a prodigy in hibernation (benniot_91) wrote in awriting_rodent,
a prodigy in hibernation


A/N: A belated Happy New Year fic, since we’re still in January anyways. KrisHo. 1,536 word count. Vampire!AU.


Because in the daylight we'll be on our own--

He looks down at the parking lot; the white boxes are still empty and there are like three dogs sleeping in one box nearest to the main entrance of the building—huddled together for warmth. A few sleepy birds are already on their way to find food for their offspring; some are probably singing their mating songs, he doesn’t really care. He takes a deep breath and climbs to the edge of the rooftop, counting the minutes before sunrise, arms spread open and eyes shut.

This is not the first time Junmyeon decides to do this.

“I’m ready for this. I’m ready for this. I’m ready for this...” he chants, although he is pretty sure he isn’t ready for this. His palms are sweaty and it starts to feel very hot inside his jumper. Over the sturdy-looking metal bridge that crosses the wide river and to the east of the building where he is standing on, the sky turns into purplish orange, and a few minutes later a bright yellow line starts to appear like a layer of caramel sauce on top of some unfinished bread pudding.

“This is it. I’m ready for this. I’M READY FOR THIS!” he yells, raising his hands higher when he feels his head is covered by some kind of clothes. He can feel the delicateness of the texture when he palms the fabric, and there’s a musky smell mixed with peppermint smeared all over it. Junmyeon is instantly reminded of someone who wears handmade suits and Dunhill’s country fragrance every day.

This is not the first time he did this.

“It’s dawn. Get inside; I don’t want you to be burn to crisp,” a smooth, gentle voice orders him, and Junmyeon pulls the suit away from his face. His cheeks feel as if someone had just put a hot iron on them, and he screams. A pair of huge hands pulls the suit to be over his head once again and drags him all the way from the edge of the rooftop to behind the door to the staircase.

“Does it hurt?” he asks after he is sure the sunlight cannot reach them, pulling away the suit from Junmyeon and places his thumb and forefinger on Junmyeon’s chin, turning his head left and right checking his injuries. Thank God he moved fast—Junmyeon’s cheeks are only as red as sunburn should be. Grinning, Junmyeon pulls away from his hand and leans against the wall.

“I want to die, Yifan,” he calmly says, looking at the confused big guy in front of him. Yifan then chuckles; seriously, this isn’t the first time he heard that.

“You can’t—you don’t have the guts to do it,” he jeers, and Junmyeon pouts.

“Well, you don’t know that.” Yifan walks over and corners him with his arms against the wall. Licking his lips, he closes the small distance between them; so close that Junmyeon is counting the little freckles on his nose. His heartbeat sounds calm, and Junmyeon can hear Yifan’s blood gushing through his veins as if he has a stethoscope plugged into his ears.

One of the perks of being this creature, he guesses.

“Oh I know, because you certainly can’t get enough of this,” he says, biting the inner wall of his mouth before he proceeds to suck on Junmyeon’s upper lip. Junmyeon sighs heavily with lust; his tongue starts counting the perfect fit of Yifan’s teeth. The taste of Yifan’s sweet, sweet blood makes his gum tingles, and slowly, a set of small, sharp teeth with two longer ones protruding on the sides appears on top of his normal one.

“I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” he says, breathlessly as he pauses and stares into Yifan’s eyes. Those brown orbs always feel deeper than they should be, and Junmyeon sometimes is beyond terrified. Yifan shakes his head and palms the sides of Junmyeon’s face, licking the cut he made earlier inside his mouth and sticks his tongue out, offering, but Junmyeon refuses. Yifan then lets out a small smile.

“I’m your survival kit, aren’t I? It doesn’t hurt, Kim Junmyeon, so stop thinking too much,” he says, planting his lips on the side of Junmyeon’s mouth. Junmyeon still doesn’t want to accept it, and that pisses Yifan off. Pushing the smaller man harsher against the wall, he bites his lower lip a little bit too hard that blood cannot stop gushing out from the small cut. Junmyeon shuts his eyes and wants to turn his face away, but Yifan pulls him back to face him.

“Eat,” he deadpans, but Junmyeon still refuses. Yifan still doesn’t want to let him go.

“Please, eat, my Liege, or this humble servant of yours will have no more purpose in his existence,” Yifan tries again, this time with his voice toned down, and instead of ordering, he is pleading. Junmyeon hates to hear Yifan’s voice like that—it’s heart-breaking and torturing him.

“Okay,” he answers almost a minute later, short and pregnant with desires. Yifan smiles as Junmyeon’s eyes turn into the colour of blood as he starts to ravish his lips like a hungry little vampire he is.


“I need to get down to the office now,” Yifan says after he checks his phone; his secretary sent him a note on the meeting this morning. His lips are still swelling a little, but he guarantees Junmyeon that it will heal in no time. Junmyeon nods, but still clinging to his arm as they sit side by side on the floor behind the door of the staircase. Yifan squints as he thinks about something.

“Do you still want to die, my Liege?” he asks, and Junmyeon nods slowly, but without hesitation. Yifan sighs, and pulls him into his arms. Junmyeon lets him.

“I’m the only one left in my bloodline, Yifan. I’m the last of my kind, but I’m still too young to have my own descendants. I’ve been a parasite to your family for so long that I’m ashamed to be called your Liege anymore. If only...” he pauses, making Yifan curious as to what his next word would be.

“If only...?” Yifan prompts and Junmyeon sighs.

“If only you let me turn to ashes that morning fifteen years ago, you’d be free from this curse. From me,” he says with a sad smile, reminiscing the moment when Yifan threw his middle school uniform over his head, yelling at him asking whether he was crazy to be out in the open during daylight. He wasn’t even his guardian by then.

“A curse... yeah, you’re definitely the worst curse that a family could ever imagine to have,” Yifan agrees, and Junmyeon flinches.

“But I think a curse is a lot like love. It’s subjective, and not everyone views it in the same way. The guardians before me saw you as the almighty pureblood that they must protect for the sakes of others, but not me.” Yifan continues as he firmly holds Junmyeon and kisses his temple.

“Kim Junmyeon, you’re just a lonely person thinking that he’s a burden to everyone. You’re just a boy that I cannot help but to care with all my heart because if I don’t, you’ll skip your meals and ignores your health. An annoying person that I’ve come to adore.” He finishes, and smiles. Junmyeon has this urge to kiss those lips right away but he doesn’t want to hurt Yifan more than he already had. So in the end, he smiles softly and nods.

They stare into each other’s faces for quite some time when Yifan finally breaks the silence.

“I really need to be down there,” he says, getting up and fixing his suit. Junmyeon nods without a word and they walk side by side down the stairs to the elevators. Yifan takes the right one which will lead him to the level where his office is located and Junmyeon gets on the left one that will take him straight to the third level basement of the building; his nest.

(it’s not a nest, actually, more like a condominium lot buried underneath an office building)

The doors of Junmyeon’s elevator are about to close when Yifan throws his hand in between, stopping them from closing.

“What’s wrong?” he asks as Yifan steps forward and enters with one hand still forcing the doors to open. It takes Junmyeon a moment to realise that Yifan’s cut lips are flowering over his, and Junmyeon thinks he likes this kind of kiss more than the hungry ones earlier.

“I’ll come down after work tonight. I’m bringing my Harry Potter DVD set so get the popcorns ready,” he commands, and Junmyeon is pretty sure he’s not really listening to any of Yifan’s word, but oh well. He’ll just text him later.

Junmyeon still wants to die—turning into ashes at the mere touch of morning sunlight on his skin because he has been left without any more reasons to live. But he also wants to watch the sunrise with Yifan during weekends on the rooftop of Wu Corporation’s thirty-five storeys building.

The latter sounds more fun.

(with some protection gears against the sunlight, of course)

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