stop thinking about the taste and the sensation of the blood he’d just had—a taste that had brought him back to life, or at least it felt that way. Just as they were about to step outside, Seungcheol stopped them, calling out to Mingyu with a low, curious voice. The vampire turned to face the owner of the place, who pulled him a few steps away from Wonwoo without breaking his intense gaze.

“What made you bring him here, Mingyu?” Seungcheol’s question was more serious than Mingyu had expected, his tone carrying both wonder and unease. “As far as I knew, I was the only vampire left alive in Korea…”

Mingyu didn’t flinch, answering with complete confidence and that ever-present, easy smile. “I like him.”

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, clearly baffled. “Are you serious, Kim Mingyu? You know your dad will hate this… You could never be in a relationship with him.”

The vampire let out a light laugh, as if Seungcheol’s concern was unnecessary. “You’re my friend, and my dad… he doesn’t even know you exist, so there won’t be any problem.”

But Seungcheol didn’t look convinced. No matter how calmly Mingyu spoke, he knew these things were never that simple—especially with something this delicate. “Even so, it’s obvious he doesn’t trust you at all… You know it’ll be really hard to earn his trust.”

Still optimistic, Mingyu replied with a playful tone. “But I earned your trust, didn’t I? I’m like a vampire charmer.” His grin was wide and goofy, almost childish. The words might have sounded like a joke to ease the tension, but he wasn’t about to give up so easily. He liked Wonwoo, and nothing was going to stop him. Whatever Seungcheol said, he wanted him by his side—and he wasn’t letting go that easily.

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, torn between resignation and concern. He knew Mingyu was stubborn, but he couldn’t ignore the complications this might cause. “We’d better not keep him waiting, or… Wait, what if he snatches another blood bag? We shouldn’t have left him alone…” His tone suddenly shifted, sharper with urgency, as the possibilities hit him. He quickly stepped toward the door and slipped outside, looking for Wonwoo, who was patiently waiting at the entrance.

The atmosphere had shifted, subtly but unmistakably. Now that they were out of the stash, the night air greeted them, cool and open. But for Mingyu, the doubts Seungcheol had left behind didn’t fade so easily. Was he really doing the right thing? Was his excitement about Wonwoo enough to face the risks that came with it? He didn’t know, but something deep inside told him it was worth trying.

As for Seungcheol, he wasn’t about to let Mingyu charge ahead without weighing the consequences. He’d always been an ally, but this time felt different—like more was at stake than Mingyu was willing to admit. And as he approached Wonwoo, he could see it on his face: that mix of uncertainty and something else. The raw vulnerability of a vampire who had woken after a century, unsure what kind of world he’d stepped into.

Mingyu finally came over, and the tension between the three of them was almost tangible. For now, though, the questions remained unanswered. The future between Mingyu and Wonwoo was still shrouded in shadows.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

“Want me to drive you home, Wonwoo?” Mingyu’s voice broke the silence in the car, the soft hum of the engine accompanying his words. They were back inside, the atmosphere a little tense from the awkwardness of the situation, but with a faint sense of relief slowly seeping in. Clearer now, after the dose of blood Seungcheol had given him, Wonwoo no longer felt the crushing exhaustion he had before. Still, something deep inside told him the thirst would return soon enough—that need that could only be satisfied in one very specific way.

“Alright, thanks, Mingyu… And…” Wonwoo’s voice dropped, thoughtful, almost like he was weighing every word. “Well… what do I need to do to get Seungcheol to give me blood? I need it… I don’t think I can go back to sleeping another hundred years, not now…” The honesty in his words surprised even him. At this point, all the vampire could do was trust Mingyu and Seungcheol—ironic, no doubt. But what other choice did he have? The thought of giving in to that constant hunger terrified him, and he couldn’t risk falling apart completely. And yet, here he was, sitting beside Mingyu, in his car, at his mercy. Behind him loomed the tradition of his bloodline, the echoes of his ancestors who would surely be disappointed to see him like this, so vulnerable.

Mingyu smiled easily, as if that trust were the most natural thing in the world. “You don’t have to go through Seungcheol. I can give you blood myself… I only took you to him because it was an emergency.” His tone was calm, casual, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Wonwoo only felt more confused by his words.

“Huh? How are you going to get it?” he asked, his doubt written plain across his face, squinting at Mingyu as he tried to understand how any of this worked.

Mingyu briefly tore his eyes from the road, casting a quick, furtive glance at Wonwoo that didn’t go unnoticed. For a split second, his expression softened, and the smile he gave him lingered just a little longer. Now that he had drank blood, Wonwoo looked more like himself again. His skin, though still pale, seemed healthier, his face fuller. His lips, once dry and cracked, now looked plump, more alive. “Didn’t I tell you before, pretty boy? Sorry, Wonwoo… I’m a doctor.” Mingyu explained as he smoothly steered the car down the street that had led them to Seungcheol. “Basically, I give blood to Cheol because I know he needs it… And now I can set aside some reserves for you too.”

Mingyu’s words left Wonwoo thoughtful, though his expression was still clouded with confusion. “And what do you want in return? Seungcheol said it, didn’t he? Nothing in this world is for free…” His voice was pensive, careful, like he was weighing every possibility, analyzing every risk hidden in Mingyu’s offer.

This time Mingyu’s gaze didn’t drift back to the road—it lingered on Wonwoo. For a few seconds, he looked at him deeply, almost as if he were taking in every detail he hadn’t noticed before. With blood in his system, Wonwoo was regaining his shape, his warmth seeping back into his skin. But there was something else too, something far more captivating, that made him look even… more alluring. The vampire’s lips parted slightly as Mingyu studied him. “He’s right…” Mingyu murmured, exhaling as though considering his options. “Well, in exchange for the blood… I want you to go out with me.”

The words hung in the air between them. Outside, the wind rustled the trees, but inside the car, the air thickened with tension, charged with expectation. “Go out with you? Where do you want to go?” Wonwoo asked, clearly not catching the full meaning, his innocent expression as unshakable as ever. Mingyu couldn’t help but laugh, as if Wonwoo’s question was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. There was no anger in his laugh, no malice—just that mischievous kind of amusement that probably only he understood.

“No, uh…” Mingyu began, flashing that charming smile again, “I mean, I want you to date me, okay?” He said it directly, but with such casual ease it almost sounded like a joke—except for the seriousness in his eyes that left no doubt he meant it.

Wonwoo opened his mouth as if to answer, then froze. The words wouldn’t come, stuck in his throat. After everything he had been through, after all the chaos surrounding him, he suddenly found himself in completely unfamiliar territory. Something as simple as a date with Mingyu felt so out of place, so unexpected.

Chapter Text

When they got to Wonwoo’s house, Mingyu also stepped out of his car and walked right into the old building without even asking for permission.

“Wow! This place could really use a good remodel,” he said as his eyes roamed over the inside of the home. The once-white paint on the walls had turned yellowish with time, showing traces of dampness and neglect. Cobwebs hung in every corner, some even swaying slightly with the movement of the air. Parts of the plaster were peeling off, exposing the wooden structure underneath, eaten away by the years. “And we definitely need some better lighting…”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by the comment. “I’m a vampire, you dumb wolf. Light hurts me.” His voice came out flat, as if the mere thought of sunlight was irritating.

Mingyu blushed instantly, his hand going nervously to the back of his neck. “Sorry, sorry, beautiful. I forgot.” His tone was sincere, but that last word made Wonwoo glance at him suspiciously.

“Why do you keep calling me ‘beautiful’ if you already know my name?” the vampire asked, narrowing his eyes with caution.

Mingyu smirked smugly, like he’d been waiting a long time for that question. “Sorry again… It’s just that I really do think you’re beautiful.” He held Wonwoo’s gaze without flinching. The air between them grew tense, but the werewolf shifted his focus back to the state of the house. “And I mean it… I could fix this place up for you.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, doubtful. “Didn’t you say you work as a doctor? When are you going to have time to do a remodel?” His tone was a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

Mingyu grinned, shrugging. “For you, I’ve got all the time in the world.” He winked, bold and shameless, making Wonwoo cross his arms, his expression still cold and unreadable.

The vampire let out a sigh before speaking. “You also keep saying you want to go on dates with me… right? Well, I can’t. I can only go out at night, and there’s not much to do at those hours.”

Mingyu let out a laugh at that excuse. “You’re wrong, pretty boy… There are plenty of things you can do at night.” His eyes sparkled with amusement. “And actually, I could free up all my nights just for you… if that’s what you want.”

He winked again, and this time Wonwoo looked away, as if the werewolf’s persistence was starting to get to him somehow. “You sound completely insane. Werewolves and vampires don’t date.”

Mingyu smiled, like he’d been waiting for exactly that response. “Oh, Wonwoo… That was back then. I’m sure things are different now. Besides… I’ve never seen a vampire in my life, you know? Only in movies. And honestly, in the new Nosferatu film he looked really ugly… But you…” His gaze softened. “You’re unbelievably beautiful.”

Wonwoo felt a strange shiver crawl up his spine. He wasn’t used to that kind of praise. But even with that odd sensation, something inside him told him Mingyu wasn’t joking.

“But… so, I go out with you at night and you… you’ll provide me with blood?” the vampire asked carefully, still weighing the idea.

Mingyu nodded eagerly. “That’s right, Wonwoo. You go out with me, I reward you with blood…”

The vampire frowned, picking up something in the way the wolf said it.

“Although you haven’t explained your terms and conditions…” His eyes analyzed him coldly. “What exactly does ‘going out with you’ mean, Mingyu?”

The werewolf grinned mischievously, taking a step closer. “Well, that depends on how good you are, pretty boy.” This time, his voice dropped to a whisper, one that sent a slight shiver over the vampire’s pale skin.

Wonwoo felt his undead heart beating a little faster than usual. He swallowed, his throat dry, as if merely considering the possibility was draining what little energy he had left. He began pacing in circles in the foyer of his home, eyes fixed on the floor, his thoughts spiraling into a storm of doubts and contradictions.

“Dating a werewolf… who could kill me…” he murmured to himself, though his voice—barely above a whisper—still carried in the silent house.

Mingyu, watching him with his arms crossed and a playful smile on his lips, let out a soft chuckle, entertained by the vampire’s inner struggle. Still, he didn’t interrupt; it was too interesting to see him wrestle with himself.

“…Or die of thirst from lack of blood… I… can I even die?” Wonwoo went on, his steps slowing as he reflected on his own nature. His fingers trembled slightly—not out of fear, but uncertainty. “I’ll just dry up, wither away like a forgotten flower… But…”

He stopped for a moment, a chill running down his back as he pictured his body weakening day after day. The thought of losing his strength until he became nothing more than an empty shell terrified him.

Seeing the worry written all over Wonwoo’s face, Mingyu decided to step in before the vampire managed to convince himself of the worst.

“I’ll leave you to think it over on your own…” he said in a casual tone, though there was a trace of sweetness in his voice. He touched his chin, as if suddenly remembering something important. “When you get thirsty, you can… uh… Oh, god, you don’t have a cell phone, do you?”

The werewolf sighed, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to find a solution to their obvious lack of communication. “Uh… Well then, how many days should I wait before coming back to see you?” he asked with a mischievous grin. “Our love will be old-fashioned.”

He chuckled at his own joke, but Wonwoo only sighed, feeling like his fate was already written. “I won’t make you wait, Mingyu.” This time his voice was steady, resolute. He stopped in his tracks and looked him straight in the eyes, making it clear that his choice had been made.

Mingyu tilted his head slightly, waiting for him to continue.

“Alright… I’ll go out with you.” The first time he said it, there was still a trace of hesitation in his tone, as if saying the words aloud still left him room to take them back.

But then he drew in an unnecessary breath and repeated it with greater conviction, as if speaking it into existence was the same as signing a contract with his own fate. “I’ll go out with you.”

Mingyu smiled, fully satisfied. And just like that, without even realizing it, Wonwoo sealed his fate with those words.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

What are you doing tonight?

Mingyu heard the notification sound and grabbed his phone with one hand while fixing his hair in front of the mirror with the other. On the screen, he saw the message from Seungcheol.

I’ve got a date.

He replied without thinking too much, his fingers moving quickly before focusing back on his reflection. He straightened the collar of his jacket, smoothed down his shirt, and smiled smugly. He looked good. More than ready. But then, his phone buzzed again. And again. And again.

You’ve got a date?
With who?
MINGYU! Don’t tell me…

Mingyu burst out laughing at Seungcheol’s flood of messages. He knew him too well—he could practically picture his friend’s look of disbelief and frustration on the other side of the screen.

Well, then I won’t tell you.

He typed playfully, adding a laughing emoji. The reaction came instantly.

Have you lost your mind, Mingyu? How are you going out with a vampire?

Mingyu let out a sigh. He wasn’t surprised; it was only natural for Seungcheol to react that way. After all, wolves and vampires didn’t mix. At least, not in the stories—those old tales everyone grew up hearing. But this wasn’t a story.

You’ve got nothing to worry about, Cheollie.

He typed with confidence, hoping his friend would drop it. But of course, Seungcheol wasn’t the type to give up so easily.

Mingyu, we need to talk…

Mingyu read the message, but instead of replying, his gaze drifted toward the clock on the wall. It was getting late. Wonwoo would be waiting.

We’ll talk later, Cheol. I’ve got to head out now.

Without waiting for an answer, he locked his phone and set it to Do Not Disturb. He didn’t need distractions. Smiling to himself, he grabbed his keys and left the house. The night was just beginning.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

The date Mingyu had planned for tonight was simple, but carefully thought out in every detail. He didn’t know exactly what kind of food vampires enjoyed—if they even enjoyed anything besides blood—so he tried to keep the menu as neutral as possible. He prepared a cheese board with different textures and flavors, ranging from soft and creamy to strong and aged. He also included a selection of wines, making sure they were all red, since he figured the dark color might resemble what Wonwoo was used to. And, of course, the most important thing: a good supply of fresh blood, carefully stored in bags to keep its quality intact.

Beyond the food, Mingyu had also thought about communication. He knew Wonwoo didn’t own a cell phone, which made staying in touch almost impossible. So he bought one for him, choosing a simple but reliable model. He planned to teach him the basics—sending texts, making calls, answering when needed. He wasn’t sure how interested Wonwoo would be in modern technology, but it was worth a try.

For the occasion, Mingyu also decided to dress formally. He didn’t want Wonwoo to feel out of place, so he went for something similar to his style: a perfectly tailored dark suit, elegant, with a crisp ironed shirt and spotless shoes. Maybe it was unnecessary effort, but to him, it was worth it. It had only been a couple of days since they last saw each other, but the anticipation for this meeting made it feel like an eternity.

The clock hands struck 8 PM. It was already completely dark, which meant Wonwoo had no excuse not to open the door. Taking a deep breath, Mingyu knocked on the wood with his knuckles, waiting.

It only took a couple of seconds before the door opened and Wonwoo’s silhouette appeared in front of him. But something was off.

His skin, which just days ago had regained some color, was pale again, giving him an almost ghostly look. His lips, usually firm and defined, were slightly dry. The moment their eyes met, Mingyu’s heart sank a little.

Wonwoo let him in without a word. As soon as Mingyu stepped over the threshold, he acted on instinct. Without wasting a second, he pulled the large blood supply from his backpack and held it firmly in front of him. Wonwoo’s eyes lit up immediately. 

“Of course it’s for you, and since I know you’re hungry, here… You can drink it before our date,” Mingyu said gently.

If Wonwoo had had more blood in his body at that moment, he probably would’ve blushed. But in his current state, all he could do was take the bag with both hands, turn away, and start drinking.

For some reason, he held himself back. He didn’t want to look like some savage in front of Mingyu, didn’t want him to see him as a desperate predator starving for a meal. So he forced himself to drink with restraint, he turned his back and Mingyu, even though his body demanded otherwise.

Meanwhile, Mingyu watched in silence. Maybe it was a little strange that he liked watching, but he couldn’t help it. He knew that as soon as the vital liquid entered Wonwoo’s system, his face would shift into that mix of relief and pleasure—and just the thought of seeing that was… intoxicating.

Wonwoo finished drinking and turned back to him. He looked different now—more alive, a renewed energy shining in his expression. His fangs, normally hidden, had slipped out naturally, and Mingyu noticed a small drop of blood sliding down the corner of his lips.

Without thinking too much, his first instinct was to lift his hand and wipe it away with his thumb. But before he could pull back, Wonwoo gently grabbed his hand.

Mingyu felt a shiver run through his body when the vampire’s tongue brushed against his skin, slowly licking the blood from his finger. It was a strange sensation—intimate, almost forbidden. He held his breath and nearly let out a moan.

Wonwoo smiled with satisfaction once his finger was completely clean. For him, this little gesture was nothing more than a playful act, but for Mingyu… well, he was still frozen in place.

The vampire let out a soft chuckle. Now that his vitality was returning, his energy was beginning to resurface. “Come on, Mingyu…” he said calmly, moving through the foyer. Mingyu followed, unable to shake off what had just happened.

When he stepped into the living room, he was greeted by a very different atmosphere than he was used to. Candlelight faintly lit the space, casting dancing shadows along the walls. Of course, Wonwoo’s house had no electricity. Mingyu felt a little foolish when it hit him that before teaching him how to use a phone, he’d first have to make sure he had somewhere to charge it.

Despite the lack of modernity, the living room had its own charm. It was cozy in its way, with old armchairs that, though a bit worn with time, were perfectly clean. It looked like Wonwoo had made an effort to dust, at least enough for the place to feel livable.

Mingyu smiled. Yes, maybe this date wasn’t quite what he had pictured… but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be perfect.

Overall, the room carried a pleasant scent—a subtle blend of aged wood, candle wax, and the faint metallic tinge in the air. The dimness gave it a near-mystical atmosphere, with shadows swaying softly on the walls in the flicker of the candles. It felt warm, despite the obvious absence of modern comforts.

“Have a seat,” Wonwoo said, motioning lightly with his hand.

Mingyu obeyed without hesitation, dropping himself right in the middle of the old dark velvet sofa, which creaked faintly under his weight. Leaning forward with excitement, he carefully pulled out the wooden board he had prepared. With quick, practiced movements, he began arranging the items he had brought: thin slices of cheese, dried fruit, cured ham, and fresh fruit, everything laid out with precision to make the spread look as appetizing as possible.

Wonwoo, seated beside him, watched with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. He leaned in a little closer, tilting his head to sniff the food. The moment his nose picked up the scent of dairy and cured meat, he wrinkled his nose and pulled back slightly, clearly uncomfortable.

“What’s that?” he asked in a neutral tone, though his lack of interest was obvious.

Mingyu, who had been distracted by how the candlelight highlighted Wonwoo’s features, blinked and quickly snapped back to attention.

“I wasn’t sure if you ate anything besides blood, so I brought cheese, ham, and some other snacks… Maybe you’ll like them,” he said with a nervous smile, hoping he’d at least give the food a chance.

But Wonwoo shook his head firmly. “No, I don’t think so…” he replied calmly, leaning back against the sofa with an indifferent expression.

Mingyu wasn’t about to give up so easily. “How do you know you won’t like them if you’ve never tried?” he countered with a small laugh, watching the vampire closely.

Wonwoo looked at him unbothered, but didn’t answer right away. Instead, his eyes wandered to the most colorful part of the board, where strawberries and blueberries stood out. Their bright, reddish tones immediately caught his attention, vaguely reminding him of the color of fresh blood.

“I only drink on blood… But…” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on the fruit.

Mingyu noticed his interest and seized the moment. “Come on…” he said, gently picking up a strawberry between his fingers and holding it to Wonwoo’s lips. “Try this one—you’ll like it.”

The vampire hesitated for a moment. His eyes flicked from the fruit to Mingyu’s expectant gaze. After a brief pause, he parted his lips and let the small fruit slip into his mouth. The sensation was strange at first; his tongue was used only to the thick, metallic taste of blood. But when his teeth broke the strawberry’s skin and its sweet, slightly tart juice spread across his tongue, his senses reacted in an unexpected way.

“Mmm…” a faint sound escaped his throat as he chewed the fruit slowly, savoring the surprising experience. “You were right, Mingyu… I liked that. Can I have another?”

Mingyu felt a strange warmth in his chest at the sight of Wonwoo’s satisfied expression. He nodded with a smile, and this time, the vampire picked up a strawberry himself, eating it with more confidence. Maybe he couldn’t change his diet, but at least Mingyu had found something else he could enjoy. And somehow, that was enough to make him happy.

After a while, Wonwoo decided to try each item on the board, though his reaction to the cheese and ham made it pretty clear those flavors weren’t for him. His brow furrowed slightly as he chewed, and after a moment of consideration, he shook his head in disapproval. It didn’t take long before he pushed those bites to the side, leaving Mingyu to devour them without a second thought.

The reddish fruits and the nuts, on the other hand, did manage to spark his interest. There was something about their texture and subtle natural sweetness that he found more tolerable—though without question, strawberries were the clear winners. Wonwoo even let out a small sigh of satisfaction as he bit into an especially juicy one, its juice staining his lips with an even deeper shade of crimson.

“You should’ve just made a whole table of strawberries. That would’ve made me much happier,” he muttered with fake annoyance, crossing his arms as if already planning to demand a better menu next time.

Mingyu, for his part, had to hold himself back from getting lost in the sight before him. Wonwoo’s lips, glistening and tinted red from the strawberries, looked dangerously tempting. For a moment, the thought of kissing him flashed through his mind, but he only sighed and gave a playful smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind for our next date, pretty boy,” he teased.

Wonwoo gave the slightest smile at the comment, but his expression shifted to something more serious within seconds. His gaze drifted toward the dim glow of the candles before he finally spoke.

“By the way, Mingyu… Well, I… I wanted to talk to you about that remodeling you mentioned…” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “Actually, I want the house to stay exactly as it is. This is my place—it’s the only thing that hasn’t changed all this time, and I want to keep it that way.”

His tone, though steady, carried a touch of nostalgia. Mingyu watched him in silence for a moment, understanding the weight behind his words. The house wasn’t just walls and furniture for Wonwoo; it was his anchor in a world that never stopped moving.

“I get it, Wonwoo… I respect your decision,” he answered sincerely, without pushing him to reconsider.

Still, a thought crossed his mind, reminding him of the gift he’d brought along.

“Oh… but I think I’ll at least have to set you up with a power outlet because…” As he spoke, he dug into his backpack and pulled out a small box. “I brought you this.”

Wonwoo eyed the object with curiosity, tilting his head. When the screen lit up, the concept was completely foreign to him.

Mingyu powered on the device and started explaining the basics: how to turn it off and on, how to use the camera, and even tried to convince him to take a picture. Wonwoo, however, didn’t seem all that interested in photographing himself, so instead he aimed the lens at the burning candles, capturing their soft glow.

“This way you can let me know when you need blood by sending me a message,” Mingyu explained, saving his number into the phone.

Wonwoo nodded slowly, then lifted his gaze and looked him straight in the eyes, his expression serious.

“And what if I need it every three days?” he asked, his tone sounding more like a careful calculation than a genuine question.

Mingyu didn’t hesitate to reply, his smile tender but with a hint of mischief. “Then we’ll have a date every three days.”

Wonwoo opened his mouth as if he were about to protest, but then closed it again, thinking it over more calmly. The idea of seeing Mingyu that often unsettled him… but it didn’t exactly feel like a punishment either.

This first date had been unusually pleasant. Maybe it helped that Mingyu had given him blood right away, putting him in a better mood, but even after that, the night unfolded with an unexpected ease. There was no awkwardness, no heavy silences—just company that, to his surprise, didn’t feel unpleasant at all.

He discovered he liked strawberries and wine. He discovered Mingyu had a peculiar kind of charm. Yes, he was a werewolf, and that was a detail impossible to ignore, but under the soft candlelight, his tan skin seemed even warmer, his features softer.

The date had been calm, something Wonwoo found himself able to enjoy without feeling overwhelmed. Yes… he could definitely be okay with all this. After all, he’d get to spend time with Gyu—and, most importantly, he’d always have blood available when he needed it.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

For their next date, Mingyu didn’t forget to bring a bunch of strawberries. He knew they were Wonwoo’s favorite fruit and that every time he tasted them, his expression changed in the most charming way. But this time, Gyu also decided to bring along a couple of burgers, hoping to expand the vampire’s range of flavors. He enjoyed watching his reactions—finding out which foods he liked and which ones made him wrinkle his nose in distaste.

When he arrived at the vampire’s house, Wonwoo’s eyes lit up at the sight of the large stash of strawberries Mingyu had brought. His excitement was so genuine that, for a moment, he seemed to forget everything else. Still, in Mingyu’s other hand was a bag of blood—reminding Wonwoo that he needed to prioritize his main source of sustenance before giving in completely to his beloved treasure of strawberries. With a quick gesture, he grabbed the blood bag and drank it down in seconds, feeling the energy rush back through his body. Only then did he let his more childlike side show, hugging the bag of strawberries as if it were an object of immeasurable value.

Mingyu couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Resting an elbow on the table, he watched him with amusement before blurting out a comment that, while spontaneous, was full of sincerity.

“You’re the prettiest vampire that ever existed.”

Wonwoo, who had just been about to pop a strawberry into his mouth, froze. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but then closed again. It wasn’t the first time Mingyu had said something like that to him, and yet, it still managed to leave him speechless every time.

After a few seconds of silence, Wonu took the lead. “Did you come just to flatter me, or are we actually having a date today?”

Mingyu laughed at the vampire’s attitude and shook his head before standing up with a playful air. “Alright then, pretty boy… let’s have our date.”

The two of them walked into the living room, where Mingyu unpacked the warm food he had brought and, with a slightly mysterious smile, pulled out a small, carefully wrapped package. “Look, I brought this for you.”

Wonwoo eyed it curiously and took the package. When he opened it, he found a set of candles—mostly white, but with some in shades of red and purple. His eyes sparkled with a hint of surprise and admiration.

“This way you can light up your whole house with them,” Mingyu explained, watching as the vampire examined the gift closely.

For the first time since receiving the strawberries, Wonwoo set the bag aside and held the candles in his hands. His heart, beating stronger and stronger thanks to the blood reserves Mingyu kept supplying, gave a small skip. A genuine smile—not his usual mocking or sarcastic one, but a real, happy smile—spread across his face.

“Thank you, Mingyu…” he murmured, as if saying words of gratitude out loud was a struggle. “I was starting to wonder where I could find candles and… this color is really beautiful.”

He pointed to one of the purple candles, a deep shade that seemed to catch his attention in a special way. Mingyu, pleased by the vampire’s reaction, nodded decisively.

“Noted. I’ll bring more things in that color for you.”

But now came the hard part. Gyu handed him the bag with the burgers and smiled confidently. “Alright, now let’s try this and see if you like it.”

Wonwoo’s enthusiasm vanished the moment the smell of the hot food reached his nose. He furrowed his brow and leaned back slightly, a look of disgust crossing his face. “Ugh, no… it smells horrible.”

Instead of taking the food, he hurriedly grabbed his bag of strawberries, as if they could shield him from the olfactory offense he’d just suffered.

Mingyu laughed out loud. “Come on, just one bite. You won’t know if you really hate it if you don’t try it.”

Wonwoo looked at him skeptically, but the insistence in the werewolf’s eyes made him sigh in resignation. “Fine… but if it’s gross, I’m eating all the strawberries as compensation.”

Cautiously, he took a piece of the burger and brought it to his mouth. His expression twisted immediately. “The bread is dry…” he murmured, chewing it with difficulty. “The cheese is… ugh, no. Definitely not.”

Mingyu remembered that on a previous occasion, Wonwoo had already made it clear he hated cheese. “Well, at least try the rest,” he encouraged him.

The vampire continued tasting the burger with a wary grimace. The lettuce seemed bland to him, the tomato was juicy and a bright red that was pleasing to the eye, but the flavor left him feeling empty.

But the meat… Mingyu had ordered it medium, just enough so it was still juicy, with a slight trace of blood running from its center. Wonwoo bit cautiously, letting the taste spread in his mouth before pausing and nodding in approval.

“I like this…” he finally said, pointing only at the meat with a finger, as if it were the only part of the burger worth his attention.

Without hesitation, he began dismantling the burger with almost surgical precision, pushing aside the bread, cheese, lettuce, and tomato with a gesture of disinterest. In the end, only the meat remained on his plate, and he devoured it with a look of satisfaction. Mingyu watched him with an amused smile, resting his chin on his hand.

“So… blood, strawberries, and medium-rare meat,” he murmured to himself, mentally noting the list of things Wonwoo definitely liked. With every meeting, the werewolf felt like he was piecing together a puzzle of the vampire’s tastes—discovering what made him smile, what disgusted him, and what sparked that little flicker of excitement in his eyes.

Even though their second date had been essentially simple, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel completely satisfied. They didn’t need grand gestures or extravagant plans; simply being there, in the comfort of the vampire’s home, sharing food and moments, was enough to make him happy.

He leaned back on the sofa, watching how the candlelight illuminated Wonwoo’s face as he finished the meat. The home was dark, with thick curtains blocking the streetlight, walls in muted tones, and furniture that seemed pulled from another era. But with the warmth of the candles he’d brought, the space took on a more intimate, almost romantic atmosphere.

“The candles look good on you,” Mingyu commented with a sly smile.

Wonwoo, who had just licked his lips to wipe away traces of blood, raised an eyebrow. “The candles… or the light they shine on me?” he asked teasingly.

Mingyu chuckled softly and leaned a little closer. “Both. Though what looks best on you is when you smile.”

Wonwoo felt a faint warmth in his chest, unusual for someone whose heart had been inert for so long. Embarrassed, he looked away and grabbed another strawberry from the bag, biting into it to hide the involuntary smile threatening to show on his face.

Mingyu noticed, and in his mind, he added another item to his list of Wonwoo’s favorites:
4. When he was complimented… even if he’d never admit it.

te꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

Mingyu and Wonwoo went on several more dates over the course of the week, moments where the werewolf enjoyed watching the little reactions the vampire had to every new thing he offered him. However, that peaceful rhythm was interrupted when Seungcheol insisted on meeting up. Besides wanting to see him, he also needed more blood supplies.

For years, Mingyu had been Seungcheol’s main provider, getting him blood bags. It was a quiet, almost unspoken agreement that had started when the werewolf had found the vampire in a desperate situation. Over time, it had become a sort of routine between them, but this time, Seungcheol wasn’t happy with what he got.

“Mingyu, you usually give me fifteen bags, and now you’re only giving me ten… May I know the reason why?” the vampire asked in a serious tone, arms crossed.

Mingyu rolled his eyes and sighed. “As if you don’t know… Cheol, you don’t even have a right to complain. I’m giving you more than him. Wonwoo drinks one every third day, that’s four a week, plus an extra because I like to spoil him… You’ve got ten, you can drink one bag a day and still have some left over.” The werewolf reasoned, watching Seungcheol’s expression harden.

“You don’t get it… Mingyu… I need a little more…” he muttered, his voice carrying more than frustration—almost a plea wrapped in anger. He ran his hands through his hair, like he was trying to contain a thought that threatened to spill over. 

Mingyu frowned, sensing there was something more behind that insistence. “Why?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

Seungcheol fell silent for a moment, as if debating with himself, before finally looking up and admitting:

“There are two more…” His voice was low, almost a whisper, but enough to send a chill down Mingyu’s spine.

“You mean there are two more vampires?” Mingyu asked, trying to make sure he’d heard correctly.

Seungcheol slowly nodded. “I found them a couple of weeks ago…”

Mingyu stayed quiet. The revelation had caught him off guard. He knew vampires were extremely rare nowadays. His own kind—the werewolves—had been responsible for reducing their numbers drastically. Finding one solitary vampire was already unusual, but discovering two more was almost a miracle… or a curse.

For as long as Mingyu could remember, Seungcheol had been a solitary being. Not by choice, but because of the cruel reality of his species. When he was a child, his parents had known his fate was sealed. Being discovered meant death, so they hid him. In a desperate attempt to save him, they entrusted him to a human couple who couldn’t have children.

That couple took him in with love, raising him as their own even though they knew the truth about him. They didn’t send him to school or expose him to the outside world. At home, he was simply their son—a child who never aged. The couple worked at the town’s health center, and thanks to that, they were able to provide him with the blood he needed to survive.

For fifty long years, Seungcheol lived with them, watching their faces wrinkle, their steps slow, their hair turn gray. But they never stopped loving him.

When they finally passed away, the pain was unbearable. But they hadn’t left him completely alone. Before their deaths, they had spoken to a young nurse at the health center who, moved by Seungcheol’s story, promised to take care of him.

He thought that maybe, with her, he could have at least another fifty years of companionship. But life was cruel. The young woman died far sooner than he ever expected. Seungcheol was left alone once again. Until he met Mingyu.

Mingyu showed up in his life at the moment he needed it most. He was the first in years who didn’t fear him, the first who offered help without expecting anything in return. Thanks to him, Seungcheol was able to keep going, to get the blood he needed, and, in some way, to feel like he still had a connection to the world.

But Mingyu wasn’t like him. He might’ve been not a human in his own way, but he had a pack, he had a purpose. Seungcheol, on the other hand, had always felt like his existence was incomplete.

That’s why, when he found those two vampires, his heart—dormant for centuries—beat with excitement. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t the only one.

Seungcheol hadn’t had a plan that night. He was wandering aimlessly, the way he often did when loneliness weighed too heavily. He’d learned to ignore the hollow emptiness that had followed him for decades, but sometimes instinct pushed him to search for something, anything, that reminded him he still existed. That’s how he ended up at the cemetery, easily scaling the rusted gate that enclosed the graveyard.

He hadn’t expected to find anything of interest, just the usual silence of death and the smell of damp earth. But then, he heard voices. Faint but clear enough to spark his curiosity. Seungcheol moved through the darkness, following the whispers until he reached an old mausoleum whose stone walls were cracked with age.

If they were humans, it would be simple. He’d slip inside, catch them off guard, and drain every last drop of blood from their bodies. But when he peeked through one of the cracks, his cruel smile vanished. What he saw took his breath away.

Inside the mausoleum were two unmoving figures, their bodies deathly pale, lips dry, fangs barely peeking out from between cracked lips. They slept as if they’d been there for centuries, and when the moonlight spilled over them, Seungcheol noticed something else: they were identical. Twins.

The blond one was the first to stir. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking several times before letting out a broken gasp.

“We survived!” he exclaimed with euphoric laughter.

“Shhhh!” his black-haired brother clamped a hand over his mouth. “Someone’s going to hear us.”

Despite their obvious state of weakness, their expressions weren’t of fear or despair, but of triumph. Seungcheol watched without daring to interrupt the moment. They were disoriented, but not afraid. Almost as if they had always expected to wake up sooner or later.

Finally, he stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Hey, you two!”

The twins instantly tensed, their heads snapping toward the entrance of the mausoleum, eyes wide. Seungcheol couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle at their startled faces.

“Relax, I’m not an enemy. I’m a vampire too.” The blond and the black-haired one exchanged wary looks, but when they sniffed the air and caught the unmistakable scent of immortal blood in his body, their shoulders eased.

“Are there more vampires in this era?” the blond asked, his voice a mix of hope and fear.

“We’ve been asleep for a hundred long years, haven’t we?” his brother murmured, as if confirming something he already knew.

Seungcheol only nodded. He didn’t have many answers for them, but one thing was certain: he wasn’t alone anymore.

He forced the door lock with a pocketknife and helped them out. At first, their movements were clumsy, like their bodies still weren’t used to this new era. But even in their weakness, there was something fierce about them—something that reminded him of himself in his early years of survival.

Together, they managed to leave the cemetery without being noticed. The watchman, an old man who slept more than he kept watch, never realized they were there. After that, they walked down silent streets until they reached Seungcheol’s hideout, just as the first rays of dawn barely brushed against the city’s shadows.

While the twins settled into his makeshift refuge, Seungcheol watched them with a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He hadn’t just found others like him. He’d found a new reason to keep going.

From the moment Jeong and Hannie woke from their slumber, Seungcheol had taken on the responsibility of looking after them. It wasn’t easy, but something about them gave him a strange sense of connection. With each night that passed, he learned more about them. They were smart, perceptive, and above all, hungry. Their long sleep had left them weak, and though their hunting instincts were still there, their bodies weren’t yet ready to stalk living prey.

So Seungcheol shared the blood bags he managed to get with them. But Mingyu’s unexpected visit caught him off guard.

When the werewolf showed up at his hideout, Seungcheol knew immediately he couldn’t let him find out without preparing the ground first. Quickly, he had Jeong and Hannie hide in one of the darkest rooms in the building. He knew there was no point hiding them for long, but he didn’t want Mingyu to get rattled for no reason.

“Again with that look, Cheol?” Mingyu asked suspiciously, folding his arms as he sniffed the air.

Seungcheol sighed, realizing there was no point pretending any longer. He walked to the door of the hidden room and opened it, allowing the twins to step out of the shadows with supernatural grace.

“Let me introduce you,” he said calmly. “Jeong and Hannie.”

Mingyu narrowed his eyes, watching them carefully, while the vampires studied him with a mix of curiosity and caution. The tension in the air thickened, until Seungcheol broke the silence with a deliberately provocative comment.

“See, Mingyu? They’re even more beautiful than Wonwoo.”

The werewolf’s expression darkened instantly, and he shook his head, his voice firm. “Don’t even try it, Seungcheol. If you’re introducing them hoping I’ll abandon Wonwoo, you’re wasting your time.”

The irritation in his voice was clear, but Cheol wasn’t about to give in so easily. “We need the blood more than he does,” he insisted, his dark eyes flashing with frustration.

Mingyu stared at him unblinking, jaw tight. Finally, he exhaled tiredly and spoke with a seriousness that left no room for argument.

“Seungcheol… I’ll handle what I can for everyone. You know I’d never abandon you, but you should’ve told me earlier. And quit dragging Wonwoo into this—he hasn’t done anything to deserve it.”

The air in the room grew heavy. Cheol clenched his jaw, seething, but said nothing. He knew better than to challenge Mingyu. Not yet. If the werewolf chose to attack, a single bite would be enough to end him.

It was Jeong who finally broke the tension, tilting his head slightly as he spoke in a calm voice. “Seungcheol has told us a lot about you.”

Mingyu only gave a slight nod, his expression still hard. “I’ll keep helping however I can, but make sure you ration your blood supply.”

The twins nodded in unison, understanding the weight of his words. It wasn’t just a reminder—it was a warning disguised as advice.

Then Mingyu turned his gaze directly on Cheol, his voice carrying a mix of weariness and authority. “Manage the reserves wisely, Cheol.”

Seungcheol didn’t answer right away. His stance was still defiant, arms crossed over his chest, but deep down he knew Mingyu’s words weren’t an empty threat. At last, he gave the slightest tilt of his head, a reluctant nod that showed he understood he had no choice but to follow that advice—for now.

Chapter Text

Wonwoo loved the quiet of his home—the silence that filled the night and the calm that came with dawn. He slept through the day, when the sun blazed and the city was at its most chaotic, and woke when everything began to settle down, when artificial lights replaced the sun and the night breeze turned cool and enveloping. He enjoyed reading by the faint glow of his candles, losing himself in stories that took him far from his own reality—and most of all, he loved sharing those dark hours with Mingyu. To him, those midnight dates, those secret meetings where only the two of them existed, were perfect. He didn’t need anything else.

But Mingyu didn’t feel the same. For the werewolf, the night was a limited stage—a curtain that hid all the wonders of the world he wanted Wonwoo to see. He hated the thought of his vampire being deprived of sunlight, of landscapes bathed in gold, of the little daytime pleasures he cherished so much. He wanted to take him outside, to go on walks without worrying about shadows or the threat of daylight. He wanted to show him vast strawberry fields swaying in the breeze, stroll with him through vineyards where the scent of ripening grapes mingled with damp earth—he wanted Wonwoo to see how beautiful the world could be without having to hide in the dark. But none of that was possible. None of it existed at night, when the sun—Wonwoo’s greatest enemy—could no longer reach him.

Even so, Mingyu refused to give up. He had come up with a plan for their next date, a way to take Wonwoo out without putting him in danger. He didn’t want to go anywhere specific, and he had good reasons for that. If anyone saw them wandering around in the middle of the night, in some deserted place, it could raise suspicion. Two figures moving through the shadows might attract the wrong kind of attention—and the last thing he wanted was to draw eyes to them. He couldn’t let anyone find out the truth about Wonwoo, couldn’t risk someone discovering that the person he loved wasn’t human.

Seungcheol, his best friend, knew—but that wasn’t a problem. Mingyu trusted him completely; he knew Seungcheol would never betray him. But if an ordinary human started to suspect, or worse, if another werewolf picked up Wonwoo’s scent in the city, it would all be over.

Mingyu had grown up in a family where the extermination of vampires was considered a triumph—a victory that guaranteed peace. Though his own views were more open-minded and progressive, his relatives still believed the world was better off without such creatures. His father, who hadn’t even lived a century, proudly repeated the stories of his great-grandfather, who hunted vampires with his own silver fangs, wiping out those they saw as monsters.

That was why Mingyu knew he could never reveal his relationship with Wonwoo. He wasn’t afraid for himself—he was afraid for the vampire who had stolen his heart. If his family ever found out the truth, they wouldn’t stop until they made sure Wonwoo was gone. They were wolves drunk on power, desperate to prove they were still the ultimate predators—and they wouldn’t hesitate to go after him. Mingyu would never let that happen.

So he came up with a different kind of date. A moving one. He filled up his car’s gas tank, bought food in advance, and planned a drive around the city with Wonwoo as his passenger. It didn’t matter if they didn’t have a destination; what mattered was sharing that moment, enjoying the simple act of being together. He hoped Wonwoo would like the idea—that he’d find it charming, maybe even a little romantic.

Meanwhile, the vampire kept falling, helplessly, into the werewolf’s snare. Day by day, detail by detail, Mingyu was tearing down the walls around his heart. Wonwoo had never imagined that someone of his kind could be so gentle, so attentive toward him. Sometimes, he still found it hard to believe. Sometimes, he still felt the instinct to distrust—to keep a backup plan, an escape route, just in case Mingyu ever did something unexpected. He couldn’t forget what he was—or what Mingyu was. But the werewolf had never given him a reason to doubt his sincerity, and little by little, trust had begun to settle in his chest.

Still, Wonwoo knew better than to let his guard down completely. Keep your enemies close, he reminded himself. But even with that caution, he couldn’t deny that ever since he’d woken up in this new world, his life had been surprisingly peaceful—and that was all thanks to Mingyu. He no longer had to hunt, no longer had to expose himself to humans or other werewolves. He didn’t have to fear being discovered, because Mingyu made sure he had everything he needed—enough blood to stay satisfied without ever putting himself at risk. And Wonwoo preferred things to stay that way.

But there was something else. Something that worried him. Something that haunted him in silence.

Mingyu wasn’t immortal.

That thought followed him through the loneliest nights, when the world felt unbearably vast and time itself became an invisible enemy. While he would remain the same—trapped in the same appearance, bound to the same eternity—Mingyu would keep moving forward, growing older, changing. His life would take its natural course until, one day… he simply wouldn’t be there anymore.

That was Wonwoo’s greatest fear. Not being hunted, not being found out. His deepest fear was time itself—because he knew that, in the end, he’d be the only one left.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

Mingyu stepped into Wonwoo’s house with careful footsteps, holding a blood bag in his hand. The silence inside was almost sepulchral, broken only by the creak of wood beneath his shoes. He stopped at the entrance to the living room, taking in the tall, slender figure of Wonwoo, who smiled upon seeing him. Mingyu held out the container of vital liquid for the vampire.

“Tonight we’re having a different kind of date, Won.” His voice was soft but firm, carrying an undertone of emotion he couldn’t quite hide.

Wonwoo didn’t respond right away. At that moment, he was absorbed in what he was doing—holding the blood bag with both hands as he drank greedily, his back turned to Mingyu. His stiff posture betrayed a mix of need and self-consciousness; he had never liked being watched while feeding. No matter how long he’d been with Mingyu, he still couldn’t feel entirely at ease showing that side of himself to him.

Mingyu, for his part, felt a familiar sting of curiosity—one he’d learned to suppress over time. He didn’t insist, didn’t try to turn Wonwoo around to meet his gaze, didn’t ask to watch. He knew it was an intimate process for him, a part of his nature he didn’t easily share. Still, deep down, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to see Wonwoo’s face in that moment of satisfaction, to witness the pleasure of quenching his thirst.

The vampire finished drinking and turned slowly, his eyes still dark, his tongue tracing his lips to clean away the traces of blood. Mingyu froze for a moment, captivated. There was something hypnotic about the way Wonwoo’s tongue slid across his mouth, the way the crimson contrasted against the paleness of his skin. He caught himself wishing he could kiss him right then and there.

“Okay, so… where are we going?” Wonwoo asked, still wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his voice slightly hoarse from feeding.

Mingyu blinked, shaking off his momentary distraction, and cleared his throat. “Well, I just thought we could go for a drive. There’ll be artificial lights, but… those won’t hurt you, right?”

Wonwoo shook his head calmly. “No, only sunlight. Sunlight’s the only thing that can really kill me and… well, you know… your silver fangs.”

He said the last part quickly, as if hoping Mingyu wouldn’t think too much about it. But Mingyu noticed the flicker of nervousness anyway, and instead of pressing, he just gave him a crooked smile—one of those smiles that always managed to undo him.

“I’d never use them for that. They’ll always stay hidden when you’re around, Won.” His tone left no doubt—it was a promise.

Wonwoo felt an odd warmth bloom in his chest and hurried to clear his throat, looking away. After a brief silence, he extended a hand toward Mingyu, hesitant but resolute. “So… shall we go?”

Mingyu didn’t hesitate to take his hand, wrapping his fingers around it with effortless ease, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His skin was ice-cold, but Mingyu didn’t mind.

Together, they stepped out of the old house, with the moon as their only witness. The night was calm, the air crisp and clean, and Mingyu’s car waited just a few steps from the entrance. Wonwoo slid into the passenger seat while Mingyu settled behind the wheel, starting the engine with a quiet hum.

The drive began simply enough. Wonwoo, used to the stillness of the outskirts, watched with faint unease as the scenery shifted the closer they got to the city. From his home on the forested slopes outside Seoul, surrounded by trees and dirt roads, to the concrete jungle that now sprawled before him. Towering skyscrapers, neon lights flashing at every corner, massive billboards flooding the night with color. It was both mesmerizing and overwhelming.

“This used to be nothing but trees and open fields,” Wonwoo murmured, his tone laced with nostalgia as his eyes wandered across the bustling streets. “Everything was rural back then… easier to find prey.”

Mingyu glanced at him from the corner of his eye, noticing how the city lights reflected in his pupils. He allowed himself to ask the question that had lingered in his mind for a while.

“Do you ever miss hunting humans…? Do you ever wish you could do it again?”

Silence filled the car as Wonwoo considered his answer. The truth was, he’d never really stopped to think about it—at least not consciously, not since Mingyu had come into his life. And that very thought unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

“Actually…” the vampire began, but his voice faded into a sigh. He fell silent for a moment, as if searching for the right words—the kind that wouldn’t make him feel too exposed. Finally, he continued:

“Truth is, I never really liked hunting… I enjoy blood, yes, but… sometimes it was just exhausting. And even though it always restored my strength, you had to get smarter each time if you wanted to feed without getting caught. It wasn’t just about choosing the right prey—it was about leaving no trace, avoiding any mistake that could put your people in danger. It was a dangerous game, a hunt where a single slip could cost you your life…”

He paused, lowering his head slightly. His fingers toyed with the edge of his jacket, a nervous tic that was rare for him. “And when the werewolves…”

He stopped abruptly, biting the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to go down that road, didn’t want to say something that might hurt Mingyu—though he knew the other had already sensed the weight behind his words.

Without taking his eyes off the road, Mingyu noticed his hesitation and decided to press gently. “What happened then?”

Wonwoo swallowed hard. He didn’t like talking about it, but for some reason—with Mingyu—it felt a little easier. Maybe because, even though they were of opposite species, there was something about the werewolf that made him feel safe.

“It was devastating…” he murmured, his voice heavy with ancient sorrow—a sadness buried beneath centuries of survival.

Mingyu felt a tightness in his chest. He couldn’t fully imagine what Wonwoo had lived through, but he understood it must have been a massacre—that his world had changed overnight. The vampires who hadn’t managed to escape were wiped out, their sanctuaries destroyed, their society reduced to ashes. And Wonwoo… he must have lost his family, his friends, his entire community.

The werewolf tightened his grip on the steering wheel, feeling useless in the face of a pain he knew he couldn’t heal. His own clan had its version of that story too—but the truth was, the war between their species had left more wounds than either of them could count.

“I’m sorry, Won… really.” His voice was low, sincere, weighted with genuine feeling. They weren’t empty words—it was an apology from the soul. “If it means anything… maybe that’s why fate brought me here—to take care of you.”

Wonwoo’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t expected Mingyu—a werewolf, one of the very kind that had destroyed everything he’d ever known—to say something like that. But he said it with such conviction, such warmth, that doubting his sincerity was impossible.

He turned to look at him, eyes filled with a mix of astonishment and something deeper—something he couldn’t quite name. His gaze traced Mingyu’s strong, masculine profile, the way the glow of the headlights lit his skin, highlighting the tiny moles scattered across his face. His lips, slightly parted, looked soft… warm…

Wonwoo caught himself wondering what they would feel like against his own. It was madness. It was absurd. But despite everything that had happened in the past—the centuries of enmity between their races, the blood spilled—he couldn’t help feeling drawn to this werewolf. To Mingyu.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

When Mingyu parked by the Han River, Wonwoo felt it was one of the most peaceful and beautiful places he had seen in a long time. Even though it was a well-known tourist spot, the late hour meant the area was nearly deserted, with only a few souls wandering in the distance. The night breeze brushed over the water’s surface, making it shimmer with the reflection of city lights in soft ripples—like the metropolis itself was breathing alongside the river.

For Wonwoo, the view was completely new. In the past, he had never had the chance to see the world beyond his home. He was young—too young compared to the ancient vampires who had walked the earth before the massacre. From the moment the war began, his life had been reduced to hiding, to surviving, without the freedom to explore. But now, a century later, here he was, sitting in front of this vast body of water, able to admire its majesty in full. And all thanks to Mingyu.

The werewolf, noticing Wonwoo’s distraction with the scenery, took the opportunity to pull out the food he had prepared especially for that night. Not only had he brought Wonwoo’s favorite fruit—a bunch of fresh, juicy strawberries—but he also wanted to surprise him with something more. This time, he had decided to show off his cooking skills, something he didn’t talk much about but secretly took pride in.

He carefully opened a thermal container, and the smell of warm broth filled the air. Inside was ramen, with a mix of vegetables and meat carefully chosen. He knew the vampire wasn’t used to human food, so he had made sure everything would suit his taste. The meat was half-cooked—just enough for Wonwoo to find it appealing—and every ingredient had been picked with his sensitive palate in mind.

Mingyu placed the bowls on the car’s dashboard and pushed the seats back a little to make more space. Then, he pulled out a pair of chopsticks and began serving with precision. Wonwoo, still mesmerized by the sight of the river, finally turned his head when he caught the sweet scent of strawberries.

He grabbed the big bag eagerly and smiled faintly. He’d grown quite fond of that fruit—he loved the mix of sweetness and tartness, the juicy texture that left a refreshing taste in his mouth. But as he bit into the first one, he couldn’t help glancing over to see what Mingyu was doing.

The vampire watched closely as the werewolf poured the broth into the bowls, arranging thin, long strips of something he didn’t recognize. Then came the colorful vegetables—green, white, even a few red ones. Finally, with a pair of small tongs, Mingyu carefully placed the meat on top.

“What’s all that?” Wonwoo asked, genuine curiosity in his voice as he leaned a bit closer for a better look.

Mingyu smiled at his interest. “It’s called ramen. You’ve never had it?” he said, handing him one of the bowls along with a pair of chopsticks.

Wonwoo eyed the utensils with mild confusion, but didn’t refuse them. He held the bowl with both hands, studying its contents with skepticism. The aroma wasn’t unpleasant—just unfamiliar. He couldn’t say he liked it, but he couldn’t say he hated it either.

Still, his real question was how he was supposed to eat it. He had never tried human food before. As a vampire, his diet had always consisted solely of blood. The idea of experimenting with other flavors had never even crossed his mind—until Mingyu showed up. Since the werewolf began insisting that he try new things, his routine had become less monotonous, less predictable. And while blood was still his main sustenance, he couldn’t deny that discovering new sensations was… entertaining.

He watched Mingyu closely, waiting for him to take the first bite. He wanted to make sure he did it right. The werewolf handled the chopsticks with ease, twirling the noodles neatly, picking up a piece of meat and some vegetables before taking everything into his mouth in one bite. Wonwoo looked at him with fascination. He liked the way Mingyu ate—his cheeks puffed slightly as he chewed, his eyes closing in quiet delight, every now and then letting out a soft sigh of satisfaction.

Following his example, Wonwoo tried to mimic his movements. He clumsily picked up the chopsticks, struggling to grip the noodles properly. When he finally managed to grab a decent bite, he tried to bring it to his mouth just like Mingyu did—but he underestimated the size.

He immediately realized there was no way he could fit as much food in his mouth as the werewolf could. Mingyu, who had been watching him out of the corner of his eye, burst into laughter at the sight of him struggling with the noodles.

“You look hilarious trying to eat like that!” he said between laughs.

Wonwoo, with noodles awkwardly hanging from his lips, frowned and shot him a glare. “Shut up…” he muttered, but he couldn’t stop the blush that crept up his cheeks.

Mingyu kept laughing, then gently took Wonwoo’s chopsticks and adjusted them in his hands. “Here, let me help you.”

Wonwoo let him, feeling the light brush of Mingyu’s fingers against his own. For some reason, that simple touch made his heart—if he could still call it that—throb with a strange warmth in his chest.

“Eat slowly, Won…” Mingyu’s voice came out soft and warm, filled with genuine affection as he watched the vampire with a calm, tender expression. His eyes glimmered under the dim light inside the car, reflecting the sweetness of that shared moment. Wonwoo nodded slightly, taking the chopsticks more carefully, and instead of mixing everything in the bowl, he decided to taste each part separately.

He lifted the first bit of noodles to his lips, tasting them slowly. From the very first bite, he could tell the food had been made by hand. The balance between the softness of the noodles and the faint hint of garlic and spices made him frown—not out of dislike, but in pleasant surprise.

“Mmmhmm… This tastes good,” he murmured contentedly, pointing at the noodles with his chopsticks before glancing at Mingyu, who felt a spark of joy in his chest at the remark.

“Okay, but try the rest,” the werewolf insisted eagerly. Wonwoo, without protest, picked up some scallions and other vegetables next. Unlike the noodles, these had a more complex blend of flavors—a mix his palate couldn’t quite decipher. There was a mild sweetness mixed with the freshness of the greens, and while they weren’t his favorite part, he didn’t dislike them either.

He mentally ranked each element in order of preference. So far, the noodles were at the top, with the vegetables in second place for now. But there was still the most important part left.

With slow, deliberate movements, he picked up a piece of meat. The moment he bit into it, a few drops of crimson juice slid across his tongue. Its tender texture and the medium level of doneness made his fangs tingle with instinctive pleasure. The metallic essence reminded him of older times—of an era when his diet had been different… more primal. His expression shifted, and Mingyu noticed.

The werewolf smiled fondly as the vampire chewed slowly, completely absorbed in the taste—so much so that he didn’t even notice Mingyu had set his own bowl of ramen down on the car’s console, just to watch him.

“Taste the broth,” Mingyu suggested softly, motioning toward Wonwoo’s bowl with a small gesture.

Without refusing, the vampire took the bowl in both hands and tilted it slightly, letting the warm liquid slide into his mouth. The heat wrapped around him, stirring distant memories. It reminded him of the warmth of blood he used to drink long ago, back when he didn’t rely on substitutes or restrictions. The flavor was rich, deep, comforting. His internal ranking immediately changed.

Meat.
Broth.
Noodles.
Vegetables.

After a few seconds of silence, Wonwoo set the bowl down, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Overall, it’s a good dish," he admitted, picking up another piece of meat with his chopsticks and popping it into his mouth with a satisfied look. Then, driven by sudden curiosity, he asked, “Where did you buy it?”

Mingyu, who had been watching him with obvious satisfaction, shook his head with a soft laugh. “I didn’t buy it. I made it myself.”

Wonwoo stopped chewing for a moment, blinking in surprise. “Really?” he asked, looking at him in disbelief. Mingyu laughed harder when he saw his expression and nodded.

“Wow…” murmured Wonwoo, now gazing at him with a mix of admiration and amazement. “So, you’re a werewolf, a doctor, and a cook… Is there anything Mr. Kim Mingyu can’t do well?” he teased, one eyebrow arched, his tone carrying a playful edge.

Mingyu tilted his head, a sly smile curving his lips before he replied casually, “I don’t know, but you could find out.”

He winked with amusement, and in that moment—for the first time—Mingyu witnessed something he’d never thought he’d see: Wonwoo’s usually impassive face tinted with a faint shade of pink.

It was subtle, but it was there. And to Mingyu, it was unbelievably adorable. He decided not to mention it, but his heart felt strangely warm.

“Alright, now for dessert,” Wonwoo muttered a bit too quickly, trying to steer the attention away from himself. He grabbed the bag of strawberries and started eating them one by one, as if nothing had happened.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

Mingyu made sure to take Wonwoo home before it got too late… or too early. The point was to make sure the sun didn’t come up. The drive back passed in a comforting kind of quiet; the soft hum of the engine was the only sound between them. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but one filled with an easy, shared peace.

Wonwoo was still eating strawberries from the big bag the werewolf had brought him. Each bite tasted sweet and fresh, as if just savoring them brought him a warmth he wasn’t used to feeling. He was happy—truly happy—and there was a faint spark of excitement pulsing softly in his chest, spreading little by little with every minute he spent beside Mingyu. There was no doubt about it: he enjoyed his company far more than he ever would’ve imagined.

The vampire stared absently out the window, watching the city stretch before them, its flickering lights illuminating the night. He’d discovered a new corner of Seoul thanks to Mingyu, and that thought made him reflect. How many other places could he find if he let himself try? If he dared to dream beyond the safety of his home?
The idea of traveling seemed impossible—he couldn’t move during the day; the sun would burn him in an instant. But… what if there was a way?

“What are you thinking about?” Mingyu’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. His tone was curious, but also carried a hint of tenderness, like he genuinely cared about every thought that crossed Wonwoo’s mind.

Wonwoo sighed, glancing his way. “About traveling…” he admitted, almost embarrassed by how unrealistic that idea sounded for someone like him.

Mingyu smiled softly, a spark of determination glinting in his eyes. “We can figure out a way to make it happen,” he said with a quiet confidence that made Wonwoo’s chest tighten. “We’d have to move at night to avoid the sun and find a safe place to hide during the day… We could travel by car, stop at motels along the way… Maybe even find some night flights we could take advantage of. Although…” He brought a hand to his chin, thoughtful. “We’d also have to find a way to mask your scent from other werewolves. I can’t risk them finding you. We’ll have to keep you well protected.”

The vampire blinked, surprised. Mingyu was serious. It wasn’t just an idle thought—he’d actually considered every possible scenario, every risk, every detail. For a moment, Wonwoo’s dead heart felt strangely alive, moved by the werewolf’s quiet devotion.

Just imagining a trip—seeing new places, exploring the world beyond his limited nocturnal existence—felt like an impossible dream. But Mingyu’s words… they gave him hope.

“That sounds like quite a plan…” Wonwoo sighed again, though this time with a faint smile on his lips. “And I’d love for us to make it happen… together.”

The last word came out as a whisper, almost afraid to break the spell of the moment—but Mingyu heard it clearly. His smile widened, warm and genuine.

When they finally reached the vampire’s house, Mingyu turned off the engine and stepped out of the car to walk him to the door. The sky was still dark and dawn was far off, but the werewolf didn’t want to be rude. Maybe Wonwoo had something else to do before the night ended.

“Alright, Mingyu…” Wonwoo turned to meet his gaze. “Thank you for today—thank you for the date…” His eyes glimmered with something indescribable, a mix of gratitude and quiet emotion. His chest felt strange, as if his heart somehow stirred in Mingyu’s presence. “Thanks for getting this old vampire out of his house.” His voice was a soft echo in the stillness of dawn.

Mingyu nodded gently, stepping closer—close enough that the space between them nearly disappeared. “No… thank you for giving me the chance to go out with you, Won…” he murmured, his voice low and warm.

Wonwoo lifted his gaze, and in that instant he felt it—the werewolf’s warm breath brushing against his skin. The heat radiating from him was almost hypnotic, wrapping him in a pleasant, dizzying haze. He couldn’t help himself.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Wonwoo closed the distance between them. Their lips met in a deep, unhurried kiss, filled with a tenderness that seeped into every fiber of his being. And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Mingyu let himself go, allowing the vampire to set the pace of that unexpected kiss. Wonwoo wasn’t in any hurry—his cool lips brushed against the werewolf’s with an almost ethereal gentleness, as if he were exploring something new and fragile. There was no urgency in their touch, only the soft rhythm of two opposite worlds meeting halfway.

Wonwoo was careful, keeping his fangs in check, making sure not to let instinct take over. He didn’t want to hurt Mingyu—not even in the slightest way. His kiss stayed shallow, not out of lack of interest, but because at that moment, he didn’t need anything more. He didn’t seek depth or slip his tongue between Mingyu’s lips. What he wanted was the tenderness of the act itself—the warmth of contact, the faint shiver that rippled through his skin at the nearness of the werewolf. It was sweet. It was warm. And, more than anything, it was something he had never expected to experience.

Mingyu, for his part, got lost in the moment—in the feeling of Wonwoo’s lips molding softly against his own. The vampire’s coolness didn’t bother him; if anything, the contrast only made it more mesmerizing. His own naturally warm body pressed against Wonwoo’s chill, and instead of discomfort, it felt hypnotic. But as immortal as his companion might be, Mingyu still needed to breathe.

When his lungs began to burn from the lack of air, he pulled back with a short, uneven breath. Wonwoo, still caught in the moment, almost followed him—as if unwilling to break the connection. His eyes stayed closed for a few seconds longer, as though trying to hold onto the feeling a little more. When he finally opened them, his pupils glimmered with something unreadable. A faint blush, barely there, tinged his pale cheeks.

Mingyu smiled, quietly amazed by what he saw. Wonwoo lifted a hand to his lips, still feeling the warmth Mingyu had left behind.

“Oh, uh… I’m sorry, I…” His voice was a trembling whisper. He wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for. For kissing him? For enjoying it so much?

Mingyu shook his head, his gaze soft. “It’s okay, Won… I liked it.” His words were honest, carrying a warmth that made the vampire’s heart stumble in his chest.

A moment of silence lingered before the werewolf added, “I could kiss you again right now.”

Wonwoo blinked, startled. His lips parted in disbelief, and a hesitant smile tugged at them. “Really?” he asked in a faint voice, as if needing to make sure he wasn’t imagining that confession.

Mingyu didn’t answer with words. Instead, he placed his hands on Wonwoo’s hips, drawing him in with an easy confidence—the kind that comes from someone who knows exactly what they want. Wonwoo let himself be guided without resistance, feeling Mingyu’s warmth wrap around him like a blanket on a cold night.

Then, the werewolf kissed him again. It was a soft, unhurried kiss—gentle but full of intention. It wasn’t just a tentative brush anymore, but something tender and deliberate. Mingyu understood now that this was how Wonwoo liked to be kissed—with patience, with care, without rush. And he was more than willing to give him exactly that.

Wonwoo’s heart pounded in his ears, stirring his long-dormant senses. For so long he had lived in the stillness of night, trapped in the monotony of an eternal existence… and now, with that simple kiss, with Mingyu’s presence, his entire world felt more vivid—more real. And for the first time in centuries, he wasn’t afraid to move forward.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

The line rang once. Then again.

He listened closely, waiting for someone to answer, but the steady tone on the other end only gave him silence in return. His fingers drummed impatiently against the tabletop. Finally, just as he was about to hang up, the call was redirected to voicemail.

A barely audible click was followed by the pre-recorded voice of a man—calm, professional, and utterly devoid of warmth.

“You’ve reached the phone of Dr. Kim Shikmin. He’s unable to take your call at the moment, but you can leave a message after the tone. He’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

The message was short, precise, completely emotionless. He waited for the familiar beep with a faint, crooked smile tugging at his lips. A second later, the signal came, letting him know it was time to speak.

He took his time. Drew in a deep breath, though he didn’t really need it. He wanted to make sure his words were captured perfectly. When he finally spoke, his voice came out smooth, almost teasing, laced with restrained amusement.

“Did you know there’s a vampire in Seoul?” He paused for a few seconds, letting his words hang in the air, as if expecting a reaction that would never come. “You might want to check your blood supply, Doctor.”

His tone stayed calm, but the implication was crystal clear. With a quiet click of his tongue, he ended the call.

As he slipped the phone back into the pocket of his coat, his eyes glimmered with amusement. He couldn’t help but wonder—how would the good doctor react when he heard that message?

Chapter Text

Wonwoo slid into his coffin, feeling the satin brush against his skin with a cool, silken touch. As soon as he was fully inside, he realized something obvious: there was only room for one individual in there. No space for two bodies—especially not ones as large as his and Mingyu’s. His fingers traced the padded lining, and he couldn’t help but wonder if a werewolf would enjoy being trapped in a coffin. Probably not.

He examined his resting place with a critical eye. The exterior was sleek and polished black, carved with delicate patterns that caught the faint light. Inside, the satin padding offered a sense of cozy warmth, though Wonwoo knew that wouldn’t matter to Mingyu. Werewolves radiated their own heat—their bodies seemed forged from fire and motion. No, his coffin wasn’t the right place to share with him. And yet, the longing to sleep by his side was strong.

He closed his eyes and let his mind drift. He pictured himself lying next to the werewolf, wrapped in his warmth. Even if it was only in his imagination, he could almost feel the strength of those arms around him—holding him tight, as if never intending to let go. He imagined Mingyu’s lips, not just on his mouth but trailing down his neck with hungry intent, stopping at the spots where his skin was most sensitive. A shiver ran down his spine, and he felt it instantly—his blood stirred. Thanks to the reserves Mingyu had given him, he had enough now—too much, maybe—because that image sent a sharp, burning heat pooling between his legs. Wonwoo stifled an involuntary moan.

When was the last time he’d felt something like this? He tried to remember, but his past was hazy, buried under the weight of a century of sleep. He wasn’t old, at least not by vampire standards. When the massacre began, he had barely turned twenty. His parents had warned him the only way to survive was to hide, so he did. He locked himself away and slept… and slept… until he woke up in a completely different world.

His former life felt distant now, almost like it belonged to someone else. He remembered his first kiss at fifteen, with a young vampire girl who used to wander around his neighborhood. She was the one who dared to steal that kiss, and after that, they shared an innocent little relationship. They only ever held hands, nothing more. Time passed, and he never experienced what other vampires seemed to take for granted. He learned to hunt, lost himself in books, and led a quiet, solitary existence.

A hundred years ago, he hadn’t even liked vampires—neither men nor women. He thought desire simply wasn’t a part of him. But now, with Mingyu around… everything was different. His very presence unsettled him in ways he didn’t understand. And most of all, he couldn’t stop thinking about him—about his warm lips, his solid body, the brush of his skin. Was this desire? Or something deeper?

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

For their next date, Mingyu came up with an idea he thought was absolutely charming: to bring only things made with strawberries. He even packed some fresh ones, wondering if Wonwoo would be able to enjoy other foods with the fruit’s flavor, or if he’d only tolerate the natural version. It was a small test—an experiment disguised as a romantic gesture.

When he finished loading everything into his car’s trunk, the sight made him laugh. Everything had a pinkish tone: fluffy cream-topped cupcakes, glass bottles of juice, milk with a faint reddish hue, glossy jars of jam, tarts neatly lined with strawberries, creamy yogurt, and a wobbly gelatin that caught the light just right. That was when his medical instincts kicked in with a twinge of concern—wasn’t that way too much sugar? He sighed and, just to be safe, tossed his glucose meter into the bag. Better safe than sorry.

His daily diet was usually pretty balanced; he rarely let himself indulge. But whenever he had a date with Wonwoo... all rules went out the window. The thought alone made him sigh, his whole body reacting at the mere idea of the vampire. It was ironic, really—how someone who, by nature, should have been his most dangerous enemy had become the most endearing presence in his life.

Mingyu loved the way Wonwoo’s eyes lit up with genuine curiosity whenever he discovered something new. When he liked something, the look of wonder on his face was enough to fill the werewolf’s heart with joy. And when he didn’t, those little grimaces of distaste were just as adorable. Every gesture, every tiny reaction from the vampire had him completely hooked—like he physically couldn’t look away.

And those lips… dear God, Wonwoo’s lips. They were sacred to him. Cold to the touch, yet so soft it was addictive. Mingyu didn’t consider himself new to love—he’d been in relationships before, with werewolves and even humans—but no one had ever made him feel what Wonwoo did with just one kiss. There was something solemn, almost reverent, in the way the vampire kissed him, as if every touch were a silent promise.

He wouldn’t trade that for anything. With each passing day, the idea of making things serious with Wonwoo felt more real, more inevitable. And yet, a knot formed in his stomach every time he thought about his family—his father, his mother… even his grandfather, who was still alive. He knew perfectly well none of them would ever accept the relationship. To them, vampires were a threat, something to be eradicated, not loved. If they ever found out, they wouldn’t just reject him—they’d probably try to hunt Wonwoo down.

No. He couldn’t let that happen. It was better to keep it secret, just like he’d done with his friendship with Seungcheol. If no one had ever found out he had ties to a vampire, then he could hide his relationship with Wonwoo too.

That was when the memory of Cheol crept into his thoughts. Lately, he’d been too quiet—distant ever since their last meeting, when Cheol had introduced him to Jeong and Han. Mingyu had brought them blood that week, even left an extra bag to make sure they wouldn’t go hungry. Still, Seungcheol had stopped reaching out. No more messages, no more invitations to his hideout to chat. Maybe he was upset. Maybe he didn’t like the fact that Wonwoo had become Mingyu’s priority. But he’d get over it… eventually.

His friendship with Cheol had always meant a lot to him. He was fascinated by his stories about surviving a hundred years without ever going into hibernation. Though, if he was honest, Mingyu hated the part where the vampire talked about the people he’d lost—his adoptive parents, the nurse who helped him stay alive after his death… every story was soaked in a kind of sadness that even a century couldn’t wash away.

Seungcheol didn’t even remember his vampire parents. His childhood and teenage years were a blur—a blank space in his memory. For him, the Chois had always been his only real family. Before them, before his adoption, his past was little more than emptiness.

Mingyu sighed, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He hoped everything would stay in order—that nothing would change too much—that life would just keep moving forward without the love he felt for Wonwoo tearing everything apart. But deep down, he knew that was wishful thinking. From the moment the vampire entered his life, fate had already begun to rewrite itself.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

Wonwoo greeted Mingyu with a faint smile when he arrived at his house. Without saying a word, he took the blood bag the werewolf offered, but before drinking it, he leaned in slightly and pressed a brief kiss to Mingyu’s lips. The gesture was so unexpected that it left Mingyu frozen in place, still holding the large bags full of strawberry-based treats he had brought along.

The vampire turned away casually, as if that kiss had been the most ordinary thing in the world, and finally brought the blood bag to his lips. Gyu couldn’t help but watch him in silence, mesmerized. Wonwoo’s breathing quickened slightly as the crimson liquid slid down his throat, his posture relaxing with each sip. The sight was hypnotic.

When Mingyu finally came to his senses and decided to move, he stepped forward just as Wonwoo turned toward him. The collision was inevitable. Their bodies bumped together, and the werewolf found himself caught in Wonwoo’s unfocused gaze—his expression still hazy with the lingering pleasure of feeding. But what struck him most was Wonwoo’s smile: wide and playful, revealing sharp, gleaming fangs. They were slender and perfectly white, a fascinating contrast to Mingyu’s own, thicker ones with their characteristic silvery sheen.

“Mingyu…” Wonwoo murmured with a teasing smile, his lips still tinted red.

“Hey, Wonwoo,” the werewolf replied warmly, his heart pounding hard in his chest.

Wonwoo let out a soft laugh before leaning in again to steal another quick kiss—a fleeting peck that left Mingyu completely flustered.

“I like your smile,” the vampire said suddenly, his expression sincere enough to make Gyu’s stomach flutter. He opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out.

“Come on,” Wonwoo added, opening the door that led to the living room—the place where they usually spent their dates.

Mingyu followed, still swallowing nervously. What was going on with Wonwoo today? He was being unusually affectionate—more than normal. Not that he was complaining; he loved it. It just took him by surprise.

“Today we’re having a strawberry festival,” Mingyu announced as he unpacked all the bags and began setting everything out on the table.

One by one, he laid out the different treats he’d brought: small pink-cream cupcakes, elegant glass bottles of juice, milk infused with strawberry flavor, thick jams, tarts topped with neatly arranged fresh strawberries, creamy yogurt, and translucent jelly with little fruit pieces floating inside. He’d even brought toasted bread so Wonwoo could try the jam the traditional way.

The vampire scanned the table, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. Still, some of the colors seemed to puzzle him. There were shades too pale, too soft—not quite the deep, vivid red of blood.

“All of this is made with strawberries,” Mingyu explained. “I want to know which ones you like… Oh—” He frowned suddenly. “I forgot to bring ice cream. But, well, we can save that for next time.”

“That’s fine…” Wonwoo replied with a small smile, looking over the spread again. “Uh… where do we start?”

“You choose, Won.”

The vampire pondered for a moment before finally pointing at the jam. Its red color inspired more confidence than the rest. Mingyu nodded, opened the jar, and grabbed a slice of toasted bread, carefully spreading the jam over the crunchy surface. Then he handed it to Wonwoo, who accepted it with both hands and took a first bite.

His expression turned thoughtful. The taste was sweet—much sweeter than he’d expected. It didn’t exactly resemble the flavor of natural strawberries, but it wasn’t bad either.

“I’d give it… maybe an eight?” he said at last, tilting his head slightly as he chewed.

Mingyu laughed and picked up his own slice of jammed toast. “Well, that means we’re off to a good start.” He winked before taking a bite himself.

Wonwoo smiled. Maybe, after all, he could learn to enjoy human food a little more. From then on, Wonwoo tried each item with curiosity, giving his ratings as he tasted the different flavors.

Milk: 7 – “It’s a little mild, but it has an interesting aftertaste.”
Jelly: 5 – “Too soft… It doesn’t have the same intensity as real strawberries.”
Cake: 9 – “Fluffy and perfectly sweet… I like it.”
Yogurt: 10 – “It’s got real strawberry pieces! This one’s delicious.”
Juice: 7 – “Not bad, but I prefer the fruit’s texture.”

Even though he tasted several things, Wonwoo didn’t finish any of them, leaving room for his true pleasure: the fresh strawberries. His eyes lit up when he picked up the first one, savoring its juice with visible satisfaction. Meanwhile, Mingyu—who had eaten much more than the vampire—leaned back on the couch. His stomach was already full, probably with higher sugar levels than usual, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying the moment.

For a while, he just watched Wonwoo. He found it fascinating—the way he enjoyed each strawberry, the glint in his eyes, his lips stained red. Then the vampire looked up and studied him with curiosity.

“Mingyu… this might sound weird, but… do you sleep in a bed?” he asked suddenly, his tone genuinely curious.

The werewolf raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question, but then chuckled. “Yeah, I sleep in a bed. Don’t you?”

Wonwoo shook his head, as if the answer should have been obvious. Then, in a casual tone, he dropped the next question: “Do you want to see my room?”

Mingyu blinked, feeling the heat rise to his face. He tried not to let his thoughts wander to anything too suggestive, so he just nodded, a little nervous. “Yeah… sure.”

The vampire stood gracefully, moving in near silence, and gestured toward a door at the back of the room. “This way.”

Mingyu followed, a faint sense of anticipation building in his chest. When Wonwoo opened the door, the first thing he noticed was the dim light from the purple candles carefully lined along the sides of the room. In the center stood a large open coffin that immediately drew all attention; its interior was lined with deep red velvet, standing out against the black walls. Thick, heavy curtains blocked the windows.

The space was minimalist, with little decoration. A large bookshelf covered one side of the room, filled with books of various sizes and colors. In one corner stood a small wardrobe and a few personal belongings. There was no bed, of course.

“What do you think?” Wonwoo asked softly, a hint of shyness in his voice.

Mingyu smiled as he looked around. “It’s very… you.”

Wonwoo tilted his head, a little puzzled by the answer. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Mingyu let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “It’s just… original.”

The vampire nodded, satisfied with the answer, and slowly walked toward his coffin, running his fingers along the edge with casual ease. “Come here,” Wonwoo said softly, almost in a whisper.

Mingyu obeyed, stepping closer with caution. The vampire looked at him with a special glint in his eyes before speaking again, his voice tinged with shyness. “Would you like to get in?”

The question instantly put the werewolf on alert. His mind wandered for a second, wondering if Wonwoo was trying to mess with him—or worse, if he actually meant to lock him inside the coffin.

“Uh… not really, Won. Don’t take it the wrong way, but… I feel like I’d break it,” he said with a nervous laugh, trying to ease the tension.

Wonwoo studied him for a moment before letting out a quiet chuckle. “Okay… okay… It’s small, right? We wouldn’t both fit…” he murmured with a sigh, briefly averting his gaze.

Mingyu’s heart thudded in his chest. If he’d been nervous before, now he was completely caught in a whirlwind of emotions. Was Wonwoo actually hinting at what he thought he was? Did he want them to sleep together?

“Oh? No… I don’t think we’d both fit, Won. But… my bed’s a lot roomier.”

The vampire immediately looked up, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Really? You’d take me to your room?”

Moving slowly, Wonwoo stepped closer—close enough for Mingyu to catch the faint, cool scent of his skin.

Mingyu smiled warmly and, with gentle affection, slid his hand along the vampire’s pale cheek. “Of course, Won… If you want, we can go next time, yeah?”

Wonwoo nodded silently, but instead of replying with words, he simply leaned in toward him. Their lips met in a kiss that lasted longer this time—still sweet, still unhurried. There was no rush, no desperate hunger. Just their mouths exploring one another softly, a tender touch that deepened with each passing moment, settling into a slow, delicious rhythm.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

The voicemail rang a couple of times, but third time’s the charm.

“Hello? I’ve got a bunch of missed calls from this number…” said Dr. Kim Shikmin, his tone carrying the impatience of someone buried under too much work.

On the other end, a deep, steady voice replied bluntly. “Hello, Dr. Kim Shikmin… Have you listened to your voicemails?”

The director frowned, lifting his office phone to his ear as he checked his inbox. “Uh… I haven’t had the time. Why?” he asked, a hint of irritation in his voice as he scanned his screen for any relevant notifications.

A low, dark chuckle echoed through the line—a sound that made his skin crawl. “I’ll give you a new message, sir… There’s a vampire in Seoul. You might want to look into that…”

Kim Shikmin felt a chill run down his spine. He choked on his own saliva in surprise, coughing lightly as he tried to process what he’d just heard. “Is this a joke? How could a vampire possibly exist in this day and age?” His tone shifted from disbelief to growing tension.

The same laughter came again—slow, mocking. “Oh, Mr. Kim Shikmin… Maybe you’re a little too naïve… But there is one. There’s a vampire in Seoul, and maybe… he’s closer to you than you think.”

The director’s stomach tightened. “Closer to me? What do you mean by that?” he asked urgently, but all he got in response was the flat, final click of the line disconnecting.

He blinked a few times before glancing down at his phone, the glowing screen reflecting his stunned expression. Without wasting another second, he swiped and opened the pending voicemail.

Check your blood reserves.

His body reacted before his mind could catch up. He shot to his feet and hurried down to the hospital’s blood bank. When he arrived, he found two nurses and a doctor checking inventory—everything seemed normal. Too normal.

“Has everything been alright down here?” he asked, trying to sound calm.

The nurses turned to him, a flicker of confusion crossing their faces before one nodded. “Of course. Mingyu’s been coming by to check the blood bank every week…” one of them replied casually.

Shikmin frowned. “Mingyu?”

The doctor in charge of the blood bank spoke up. “Yeah, he’s the one who handles removing the units that are about to expire.”

The director nodded slowly, though his unease didn’t fade. “Do you log them in the record as discarded units?”

“Of course… Here’s the logbook,” one of the nurses said, handing the hospital director the notebook.

Kim Shikmin took it with a steady hand, though his mind was already clouded with suspicion. Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed back to his office, closing the door behind him so he could look through it in peace.

He settled into his chair, ran his fingers over the cover, then opened it, turning the pages carefully. He knew Mingyu didn’t always handle the paperwork himself. Sometimes he just oversaw the disposal of biological waste and made sure to remove the expired blood bags before they were logged. It wasn’t out of the ordinary… but something didn’t sit right.

At first glance, everything looked fine. But when he studied the dates and quantities more closely, a pattern emerged. For the past two years, Mingyu had been logging exactly twelve expired blood bags per week. Too consistent. Too precise. Could that many really be going bad that regularly?

And the most alarming part: in the last two weeks, the number had jumped to twenty discarded bags. The director drummed his fingers on the desk. His breathing grew heavier, like his body had already reached a conclusion his mind refused to accept.

Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and dialed his son’s number. The line rang a couple of times before Mingyu’s voice came through.

“Hey, Dad?”

Kim Shikmin took a slow breath before answering. “Mingyu…” He cleared his throat, his tone now firm. “Can you tell me why you’ve been taking out a constant number of expired blood reserves from the bank? And why that number’s gone up in the last two weeks?”

There was a brief silence on the other end, but when Gyu spoke, it was with a calm confidence that unsettled his father. “Well… they’re expired. They shouldn’t stay in the blood bank, and lately there’s just been more. It’s dangerous to keep them there in case someone uses them by mistake. You know that, Dad.”

The explanation was logical. Reasonable. But there was something in Mingyu’s tone—an odd firmness. Kim Shikmin pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. “So… it must’ve been a joke,” he muttered under his breath.

But Mingyu heard him. “A joke about what, Dad?” he asked, sounding calm—though there was something almost imperceptible beneath it. Tension, maybe.

The director laughed, shaking his head. “Someone called me saying there’s a vampire in Seoul. Can you believe that?”

The silence that followed lasted a second too long. Then Mingyu laughed too—lightly, casually. But he didn’t answer to his dad’s question.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

Mingyu had spent the past week planning every last detail, making sure his apartment would be the perfect haven for Wonwoo. He’d bought thick, heavy, dark curtains that would completely block out any trace of sunlight, turning his home into a sanctuary of impenetrable shadows. He focused especially on his bedroom—the only space the vampire had ever shown interest in. He placed lavender and sandalwood-scented candles in strategic spots, hoping the soft fragrance would please him.

For dinner, he made sure there’d be something delicious waiting. He bought crispy fried chicken and a steaming plate of tteokbokki, its spicy aroma filling the kitchen. He set the apartment lights to a warm, dim glow, creating a cozy atmosphere. He wanted Wonwoo to feel comfortable, to have no reason to turn down his invitation to spend the night. If everything went according to plan, he’d bring him home just as the sun disappeared behind the horizon and the city sank into dusk.

Everything was ready. Mingyu was ready. But just as he was about to leave, his phone buzzed with an unexpected call.

“Cheol? Everything okay?” he asked, frowning, surprised by the sudden contact.

On the other end, Seungcheol let out a slow, deep laugh. “Of course… Are you heading out right now?” he asked in a tone that Mingyu found a little too casual.

The werewolf shifted in his seat, uneasy. “Yeah… uh, how do you know?” he asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Call it instinct,” the vampire replied, amused. “You still can’t stop seeing your dear vampire, huh? Doesn’t it get tiring, driving all the way out of the city just to meet him?”

Mingyu huffed, a mix of exasperation and resolve in his voice. “No. I haven’t stopped seeing him, and I’m not planning to—just because it’s a long drive, Cheol,” he said firmly as he started the car.

There was a brief silence before Seungcheol spoke again. “Good for you, I guess… Just wanted to say hi. Good luck, Gyu.”

The call ended abruptly. Mingyu stared at his phone screen for a moment, a faint unease settling in his chest. There had been something in Seungcheol’s voice that left him with a strange feeling, but he decided to brush it off. He wasn’t going to let anything ruin the night he’d been looking forward to for days.

The drive to Wonwoo’s house felt short, thanks to the excitement bubbling inside him. When he arrived, he parked quickly and got out without wasting a second. When Wonwoo opened the door, the first thing Mingyu noticed was that he was wearing something different from his usual outfit. Instead of the classic black he always wore, he had on an elegant dark-purple suit that highlighted the pale tone of his skin and the crimson glint in his eyes.

Mingyu smiled in fascination and, without thinking twice, stepped closer and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him in. Wonwoo looked up at him—forced to, given their height difference—and his fangs peeked slightly as he smiled.

“You look incredible tonight,” the werewolf murmured in admiration.

Wonwoo tilted his head playfully. “That phone you gave me works like magic… I found this suit on it, though I’m not exactly sure how I paid for it. But it was delivered straight to my house.”

Mingyu let out a genuine laugh, already guessing that, somehow, the purchase had been charged to his account without the vampire realizing it. But he didn’t mind in the slightest. If Wonwoo looked that radiant and happy, every cent was worth it.

“Don’t worry about that. You look beautiful,” he assured him.

Wonwoo didn’t answer with words. Instead, he rose on his toes and pressed a soft kiss to Mingyu’s lips—chaste and brief, like all the kisses he gave him. Still, to Mingyu, each one of them meant the world.

They walked hand in hand toward Mingyu’s car, their fingers naturally intertwined. Wonwoo gazed curiously at the city lights flickering through the window, the reflections dancing in his dark eyes. The night breeze slipped through the small opening in the window, carrying with it the faint scent of the Han River as they drove past. Won recognized the area instantly, though he knew Mingyu’s apartment wasn’t nearby.

The drive was peaceful, broken only by Mingyu’s quiet sighs of anticipation and the occasional glance he stole at his companion. When they finally reached the modern apartment complex, the werewolf parked smoothly, and they both got out of the car. They rode up in the elevator in silence, comfortable in each other’s closeness. But as the doors closed and the elevator began to rise, Mingyu suddenly noticed something that took his breath away—Wonwoo’s reflection was missing from the mirrors around them.

The vampire, however, didn’t react. He had never seen himself in a mirror, which made the idea of his own appearance feel almost unreal. He had never told Gyu, but the only time he’d gotten a faint idea of what he looked like was when the werewolf tried to teach him how to take selfies with the phone. Wonwoo had never had the courage to look at them. Instead, he amused himself exploring other apps, pressing random buttons without ever daring to open the gallery.

Mingyu wrapped his arms around him gently, his warmth enveloping Wonwoo’s cooler body. He looked into his eyes with such intensity that the vampire could barely hold his gaze. There was so much affection there that it almost overwhelmed him—but he liked it. A lot.

The soft chime of the elevator interrupted the moment, announcing their arrival. Hand in hand, they walked to the apartment door, which Mingyu unlocked quickly. Inside, the darkness dominated, broken only by faint, warm lights that gave the place a cozy, inviting atmosphere. Wonwoo smiled at the sight—the modern couches looked incredibly comfortable, and the thick curtains covering the window blocked out every trace of light from outside.

“Do you want to eat here, or would you rather sit in the dining room?” Mingyu asked, watching as Wonwoo took in every detail.

“Oh, the dining room sounds better. I want to see it too,” he replied with quiet enthusiasm, turning to him with a small smile.

Mingyu nodded and led him toward the dining area, which opened into the kitchen. Wonwoo was fascinated by how much there was to see—the appliances gleamed under the dim light, the cabinets were neatly organized, and in the center of the table, his blood supply was already waiting for him.

“Sit down,” Mingyu said, handing him the blood bag before taking a seat across from him.

Wonwoo held the bag in his hands but hesitated before drinking. His instincts told him to turn away so Mingyu wouldn’t see, but before he could move, the werewolf reached out and stopped him gently.

“Let me see you,” he asked softly, almost pleading.

The vampire looked at him, searching for sincerity in his eyes. Was there really anything he needed to hide from him? After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to give in to the request.

He sank his fangs into the bag, piercing the material with ease. Mingyu watched in awe as Wonwoo’s lips closed around the opening and he tilted his head slightly. The moment the first taste of blood touched his tongue, a shiver ran through him—his body relaxed instantly. His eyelids fluttered shut in pleasure, his throat moved as he swallowed, and a soft moan escaped his lips as his chest rose and fell with each sip.

Mingyu couldn’t look away. Watching Wonwoo give in to the pleasure of drinking blood left him completely entranced. He wondered if there were other ways he could make his vampire feel something like that—something that deep, that consuming.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

Wonwoo actually liked tteokbokki—its intense spiciness, that burning sensation that contrasted with the chewy softness of the rice cakes. The fried chicken, on the other hand, didn’t quite win him over. The crispy breading felt a bit too rough against his palate, though the juicy meat inside was pleasantly warm and comforting. Mingyu watched each of his reactions carefully, mentally noting every preference so he could bring him more spicy food in the future—and fried chicken prepared in a way he’d actually enjoy.

For dessert, Gyu offered him a generous plate of ripe strawberries, which Wonu devoured eagerly, savoring the burst of juicy sweetness in his mouth as they both left the dining room.

“Do you want to watch a movie? Or what would you like to do, Won?” Mingyu asked with genuine interest, his gaze soft as it lingered on the vampire.

Wonu seemed to think for a moment, a mischievous spark lighting up his eyes before he smiled. “I want to see your room,” he said innocently—though the effect on Mingyu was instant. His mind clouded for a second with thoughts he had to shake off quickly. He cleared his throat and nodded, leading Wonwoo to his bedroom.

The werewolf entered first, lighting several scented candles that filled the room with a flickering, golden glow and a soothing aroma. When Wonu finally stepped inside, his eyes widened in surprise and awe. The room was wrapped in a cozy darkness, broken only by the warm candlelight. Mingyu’s bed was huge—at least double or maybe triple the size of his coffin. The plush blankets looked impossibly soft and inviting, the kind you could just sink into. Wonwoo couldn’t help but wonder how comfortable it would feel—whether he could ever trade his rigid coffin for something like this.

Curious, he approached slowly and sat down on the edge of the mattress, his hands brushing over the fluffy blanket spread across it. A smile of satisfaction curved his lips before he gave a small, playful bounce, feeling his body sink into the softness.

“I like this,” he confessed excitedly, his voice full of genuine delight.

Mingyu quickly joined him, sitting by his side with a proud grin. “Yeah, my bed’s really, really comfy. It’s my favorite place,” he said with a teasing tone.

“It’s amazing,” Wonu murmured, lost in the feel of the mattress. Then he glanced up at him, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes before asking, “Do you think I could trade my coffin for a bed like this?”

Mingyu nodded without hesitation. “You can just stay here in my bed, if you want…” he offered casually, giving him a playful wink.

Wonwoo clicked his tongue and shook his head, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “Mingyu, you’re always so…” His sentence trailed off—words slipping away before he could find the right one. Instead, he acted. He leaned forward and kissed him.

The kiss started the same as always—slow, gentle, full of care. Wonu kissed Mingyu with tenderness, with a reverence that made sure his fangs never got in the way. But this time, Mingyu deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue between the vampire’s lips.

Wonwoo tensed for a split second at the new sensation, but the unexpected pleasure made him clutch Mingyu’s shoulders tighter. His fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, as if afraid that letting go would mean losing that feeling.

Before either of them realized it, they were lying on the bed, kissing with growing urgency. Mingyu, testing the limits, pulled Wonwoo closer, pressing him against his body with a hunger he could barely contain.

The warmth radiating from the werewolf’s skin sent electric waves through Wonu—tingling, addictive warmth that made his whole body react. Without warning, something in him stirred awake—a desire he hadn’t even known he was capable of feeling. The heat of Mingyu’s breath, the daring movement of his tongue—it was all too much.

Wonwoo could hardly process it. He’d never felt anything like this before—never such a burning, all-consuming fire inside him. And for once, he didn’t care.

A soft moan escaped him mid-kiss, muffled but enough to stoke Mingyu’s desire even more, his own arousal now impossible to hide. With every minute that passed, the vampire became more responsive, his body yielding to the warmth of the moment, letting himself feel freely.

Sensing that surrender, Mingyu slowly slid his knee forward until it brushed against Wonu’s thigh—and then a little higher, grazing him where he was most sensitive. The contact, faint as it was, made Wonwoo shiver from head to toe, his lips parting in a sharp gasp. The pressure increased just slightly, and a broken sound almost escaped his throat.

Wonwoo tried to pull back, to catch his breath, but Mingyu didn’t let him go completely. With his eyes still closed, he followed him, brushing their noses together in an Eskimo kiss—soft, tender, and full of contrast against the heat building between them. Wonwoo’s heart pounded so hard he could almost hear it, a strange sensation for someone whose existence had always been marked by stillness and cold. He was aroused, yes—but also nervous.

“Mingyu…” His voice came out as a trembling whisper, but it was enough to make the werewolf open his eyes and look at him carefully.

Wonu swallowed hard, suddenly feeling vulnerable—exposed in every sense of the word. His shaky fingers clung to Mingyu’s shirt as he gathered the courage to speak. “Mingyu, I’ve never… I’ve never done this with anyone.”

The confession hung heavy in the air—but it also stirred something tender inside Mingyu. The honesty in Wonwoo’s voice, the fragile sincerity of it, made his chest ache with affection.

“Do you want us to stop?” Mingyu asked quietly, his voice calm and steady—gentle, but firm, with no pressure at all. He watched Wonwoo closely, seeing the flicker of conflict in his eyes, caught between desire and uncertainty.

Chapter Text

The room was wrapped in a conspiratorial half-light, lit only by the faint glow of the candles flickering. The air was thick with expectation and desire, vibrating between them as if the universe itself were holding its breath in anticipation. Wonwoo stood motionless, every cell in his body trembling under Mingyu’s intense gaze, a strange heat expanding in his chest, winding through his skin like a burning ember.

Mingyu never looked away from him, his expression a mix of tenderness and hunger, silent promises shimmering in his eyes, and a love begging to be expressed through every touch. Wonwoo’s heartbeat thundered in his ears, a tangled mess of longing and anxiety climbing up his throat as his lips parted, letting out a whisper barely audible.

“It’s okay, Mingyu…” His words floated in the air like a secret. He closed his eyes slowly, surrendering himself to the werewolf’s will. “I trust you.”

Mingyu smiled warmly, but inside, a fire roared. He leaned in slowly, closing the distance between their lips until they finally brushed. At first, the kiss was timid—a cautious caress, a shy exploration—but little by little it deepened, grew more intense, his mouth claiming the vampire’s with devoted hunger.

Wonwoo’s skin tingled, every inch of him awakening under the warmth that Mingyu poured into him. The coldness that had always defined him began to melt away beneath the heat of those kisses, of those lips wandering slowly down to his neck. A shiver ran through him when he felt Mingyu’s warm breath against his skin, just before his lips closed over the curve of his throat.

“Ah… Mingyu…” Wonwoo’s voice broke in a trembling whisper, his shaky hands clutching at the werewolf’s jacket, trying to anchor himself amid the storm of unfamiliar sensations flooding his body.

Encouraged by Wonwoo’s breathless moans, Mingyu slid his hands gently over his shoulders, removing his jacket with deliberate slowness—as if every motion were part of a ritual of worship. His fingers traced invisible lines across Wonwoo’s skin, pulling tiny gasps of pleasure from his lips as he shed the layers still separating them. With each kiss placed along his jaw, his neck, the line of his collarbone, Wonwoo’s breathing grew ragged, his chest rising and falling with mounting need.

Mingyu began unbuttoning the vampire’s shirt, each button freeing another inch of pale skin to his gaze. Wonwoo could do nothing but cling to the sheets beneath him, unsure what to do with his own trembling hands. The werewolf, attentive to every tiny shiver, gave him a soft smile before sliding the fabric down his shoulders, leaving him half-naked under his devouring eyes.

The blush on Wonwoo’s cheeks made him even more beautiful. His chest rose and fell, struggling to keep a steady rhythm. His lips, parted and still wet from Mingyu’s kisses, trembled slightly.

“You can touch me too, Won…” Mingyu’s voice was a low rumble, an invitation wrapped in warmth.

Wonwoo swallowed hard but didn’t back away. With trembling fingers, he began undressing Mingyu in the same careful way—slipping off his jacket first, then fumbling adorably with the buttons of his shirt. His eyes lit up with every inch of skin revealed, fascinated by the warm tone of Mingyu’s body against his own. When the shirt finally fell aside, Wonwoo bit his lower lip, staring for a few seconds before giving in to his impulse, pressing his lips to Mingyu’s in a kiss more urgent, more desperate.

His hands, once hesitant, moved almost on instinct—exploring the werewolf’s chest with a mix of curiosity and restrained desire. His palms brushed softly over Mingyu’s nipples, drawing a low growl from him—a raw, guttural sound that vibrated in the air and sank deep into Wonwoo’s core.

The vampire startled at the sound, eyes widening with a flicker of concern. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, voice trembling with innocence.

Mingyu, eyes closed and breath unsteady, shook his head, his chest rising and falling fast. “No, baby…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, heavy enough to touch. “What you did with your hands… I liked it.”

A shiver ran down Wonwoo’s spine at those words. He hesitated for a moment, then moved his palms again, tracing slow circles over Mingyu’s chest, brushing his nipples with the same delicate touch. The werewolf let out a deep sigh, his body tensing beneath the vampire’s experimental caresses.

“Ah… Won…” His voice broke into a restrained moan, fingers digging into the sheets as his body reacted to every touch.

The tension between them grew thicker, the temperature in the room rising with every brush of skin, every sound escaping their lips. The air crackled with a palpable electricity, as if both of them stood on the edge of an abyss, waiting for gravity to pull them together into something inevitably deep, inevitably beautiful.

Wonwoo nodded slowly, his gaze lost on Mingyu’s body, on his own quickened breathing, on the vibrant sensation still coursing through his skin. He had discovered something new—something that sparked inside him, making him tremble with an unfamiliar pleasure. His lips still tingled from the werewolf’s kisses, and he couldn’t help but wonder if those same feelings could awaken within him again, under another’s touch.

His dark eyes gleamed with a longing disguised as curiosity as he leaned toward Mingyu again, bringing his mouth close to the warmth of his skin. This time, instead of kissing him on the lips, he left a trail of soft kisses along his jaw, brushing against his skin with a tenderness that contrasted the pulse of desire pounding in his chest. His lips drifted down toward the werewolf’s neck, pausing on the sensitive skin of his throat. Wonwoo knew that Mingyu’s blood ran there—so close, so tempting—but he never once allowed himself to even think about biting. No, he wanted to explore him in another way, to know him through his lips, his tongue, through the trembling touch of his fingers on his chest.

His kisses were clumsy at first, exploratory, almost hesitant. But the way Mingyu sighed under his touch, the way his body relaxed and his hands gently guided him, gave Wonwoo confidence. He let himself suck lightly on the skin, tasting it with his tongue, and smiled faintly when Mingyu’s breathing deepened in response. Every sound that escaped Mingyu’s lips made him want to taste more, to find new ways to make him sigh, to make him moan.

Mingyu smiled to himself, watching how Wonwoo studied every reaction, how those dark eyes filled with something new—a mix of fascination and desire. But Mingyu wanted to explore too. He wanted to hear more of those sweet sounds the vampire could make. He wanted to see him unravel, to feel him melt under his touch until all he could do was moan his name in a breathless plea.

With a slow but sure movement, Mingyu turned him over gently, placing him beneath his body. Wonwoo gasped at the feeling of the werewolf’s warmth covering him completely, the way his body pressed against his, trapping him in an enveloping heat he didn’t want to escape.

Mingyu’s lips found his again, claiming them with a slow, wet, deep kiss. His tongue slid into the vampire’s mouth, tasting him with growing hunger as his hands explored that pale skin he found so mesmerizing. Then he began to move lower, his mouth savoring the sharp line of Wonwoo’s jaw, his neck, the delicate arch of his collarbone.

Wonwoo shivered as Mingyu’s hot breath brushed across his skin. The werewolf’s lips trailed downward, leaving soft kisses and gentle sucks until they reached his chest. Mingyu had always admired Wonwoo’s defined collarbones, the flawless smoothness of his skin, but right then, what drew his attention most were his nipples—small, pink, and hardened with anticipation.

When his tongue brushed over the tiny peak of his chest, Wonwoo let out a strangled sound, barely a gasp slipping past his parted lips. But when Mingyu circled it with his tongue and drew it fully into his mouth, the vampire couldn’t hold back a louder moan, his back arching involuntarily at the sensation.

“Ah… Mingyu…” he whispered, his voice trembling and broken.

The werewolf smiled against his skin before sucking harder, his tongue teasing the sensitive bud while his right hand slid to the other nipple, rubbing it in slow circles. Wonwoo twisted beneath his touch, his hands reaching for Mingyu’s dark hair, tangling in it as he unconsciously pulled him closer against his chest.

“Mmm…” Mingyu growled softly in response, savoring the way the vampire reacted to every movement.

Wonwoo’s body was turning into fire—a dizzying mix of heat, pleasure, and something deeper he couldn’t name, something that made every part of him feel full, alive, throbbing. When Mingyu switched sides, giving the same attention to his other nipple, Wonwoo let out a shaky gasp, his grip on Mingyu’s hair loosening slightly as his whole body quivered beneath him.

But that wasn’t all that gave him away. Wonwoo felt his own erection pressing against his abdomen—hard, thick, throbbing. The blood Mingyu had given him flowed through his body, fueling his need, fanning the fire inside him. And Mingyu noticed.

The werewolf moved his mouth lower, leaving wet kisses along Wonwoo’s flat stomach, his hands working skillfully at the vampire’s pants. Without rushing, he unbuttoned them and slid them down over his hips, easily pulling them off. What he saw as he did made him pause.

Wonwoo wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Mingyu let out a low, amused laugh before refocusing on what was in front of him. His eyes traced the length of Wonwoo’s erection—thick and heavy, resting against his belly, completely exposed to him. Without wasting another second, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the tip, his tongue tasting it with slow, teasing movements.

Wonwoo’s body jerked violently at the touch. “Min–Mingyu…” he gasped, his voice breaking into a whisper as his eyes fluttered shut and his back arched, his skin burning with a mix of surprise and pleasure.

The feeling of Mingyu’s tongue sliding slowly over the head of his cock was too much—his body wasn’t ready for that kind of stimulation. It was hot, it was wet, it was… overwhelming. And just as he thought he might get used to it, Mingyu wrapped his lips around him completely.

Wonwoo let out a strangled sound, his head falling back against the bed, his hands gripping the sheets tightly as the werewolf’s mouth consumed him. The heat, the pressure, the feeling of Mingyu’s throat closing around his cock… it was too much.

A shiver shot through him, and before he could stop it, his orgasm hit—sudden, intense, devastating. His back arched again, his breath breaking into ragged gasps, his mind going blank as pleasure swallowed him whole.

Vampires didn’t produce semen, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t feel pleasure. And what he had just felt was beyond pleasure—it was something entirely new, something that made his heart pound hard in his chest, something that made him cling to Mingyu in desperation, in yearning, in love.

Wonwoo’s body trembled violently, a visceral reaction to the pleasure that still held him captive in an endless spiral. His chest rose and fell quickly—even though he didn’t need to breathe, his body moved instinctively, as if oxygen were vital in that moment. His skin remained flawless, untouched by sweat, showing no sign of the physical strain consuming him—yet his blush was deeper than ever, a beautiful flush standing out against the immaculate paleness of his skin. His parted lips released shaky sighs, his mind still floating in that limbo of pleasure, caught between the lingering sensation of Mingyu’s mouth and the absence of release that only highlighted his unique nature.

Mingyu watched him with fascination, noticing every small tremor, every involuntary spasm that ran through the vampire’s body. Wonwoo kept trembling, his thighs still tight, as if the pleasure hadn’t fully ended — as if his body refused to let go of the feeling that had dragged him to the edge. His eyes remained closed, lost in the lingering rush of sensations, until Mingyu’s deep voice slowly pulled him back from his trance.

“Do you want to keep going, Won?” the werewolf whispered, his tone warm and gentle, though tinted with quiet desire.

Wonwoo’s eyelids fluttered open slightly, his dark eyes finding Mingyu’s. He looked at him in silence for a few moments, as if trying to understand what he felt right then, as if wanting to be sure he was really ready for what came next. But when he saw the tenderness in Mingyu’s eyes, the patience in the way he waited, his heart seemed to settle.

Without thinking too much, he nodded, his voice soft but firm as he answered,

“Yes… but be gentle,” he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Mingyu’s chest warmed at those words, his protective instinct roaring to life inside him. He leaned over Wonwoo and pressed a kiss to his forehead, his warm breath brushing his skin as he whispered against it: “I will. I’ll be gentle, baby.”

Wonwoo closed his eyes again, giving himself to him completely. There was no one he trusted more, no one he loved the way he loved Mingyu. The dim candlelight cast dancing shadows across the walls, wrapping the room in a quiet intimacy, as if time itself had stopped just for them.

Mingyu reached toward the bedside table and pulled out a small bottle of lube, opening it easily. The soft pop of the cap broke the silence of the room, followed by the slick sound of the liquid being poured onto his fingers. He rubbed it between them, warming it up before moving closer between Wonwoo’s thighs.

Anticipation gripped the vampire’s body again, his muscles quivering slightly at Mingyu’s nearness. His breathing turned uneven when the werewolf leaned down to press a kiss to the inside of one thigh, then another on the opposite one—his lips brushing over his skin with almost worshipful devotion.

“Ah…” Wonwoo gasped softly, his voice cracking as he felt Mingyu’s mouth on his most sensitive skin.

The werewolf smiled against his skin before sliding a finger to his entrance, gently circling the tight opening. Wonwoo tensed instantly, his back arching as he felt the first touch. His mind wavered—wondering for a split second if he should stop, if maybe he should pull back before things went too far. But then Mingyu’s lips pressed another warm kiss against his stomach, and his fingers were so gentle, so careful, so patient.

Heat bloomed low in his belly again, a new fire catching inside him. Wonwoo relaxed just a little—enough to accept what came next.

Mingyu pressed softly, and the first finger slipped inside. It was slow—so slow that Wonwoo barely felt it at first—but the strange sensation of being filled made his body react immediately. His first instinct was to tense up, his muscles clenching around the intrusion, an instinct he couldn’t fight.

Mingyu grit his teeth as warmth  tightened around him, his self-control put to the test in that instant. His own cock throbbed, hard and aching for attention, but he didn’t rush. This was for Wonwoo—to make him feel good, to make sure his first time was something beautiful.

Wonwoo bit his lower lip, his fangs barely visible as he tried not to let any sound betray him and show the initial discomfort.

“Relax, Won…” Mingyu whispered, his other hand caressing his thigh tenderly, his voice a soothing balm against the vampire’s tension. “Or… do you want us to stop here?”

The hesitation in his voice made Wonwoo open his eyes immediately. His breathing was still shaky, but he shook his head quickly. “No… no, let’s keep going,” he managed between soft, uneven breaths. “I’m… I’m going to relax.”

He forced himself to take a deep breath, to let his body adjust to the new sensation. He closed his eyes and focused on the one thing he knew for sure: he loved Mingyu. Truly loved him. And he wanted to give himself to him this way—wanted to know what it felt like to be his completely.

Little by little, his body gave in. His breathing evened out, and his grip on the sheets loosened. Mingyu felt it and knew he could continue. He pushed his finger in a little deeper until it was fully inside. He paused for a moment, letting Wonwoo get used to it before he began to move—slow, steady, careful.

The rhythm was unhurried, his movements deliberate and exploring. His finger slid in and out smoothly, preparing him with patience, making sure there was no pain. Wonwoo squirmed a little, his mouth parting as a soft moan escaped his throat.

“Ah…” It was a fragile, sweet, almost pleading sound.

Mingyu shivered at the sound of it, a chill running down his spine. His free hand slid up to the vampire’s stomach, stroking it gently as he kept working him open. His mouth left kisses across Wonwoo’s chest, his tongue tracing slow circles around his nipples, trying to distract him with pleasure as his body adapted.

“You’re doing so well, baby…” Mingyu whispered against his skin, his voice low and filled with adoration.

Wonwoo bit his lip, his body reacting in ways he hadn’t expected. The discomfort was gone. Now there was something else growing inside him—something close to pleasure, something that made him want more.

Wonwoo’s insides quivered with every careful movement of Mingyu’s fingers, his body responding to each touch with a heady mix of pleasure and anticipation. His chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm, and though there wasn’t a single trace of sweat on his skin, it burned with a heat he’d never felt before. Mingyu watched him with devotion, mesmerized by the way his vampire surrendered to him—how his body adapted, accepted him, and more than that, seemed to crave him.

When he thought Wonwoo was ready for more, the werewolf let out a deep sigh and poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. The cold sensation warmed quickly against his skin before he, with utmost care, slid a second finger in beside the first. Wonwoo hissed, his back arching slightly at the stretch. But even in that initial discomfort, his body didn’t resist—it welcomed the intrusion, slowly, sweetly, with a pressure that clung around Mingyu’s fingers as if refusing to let them go.

Mingyu’s tongue trailed slowly down the vampire’s abdomen, leaving wet kisses that sent new shivers across Wonwoo’s skin. His breaths came faster, shorter, more desperate. His trembling gasps mixed with soft, involuntary sounds—those broken, sweet moans that made Mingyu’s desire nearly unbearable.

“Min–Mingyu… oh… more…” Wonwoo moaned, his voice almost pleading.

Mingyu didn’t need more encouragement. He was generous with the lube, and with endless patience, began to prepare Wonwoo for what was coming. At first, his body still resisted a little, but the fire burning in the vampire’s veins quickly overcame any trace of discomfort.

The werewolf smiled as he noticed how Wonwoo’s body responded faster and faster. His free hand slid up his chest, finding one of his nipples and teasing it. He pinched it gently, drawing a broken moan from Wonwoo’s throat, his body reacting instantly to the double stimulation.

“A–ah… Mingyu…” His voice cracked when the werewolf slipped in a third finger.

The stretch was more intense—not painful, just… overwhelming. The way Mingyu filled him lit something inside Wonwoo, something raw and primal he couldn’t describe. His cock, hard and throbbing against his abdomen, begged for attention, but right then all that mattered was the sensation of those three fingers moving inside him.

And then, his body acted on its own. Wonwoo started to move his hips—seeking more. He lifted them slightly, fucking himself against Mingyu’s hand in a desperate search for friction, for contact, for more of that dizzying heat.

Mingyu blinked in surprise for a moment, but instinct took over. Without thinking, he matched his rhythm, his fingers thrusting in and out with more confidence, more certainty. It wasn’t rough, but it was firmer, more precise—exploring him, learning every reaction, memorizing every sound that escaped his lips. And then he found it.

The tips of his fingers brushed against a deep spot inside the vampire, and the moment he touched it, Wonwoo lost his breath. “Oh—there!” he cried, his back arching violently, his mouth falling open as his fangs gleamed under the flickering candlelight.

Mingyu understood instantly. He didn’t hesitate—didn’t stop. He pressed against that spot again, and again, with perfect rhythm and deliberate precision, driving Wonwoo closer and closer to the edge of madness.

“M–Mingyu… ah… please…” Wonwoo moaned, his voice breaking under the weight of the pleasure consuming him.

The vampire’s body convulsed again, his insides clenching tightly around Mingyu’s fingers as a wave of ecstasy tore through him. A strangled moan escaped his throat as his body shuddered through another powerful orgasm, his thighs trembling uncontrollably.

Mingyu growled in satisfaction, feeling the way Wonwoo’s body reacted—how his entrance pulsed and tightened around his fingers so beautifully.

It took several seconds before Wonwoo could catch his breath again, his mind still dazed from the intensity of what he’d just felt. Now he understood why sex was such an obsession for so many vampires—why some seemed to live for it. He had never imagined it could feel like this.

But something was still missing. He wanted more. Not just for himself—for Mingyu too. He wanted to see him lose control, to hear him moan his name with the same desperate need he’d just felt.

He swallowed hard, then opened his eyes and looked straight at him. “Mingyu… please…”

Mingyu didn’t need to hear more. His cock throbbed with an almost painful need, and the fact that he’d already made Wonwoo come twice had him hanging by a thread. He grabbed the bottle of lube and coated himself generously, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on Wonwoo’s relaxed body sprawled before him.

But getting there wouldn’t be easy. He was a lot bigger than what Wonwoo’s body had taken so far, and when he tried to push just the tip inside, the vampire’s body tensed instantly, resisting the intrusion.

“Ahh…” Wonwoo gasped, his voice trembling, his back arching slightly from the pressure.

Mingyu clenched his teeth. The way Wonwoo gasped, the way his body reacted—it was almost too much to bear. But he had to take it slow.

He leaned over him, bracing one arm beside Wonwoo’s head, brushing his lips against his in a slow, sweet kiss. “I know, baby… I’ll be gentle…” he whispered, his voice rough, thick with restrained desire.

Wonwoo could only nod, biting his lower lip, his fangs showing without meaning to. Mingyu noticed that—and for a moment, he wondered why. Was the pleasure so intense that it made him react like that? Or… could desire for blood feel just as intoxicating as what he was doing to him now?

Wonwoo tried to focus, to force his body to relax, while Mingyu pressed forward with patience, his erection sliding slowly into him—demanding space, demanding surrender.

The vampire squeezed his eyes shut, his back arching a little as he felt himself stretch around Mingyu, the pressure spreading from his stomach to his thighs, down to the tips of his fingers. His entrance gripped him so tightly it was almost overwhelming, as if his own body didn’t know how to let him go. And when Mingyu finally managed to push in deeper, Wonwoo felt dizzy from the sensation.

“Ahh… Gyu…” he gasped, his voice breaking in the air as his chest rose and fell rapidly.

Mingyu let out a low growl, his forehead falling against Wonwoo’s collarbone as he fought to keep control, to stop himself from losing it the moment that impossible warmth wrapped around him. God, he was so tight, so hot, that he had to stop—had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from thrusting hard and fast. He didn’t want to rush, didn’t want to hurt him.

Meanwhile, Wonwoo nearly came again just from the feeling of being filled like that. It felt so, so good—the weight of Mingyu above him, his heat sinking into him, the way his cock pulsed inside him, pressing in with an unexpected sweetness. His trembling arms hooked around the werewolf’s neck and pulled him closer, kissing him deeply, fully giving in.

It was slow, as always, careful—making sure his fangs didn’t graze Mingyu’s skin. But something about this kiss was different. It was hungrier, needier. Wonwoo moaned softly against his lips every time Mingyu moved just a little, when he felt him sink deeper, when the initial burn melted into pure pleasure.

Mingyu started moving, slowly at first, testing Wonwoo’s reaction. Each time he rolled his hips, he stole small gasps from him—soft moans that grew sweeter with every careful thrust. Wonwoo couldn’t help himself; he was enjoying it too much. What surprised him most was how much he liked feeling Mingyu’s sweat on his skin—a new sensation, a physical proof of desire, something his immortal body had never experienced before.

“Min–Mingyu…” he whispered between gasps, his voice breaking into a breathy moan of pure pleasure.

Everything was so beautiful. It felt like another world—a bubble where only the two of them existed, where every touch, every kiss, every movement felt like worship. And Mingyu never stopped being gentle—treating him with devotion, moving inside him with the perfect blend of tenderness and want.

Thanks to how relaxed Wonwoo’s body was now, Mingyu was able to push in completely, his cock sliding all the way to the deepest part of him.

“Ah… ahh…” Wonwoo moaned loudly, his back arching, his body trembling beneath him.

His nails dug into Mingyu’s back, his mind fogged by pleasure, by the way the werewolf’s thick cock filled him to the limit. And then he felt it. That first brush against his prostate stole the breath right out of him.

“Ah–Ah! Mingyu… right there…” his voice broke into a strangled cry, his whole body trembling.

Mingyu’s skin prickled at the sound of his voice like that, his self-control hanging by a thread. The way Wonwoo reacted, the way he clenched around him every time he hit that spot, was driving him insane. Without thinking, he increased his pace, adjusting the angle of his thrusts until he struck that exact place again.

“Ahh… yes… yes…” Wonwoo writhed beneath him, his legs shaking, his chest rising and falling with desperate, shallow breaths.

Mingyu rolled his hips with more precision, keeping a steady rhythm, giving him exactly what he wanted. Every time he pushed inside, he could feel how Wonwoo’s body responded—how that tight heat pulsed around his cock, gripping him, holding him, as if his body wanted him just as much as he wanted it.

“Won… God, Wonwoo…” he growled, leaning down to kiss him again, his tongue exploring the vampire’s mouth as his movements grew gradually faster.

The pace wasn’t brutal—but it was deeper, stronger, more insistent. And Wonwoo felt it in every inch of his body.

“Don’t… don’t stop…” he pleaded, his fingers digging into Mingyu’s shoulders, his body completely surrendered to pleasure.

Mingyu obeyed, driving his hips faster, just enough to push him higher, to bring him right to the edge. And then, with one particularly deep thrust, Wonwoo saw stars.

“Ohh! Mingyu!” he cried out, his back arching, his entire body shaking as an earth-shattering orgasm ripped through him.

This one wasn’t like the others. It was more intense, deeper—like his whole being was wrapped in raw, consuming pleasure. It made him tremble, lose himself, give in completely.

And Mingyu couldn’t hold back any longer. The uncontrollable tightening of Wonwoo’s body around him pushed him over the edge, and with a guttural growl, he thrust all the way in, his orgasm exploding deep inside the vampire.

“Wonwoo…” he gasped, his voice trembling, his body shaking with each spasm as his release poured into him. Wonwoo nearly blacked out at the sensation.

The heat of Mingyu’s cum filling him sent a shiver racing through his body, a strange, electric pulse that stole his breath. And then he felt it—something unfamiliar, something his body did on its own. His insides absorbed Mingyu’s release, as if claiming it, as if his body somehow knew it could draw from it. It wasn’t as strong as drinking blood, but he felt it—a faint spark of energy spreading through him.

Mingyu panted heavily above him, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. Slowly, he pulled out—and blinked in surprise when he realized his cock was completely clean, not a single drop left behind.

“What…?” he whispered, confusion flickering across his face.

But Wonwoo didn’t give him time to think. He sat up, cupped Mingyu’s face in his hands, and kissed him with fierce intensity. Their lips moved together in desperation, in hunger, in a fiery passion that burned away every question, every thought. In that moment, there was nothing else in the world but them.

Chapter Text

Wonwoo still wasn’t completely satisfied. Well… in a way he was—but he wanted more of Mingyu, wanted to explore him until he knew every corner of his desire. His lips were still swollen from kissing, wet and hungry, as they moved together on the bed, rolling in a clumsy, ravenous tangle until the vampire ended up on top of the werewolf, framing him with his slender, pale body. Wonwoo’s dark gaze devoured every flicker of Mingyu’s expression with barely contained hunger, and without hesitation, he leaned in, letting his mouth roam over every bit of skin he could reach.

His lips pressed against Mingyu’s strong jaw, leaving a fleeting mark before moving down, sucking at the sensitive skin of his neck, right above the racing pulse of his prey. His tongue—warm and agile—traced a wet path down Mingyu’s muscular torso, descending with maddening slowness until it reached the rigid proof of his arousal. The wolf let out a broken gasp, his breathing turning into a strangled moan when Wonwoo’s cool breath ghosted over his half-awakened erection.

From where he was, mouth hovering dangerously close to that throbbing want, Wonwoo looked up. His eyes gleamed through his lashes, watching Mingyu with a predatory intensity that froze him in place—as if caught in a spell. Yet there was no cruelty in the way the vampire extended his tongue and slid it, almost reverently, over the sensitive tip of his cock. It was a timid touch at first, like he was learning its texture and taste, but every reaction from Mingyu gave him confidence.

With careful movements, his tongue explored every inch, flicking lightly before wrapping more decisively around him. A thin string of saliva connected his lips to the swollen head when he pulled back. Mingyu shuddered, a helpless moan slipping out as his stomach tightened from the sudden rush of pleasure.

Then Wonwoo stopped. “Wait, Mingyu…” His voice came out as a shaky whisper, his hand still lazily stroking the werewolf’s erection.

Mingyu, eyes half-lidded and chest rising and falling erratically, pushed himself up on his forearms to look at him.

“Can you show me how to do it?” The question caught him off guard. Wonwoo took Mingyu’s left hand and gently guided it over his own head, leading him as he closed his lips again around the hot, thick length of Mingyu’s cock.

Mingyu held his breath. The wet warmth of the vampire’s mouth made him curse under it. He could’ve come right then—with those sinful lips wrapped around the tip of his dick—but he held back. Instead of forcing him, instead of setting the pace, he gave a subtle nudge, a silent reminder that Wonwoo could keep going.

Wonwoo skillfully hid his fangs and opened his mouth wider, letting Mingyu’s hardness slide across his tongue.

It was slow, uncertain. Wonwoo was nervous about doing something wrong, but the moment that heat enveloped Mingyu’s cock, the werewolf let out a sound so guttural it made the vampire tremble. He could feel every throb against his tongue, feel it swell a little more in response to his mouth.

His hand gripped the base, searching for stability. He tried to take more, relaxing his throat, but a moment of carelessness triggered his gag reflex, snapping him out of the trance. He froze, breathing deeply through his nose, adjusting to the sensation while Mingyu’s head tilted back with a strangled growl.

He was inexperienced. He knew it. Mingyu knew it. And yet, there was something about that clumsy effort that made it irresistible. Knowing he was the first—that those lips had never wrapped around anyone else’s cock—ignited something primal and possessive in Mingyu. Without realizing it, his hips moved. Just a little. Just a brush. Just a push.

But for Wonwoo, it felt like being shoved toward the edge of an unknown abyss. His throat protested at the intrusion, but something in him—maybe the same instinct guiding Mingyu—made him yield instead of resist. He relaxed, let his jaw open a little wider, and when Mingyu’s pelvis almost brushed his nose, his skin prickled with raw electricity.

A moan escaped his mouth, vibrating around the hard length between his lips. “Wonwoo…” Mingyu’s voice cracked, and that desperate note in his tone thrilled him.

The vampire wanted more. Wanted that sound again and again. He moved, pulling back just enough to breathe before sinking down with more resolve. The saliva made everything slicker, his lips gliding easily over hot skin, and the wet, filthy sounds of his mouth working filled the room with unmistakable lust. Faster. Deeper.

Mingyu’s fingers tangled in his hair—not pushing, not yet—but guiding him instinctively. The next time the tip of his cock brushed Wonwoo’s throat, the vampire held it there, letting the suction grow stronger. He hollowed his cheeks, let out another low moan, and that mix of heat, pressure, and sound made Mingyu growl, his back arching in pure pleasure.

Wonwoo lost himself in the rhythm, devouring him like it was his only source of life. The werewolf couldn’t hold out any longer. His whole body was strung tight, muscles etched by the strain of pleasure, hips trembling as he fought to keep the last shred of control. But Wonwoo didn’t let him escape. He quickened his pace, moving his mouth with a fierce, desperate rhythm—his determination clear in every motion.

His tongue, bolder now, wrapped around Mingyu’s erection with growing skill, tracing wet spirals over burning skin, dragging the tip along every sensitive spot it could find. He felt the throb against his lips, the tension pulsing in the flesh he devoured—and instead of slowing, he pushed deeper, swallowing him down mercilessly.

Mingyu looked down through ragged breaths, chest heaving in wild gasps. What he saw made a guttural growl tear from his throat. Wonwoo was utterly lost in what he was doing, consumed by the hunger of it. His lips were red, slick with spit and want, and his tongue—that long, unbelievably flexible tongue—curled and twisted around his cock with devastating precision.

It was too much. Too good. Too intense. “Wonwoo…” he gasped, voice breaking.

But the vampire didn’t stop. He sucked hard on the sensitive tip, tongue rubbing just beneath the head, drawing involuntary shudders from Mingyu. His cheeks hollowed, creating the perfect pressure, and when another moan rumbled up from deep in his throat, the vibration coursed through Mingyu’s cock like an electric shock.

The wolf’s body gave in. His back arched, fingers tangling in Wonwoo’s dark hair in a reflexive grip. Pressure built low in his gut until it burst, and with a strangled growl, he spilled into the vampire’s hot mouth.

The first touch of cum caught Wonwoo off guard. He felt the thick, sticky texture slide across his tongue, warmth spreading through his mouth—and for a second, instinct screamed at him to stop. His throat constricted as he noticed the strange taste, a metallic edge mixed with something heavier, foreign.Of course. It made sense. A werewolf’s blood didn’t appeal  to him; their essence must’ve shared that same incompatibility.

But even through that flicker of disgust, his body reacted in a way he couldn’t explain. Energy thrummed through his veins at the contact, an unfamiliar, alien vitality. His usually cold skin flushed with fleeting heat; his senses sharpened, and for a heartbeat—a real, living heartbeat—he could’ve sworn his long-dead heart stirred in his chest.

He took in everything Mingyu gave, swallowing slowly while his tongue explored the fading tremors of his climax. His breathing was shaky, lips swollen, and when he finally pulled away, it was with one last lazy lick, savoring the strange blend of pleasure and life.

Wonwoo moved back to Mingyu’s side. He was about to explain what had just happened when the door burst open, nearly torn off its hinges.

A werewolf, fully transformed and feral, charged into the room—its claws gouging deep marks into the frame as it entered. The dim light from the hall spilled across the dark room, revealing a towering, blood-soaked figure. His tattered white coat hung in shreds from a massive, fur-covered body, his breathing a low, dangerous growl.

“I’m sorry, Mingyu…” Wonwoo whispered, just before instinct took over.

Without hesitation, he bared his fangs and sank them deep into Mingyu’s neck. One… two… three seconds. He released his venom, feeling the hot rush of Mingyu’s blood flood his mouth. The taste was metallic, alien—unlike anything he’d ever drunk before. It didn’t burn, but it was thick, impure… something that shouldn’t exist.

The change was instant. Mingyu convulsed, a guttural roar ripping from his chest as his body arched unnaturally. Muscles expanded as though his skin could barely contain them; his spine cracked with a sickening sound as it stretched. His nails turned to sharp claws, his skin darkened to an ashen shade, and his jaw widened, revealing fangs longer than those of any vampire or werewolf.

“Mingyu!” the werewolf at the door barked—his voice trembling with fear.

But it wasn’t just Mingyu anymore. He had become something else. Something worse. His eyes burned with molten gold, radiating primal fury. The bed beneath him groaned and then shattered under his weight as his body grew larger, power surging through him until the very air seemed to vibrate.

The intruder hesitated—but then lunged for Wonwoo, claws extended to tear him apart. He never made it. Mingyu moved in a blur, seizing the attacker by the throat with impossible speed and slamming him into the wall. The impact cracked the concrete. He didn’t kill him—but the message was clear. He was in control now.

He turned slowly toward Wonwoo, his eyes glowing like embers. He said nothing. Simply reached out, lifted him effortlessly, and slung him over his back in one smooth, animal motion. He moved on instinct alone—but not the old kind. This was new. A fusion of predators at their peak.

They left the room without a fight. When Wonwoo saw the sky outside, he thought dawn must’ve come—but the moon still ruled the night. Mingyu didn’t take the stairs. Instead, he scaled the building with monstrous grace until they reached the rooftop.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t ask. Just sniffed the air and strode forward with terrifying certainty. A chill ran down Wonwoo’s spine. Mingyu was no longer just a werewolf. And not just a vampire. He was something else. Something immortal. Something unstoppable. And now—he belonged to him.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

Mingyu’s wild instinct—now fused with the abomination he had become—led them to Wonwoo’s house, hidden away in a remote corner, far from civilization. The wooden and stone structure stood solitary, bathed in the pale glow of the moon, while the night’s chill seeped deep into their bones.

Without saying a word, Mingyu gently set Wonwoo down in front of the door. His eyes, once blazing with a golden, inhuman light, now looked at him with a strange tenderness. There was something profound in his gaze—a primal but unshakable kind of love.

The cold bit into Wonwoo’s skin, reminding him that both of them were completely naked. His breath came out visible in the icy air, yet Mingyu didn’t seem to be affected by the low temperature. Wonwoo looked toward his door, unease slowly creeping up his chest.

“Mingyu... uh... are you there?” he asked cautiously, his voice sounding more fragile than he would’ve liked.

He knew he had turned Mingyu into something stronger, faster... but he had no idea what he had truly done. The old tales of vampires creating hybrids with werewolves had always seemed like a myth to him—a story meant to give purpose to his own existence. But now, he was seeing with his own eyes the reality behind those legends.

Mingyu let out a low growl—a guttural sound, not of threat, but of something closer to resignation. Then, without warning, he slumped down beside him, pressing his massive body against Wonwoo’s like an animal seeking warmth. Wonwoo blinked in surprise, feeling the scorching heat radiating from Mingyu’s skin, so stark against the frozen air. His muscles were hard as stone, yet when Wonwoo ran his hand over his rough fur, Mingyu exhaled a long, deep sigh.

And then, he began to change. His massive frame slowly shrank, bones cracking as they readjusted, fur receding until his sun-kissed, naked skin was revealed under the moonlight. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving with exhaustion. When he finally opened his eyes, they had returned to their familiar brown.

“My dad...” he murmured hoarsely, his hand going to his neck where he could still feel the mark of Wonwoo’s fangs. “My dad found us and then... you...”

His words hung in the air. Wonwoo felt a knot tighten in his stomach when Mingyu’s gaze met his.

The vampire cleared his throat and looked away. “I’m sorry... Min... I... panicked,” he admitted, the weight of his actions crushing him. “I thought that if you were stronger, faster... immortal...”

He couldn’t bring himself to meet Mingyu’s eyes. His voice faded on the last word. “I’m immortal now?” Mingyu asked, stunned.

Wonwoo nodded slowly. “Yes... and you’ll also... turn into that abomination whenever you feel you’re in danger... or when I am...” His voice faltered. “I think...”

The truth was, he wasn’t sure how it worked. He had risked everything in a desperate act... and now Mingyu would be with him forever. That thought should have brought him comfort, but all it stirred in his chest was guilt. He hadn’t given Mingyu a choice. He had done it all against his will.

Gyu still seemed to be processing everything, his mind tangled in the whirlwind of memories and changes that had happened in such a short time. Just then, the darkness began to fade. Wonwoo gasped.

“We need to go inside,” he said quickly, breaking the moment.

He rushed to open the door, pushing it with trembling hands. They both went in, leaving the sunrise behind. Wonwoo didn’t waste a second before running to his room to put something on, his heart pounding hard in his chest.

Mingyu followed with heavy steps, his body still feeling strange after everything that had happened. Though he was exhausted, he had no desire to wear one of those dark, elegant suits Wonwoo usually wore. They didn’t suit him—they never had. But he didn’t have any clothes of his own here either. His skin was still exposed to the cold air seeping through the house, and the trembling in his body wasn’t just from the temperature—it was from the confusion eating away at his mind.

Noticing his discomfort, Wonwoo rummaged through his closet until he found something familiar: an old, thick, slightly worn blanket—the same one Mingyu had once used to nap there. Without hesitation, he handed it to him. Mingyu took it in his hands, feeling a strange warmth bloom in his chest. The blanket smelled a little like him, but mostly like Wonwoo.

“I feel like... my life changed somehow, but...” he murmured with a long, heavy sigh. His words hung in the air, unfinished. The truth was, he didn’t understand anything that was happening. But something inside him—something raw and primal—told him he needed to stay with Wonwoo, that his place was by his side.

But... what about his family? What was he supposed to do now? Would he have to face his father after what happened? What did all of this mean? He could barely remember how he had even made it to Wonwoo’s apartment that night in his wolf form—just blurry flashes of his father’s furious face, the burning sense of danger in his chest... and then, the pain of the bite.

“Mingyu...” Wonwoo’s voice trembled, heavy with a feeling Mingyu hadn’t noticed before. When he looked at him, he saw his dark eyes glistening—were those tears?

Wonwoo swallowed hard, his chest tightening. The truth was, he had no idea what Mingyu wanted. Maybe... he didn’t want to spend eternity with him. Maybe he’d condemned him to something he never asked for. He didn’t even fully understand what he had done himself. Only minutes ago, he had learned that the werewolf who had burst into his apartment was none other than Mingyu’s father. Everything was spiraling out of control.

“Maybe... I should’ve asked you, maybe we should’ve planned something, but... I just felt in danger at that moment.”

Tears he had never shed before began to slip down his cheeks before he could stop them. He had never thought a vampire could cry, but there he was, throat tight and soul laid bare in front of Mingyu. Maybe it had all been a mistake—but at the same time, it felt like a miracle.

“Mingyu, I love you...” The confession slipped from his lips without resistance. And in that instant, he knew he had never been so vulnerable, never felt his heart beat that way before. Maybe... maybe turning Mingyu into an abomination hadn’t just been to protect himself. Maybe, deep down, he had wanted Mingyu to stay with him forever.

Mingyu watched him in silence, his mind still caught in a storm of thoughts. There were so many things he didn’t understand, so many unanswered questions, but… Wonwoo loved him. And maybe that was enough to give him the strength he needed. Without hesitation, he pulled the vampire into his arms.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

Seungcheol realized he had made an irreparable mistake only a few days later. At first, his pride refused to let him admit it, but the feeling that something was slipping out of his hands grew stronger with every passing hour.

For a brief moment, he had hesitated—unsure if he should intervene at all. But curiosity and resentment proved stronger. He took the risk of spying on Mingyu, following him quietly when he saw him heading toward Wonwoo’s house, watching from the shadows as the vampire climbed into the werewolf’s car. Something in Seungcheol’s chest twisted with disgust and anger at the sight of their closeness. It was sickening.

He followed them back to Mingyu’s apartment, keeping to the dark corners with patient precision. At first, he thought they would only stay there for a couple of hours—that there was nothing to worry about. But as the night grew deeper and the faint glow from the apartment windows flickered without much movement inside, he knew he had been wrong.

He waited. His thoughts tangled into theories, suspicions, and the boiling hatred that pumped through his veins. When impatience finally consumed him—when the certainty that his friend had crossed an unforgivable line hit him—he knew exactly what he had to do.

Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number.

“Doctor Shikmin…” His voice dripped with venom, heavy with the satisfaction of someone about to unleash chaos. “You should really keep a closer eye on your precious son. Right now, he’s probably in bed with a stupid vampire.”

The silence on the other end was short-lived. Seungcheol didn’t wait for an answer. A cold laugh escaped him before he hung up.

He knew his message would wreak havoc. He knew enough about the doctor—his principles, his rigid sense of morality, his deep-rooted hatred for vampires—to picture the fury and panic twisting his face as those words sank in.

And just as he expected, the fear took hold immediately. From his hidden spot, Seungcheol could see the doctor’s office lights flare to life, see the man moving hastily inside, reaching for his phone and dialing over and over again. Seven calls. Seven frantic attempts to reach Mingyu, all unanswered. By the eighth, Seungcheol already knew what was coming.

Doctor Shikmin wouldn’t wait any longer. He stormed out of his office, his footsteps sharp and deliberate, his lips pressed into a thin, dangerous line. Seungcheol watched him disappear into the night toward his son’s apartment. He couldn’t follow without being seen—but he didn’t need to. He could imagine every detail of what would happen next.

He knew the doctor would find the telltale traces of a night together: glasses left crooked on the table, clothes scattered carelessly across the floor, the faint lingering scent of a stranger in his territory. And he knew the doctor would notice it instantly. The stench of a vampire was unmistakable to someone like him. Then instinct would take over. Rage would follow. And there would be no mercy left in him. 

Before reason could stop him, Doctor Shikmin let his nature take over. His skin burned, his spine cracked and stretched in a violent burst of transformation. His body lengthened, muscles tearing and reforming, his skin swallowed by a thick coat of fur while his eyes ignited with a murderous gleam. He was no longer a man. He was a predator. He stormed into the room with one clear intent—to hunt. His silver fangs were ready to tear through flesh, to rip the life out of the creature that had dared to lay a hand on his son.

But nothing—nothing—could have prepared him for what he saw. Mingyu, his own son, was naked on the bed. And he wasn’t alone. The vampire was there with him. For a moment, the world stopped. It couldn’t be. But reality hit him with the force of a blow to the chest. And then, he saw it.

He saw Mingyu change. He saw his son’s body convulse, his bones crack and twist, his skin contort into something that should never have existed. He saw the wild gleam take over his eyes—the shadow of the abomination he had become.

The doctor’s breath hitched, rage and horror clashing violently in his chest. The air felt heavy, thick with the smell of blood and fear. His claws trembled, but not from hesitation—from the unbearable weight of knowing what he had unleashed.

It was over. In that instant, Doctor Shikmin understood there was no turning back. Everything he’d tried to protect, everything he’d believed in, had shattered before his eyes. His son was gone. And the monster staring back at him wasn’t just the vampire’s creation—it was his own failure made flesh.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

Wonwoo needed blood to live. And Mingyu had to provide it. That was what his brain repeated over and over, an instinct carved deep into him since the moment he changed. It wasn’t just a passing thought or a moral obligation—it was an unshakable certainty, as vital and natural as the need to breathe.

So Mingyu had to do something. The problem was how. His father had shown up at his apartment without warning that night, unleashing chaos. How had he found him? How had he known Mingyu was with Wonwoo? He still had no answers.

But now, none of that mattered. His priority was different. He didn’t have Seungcheol’s phone number to confront him, but he had something better—Wonwoo’s phone. With it, he managed to order clothes so he wouldn’t draw attention, and even booked an Uber to visit his father at the hospital.

Wonwoo was restless, his dark eyes fixed on him as the order went through. “Maybe you shouldn’t go…” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes gleamed with a mix of worry and genuine fear. He didn’t want to lose him.

Mingyu shook his head. “I have to get you more blood, Won. And the only way to do that is by talking to my father—I’ll need access to the hospital’s reserves.”

Wonwoo couldn’t reply right away. He knew Mingyu was right, but fear lingered in his throat. The last encounter had been chaotic. Still, before he could protest again, Mingyu leaned forward and kissed him.

It was a slow, deliberate kiss—steady, reassuring. A silent promise that he would come back. Wonwoo closed his eyes and pressed back against him, holding on as if the moment could stretch forever. But time didn’t stop. And Mingyu had to leave.

The Uber ride felt endless. Mingyu stared out the window, his hands tense on his thighs, his jaw clenched tight. He tried to breathe steadily, to calm the pounding of his heart. He had no idea how his father would react when he saw him. Maybe he’d throw him out immediately. Maybe he’d try to kill him again. Or maybe—just maybe—there’d be the smallest chance to make him listen.

When the car stopped in front of the hospital, Mingyu exhaled slowly and forced his shoulders to relax. He couldn’t afford to look nervous. He walked down the hallways with measured confidence, greeting nurses and doctors he recognized. None of them seemed to notice anything strange about him. At least not yet.

Before heading straight to his father’s office, he made a calculated stop at the blood bank. If things went wrong, at least he wouldn’t leave empty-handed.

He slipped quietly between the storage racks, scanning the labels for bags marked as “to be discarded.” It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing. He gathered several, carefully sliding them into the backpack slung over his shoulder. The faint metallic scent of blood filled the air, and for a brief moment, his throat burned with hunger—but he pushed it down.

Once he was sure he had enough, he made his way up to his father’s office. His heart hammered violently in his chest by the time he reached the door. The assistant looked up from her desk and smiled at him.

“Mr. Mingyu—what a surprise to see you here.”

That alone told him his father hadn’t said a word about what had happened. Of course he hadn’t. Dr. Shikmin’s pride would never allow anyone to know that his only son had turned into something he loathed—something he was sworn to destroy.

Mingyu gave the assistant a polite nod, murmured a quick thanks, and gently knocked on the office door before stepping inside. The atmosphere hit him instantly—thick, cold, heavy. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and paper, the sterile scent of hospitals mixed with something metallic that made his stomach turn.

His father sat behind the broad mahogany desk, the afternoon light cutting across his face through the blinds. He didn’t say a word, just looked up from a stack of documents, eyes sharp and unreadable. The silence between them stretched, tense and suffocating. Those eyes scanned Mingyu slowly from head to toe, assessing him like a specimen, like a thing that might still be human—or might not.

There was a sling around his father’s right arm. Mingyu felt a sharp sting of guilt twist in his chest. He’d done that. During their last confrontation—no, their last fight—he had lost control.

Dr. Shikmin’s jaw tightened, muscles twitching as he finally spoke. “Mingyu.”

Just his name, but it hit with the weight of a verdict. The tone was cold, heavy with restrained anger, disappointment, and something else that hurt even more—disgust.

Mingyu swallowed hard, his throat dry. He couldn’t back out now. “Father… First of all, I apologize.”

He bent forward slightly in a respectful bow, the kind his father had drilled into him since childhood—discipline, humility, tradition. But when he straightened, his eyes met his father’s without flinching. They were steady, burning with something that wasn’t fear this time.

“Now…” he said quietly, drawing in a deep breath. “I want to make a deal.”

Chapter Text

In Sweden, the days were as brief as a winter sigh, and the nights stretched on endlessly, wrapping the world in a heavy, dark veil. Shadows seemed to swallow every corner of the landscape, turning it into the perfect refuge for those who despised the light. If anyone had asked Mingyu, he would’ve said without a doubt that it was the ideal paradise for vampires. And that was exactly why he decided to request a transfer to that distant European country—cold and secretive, just like the truths he kept.

His father had flown into a rage when he found out. Mr. Kim—the heir of the legendary Kim who had practically eradicated vampires in Korea—could not afford the humiliation of revealing that his only son was in a romantic relationship with a creature of the night. It wouldn’t just be a scandal; it would be an indelible stain on a history written in blood and pride.

“You’ve completely lost your mind,” the doctor had said, his voice firm but edged with a worry he tried to hide. Still, he agreed to the deal. It was better to send Mingyu away, to turn him into some kind of martyr or hero, than to see him stay in Korea and drag through the mud the family name they had defended with tooth and nail for over a century.

And Mingyu didn’t argue—didn’t deny a thing. He knew he was crazy; he accepted it without shame… but crazy in love with Wonwoo. He loved him with wild, unrestrained passion. He adored him, craved him, wanted to spend every second by his side. He couldn’t think of anything else but kissing him, holding him, sleeping beside him… though, of course, Wonwoo preferred to sleep during the day, loyal to his vampiric nature.

Dr. Kim took care of the arrangements. He provided the couple with a private jet—it was unthinkable to risk Wonwoo on a commercial flight, even in first class. So Wonu, with a heavy heart, had to say goodbye to his ancestral home—a mansion as old as he was, heavy with memories that seemed to breathe sighs from the past.

“Can’t we take my coffin, at least?” the vampire asked, his voice tinged with nostalgia that made Mingyu’s chest tighten.

“Didn’t you say you preferred sleeping in bed with me?” he replied, trying to downplay the drama and soften the sadness of their farewell.

“Uh… Of course I did, but… but I’ll miss my coffin. It’s been with me for moren than a hundred years,” Wonu confessed, brushing his fingers along the inside of it. The velvet still felt soft, as if it knew this was the last time.

“I’ll get you another one in Sweden, okay, baby?” Mingyu promised, wrapping his arms gently around Wonu’s waist.

They had to get ready. Their flight would leave in a couple of nights, but there was still one thing Mingyu couldn’t ignore—Seungcheol. Maybe ever since Wonwoo appeared, his friend had been pushed to the background, but Gyu still felt a responsibility toward him—a bond that couldn’t be easily broken. So he decided to visit him. That night, he drove to Cheol’s hideout without a clear plan in mind, trusting that, as always, two heads together could figure out any problem.

But when he arrived at the old, rundown building where Seungcheol was staying, he was met with a silence far too thick, too unsettling. Everything was completely deserted. He went in through the back door, which, to his surprise, wasn’t locked. Strange—Cheol never forgot to lock it.

Mingyu moved cautiously, lighting his way with the small flashlight he kept in his coat. The place was empty—no sign of his friend, not even of his belongings. The rooms looked as if they’d been abandoned in a rush, without goodbyes. Alarmed, the werewolf hurried back outside and, once safe in his car, pulled out his phone with trembling hands and dialed Seungcheol’s number.

“The number you’ve dialed is not available or is outside the service area. Please try again later.”

The automated voice sounded mechanical, distant—a hollow echo mocking his worry. Mingyu slowly lowered the phone, staring at the blank screen with a mix of frustration and dread. He couldn’t lie to himself: he was scared. The silence was too complete, and inside him, a gnawing unease began to take hold, twisting in his gut. He feared for Seungcheol’s life… but also for Jeong and Han. All three seemed to have vanished without leaving a single trace.

Where could they have gone? Had someone found them? Had someone taken them?

Every possibility that crossed his mind was darker than the last. And the worst part was—he couldn’t rule out any of them. Deep down, something in his wild instincts, that primal part of him that had always protected him, whispered that this wasn’t just a hasty move or a voluntary disappearance. It was something else… something that smelled of betrayal and fear.

Mingyu felt a stab of guilt pierce through his chest. He had wanted to believe that by keeping his distance from Cheol and the others, he was protecting them from the dangers of his new life with Wonwoo. That by maintaining a safe distance—cutting some ties—he was keeping them out of harm’s way. But maybe, in doing so, he had created the perfect void for something to slip into their lives without him noticing. Or worse—for them not to want him to notice. Maybe they no longer trusted him. Maybe one of them, someone with resentment burning in their eyes, had chosen silence as punishment.

He tried calling Seungcheol’s number again and again, as if repeating the act with enough desperation could somehow break the curse of absence. But there was never an answer. The line remained dead—silent, like the building he had just left behind. Seungcheol, Jeong, and Han had truly disappeared. And the most terrifying part was that Mingyu no longer had the time to go looking for them.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

As soon as the sun disappeared and the city sank into the embrace of night, Mingyu and Wonwoo set out for the airport. The streetlights flickered on one by one as Dr. Kim’s black SUV glided silently through the streets, moving like a shadow. The driver took them straight to the private terminal where the jets departed. They had, of course, sent the necessary information in advance—though at no point was Wonwoo’s true identity revealed. Mingyu’s father handled all the bureaucratic details himself, referring to Wonu as a fragile young man in need of urgent, specialized treatment. Thanks to his connections among high-ranking government officials and his almost untouchable influence, no one dared to ask questions.

Even so, Mingyu couldn’t feel at ease. His hands were tense, his jaw clenched, and in his eyes shone a worry he couldn’t hide, no matter how hard he tried to stay calm for Wonwoo’s sake. His mind kept drifting back to Seungcheol’s disappearance. His friend was missing, and though the werewolf wanted to believe that Cheol would find help on his own, he knew the chances were slim. Getting blood wasn’t easy for someone like him.

Or maybe it was… but Mingyu couldn’t imagine that murders or disappearances could go unnoticed by the police for long. He clung to the hope that everything would turn out fine, even if the immediate future was uncertain. Cheol, Jeong, and Han were still names echoing in his head like unanswered calls.

When they boarded the plane, Wonwoo was left speechless. The interior was elegant and spacious, like something out of a luxurious dream. There were only a few seats, arranged generously apart and upholstered in dark leather. A small minibar gleamed in one corner, and the flight crew approached them with almost exaggerated kindness, assuring Wonwoo that he could ask for anything he wanted at any time during the flight.

The seats could fully recline into individual beds, something that would come in handy considering how long the trip would be. From Gimpo Airport to Stockholm, the flight would take just over thirteen hours. For Wonwoo, it felt like looking at the future through a window. He had never been on a plane before—in fact, airplanes didn’t even exist when he fell into his long sleep a century ago—so every part of the experience was new and dazzling. The technology, the design, the speed… even the subtle hum of the engines fascinated him.

Despite everything, he wasn’t afraid of flying. His unease came from something else. The sunlight worried him, of course, but deeper down, he feared that Mingyu might lose control again now that he had become an abomination. It hadn’t happened recently, but Wonwoo still remembered those few times—after the bite and their escape from Gyu’s father—when Mingyu couldn’t control his new nature. Those moments had been terrifying.

One of the hardest times had been when Mingyu, desperate to find a way to stay with Wonwoo without being discovered by his family—aside from his father, the only one who knew—had an emotional breakdown. That night, his monstrous form had surfaced uncontrollably, all violence and primal instinct. Wonu had been there to see it—but he was also the one who managed to calm him, with a soft voice and steady presence, until Mingyu returned to his human self.

Now, though, things were beginning to fall into place. During the flight, the windows remained sealed, protected from sunlight to keep Wonwoo safe. Mingyu had been meticulous about every detail: he’d brought a carefully packed and sealed supply of blood for the journey. Wonu locked himself in the bathroom to drink it discreetly, avoiding exposure or suspicion.

Mingyu also ordered strawberries for his vampire, knowing that small indulgence always made him smile. He didn’t stop caring for him—not for a second—always attentive, always watchful, until at last the plane descended over the Swedish capital.

It was dawn when they arrived in Stockholm. The sky stretched in shades of bluish gray, softened by the glow of streetlights that reflected on cobbled streets and the pointed rooftops of old buildings. The city’s architecture—gothic and neoclassical—looked like something out of a melancholy fairytale. A few canals ran quietly between stone blocks, their waters shimmering under the moon. Streetlights cast golden reflections over softly colored façades.

It was a city alive even in its stillness—a city that had watched centuries go by and now welcomed them as if it already knew who they were. But they wouldn’t be staying there.

Wonwoo and Mingyu wouldn’t remain in Stockholm. Wonu needed somewhere more private, more discreet. Gyu agreed completely. Their final destination was a small village outside the capital, surrounded by forest, fog, and silence—a place seemingly forgotten by the noise of the modern world, but perfect for them.

Mingyu would begin working at a local health center. It wasn’t a busy place, but it stored large blood reserves thanks to its proximity to a main hospital that offered dialysis treatments. In fact, the clinic functioned almost like an emergency blood bank. It was the ideal opportunity: they needed qualified staff, and Mingyu—with his experience as a doctor—fit perfectly.

Besides, his knowledge of handling and “disposing” of biological materials gave him a certain advantage. He knew how to move carefully, without drawing attention, without abusing the system. He would no longer be feeding a whole community of vampires—only one. And for that one, he was willing to be as meticulous as necessary.

Wonwoo, meanwhile, could finally breathe a little easier. Truth be told, Mingyu’s father scared him far more than leaving home ever did. He hoped there wouldn’t be any werewolves in that new place. But even if there were, they’d be able to smell Mingyu—and they’d know what he was. An abomination. Something unstoppable to them. And if anyone dared attack him, they’d pay the price.

The dark sky stretched out before them as they rode in a van from the airport to what would become their new home. The driver took narrow, secluded roads while the sky stayed hidden under a thick layer of gray clouds. The vehicle’s headlights cut through the darkness like a warm spear, and through the windows they could see the trees, the hills, and small scattered houses, lonely beneath the Nordic sky. Hand in hand, they traveled through unfamiliar streets—new ones. But as long as they were together, the future was bound to be good for them both.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

The new house that Wonwoo and Mingyu moved into upon arriving in Sweden was everything they needed—and a little more. Simple, cozy, and surrounded by a deep, almost sacred silence that could only be found in places truly far from the noise of the city.

It sat on the outskirts of Stockholm, in a semi-rural residential area surrounded by tall trees, narrow dirt roads, and crisp air that felt cold in the lungs but strangely comforting. There were no nearby neighbors; the property was completely secluded, offering the privacy they both longed for. The one-story house was painted in warm, soft tones, with a modern structure covered in light wood that contrasted beautifully with the darkness of the Scandinavian night.

From there, Mingyu was just twenty minutes away by car from the health center where he would be working. The house had everything essential: a functional kitchen with modern appliances, a dining room, a small but cozy living area, a spacious master bedroom, a bathroom, a garage, a small storage shed out back, and another room they hadn’t yet decided whether to use for storage or something else. The place was already fully furnished, decorated in a simple but elegant style—nothing extravagant, but full of thoughtful details.

Mingyu couldn’t help but feel grateful for it all. His father had made sure the transition went as smoothly as possible, and though their relationship remained complicated, that unexpected generosity made him reflect. Maybe, after all, Mr. Kim understood the depth of his son’s love. Maybe, in his own way, he was trying to show support—to offer a quiet gesture of acceptance for a love he had once deemed impossible.

The moment they stepped inside, with dawn still cloaking the world in shadows, Wonwoo began exploring every corner of the house with childlike curiosity. Each step left a faint trace on the wooden floor. Everything was new to him—from the appliances to the light switches, from the faint hum of the refrigerator to the way the television, a sleek black rectangle hanging on the wall, dominated part of the living room. He looked around in quiet wonder, as if walking through a museum from the future.

“I’m going to have to learn how to use all of this…” he murmured, sighing softly as he turned to face Mingyu.

The werewolf watched him with tender eyes, a warm smile tugging at his lips. He stepped closer, resting his hand gently against Wonwoo’s pale cheek. “You’ll do great, baby. You’ll learn fast,” he said softly—as he always did—as if his words alone could chase away any insecurity.

Wonwoo glanced around again, his gaze thoughtful until something caught his attention. “The house is dark… There aren’t any windows,” he noted, his tone contemplative—then a small spark of hope lit up his expression. “That means I can adjust my schedule and sleep at night, so I can be awake during the day when you’re home.”

It was a quiet promise, a small wish that might have meant little to anyone else—but to them, it was something precious: the possibility of sharing the same hours, the same rhythm. Not being separated by day and night anymore.

Mingyu nodded, fully understanding the emotion behind those words.

“If that’s what you want, then it’s perfect, my love,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along Wonwoo’s cheek. And in that moment, the vampire couldn’t resist leaning in, closing the distance between them with a kiss that sealed everything he felt.

The touch was soft, warm, overflowing with infinite tenderness. Mingyu’s body—strong and warm—fit perfectly against his, as if they’d been made for one another. The kiss was slow but deep, and every brush of their lips seemed to erase fear, stress, and the weight of the past. Finally, after so many uncertain nights, everything was calm. Wonwoo felt like the world had finally stopped—just for them.

Mingyu’s arms wrapped around him with devotion, deepening the kiss. Wonwoo let out a quiet sigh, and that tiny sound was all the invitation Mingyu needed for his tongue to explore, stealing soft, trembling moans that slipped out before Wonwoo could stop them. For a moment, nothing else existed—just that perfect instant: the touch, the warmth, the certainty that now, everything was exactly where it should be. In that magic-filled air, beneath the Nordic night, a new chapter began for them—peaceful, safe, and full of love. Finally together. Finally, without fear.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

On Monday, Mingyu officially started his first day at the health center. It was a bit of a strange experience at first, since most of the locals only spoke Swedish—something Mingyu probably should’ve seen coming before he got there. Luckily, one of the nurses spoke English. Even though it wasn’t Gyu’s native language, it was still much easier for him to communicate that way, and whenever something came up that he didn’t understand, he could quickly sort it out using an online translator.

“I guess I’m gonna have to start taking Swedish classes,” Mingyu told Olavi, the nurse who, besides doing his own work, had become his unofficial interpreter.

“Of course, Doctor Mingyu… Though I have to admit, it’s a pleasure working with you. Besides, the health center’s not exactly hectic—mostly routine check-ups, and we’ve got more than enough staff,” Olavi explained with an easy smile. Mingyu nodded and smiled back, relieved and genuinely fond of the man.

The shift passed without a hitch. Everything seemed to run smoothly—no emergencies, no difficult situations. Most of the cases were common colds, mild infections, or general check-ups. Nothing out of the ordinary, which made for a good start in Gyu’s new workplace.

Before leaving, as part of his routine, Mingyu went to check the biological waste. He didn’t forget to grab a bag that, while not expired yet, was getting close. He picked it out carefully, knowing it would come in handy for Wonwoo. Just thinking about seeing him again made his stomach flutter with a warm, nervous excitement—like a cloud of butterflies suddenly bursting to life.

They’d both arrived in Sweden early Friday morning. That first night, they’d fallen asleep together, tangled up in exhaustion. Over the weekend, Mingyu had taken the time to show Wonwoo how to use all the house appliances—from the washing machine to the microwave. He even showed him how to work Netflix and other streaming apps so he could watch things in Korean, since local TV was entirely in Swedish.

Maybe the jet lag helped Wonwoo adjust quickly to the new time zone and get proper sleep at night. Even so, the vampire was anxious for a very different reason—a constant fear that sunlight might somehow slip into the house through a crack or gap. He dreaded sunlight; it was one of the two things that could kill him. Fortunately, Mingyu had been meticulous when inspecting the house. He made sure it was completely sealed, no leaks, no slivers of daylight. The place was designed just like Wonwoo’s home back in his homeland—a true refuge, where the sun could never reach.

When his shift finally ended, Mingyu hurried back. The twenty-minute drive felt like a slow, agonizing torture; every traffic light, every turn in the road stretched his impatience thinner. His heart was pounding, his chest tight with anticipation—he couldn’t wait to see Wonwoo, to hold him, kiss him, lose himself in the safety of his presence.

When he reached their small new home, he parked quickly and rushed to the door. The sun hadn’t fully set yet, but the trees surrounding the property blocked most of the light, casting a protective shade. The werewolf opened the door just enough to slip inside without letting any sunlight in. Thankfully, Wonu wasn’t standing in the entryway.

As he stepped through the hall, he found him in the bedroom. The vampire was watching a horror movie, completely relaxed. He didn’t look scared; in fact, his eyes lit up the second he saw Mingyu.

“You’re home!” he exclaimed with a bright smile, sitting up on the bed.

“Yeah, I’m here… How are you? Everything okay?” Mingyu asked, sitting down beside him, unable to take his eyes off him. Wonwoo shook his head softly, his pout so adorably dramatic that Gyu felt his heart melt all over again.

“No, it’s just… watching all these horror movies, all that blood—it only makes me hungrier,” he said quietly. As the words left his lips, his pout faded, replaced by a sly grin that revealed his fangs.

Mingyu smiled tenderly, then leaned to the side to rummage through his small work bag. His fingers searched quickly, carefully, until he found what he was looking for. With a teasing, affectionate expression, he pulled it out and held it up for Wonwoo to see.

“I brought something for you, love,” he murmured softly, almost in a whisper, showing him the blood pack he’d brought just for him.

Wonwoo no longer felt the need to hide when he drank blood. He’d left behind that restraint, that polite discretion that used to hold him back. Without hesitation, he took the bag straight from Mingyu’s hands and, instead of grabbing scissors or trying to open it neatly, sank his fangs right through the plastic. The soft tearing sound was barely audible—a whisper compared to the low moan that escaped his throat as the thick, metallic taste of blood flowed down.

That sound—heavy with pleasure—made Mingyu shiver. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t affect him. That moan sent a wild pulse through him, a visceral jolt that made him forget to breathe for a second. His body reacted before his mind could, and by the time Wonwoo finished draining the bag, still licking the last drops from the torn edge, Mingyu was already leaning toward him—driven by a hunger he couldn’t and wouldn’t control.

He kissed him with barely restrained desire—not like before, when tenderness guided him, but deeper, rougher, urgent. His tongue slipped past Wonwoo’s lips, tasting the metallic trace of blood still lingering there. It didn’t put him off; it only burned hotter inside him. The heat in his chest sank lower, his heartbeat growing wild, feral—and he knew. It was happening again.

The beast within him—that violent, untamed force he could barely contain—was rising to the surface. But he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to. His hands, now larger, fingers stretching into faintly clawed shapes, slid across the vampire’s body with a mix of hunger and fierce affection. Every movement was impatient, every touch burning with raw need. He stripped him without hesitation, tearing at buttons, pulling away fabric.

Wonwoo pulled back just slightly, lips parted, chest heaving. His eyes searched Mingyu’s face—and found not the man he loved, but the beast he feared and adored. The man before him was now a monster, breathing hard, muscles tight, his gaze shadowed with savage intensity.

For a few seconds, the vampire couldn’t breathe. His body trembled—not from the cold, but from an instinctive jolt of alertness. He was nervous. He knew that even in his werewolf form, Mingyu could kill him if he lost control… but in this form, the abomination, there was no doubt—he could tear him apart without even trying.

But Mingyu was too consumed, too hungry, as if the sight of his lover’s bare body had awakened a craving that only flesh could satisfy. He growled—a guttural sound that rose from deep in his chest, his lips dove toward Wonwoo’s neck, pressing hard against his pale skin, barely kissing the collarbones as if tasting them gave him life. Then, without pause, he moved lower down his torso.

Gyu didn’t wait. There was no patience left in his transformed body, no intention to hold back. He positioned himself between Wonwoo’s legs, kneeling in a motion that might’ve looked reverent—if not for the wild fire in his eyes. With a strong, fluid movement, he lifted Wonwoo’s legs, exposing his ass completely, without shame. The cold air brushed against that open space, but it was Mingyu’s hot breath that made Wonwoo truly shiver. His pulse raced in his chest, in his stomach—and yet the arousal was stronger. What turned him on the most, what had him trembling on the edge of begging, was seeing Mingyu take control with that feral intensity.

Mingyu’s hands were huge, made for grabbing, for claiming, and every time they touched Wonwoo’s skin they left behind a trail of new sensations—a wet, burning heat spreading from every point of contact. His breath, hot and heavy with desire, hit between the vampire’s thighs, triggering an involuntary spasm in his muscles. Gyu’s cock was already rock-hard, thick, pulsing, with veins standing out and a bead of wetness glistening at the tip, sliding down shamelessly. He was ready. Not just ready—desperate to consume, to surrender completely to the monster inside him.

Even his tongue—now longer, thicker, monstrous in that form—pulled a smug grin from his lips as he finally let it fall carelessly between Wonwoo’s ass cheeks. The first lick was broad, slow, messy, as if savoring a dessert he didn’t intend to share. Wonwoo jolted, arching his back slightly, but what he felt wasn’t embarrassment—it was an electric shock of pleasure that tore a sharp gasp from his throat. “Hhh–aah…”

Mingyu wasn’t thinking clearly. His mind was always a battlefield in that abominable form—his faint human consciousness and his beastly nature constantly clashing… but this time, that inner struggle had surrendered. This time, both sides wanted the same thing: to please Wonwoo, to make him tremble, to make him beg.

With his tongue, he began to draw slow, hot circles around Wonwoo’s tight ring of muscle, already twitching with need. One of his hands held both legs up effortlessly, gripping behind the knees, while the other spread him open wider, fingers parting his cheeks and leaving that entrance on full display, slick with accumulating saliva. Wonwoo was lost in the heat of that tongue, in the sticky friction, in the wet sounds of each lick—and he moaned, moaned like his soul depended on it.

“Ahh—hhhn… M-Mingyu…” he whimpered, voice trembling with every breath.

That was all it took—gasoline to the fire burning in Gyu’s gaze. His tongue grew faster, rougher, and then, without warning, he pushed it in—deep, with feral force. Wonwoo cried out, the muscles inside him tensing for a heartbeat before giving way to the thick, wet intrusion. “Mmmn—ah! Hahh… y-yes…” The size of that tongue was inhuman, reaching places no mortal could. It licked him inside, circling, thrusting, twisting, then plunging again.

Wonwoo’s moans became steady, rhythmic, a trembling mantra—a prayer whispered to the devil between his thighs. “Mingyu, Mingyu… Gyu… aaah…”

The sensation was addictive. Each time that tongue slid in and out, his walls tightened, quivered. Wonwoo’s hand flew to Mingyu’s head, fingers tangling in his hair, pushing, pleading without words. He wanted more. Deeper. He wanted to be fucked by that tongue alone, destroyed by it. And Mingyu obeyed. He pushed harder, faster, his own groans vibrating against Wonwoo’s entrance, turning every movement into a double pulse of pleasure.

Mingyu’s other hand slid up without warning, wrapping fully around Wonwoo’s throbbing cock, stroking it with a slow, steady rhythm. The vampire cried out, the pleasure overwhelming him. His back arched, his chest heaved as if he couldn’t breathe.

“Nggh—Mingyu! I… I can’t—!” he gasped, trembling, feeling the orgasm building too fast.

But a small shred of lucidity remained. He didn’t want to come like this—not just from the tongue, not just from Mingyu’s hand. He wanted to come with Mingyu inside him, with his cock buried deep, tearing him apart in the best possible way. So, with a trembling hand, he pushed at the abomination’s head—a soft, pleading gesture… but Gyu didn’t move. He kept licking, kept sucking at him from the inside, as if intent on devouring him whole.

Wonwoo growled, frustrated, until desperation made him rougher. He gripped Mingyu’s hair tightly, yanking back with the raw need of someone drowning in pleasure and desperate for air.

“Mingyu… take off your clothes,” the vampire ordered, voice ragged, barely a whisper between gasps, every word thick with the desire consuming him from within. His pupils were blown wide, his body trembling, held together only by the tension winding through him from head to toe.

Mingyu didn’t answer with words. He stuck out his tongue slowly, teasingly, letting the wet muscle drag across his own lips—the gesture alone drew a shaky moan from Wonwoo, who couldn’t tear his gaze away. Then Gyu obeyed, moving with a mix of arrogance and desperate urgency. He stripped, piece by piece, each inch of exposed skin radiating heat.

His body, now fully transformed, was larger than ever—not just in size or muscle, but in presence. He was imposing, a living shadow. The shape of something that shouldn’t exist, a creature born from the darkest depths of desire, from the hidden corners of flesh. And Wonwoo… Wonwoo was mesmerized. His eyes roamed every line of that powerful body, every corded muscle drawn tight like live wire ready to snap—and his breath grew even shakier when his gaze finally landed on the monstrous erection jutting between Gyu’s legs.

A sound escaped him—deep, trembling, involuntary—somewhere between awe and fear, as if he didn’t know whether to recoil or worship. Mingyu’s cock wasn’t just big—it was a glorious aberration: thick, massive, dark, veined like living roots, pulsing with hunger, with power.

Wonwoo moved toward him without thinking, crawling across the bed slowly, his trembling hands rising as though to touch a forbidden relic. When he finally wrapped them around it, he realized one hand wasn’t enough; he needed both—and even then, he could barely encompass its girth.

He gasped long and deep, feeling the brutal heat radiating from the other’s skin—the impossible hardness, the beastly tension rippling beneath his fingers. The abomination let out a deep, gravelly laugh, a rough sound that rumbled through Gyu’s chest and seemed to vibrate all the way down into Wonwoo’s throbbing cock, which was already pulsing, aroused to the point of pain.

“Mingyu…” Wonwoo whispered, lifting his gaze, eyes caught between devotion and fear. He met that golden stare—those yellow eyes that no human could have—and yet, they looked at him as if he were the only thing that mattered in the world. “It’s not gonna fit…” he said hoarsely, swallowing hard, eyes dropping again to the massive erection before him with a mix of awe and pure, aching desire.

Mingyu growled. It wasn’t speech—it was a low, raw sound, half warning, half struggle. He didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t. But the abomination controlled every muscle, every urge. Gyu drew in a deep breath, trembling, trying to calm the monster inside him—but it wouldn’t leave. It couldn’t. Because it wanted Wonwoo too. It wanted to claim him. To fill him.

Wonwoo began to stroke that erection with both hands, sliding his fingers reverently along its length, mesmerized by the way Gyu’s body responded to every touch. The cock twitched, shuddered, pulsed under his palms as if alive—as if it recognized him. And that reaction… that living response lit him up even more, pushing him past the point of reason.

“We can try…” he murmured, barely audible—but to Mingyu, those words hit like thunder. Permission. A promise. A surrender.

The vampire let go of the erection slowly, as if it pained him to release it, and laid back on the bed—on his back, legs slightly parted, chest heaving, neck exposed, skin trembling. It was an open invitation.

Mingyu followed. He crawled over him like a storm rolling in, like a heavy tide ready to drown everything beneath it. His body loomed over Wonwoo’s, casting a vast shadow, and he kissed him immediately—no restraint, no sweetness—a fierce, consuming kiss that tasted like breath and saliva and the edge of violence. His erection brushed against Wonwoo’s entrance—swollen, slick, already sensitized.

Wonwoo shut his eyes, focusing, his body trembling beneath the other’s weight, his mind bracing for what was coming. He wanted to take it. To hold that impossible thing inside him. To be broken and remade with every thrust. He wanted to feel Mingyu come inside him—to be filled until he overflowed.

It was Wonwoo who reached for Gyu’s cock, his hand shaking but sure, guiding it down between them until the thick head pressed against his entrance. A shiver raced up his spine. He pushed slightly, trying to take it in—but the size was monstrous, and he barely managed to get the tip in.

Mingyu froze, stopped kissing him, his heavy breaths fanning over Wonwoo’s neck. He braced himself, one hand planted on each side of the vampire’s body, the other guiding himself lower. The abomination spat—a thick, gleaming line of saliva that landed on the head of his cock and slid halfway down the shaft. He spread it with his palm, coating every inch like he was preparing for some sacred, fiery ritual.

Then he brought two fingers to his mouth, sucked on them slowly, soaking them in saliva before reaching down to Wonwoo’s entrance. It wasn’t tight anymore—Mingyu’s tongue had done its work, stretching him, loosening him, readying him. His fingers slipped in easily, deliciously, pressing the relaxed muscle apart while the vampire moaned and arched beneath him.

“Nnnhhh… yeah…” he gasped, trembling, biting his lip hard, trying not to fall apart completely under the onslaught of sensation.

When Mingyu felt the moment was right—when his fingers moved smoothly inside him—he finally began to push forward. The tip entered first, just a few inches, but the impact was instant.

All the air rushed from Wonwoo’s lungs. He arched, eyes squeezing shut, mouth falling open in a soundless moan. “Oh… God… Min–Mingyu… G–God…” he panted, feeling his body open up, nerves lighting up like fire.

He jerked upward on instinct, as if his body couldn’t decide whether to resist or surrender, then fell back against the bed.

The way Mingyu was spreading him open was unlike anything. Brutal. A slow, unstoppable invasion—every inch pushing deeper, splitting him apart, claiming him from the inside out. And yet… it was exquisite.

“Mmh… Mingyu-ah…” Wonwoo moaned, eyes shining—no tears, just raw, sensory shock. He could feel it—how he was being filled, stretched, his insides burning with contact, reshaping around him.

Mingyu leaned down again. He kissed him—hungry, devoted—with his cock now fully buried inside the vampire, still not moving, letting him adjust, but making it clear: he was all the way in. Every inch.

Inside, Mingyu was gripped by a shock that felt almost unreal. He couldn’t fully understand it—how the vampire had taken his initial thrust with such carnal ease, such raw acceptance, without resistance. Confusion vibrated in his chest, begging to become words, but the form he was in wouldn’t let him speak. His throat felt sealed by inhuman fire, as though his voice had melted into pure instinct. Still, he tried to hold on—his massive hands cupping and stroking Wonwoo’s body tenderly, sliding down the line of his back, tracing his waist with near-reverent care, as if afraid that one careless touch might break him. There was no going back now. All he could offer was the hope that this primal, overwhelming invasion would transform—would melt—into insatiable pleasure.

Wonwoo kept his eyes shut, brows drawn tight as waves of sensation pulsed through his body like silent lightning. After the initial numbness faded, everything inside him woke—alive, sparking. Every inch of skin tingled, vibrating with impossible sensitivity. Even the smallest movement from Mingyu sent shivers up his spine, exploding in his abdomen. His chest rose and fell in uneven gasps as he fought to focus on the overwhelming reality—Mingyu’s body filling him completely. And he didn’t just like it… he loved it. It thrilled him, consumed him—that slow, majestic brutality of being stretched open, filled from the inside out by something hot and vast and alive.

The vampire didn’t say a single word. His silence was like a perverse song. Instead of speaking, he pressed his heel hard against Mingyu’s ass—a silent, desperate command that burned hotter than any plea. Move. And he did. Holy hell.

Mingyu started to pull out with agonizing slowness, every millimeter leaving behind a sharp, aching void. The tip dragged against Wonwoo’s insides with a scorching scrape, and just when it seemed like he’d pull out completely—he thrust back in, all at once. One deep, punishing snap of his hips that slammed Wonwoo flat against the bed. Then he leaned over him and kissed him—a wet, possessive, brutal kiss that trapped the vampire’s moans between their mouths, smothering them in a mix of hunger and tenderness.

The abomination began to move with a slow but deliberate rhythm, his hips rolling with each thrust, creating a slow, delicious sway that shattered Wonwoo’s mind. He was being pushed to his limit. His gasps tangled with soft, broken moans as pleasure built and gathered, swelling beneath his skin like a coming storm. But that fleeting tenderness didn’t last.

The beast’s growl tore out of Mingyu’s throat—a low, guttural sound that trembled through the air like a promise being fulfilled. And with that, the beast let go. The movements turned wild, rhythmic, merciless. Raw, deep thrusts that ripped cries from Wonwoo every time Mingyu’s body crashed against his. The pace and force grew uncontrollable—the urgency of a creature that needed to empty itself inside him, to mark him from within, to make him completely, irreversibly his.

Mingyu shifted slightly, and that new angle made Wonwoo scream—a sharp, electric sound that tore through his throat like lightning. It wasn’t pain. No, not at all. It was pure pleasure, so intense it left him dangling somewhere between sanity and delirium. His pupils quivered, his back arched, his mouth hung open just to let out more incoherent sounds as he lost himself in the assault of that monstrous cock filling him as if it had been made for him alone.

Mingyu’s hands found their way to Wonwoo’s chest. His fingers closed around the vampire’s hard nipples, pinching them with cruel tenderness, pulling another broken moan from him—strangled, breathless, “Aaah—M-Mingyu… ngh, please…”

Wonwoo writhed beneath him, muscles clenching and relaxing in time with every movement. He was losing control. He’d never felt like this—never been taken so brutally, so completely possessed. And the worst—or the best—part was that Mingyu just kept going, kept pushing the intensity higher. He gave no mercy.

Then that huge hand wrapped around his erection—a firm, almost calculated grip. Mingyu began to stroke him with a relentless rhythm, even as he fucked into him without pause, without pity. The combination was devastating, overwhelming; their sounds merged—Mingyu’s growls and Wonwoo’s breathless moans blending into one primal echo that filled the room with a feral rhythm. “Grrhh… haah… nghh…”

For Mingyu, seeing him like that—undone, surrendered, perfect—was enough to drive him over the edge. Wonwoo looked beautiful even in that chaos, lips parted, eyes glassy, body trembling with pleasure. Knowing he was enjoying it, that he was accepting even Mingyu’s monstrous form with that kind of devotion—it was pure ecstasy.

The bed creaked beneath them, slamming into the wall with each thrust. The springs groaned like they were about to give out. The whole room seemed wrapped in a carnal trance, a spell woven from their gasps and the wet sound of skin on skin.

Wonwoo wanted that moment to last forever. His orgasm hadn’t come yet, but the build-up—that glorious, searing build-up—was so divine, so consuming, he wished it could stretch into eternity. But the body can only take so much.

And when Mingyu’s cock hit that spot again—that secret place that completely unmade him—while his hand still stroked his erection, the world fell apart. The climax exploded inside him like a wave of molten lava. Wonwoo screamed, his body arching so hard his back left the bed. His cock throbbed violently in Mingyu’s hand, but as always, not a single drop came out. Only spasms. Only pure, trapped energy.

“Don’t… don’t stop…” he whispered, breathless, barely conscious, his heels pushing again against Mingyu’s ass, begging for more. The aftershock of orgasm still sizzled under his skin, and Mingyu wasn’t done yet.

With a few more thrusts—fast, desperate—his whole body went rigid above him, and then he came. A deep, hot flood that poured inside Wonwoo like blessed fire. His body felt it, drank it in. Mingyu’s seed wasn’t the same as before—something had changed. And when it filled him, when he felt each pulse spill deeper inside, it was like a symphony bursting open in his gut.

“Holy… Fuck!” the vampire screamed, his voice shaking, his body shuddering as another orgasm rattled through his bones. He was drinking from the inside, feeling new life run through him—that sacred, brutal bond forged in the bite, in the sharing of essence.

And maybe it was that mixture—that impossible blend of immortal and monstrous—that transformed everything. Mingyu’s cum, already potent, now seemed different, enhanced, as if the essence of the abomination had distilled into a new elixir. A thick, vibrant sap sliding into Wonwoo’s body like living nectar, not just satisfying a physical need, but touching something deeper, darker, hungrier.

As the heat began to fade, Mingyu’s erection started to soften—slow, pulsing, like a beast retreating after feeding its instinct. With it, the abomination itself began to fade too. His muscles, once bulging and overcharged, lost mass; the veins withdrew beneath his skin; his breathing grew more human. The wild gleam in his eyes slowly dimmed, until all that remained was the exhausted body of a man—spent, trembling, drenched in sweat, hollowed out from within.

He collapsed. Heavily. No grace, no strength—like a statue falling under its own weight. His body landed beside Wonwoo’s on the mattress with a long, shaky sigh, and without thinking, without asking, he wrapped his arms around the vampire’s waist, pulling him close as if he could melt into his warmth. It was a huge, heavy spooning embrace—raw, tender, desperate—wrapping the vampire with a primal need for closeness, for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, Won… I… I don’t know what happened…” he murmured, his voice barely audible, as if afraid the echo itself would scold him. His lips brushed the vampire’s shoulder with every word, his breath still uneven, but softer now—more human. He felt guilty. Defeated. Small inside everything he had just been.

But Wonwoo didn’t pull away. On the contrary—he settled deeper into the embrace, fitting his back perfectly against Mingyu’s still-warm chest, as if that position had been made just for them. His hand brushed against Mingyu’s, their fingers intertwining silently, and then he laughed—a low, uneven laugh still heavy with the haze of orgasm.

“You’re kidding, right?” he said, his voice still hoarse from the effort, each word laced with that sweet arrogance that was so distinctly his. “Sex with the abomination was the best…” His tongue slid over his lower lip as he said it, almost tasting the memory again. “Though next time, you’ve got to let me taste you with my mouth.”

Mingyu’s laugh came out short and weak, almost swallowed by exhaustion—but it was real, heartfelt. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Wonwoo, with all his proud beauty and ancient blood, not only accepted him… he wanted him. He sought him out.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

A couple of hours later, once he finally felt a bit more energized, Mingyu managed to get out of bed. He headed to the kitchen, determined to make something comforting for dinner. He decided on chicken soup with vegetables—the kind of homemade meal he loved, the kind that always made him feel at home. The warm scent of fresh herbs began to fill the air as the broth simmered slowly, steam curling gently into the room.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, wasn’t hungry—at least not for human food. He had already satisfied his appetite earlier with a bag of blood. Still, he sat at the table across from Mingyu with a small box of strawberries in hand, eating them one by one with effortless grace while watching his partner devour the steaming soup, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

After dinner, they decided to take a shower together. It was still a fairly new habit for Wonwoo. He didn’t really need it—his body didn’t sweat, didn’t give off scents, and his skin stayed flawlessly clean no matter how many days passed. But now that he shared his life with Mingyu, he wanted to take on his beloved’s daily routines, to feel closer to him in every possible way. For Mingyu, those little shared actions meant a lot, so they stepped into the shower together, letting the steam wrap around them like a warm, gentle fog.

Mingyu stood behind Wonwoo, carefully scrubbing his back with a soft sponge and almond-scented soap. His movements were slow, almost meditative, and somewhere in the quiet intimacy of the moment, a thought crossed his mind. Suddenly, he remembered they hadn’t used protection… again. And even more, he clearly remembered how he had pulled out completely clean—without a trace. Curiosity got the best of him, so trying to act casual, he began to gently run the sponge lower, down to the small of Wonwoo’s back, letting it glide toward his hips as if he were looking for something.

Feeling the touch in such a sensitive spot, Wonwoo let out a low, spontaneous laugh, his body shivering slightly.

“Why are you so clean when I…?” Mingyu asked, half amused, half genuinely puzzled.

“Well… my body absorbs it,” Wonwoo replied without the slightest hint of embarrassment, shrugging like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. He was rinsing himself off then, letting the warm water run down his pale, porcelain-like skin. Even if he didn’t need showers, he liked the feeling of water—and more than that, he enjoyed Mingyu’s company. For him, any excuse was good enough if it meant spending more time by his side.

Though they both disliked that the shower had to end, they stepped out with relaxed bodies and dewy skin. They dried off slowly, and then changed into comfortable clothes for the night. Later, Mingyu sat on the couch with both of their phones on his lap, setting them up to make sure Wonwoo could reach him without any issues. The werewolf had managed to get a couple of new SIM cards from Sweden, and now all that was left was to install them properly.

Once everything was ready, they went to the bedroom together. Lying down side by side, Wonwoo couldn’t help but feel content. Being able to sleep at night—next to Mingyu—was a luxury he hadn’t allowed himself before. Somehow, his lover had become his new internal clock, his guide.

The house was always dimly lit, adapted to the vampire’s needs, so it didn’t matter whether it was day or night outside. For Wonwoo, the real rhythm of his life was now set by Mingyu’s steady breathing, his gestures, his words, his simple existence. He closed his eyes with a soft smile on his lips.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

Mingyu’s second day at work turned out to be far more complicated than he had anticipated. Although the beginning of his shift went smoothly, just when he thought he could finally go home—mere minutes before the end of his day—an emergency call shattered the calm of the health center. A patient had just arrived, hit by a massive trailer, a man found in critical condition with multiple fractures all over his body and internal bleeding that could take his life at any moment.

As a surgeon, Mingyu’s presence during the emergency procedure was not only expected—it was essential. Chaos broke out: nurses running back and forth, doctors trying to stabilize the patient, machines beeping nonstop. The whole staff seemed caught in a sudden medical storm. Amid the commotion, Olavi approached him, pale-faced and visibly shaken by the situation. In a trembling voice, he confessed that they had never experienced anything like this before—that emergencies of this magnitude were so rare they felt like they happened “once a century.” And yet, there they were, facing one.

But Mingyu, steady and composed, didn’t let panic seep through the cracks. He put on his gown, adjusted his gloves, and dove into the surgery with the focus of someone who knew exactly what was at stake. His face remained calm, though his mind raced—analyzing, deciding, saving. The only thing he regretted was not having a single second to grab his phone and text Wonwoo. He had wanted to let him know he’d be later than the day before, but between scalpels, medical orders, and blood bags, there simply hadn’t been time.

Meanwhile, time crawled for Wonwoo. The vampire had tried to keep himself busy throughout the day, but the wait felt endless. He avoided watching horror movies with bloody scenes—something he usually enjoyed—so as not to stir his appetite. Mingyu carefully monitored how much blood he was allowed to consume, and Wonwoo didn’t want to break that unspoken agreement between them. Trying to distract himself, he turned on the TV and decided to give something he’d heard about but never dared to try: a K-drama. But after a few episodes, he realized it was way too cheesy for his taste. The emotional music, the over-the-top romantic lines, the unnecessary misunderstandings… it was all just too much. Not his thing at all.

The hours began to drop like heavy beads of anxiety. He lay on the couch, then sat up, then stood, pacing around the house. The clock on his phone kept moving forward, relentless. When it finally struck 8:00 p.m., a chill ran down his spine. He knew Mingyu’s shift ran from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m., and that the trip home took barely twenty minutes. It had already been almost two hours since he should’ve arrived. Unable to sit still, Wonwoo was overcome with a deep unease.

Mingyu, are you on your way home?

He sent the first message, expecting an immediate reply. Nothing.

Mingyu, it’s getting kind of late, isn’t it?

He typed the second, his mind starting to conjure up all kinds of scenarios.

Mingyu, if you don’t answer this message, I’ll have to go look for you.

He wrote the last one with trembling fingers. He didn’t want to sound dramatic—but he couldn’t stand the uncertainty either. If Mingyu was in danger, he had to do something. It was already nighttime, which meant he could go out without worrying about the sun. So he changed clothes, picking out an all-black outfit: a jacket, fitted pants, and quiet boots. He wanted to blend into the darkness, to move unseen if necessary.

He approached the door, ready to head out, phone still in hand—when a strange noise came from the garage, making him tense up. At the same time, his phone buzzed with a new message. He unlocked it and read the words that made his heart ease slightly:

On my way, baby, sorry… There was a REAL emergency patient.

Wonwoo exhaled in relief, but the noise in the garage didn’t stop. Something—or someone—had entered his territory. The vampire’s instincts flared immediately. If it was a human, he could handle it. But if it was a werewolf…

Still holding the phone, he moved cautiously toward the inner door that connected the kitchen to the garage. His heart didn’t beat like a human’s, but he could feel an electric tension running through his body.

He opened the door slowly—but he didn’t even need to peek to know what was happening. That scent hit him like an icy slap—thick, unmistakable.

Mingyu, hurry up… a vampire just came in through the garage.

Chapter Text

Mingyu slammed his foot on the gas but kept both hands steady on the wheel, focused on every curve of the road. Even though anxiety was eating away at his chest, he couldn’t afford a single mistake. The sky was gray, threatening rain, and the wind carried dry leaves that swirled past the windshield like omens. What was a vampire doing in his garage? The question tormented him as the engine’s roar filled the silence of his thoughts.

He didn’t think Wonwoo was in danger—at least not right away. A vampire biting another vampire wasn’t necessarily fatal, or so he believed. But what did he really know about the limits of that species? The thought that something could have happened to his Wonu clenched his heart like an invisible fist. Still, he hesitated to act violently. He had his silver fangs sharpened, of course, but he’d only use them if Won asked him to. He had no intention of killing someone of the same kind as his beloved—it would feel like desecration, something sacred and far too intimate to defile.

Meanwhile, in the damp silence of the garage, Wonwoo opened the door cautiously. The air inside was thick and stale, carrying a scent he recognized instantly: weak blood, faded and withered—vampiric essence barely holding together. This time, he didn’t feel fear. Not when his senses told him the intruder was on the brink of collapse. He moved forward quietly and steadily, following the scent, until he finally saw him.

There, huddled against one of the walls, was a young vampire. He looked almost like a teenager, though with vampires it was impossible to tell their true age. Smaller than Wonwoo, frail to the point of sickness, his modern clothes hung off his thin body like they belonged to someone else. He was breathing in shallow, uneven gasps, and when he noticed Wonwoo’s presence, he slowly lifted his face.

His lips were cracked and dry, his eyes sunken, his skin stretched tight over his cheekbones. His face wasn’t the elegant marble-white of a healthy vampire, but rather the faded pallor of aged paper. Wonwoo froze when he noticed something else—he was Korean. His bone structure, even his aura felt strangely familiar, as if they shared some distant origin.

“Help me… You’re a vampire too…” the boy whispered hoarsely, his voice little more than a breath scraping through the still air.

“I don’t have any blood here, I can’t help you…” Wonwoo replied softly but truthfully. He looked at him with unease; if Mingyu hadn’t left any reserves at home, there was nothing to give him. He couldn’t feed him with anything but words, and those wouldn’t be enough.

The young vampire coughed violently and, too weak to stand, collapsed in front of him like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Wonwoo took a step back, stricken, seeing himself reflected in that abandoned figure. Would that have been him if Mingyu hadn’t saved him? He remembered the first time he saw the modern world, how lost he’d felt. Without Gyu, he probably never would have adapted—or survived. He might’ve ended up just like this boy.

He knelt beside him. The boy’s skin was so cold it felt like wet stone, but his essence was still there, faint but present. He was alive—barely. Wonwoo’s stomach tightened. He couldn’t force Mingyu to get involved in this. The guy wasn’t invited in; they didn’t even know who he was. What if he was dangerous? What if this was part of something darker?

Then the garage door opened with a metallic crash, and the headlights of Mingyu’s car flooded the room with white light. Wonwoo squinted, shielding his eyes with one hand as he heard hurried footsteps—the firm sound of boots against concrete.

“Won, are you okay?” Mingyu asked urgently, stopping beside him as his gaze fell on the collapsed figure at their feet.

Wonu nodded slowly, still a little shaken. He swallowed hard before speaking. “Yeah, I’m okay… He came here asking for help…” he said quietly, glancing up at Mingyu. “He must be younger than me…”

“Do you want me to help him?” Gyu asked seriously, uncertain but willing. His eyes stayed locked on Wonwoo’s, waiting for the word that would tell him what to do.

“Well… He’ll need blood, and I’m not sure if you—”

“I have some. In the car.” Mingyu cut in quickly, his voice firm and decisive. He stood at once, moving briskly toward the vehicle. He popped open the trunk and pulled out his work bag, where a sealed blood pack was stored.

“Let’s take him inside,” said Wonwoo, already standing beside the unconscious vampire. Without a word, Mingyu bent down and lifted the boy carefully. He was so light he barely seemed real—just a bundle of bones wrapped in skin. The werewolf held him gently, afraid he might break, and carried him to the small living room sofa.

With the blood pack in hand, Wonwoo approached cautiously. He tore open the seal with his fangs just barely showing—an instinctive reflex of hunger, though he wasn’t starving. He’d been well-fed lately; Mingyu’s presence in his life had brought order, discipline… and enough nourishment. He forced himself to stay calm as he brought the blood pack close to the young vampire’s face.

First, he let the scent reach him. The motionless body stirred slightly. His eyelids fluttered. Then he opened his eyes—dark, hollow, lifeless. There was no spark in them, just an abyss reflected in the dim light of the room. With effort, he lifted a thin, trembling hand—like a brittle twig about to snap—and in a moment of desperation, snatched the pack from Wonwoo’s grasp.

He drank greedily. The blood slid down his throat like sacred fire, reviving him from within. His breathing was still ragged, but with each swallow his chest rose a little higher, his cheeks regained color, his skin softened. Within seconds, his face changed—the sharp bones no longer cut through his skin, and his lips healed. Even his dull hair began to regain a faint shine.

Wonwoo and Mingyu watched, transfixed by the transformation. There was something almost holy about it. When the boy’s features finally settled, it was easier to see him clearly. There was no doubt—he was Korean. His eyes, his face, even the way his lids blinked—it was all too familiar.

Mingyu hesitated for a moment, but Wonwoo’s curiosity outweighed his fear. “How did you find us?” he asked quietly, once the boy seemed more present—dragged back to the shore of existence by the blood.

The young vampire wiped his mouth clumsily with the torn sleeve of his jacket before looking up. “Your scent,” he rasped in clear, unmistakable Korean that left them both stunned. “I escaped and made it to the woods. I could still smell you—while I had enough life left… and I found you. I’m sorry… It’s just that…”

“Where did you escape from?” Mingyu asked then, his tone tense but not hostile.

The young vampire shuddered, as if the question tore open a wound that hadn’t yet healed. He closed his eyes, drew a slow breath, and then sniffed the air—only now realizing something else.

“Y-You’re a…” he stammered, eyes flying open in shock and alarm. He sat up abruptly, like he was about to flee—but froze the moment he met Wonwoo’s gaze.

“He won’t hurt you,” Wonu promised, his voice calm in a way that left no room for doubt. The young vampire gave a faint nod, barely perceptible, as if his body still wasn’t fully obeying him.

“Now, what’s your name? And where did you escape from?” Wonwoo pressed, his tone firmer this time. They needed answers.

“M-My name’s Sunoo… Uh…” He swallowed hard, uncertain, his gaze drifting instinctively toward Mingyu. “My parents sent me here on a ship a long time ago… I don’t know how they did it, they just said…” His voice faltered, his expression twisting with an ancient kind of fear. “That they were going to annihilate us.”

And then, Sunoo told them his story. His voice was barely a whisper—fragile, trembling—as if every word he spoke cost him a piece of his soul. The room was quiet, lit only by the soft, warm glow of a single lamp.

He told them that when he arrived in Europe, he’d been only five years old—just a child, a vampire child. His parents, in a final act of love, had sent him away, assuring him he’d be safe that way. He never knew how they managed it or what it cost them. He only remembered the salty smell of the harbor and the shouts in languages he couldn’t understand. It was there, on that cold, damp dock, that a community of vampires found him—alone, lost—and took him in.

That community hid deep within a southern French port city. It was the perfect place for them: humid, dimly lit, and free of werewolves. They lived in peace for years, tucked away in underground tunnels and abandoned buildings. Sunoo grew up among them, learning to feed, to hide, to survive.

But peace never lasts forever. When rumors of hunters and disappearances began to spread, they fled to Norway. The cold was brutal, but there, they were invisible. Still, loneliness has a price, and it was that longing for something different that led Sunoo to make his greatest mistake.

During a short trip to Stockholm, he met a human—a young librarian with ink-stained hands and a warm smile, who talked to him about art, about music, about humanity. Sunoo hadn’t planned to fall in love, but he did. Against everything he knew, against every warning he’d ever heard, he let himself be drawn in by the gentleness the human awoke in him. It was a secret love, tender and full of shared silences. At first, he only watched from the shadows—but eventually, he revealed himself. And the human accepted him. No questions asked.

Until he noticed. That he didn’t age. That he didn’t sleep. That his eyes glowed in the dark.

“When he found out I was a vampire… he sold me,” Sunoo said. There was no resentment in his voice, only a deep, hollow emptiness. “He handed me over to some organization… secret, maybe. People in white coats and empty eyes.”

They locked him up. Isolated him. Started experimenting on him like an animal. They tore out his fangs, over and over again, studying them as if they were fossils. They fed him different types of blood—even animal blood. Sometimes they didn’t feed him at all, for weeks—just to watch how his body broke down from the inside. They recorded everything. Took notes. Laughed.

Sunoo had no idea how long he’d been there. He’d lost all sense of time—days, seasons, years. All he knew was that the love he once believed in had doomed him. “Sometimes I thought I was going to die. Sometimes I wanted to,” he confessed. “But then… something inside me said no. That I could still get out.”

And one day, he did. No one knew how. Not even him. He only remembered biting, running, smelling… And when he’d finally gotten far enough from Stockholm—when the city was nothing but a nightmare fading behind him—he caught a scent in the air. Familiar, ancient… warm. Wonwoo. And he followed it, crawling almost, until he found them.

Wonu felt completely shattered inside. When the young vampire approached him and showed the gaps in his gums, his heart broke. “They make sure to pull them out every time they start growing back,” he explained in a choked voice. “They’re afraid I’ll bite someone… even though I don’t want to anymore.”

It was true. Every time his fangs grew back, they were ripped out again—punishment, control, a warning. As if they could tame him by taking away what he was. Sunoo confessed that, though he looked like a teenager, he was already 105 years old. His delicate, thin body carried that age in his eyes—invisible scars left by time and pain.

Later that night, after Sunoo had fallen asleep in the spare room they’d hurriedly prepared—fresh sheets, a thick blanket, and a pair of Wonwoo’s pajamas—the two of them returned to their own bedroom.

Mingyu still wasn’t ready to trust the young vampire. He was cautious by nature, wary. And as moving as Sunoo’s story was, it set off alarms in his mind. But he could tell Wonwoo had already made up his mind.

Beneath the blankets, in the dim light of their room, silence stretched between them like an invisible veil. “Do you think we should keep him here? Do you think we can really help him?” Wonwoo finally asked, his voice heavy with doubt and compassion.

Mingyu slowly turned to face him. The faint golden gleam of his eyes shimmered in the dark.  “Is that what you want, baby? You want us to take care of him?”

Wonwoo nodded without speaking. His face was full of sadness—guilt for not having been able to do more for Sunoo earlier. “Would it bother you if we did? I know it’s a burden for you to get the blood reserves and—”

Mingyu didn’t let him finish. He leaned in and kissed him softly, their lips barely touching. It was a small gesture—but full of tenderness. A promise. “If that’s what you want, love… then we’ll take care of him,” he murmured. “I just think he should earn our trust first.”

Wonwoo wrapped his arms around him tightly, closing his eyes. And for the first time in a long while, he felt like maybe—just maybe—they were doing the right thing. Even if it wouldn’t be easy.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

Sunoo woke up early, feeling as if he’d slept better than he had in years. The night had been peaceful, almost unnervingly so. As he made his way to the kitchen, he thought about how to express his gratitude to Wonwoo and Mingyu for taking him in so kindly. The young vampire’s future was uncertain, but finding refuge with Wonwoo brought him a strange, soothing sense of peace—perhaps some unknown vampire bond between them was at play.

For Sunoo, Wonwoo’s physical presence—so unlike the typical image of the European vampires—was comforting. It made him feel less lonely, something rare and unexpectedly warm for him. Mingyu, however, being a werewolf, stirred a quiet, instinctive fear in him. He hadn’t felt in mortal danger since his time under human control, yet Mingyu’s predatory nature lingered constantly in the back of his mind.

Trying to clear his thoughts, Sunoo decided to cook something simple with whatever ingredients were on hand. He wasn’t sure if Wonwoo even enjoyed human food, but he prepared a meal for both of them anyway, trusting that Mingyu at least would eat it.

A few minutes later, Mingyu emerged from his room, freshly showered and dressed casually, a white robe draped over one arm. “Morning,” he greeted, stepping closer to see what Sunoo had made. Sunoo tensed for a moment, but his nerves eased when he saw Wonwoo coming from his own room as well.

“Good morning... uh, I—” Sunoo cut himself off, avoiding their eyes. Wonwoo came up behind Mingyu and wrapped his arms loosely around his waist. “I wasn’t sure if you liked human food, but I made this for the two of you... I’ve lived with humans for a long time, so I picked up a few things about cooking,” he explained shyly.

Wonwoo opened the fridge, pulled out some strawberries, and said, “I don’t like human food. You can have it if you’d prefer.”

Sunoo sat down across from Mingyu and set the dish in front of him. “Well, I guess I’ve gotten used to eating out of habit more than anything else. I spent so long pretending to be human that now I just... do it automatically. Human food does have a few nice things about it,” he said with a small smile, watching as Wonwoo began eating the strawberries.

“You can talk to Mingyu too,” Wonwoo added softly, trying to make things easier between them. Mingyu stayed quiet, respecting Sunoo’s space and letting Wonwoo guide the interaction with his usual calm wisdom. He knew earning Sunoo’s trust would take time.

In truth, Sunoo’s fear was natural—an instinctive response born of centuries of enmity. Vampires and werewolves had always stood on opposite sides, and even if peace reigned in this house, ancient blood still remembered. Sunoo couldn’t forget that the reason he’d fled Korea in the first place was because of Mingyu’s ancestors—wolves who, in their time, would have wiped out his bloodline without hesitation. The present seemed to offer a new home, but the memories imprinted in his veins kept him cautious.

The young vampire gave a small, silent nod and continued eating slowly, almost mechanically. The warmth he tried to project in conversation was genuine, though his voice still carried a faint tremor when he finally spoke again. “Do you only like strawberries?” he asked, glancing at Wonwoo from the corner of his eye as he took another bite of his food. Wonwoo, as serene as ever, simply nodded while biting into a strawberry with a childlike gentleness that Sunoo found oddly comforting.

“Oh... I used to only like apples at first,” Sunoo went on, smiling timidly, his lips faintly tinted pink from the meal. “The red ones are my favorite.” As he spoke, his eyes brightened slightly, as though that simple, human memory connected him more deeply to them—like talking about something trivial could bridge centuries of inherited mistrust.

Mingyu, sitting nearby, didn’t miss the moment. Without saying a word, he took mental note of every detail—the red apples, the way Sunoo looked at Wonwoo for quiet approval, the almost tangible longing to belong. He understood then that it wouldn’t be enough for Wonwoo to accept the young vampire; he too would have to earn Sunoo’s trust, slowly and carefully.

Watching Sunoo there, sharing a simple breakfast and talking about favorite fruits, filled Mingyu with an unexpected sense of responsibility. He knew how much it meant to Wonwoo to have someone by his side. He still remembered how Seungcheol had once rejected Wonwoo, even though he was a vampire himself.

So Mingyu, understanding the fragile beauty of this new connection, silently promised himself that he’d do whatever it took to keep Sunoo close to the vampire he loved. Not just for the sake of peace in their home, but because he sensed something deeper in the boy—a chance for Wonwoo to finally find a piece of the happiness that had always been denied to him.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

Sunoo definitely knew far more about human things than Wonwoo did, and he showed him everything with a kind of almost brotherly patience. Physically, Wonwoo felt as if he had a younger brother—someone smaller to look after—but Sunoo’s mind was different: sharper, more developed... even more advanced.

Sunoo had lived much longer. He had wandered through countless nights, wrapped in both luminous and shadowed experiences. He had spent a full century among humans, learning their habits, vices, pleasures, and sorrows. And while none of that stirred envy in Wonwoo, it did spark curiosity. He knew his own life would never end, that he would live forever, and that made him unhurried. All he truly longed for was to absorb Sunoo’s knowledge without having to risk as much as he had.

The younger vampire told him all kinds of stories—some so strange they even unsettled Wonwoo. He discovered that human life wasn’t as simple as he had imagined; it was full of choices, limits, illnesses, and loss. Mortality, far from being just a concept, had layers, scars, demands he had never considered.

Wonwoo only wanted one thing: to spend eternity by Mingyu’s side. That was why he made himself learn as much as possible during that first day shared with Sunoo. Together they made a strawberry dessert, and while they worked, he poured all his hope into the idea that his beloved werewolf would like it.

When they finished cooking, Sunoo introduced him to something entirely new—video games. “I don’t usually play violent ones, they make me hungry,” he said with a small grin, and Wonwoo nodded in understanding.

“It’s the same for me with horror movies,” he replied casually. But video games felt different. To Wonwoo, it was more like creating a movie of his own—one where he could decide what happened. They played for hours on Wonwoo’s device, since Sunoo didn’t even own a phone. They got so absorbed in that digital world that the battery finally died just after Mingyu sent a message letting Wonwoo know he was on his way home.

“Whoa! Video games are so much fun,” Wonwoo exclaimed, standing up from the couch and stretching lazily. Then he headed for the kitchen to make sure everything was ready for when Gyu arrived and tried the dishes they’d made. Or rather, the ones Sunoo had made, with a bit of his help—because he definitely wasn’t the expert.

As expected, Sunoo followed him. He calmly went to the stove and began reheating the pork soup they’d prepared earlier. “Yeah, I love them… They’ve changed so much over time, just like cell phones. Sometimes I can’t believe I’ve lived through so many eras in this world… And I guess eternity is still waiting for me,” he said quietly, his voice serene but tinged with faint sadness.

“Don’t you like that? Eternity?” Wonwoo asked, looking at him curiously.

“I might like it more if I could share it with someone… I mean, you’ll only share a bit of time with Mingyu because he—”

“No… Mingyu’s immortal too,” Wonwoo interrupted with a calm smile, as if revealing something precious. To him, Mingyu was no longer just a werewolf; he was a part of him.

“What? There are immortal werewolves now?” Sunoo asked, astonished. His voice trembled with disbelief, and a flicker of fear crossed his face.

“Mingyu isn’t a werewolf anymore,” Wonwoo said softly. “He’s… an abomination.”

Sunoo froze. The myth of abominations had always fascinated him, but never—in more than a hundred years on Earth—had he actually met one. And now, he had one living right beside him.

Perhaps in Europe it wasn’t common, or at least not something people spoke of openly. Despite his long life and access to the internet, to secret forums, to old texts and hidden networks where creatures like him exchanged information, Sunoo had never come across a single confirmed case of someone becoming an abomination. It was a concept many knew of, whispered about in legends and shadows, but no one ever spoke of it with certainty.

The feud between vampires and werewolves was too old, too deep, for anyone to even imagine such a fusion. Their blood was fire and ice. They rejected each other by nature—two opposing forces doomed to repel since the dawn of time.

“But… how did it happen?” the younger vampire asked, his voice trembling between shock and fascination. His eyes shone—not from the kitchen light, but from genuine wonder that ran through him entirely. He had never been this close to such a forbidden story.

Wonwoo took a moment before answering. His lips curved into a calm, dreamy smile, as though he were remembering something beautiful. His eyes softened slightly, like he was drifting through memory, still feeling the warmth of that connection. “I bit him,” he began gently, as if afraid to disturb the air around them. “Now he has a bit of me in him. And when I drank his blood… I took a bit of him too. What we were became mixed. It changed. And now… we’ll walk through eternity together.”

Sunoo stared at him in complete silence, not even blinking. What Wonwoo had just said was the wildest thing he’d heard in decades—and yet, he hadn’t said it with fear, or shame. He said it with love. With a tenderness so pure it chilled him. It was something that defied every law of their kind, something that bordered on the impossible. But in that moment, with that soft expression on Wonwoo’s face, Sunoo couldn’t help but believe him.

He realized, without needing another word, that Wonwoo and Mingyu weren’t an ordinary pair—they never had been. What they shared went beyond the rules of clans, lineages, or ancient traditions they had both defied without hesitation. They had crossed an invisible line no one dared to touch, and now, they would never have to part.

A shiver ran down Sunoo’s spine—not from fear, but from respect. Because what they had… was strong. Unbreakable. Powerful enough to alter the very nature of their bodies, their blood, their existence. Strong enough to create an abomination—and still remain a secret. And deep down, Sunoo understood. Perhaps… he even envied them a little.

꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦

A happy family.

That’s what Wonwoo thought every time he sat at the table with Sunoo and Mingyu. Such a simple scene, yet for him, it felt like a small miracle. They had found a rhythm a warm, soft routine, like one of those songs that never gets old no matter how many times you play it.

Sunoo worked night shifts at a nearby factory. It wasn’t his dream job, but he never complained. On the contrary, he said he liked it—that it made him feel useful. After so many years living among humans, he had learned how to act like one, and he knew how to hide perfectly. His pale skin, thin frame, and calm way of speaking made him seem like a quiet, slightly eccentric young man, but never suspicious. He came home just before dawn, when the sky turned to ashen blue, and slipped under the blankets as if daytime simply didn’t exist for him. He slept deeply while the rest of the world carried on, and woke up just in time to share dinner with Mingyu.

They didn’t always eat much. Sometimes Sunoo would just have one or two apples while Mingyu devoured something more substantial, and Wonwoo amused himself with his strawberries. He’d cut them into precise little pieces—small red triangles lined up like part of a quiet ritual. In those moments, time seemed to float around them, suspended somewhere between casual conversation and fleeting glances shared among the three. On weekends, when he wasn’t too tired, Sunoo would go out to a vampire club—a discreet place hidden among alleyways and dim lights, where others like him could gather without fear.

When he told Wonwoo about that place, the older vampire was genuinely surprised. “There are other vampires here? Living together and—?”

“Yes,” Sunoo nodded. “In Europe that’s common. There are vampire communities—though, of course, no one knows what we are. If they did, they’d hunt us down. But it’s safe... I want to go there. Can I?” he asked, his voice a mix of excitement and nervousness.

For the first time, Wonwoo felt that tug in his chest—a protective instinct. Like a real older brother, one who not only worries but also knows when to let go. Even though the idea unsettled him, he ended up trusting Sunoo. After all, Sunoo had experience; he knew how to move, how to survive. Unlike Wonwoo, who only ever went out with Mingyu—and only until certain hours of the night, because after that, dawn would come… and that would literally kill him.

“If you want, you can come with me… though I’m not sure Mingyu would be welcome,” Sunoo said carefully, not wanting to offend anyone. He knew the presence of a werewolf would set the other vampires on edge. Just one whiff of him, and they’d know what he was—and react with fear.

“No, I don’t like going out without Mingyu,” Wonwoo admitted quietly. “If you want to go, that’s fine. Just take care of yourself and come back safe, okay?” It was all he could say—and he meant it.

Days went by, and they found a kind of harmony—even if their routine was sometimes gently broken. Like when they decided to go out to the little market that was open 24 hours a day. Wonwoo loved that place. Not only because it was open at night and he could go without worry, but because everything there felt suspended between the human world and something else.

The lights were warm and yellow, some bulbs flickering like tired fireflies. There were fruit stands, freshly baked bread, and flowers that only bloomed at night. Sunoo would get lost among teas and strange soaps. Mingyu carried the reusable bag, putting inside whatever Wonwoo pointed at—strawberries, of course, along with sugar, flour, eggs, and a kind of bread that Sunoo liked.

Once, during one of those late-night walks, the three of them stopped to watch a fish tank filled with colorful fish beside a vegetable stall. No one said a word. They just stood there, watching the fish swim in circles, not really knowing why. In that moment, without realizing it, they all shared the same thought: this feels like home.

Wonwoo couldn’t help but feel grateful. He had never imagined a life like this. After everything that had happened—after the massacre of the werewolves in Korea, after the hundred-year sleep during which his family had vanished from the world like ashes in the wind—he had stopped believing in anything resembling peace. But now he had Mingyu. He had Sunoo. And that was more than he ever thought he’d have again. That was enough.