#sugalaritae

Namjoon hums. "You said you were going to take a break thirty minutes ago." His fingers skim down Yoongi's bare arms, leaving goosebumps behind. "I'm just trying to help."

Yoongi snorts. "This is your idea of helping? I'd appreciate it even more if you wanted to write a few pages here."

Instead of answering, Namjoon grabs Yoongi's hips, pulling him into his lap. Yoongi doesn't stop him but he doesn't let go of his laptop, either.

It's not fair, Namjoon using his hulking frame against Yoongi like this, curling himself around his boyfriend. It makes Yoongi feel so small, so delicate. Makes him yearn to be taken care of, instead of being the one in charge for once.

"Put the laptop down. You've been working for hours. Just take a breather for ten minutes. Recharge yourself," Namjoon murmurs, nuzzling his nose against Yoongi's ear.

Yoongi can feel his boyfriend's hard cock beneath him, feels his own filling out in his jeans. It's gonna be difficult to keep typing if all the blood in is body is pooling well below his fingers and brain.

He needs to finish this paper, but how is he supposed to do that when the heat from Namjoon's firm chest is seeping through Yoongi's shirt, warming him all over? Or when Namjoon's lips affix themselves to the side of Yoongi's slender neck, teeth nipping hard enough to break the skin and leave a mark? Goddamn it, the taller man knows that's Yoongi's weak spot.

Maybe ten minutes wouldn't be too much.

The laptop slides to the floor as Yoongi reaches behind him, knotting his fingers in Namjoon's raven locks, anchoring the man in place. "Ah, like that," he groans, tilting his head to pull the man closer, urge him to decorate his soft skin with more bites.

Namjoon laughs, victorious. "Now you're ready for a break?"

"Shhh, just keep going," Yoongi mutters, guiding one of Namjoon's hands to the zipper on Yoongi's jeans. He can't tear his eyes away as his boyfriend's fingers wrap around his rigid cock. They're so much thicker than Yoongi's lithe fingers. The size difference makes his head spin a bit. "Oh god, don't stop."

Namjoon doesn't, until Yoongi is gasping in his arms, covering the both of them in his climax. "That's it, baby. Just breathe."

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

The shop bell rings, and Taehyung lifts his head. 

The man that left a mark on Taehyung’s collarbone saunters in, the smell of sweet night following him into the convenience store. 

Taehyung can never look away from him, the way that he stares, the way he sees Taehyung. Taehyung had seen men like him before, the kind of man that seems to be dressed head-to-toe in charisma. The kind of man that can switch quickly from comfort to mocking in a second and could make Taehyung get on his knees with a snap of his fingers, except that isn’t Sungwon. Sungwon is surprising, deep,  and Taehyung knows there is more to discover and he aches for the next layer of mystery to be stripped away.

“Babe,” Taehyung grins as Sungwon steps behind the counter and close to him, his head blocking the light and cutting off the code. It gives Taehyung’s brain a break. 

“Working hard or hardly working?” Sungwon chuckles, his gaze flicking down to the phone Taehyung holds in his hands. “Put it away.” 

Taehyung tsks and rolls his eyes, but puts his phone away anyways.

“You could go easy on me,” he says. 

“C’mon, babe,” Sungwon steps closer and slips a finger under Taehyung’s chin and lifts his head gently, his eyes dark as he looks down at Taehyung. He swipes a finger over Taehyung’s frown. “You know I can’t hold you to a different standard than the other employees just because we’re fucking.” 

“Oh? So we’re just fucking?” Taehyung cuts back, a glimmer of humor in his eyes. 

Sungwon grins at Taehyung. “Fucking. And more.” Sungwon says with a wink. 

“What brings you by?” Taehyung secretly hopes he’ll answer that he’s come by for him, but knows that Sungwon never comes by the shop for Taehyung unless he’s showing up for a dick appointment. Which, of course, Taehyung doesn’t mind. Sungwon says he doesn’t mix business and pleasure, but he’s a hypocrite. At least it keeps Taehyung on his toes. And his knees.

The two met when Sungwon bought the convenience store. Taehyung was the slender, young sales clerk, and Sungwon had immediately taken a liking to him, asking him out the first time they met. Taehyung didn’t know where his life was going, but he did know one thing: he could get out. He could travel. So when they met, he was in the process of saving up for a plane ticket to anywhere, and in walzed Sungwoon, jetsetter extraordinaire and businessman. It was easy for Taehyung to quickly agree to the striking and charming man, especially when Sungwon had promised to take him out to Crave, the brand new hip restaurant in Itaewon. Itaewon wasn’t Paris, but it was far enough outside of his world. He had been there before. Had walked in front of the storefronts, each one reminding him of posters hanging on a wall of places he wanted to travel. There but just out of reach. 

Taehyung wasn’t sure why Sungwon had invested in such a shit property with the convenience store, considering how quiet the business always was, tucked down a quiet, unfrequented street. Sungwon always seemed like such a shrewd businessman though, so Taehyung never questioned him. Never questioned the strange packages that started coming through the back door. Never questioned the late night frequent customers who never seemed to buy anything, but always needed to talk to the owner. He had learned long ago that questions only lead him to trouble.

The bell chimes again and Sungwon quickly steps away from Taehyung, brushing his hands together. 

“Back to work,” Sungwon says, maybe a little too loudly and giving no answer to Taehyung’s question of what it was that brought Sungwon by the little shop.

“Right. Boss.” 

“I love you,” Sungwon whispers before heading to the back office. It’s not the first time he’s said it, but it still sends a shiver down Taehyung’s spine, the delight of attention, of affection, from a man like Sungwon.

“Love you, too.” It slips off of his tongue easily, like a well-rehearsed line. Like it’s supposed to be there. Right? It’s supposed to be there. 

Taehyung finally gets a look at the person who’s come through the door. It’s one of his regulars, someone who’s been by the shop for months, though he doesn’t know his name. Just knows him by the leather biker pants he’s always wearing and the motorcycle helmet he keeps slung over one arm. Taehyung watches him as he struts inside, twirling the helmet once around—and knocking a display of snacks over. 

“Oh, shit,” the man says, looking at Taehyung. 

This has happened before. This happens all the time. Someone makes a mess, then expects him to clean it up. 

“It happens,” he sighs and makes his way over. 

“Hey—” There’s a hand on him, and Taehyung freezes. He looks down. The man’s tattooed hand is gripped around his bicep, holding firm. “I’ll take care of it. It’s my mess.” 

“It’s in the job description,” Taehyung offers, bending down. “Don’t worry.” 

“I said, I’ll take care of it.” The man’s expression looks so stern, so serious, that Taehyung stops and takes a step back. 

“I mean, if you insist.” 

“I do.” 

And then the man smiles. Taehyung blinks back at him, and hurries back behind the counter. The man’s kindness has taken him off guard. It would have been more normal for him to disregard his mess and leave it for Taehyung to take care of on his own. 

Taehyung retreats to his seat by the register. 

Averting his gaze from the man in the store who seems to keep looking at him, he distracts himself by counting the flickering light again.  

“A bit annoying isn’t it?” the man asks and points up to the light, his eyes going wide as he looks up, his mouth opening just a little. Taehyung can’t help but notice how young the man suddenly looks as he gives a little blink with each flicker like he’s trying to decipher the code himself. Taehyung’s gaze follows and then he shrugs. 

“Yeah.”

The man looks back down and at Taehyung, blinking a few times to clear his sight. Taehyung knows that he’s seeing the bright line, engraved in his vision, just like Taehyung and it must be brighter as he was staring at the light longer than Taehyung was. 

“If you just unscrew it a little but keep it in there it won’t flicker but the bulb beside it will stay lit,” the man says and Taehyung smiles. Twice he’s helped him out without needing to, even though this could only be considered advice, it’s advice that Taehyung thinks he might take. Maybe as soon as Sungwon is gone, he’ll get onto the counter and try it. 

“Just be careful you don’t fall,” the man says as if he’s reading Taehyung’s mind. 

“Oh,” Taehyung says, caught off guard. 

“Might be better if you have someone to help you. Why don’t we do it now?” 

Taehyung glances to the back of the store where Sungwon’s office is. Sungwon wouldn’t like him getting on the counter when a customer could walk in at any moment. But then again, it’s his job to man the store, which includes fixing random bits and pieces here and there. So Taehyung nods, and begins to scramble onto the counter. 

He jolts when a pair of hands come down on his hips. 

“I’ve got you,” the man says. “You won’t fall. Not under my watch.” The man cracks a smile and Taehyung’s cheeks redden. He quickly returns to the job at hand, doing his best not to be blinded by the glaring light above or the thought of the bright smile below. 

“There, done,” Taehyung says. But the man doesn’t take his hands off of Taehyung’s hips. “I’m done,” he repeats. 

“Oh. Sorry.” 

The man almost looks like he’s blushing. 

“Taehyung.” 

The cold voice that echoes from the other side of the shop makes Taehyung stumble. But he’s held up by a strong set of hands and quickly rights himself, brushing down his apron before looking at the source of the voice. Sungwon stands in his office doorway, arms crossed. 

“Meet me in my office.” 

“Fuck, Sungwon,” Taehyung groans, as his lover rams into him. “Right—right there.” 

Taehyung is currently bent over Sungwon’s desk, papers pushed to the side to make room for Taeahyung’s torso. He’s on his elbows, but Sungwon rakes his hand through his hair and presses down, pushing his cheek into the cold surface of the desk. His hands flail to the side, palms spread wide like he’s praying. To what god? Taehyung doesn’t know, just knows the pleasure that flits through his body. 

Sungwon chuckles. “You think you can tell me what to do with you right now? Pretty pet doesn’t understand.” 

Taehyung grits his teeth. It feels so fucking good, and the sharpness of Sungwon’s words goes straight to his head. 

“I got you all pretty and prepped, I’m so gentle with you. When I should be punishing you.” He presses his hips against Taehyung’s ass and grinds into him, earning a groan from the man beneath him. “That’s what you deserve, don’t you? For letting another man touch you like that?” 

“I didn’t—” 

“Shhh,” Sungwon coos, his hand gliding down Taehyung’s back. “I saw it. Saw it with my own eyes. I didn’t think you needed reminding.” 

“Re-reminding—” Taehyung’s words jostle with every thrust. “Of what?” 

“That you’re mine.” 

Taehyung emerges from Sungwon’s office, hair a mess, cheeks aflame, sweat beading on his forehead. He looks thoroughly fucked. He had only been gone for what? Fifteen, twenty minutes? He always seems to lose track of time with Sungwon. But still he wonders if anyone noticed. If anyone listened in while he was being fucked into the desk. 

 The man is sitting at one of the tables in the back. He watches with wide eyes. He stands, and then thinking better of it, sits again. His eyes don’t leave Taehyung’s form. Taehyung wonders if he heard anything. 

“Remember who you belong to,” Sungwon murmurs into Taehyung’s ear before giving his ass a squeeze. 

The man’s eyes flash with unspoken emotion. 

“You,” Taehyung nods, a small smile on his lips. He’s drunk off of the attention, off of the possessive streak that Sungwon so boldly wears. Sungwon who never seems to care what anyone will think of them, the potential danger of having Taehyung in such a public setting. Taehyung feeds off it while a small space in the back of his mind is alert and ready to fight anyone who might say or do something. 

Even now, he wants to look up and challenge the man to say something but instead his eyes are glued to the floor, flickering closed as Sungwon’s words linger against his skin. 

Taehyung returns to his place behind the counter, wiping a sweaty strand of hair out of his eyes. His gaze flickers to the man sitting in the corner. He’s slurping on a drink, his mouth wrapped around a straw, but his eyes are locked on Taehyung. 

He thinks he can ignore the regular, thinks he can go about his work. Taehyung doesn't like the way that the customer watches him but there is something written on his face, a moment of discomfort and Taehyung wonders if maybe it's the realization of who he is. Who he is attracted to. The man continues to stare, and it feels like his gaze is boring into the back of Taehyung’s head, feels like he can see right through his brain to the thoughts in his mind, right through the office door to where he was fucked. It itches, the attention, and soon it becomes so much that Taehyung whips around. 

“What?” Taehyung snaps. “What is it?” 

The man swirls his straw around his drink once, then twice before answering. “Why do you let him talk to you like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re some kind of plaything. Some kind of pet.” 

“I’m not his pet.” 

“He basically leads you around on a leash.” 

Taehyung is flabbergasted. 

“And what right do you have to make assumptions like that?” 

The man shrugs. “Dunno. Maybe I know a thing or two about what it means to be tied up with someone.” 

Taehyung frowns. “There’s nothing going on.” He hates lying about his relationship but knows that Sungwon would be furious if he were to spill the details of his private life to a customer. 

“Suit yourself.” 

Taehyung thinks the man will get up and leave after the interaction, but instead, he just sits there, sipping on his drink entirely unbothered. 

“Don’t you have someplace to be?” Taehyung asks. 

“Nope.” 

“Great.” 

Taehyung rolls his eyes and flicks his phone back on. Maybe Sungwon will see and pull him back into his office for another “punishment.” 

Weeks have gone by. Taehyung’s eyes dart to the window. The wind presses a smattering of fallen leaves against the glass, and a large one has gotten caught in the door where it flaps and flutters desperately, trying to get free. Taehyung has the urge to open the door, just to see it fly free. 

Sungwon is gone and Taehyung is left to close up. 

“You gotta go,” Taehyung tells the man, who has once more returned to the convenience store. He’s sipping on his fourth or fifth banana milk of the evening. 

“Alright,” the man says, and disposes of his cup. He goes to the door and just stands there. 

Taehyung finishes his closing duties and stares at the man. “What are you doing?” 

“Waiting for you.” 

“Why?” 

“I was gonna offer to walk you home.” He opens the door and holds it for Taehyung. He steps through, and when it closes, locks it up. 

Taehyung is taken aback by the proposition. “No, no, that’s alright.” 

“It’s late. And it’s dark. And you’re a pretty boy—” 

“I’m not a boy.” 

“—Man, sorry,” he corrects himself. “It’s not as safe out there as you’d like to think it is. Just let me walk you home.” 

“What about your bike? Are you just going to leave it here?” he asks, eyes casting down to the helmet that is still in the man’s hands.

“I’ll come back and get it, no big deal.” 

“You don’t know where I live; it could be a long walk.” 

The other man just shrugs. 

Taehyung frowns at him and he’s about to say ‘no’ once more when his gaze focuses on something over the man’s shoulder. At the end of the road, something large and dark looms. It looks like a tall figure, almost human. But there’s something about the way it moves, so fluidly, like it’s walking on air, that sends a chill down Taehyung’s spine. 

Something’s wrong, he knows it right away. 

Without thinking, he reaches out for the man and grips his arm, tighty, his fingers digging into the leather of his jacket. 

“Let’s go.” 

He tugs him in the opposite direction of the figure, his steps quickening. But the man stalls, heavy and unwilling to be pulled at Taehyung’s pace. But then he looks over his shoulder too and something changes in his face. Fear? Possibly but  also something horrible—recognition.

“Alright, let’s go,” the man says, taking Taehyung’s arm and tugging him forward. 

The two walk quickly to the end of the road, where the streetlights resume, painting the streets golden. When Taehyung turns around, the figure is gone. He breathes out, but there’s still an unyielding tightness in his chest. 

“What the hell was that?” 

“Nothing,” the man says, but there’s something in his firm-set gaze that makes Taehyung think he knows exactly what that something was. 

“You know, don’t you?” 

“No.” But his mouth twitches. 

“You’re a bad liar.” 

“Let’s just get you home.” The man takes Taehyung’s arm and begins walking. Taehyung notices that they’re walking in the correct direction of his little apartment, but doesn’t say anything. Maybe the other man is just as eager as Taehyung is to get away from the sighting of the strange figure. 

They walk in silence for some time, before Taehyung realizes that the man still has his arm clutched in his, and he slowly pulls it out to walk by himself. The man looks almost hurt, but he says nothing and they continue on their way. 

“What’s your name?” Taehyung asks finally, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen you around for months and yet I have no idea who you are.”

“Maybe it’s better that way,” the man says, tight lipped. 

“Seriously.?” he asks with a  little laugh, “Mr. Mysterious. Oooh I’m so mysterious,” he laughs. “What’s your name?”

He scratches at his long dark hair before answering. “You can call me Jungkook. Most of my friends call me JK.” 

“I’m Taehyung.” 

“I know.” 

Taehyung looks at him with concern—how does this man know so much about him?—before Jungkook nods down at the glistening silver name badge on his chest. 

“Ah. Right. What do you do, Jungkook?” Taehyung has always wondered this, considering Jungkook showed up at the convenience store at the strangest of hours. 

“This and that.” 

Taehyung laughs. “That’s not an answer.” 

“I uh, well. I help some folks out. With their, um, business. Doing odd ends, bits and pieces. I hardly know what I’ll end up doing each day. I just go where they tell me.” He shrugs. 

“That sounds exciting,” Taehyung sighs. “I wish I had something like that.” 

“What? You don’t dream of being a sales clerk your whole life?” 

Jungkook is joking, but Taehyung still winces. “Ouch.” 

“Oh, come on, you must have dreams,” Jungkook says, nudging him. “Something that you wish you could do. Even if it’s improbable.” 

Taehyung nods, he had dreams once. Thought about getting out of the city he grew up in, seeing the world, having people know his name and face; the problem with dreams is that sometimes they stay dreams. They stay in one’s mind and trap the soul in what ifs and could have beens. Those what ifs and could have beens float through his head as he sits and watches the store. As he watches as couples float in and out of the door. As he stocks shelves and slips past people wearing the brand of watch that he’d wear if he had the life that he wanted. But for that kind of life to become reality, a person needs support, people, community—and that’s just not something that Taehyung has ever known. Never known what it’s like to be told that they believe in him. Until Sungwon walked into his life, took over the shop, and slipped into Taehyung’s bed. He, at least, seemed to inspire something in Taehyung, even if he didn’t have a name for what that was. 

“No, not really,” Taehyung says. “That’s the problem. I don’t know what I’m good at, don’t know what I want to do.” 

“Hm,” Jungkook hums and is quiet for a moment. “So you’re saying at no point no one ever paid you a compliment?” 

Taehyung’s not sure what that has to do with anything, but still, he thinks about it. “Someone once told me I have a good voice. Used to have me sing for her.”

“See, there you go!” Jungkook looks thrilled, and his outpouring of excitement makes Taehyung crack a smile. It’s a nice contrast to his hard-edged biker look. “You’re a born singer.”

“One compliment makes me a born singer?” Taehyung asks with a laugh as he turns to look at Jungkook. The man is already looking back at him with a directness as if he’s not concerned that there are any cracks in the road to trip on. 

“How did the compliment make you feel? How did it feel when she asked you to sing for her?” Jungkook asks before looking away. Taehyung can’t help but feel a poking desire to have the other man’s eyes on him again. His gaze felt good. It  felt warm. He can’t help but compare it to Sungwon. With Sungwon’s eyes on him, he feels like he’s been thrust on stage and blinded by a spotlight. With Jungkook, it feels like a soft summer sun.

He shrugs, “Good, I guess.”

“Just good?” 

“Yeah.” 

Jungkook shakes his head, “You know, some days I think about what else I could be doing and I can’t think of a single thing. Maybe it would be nice to have someone tell me that I’m good at something—something that I was born with. I imagine it would feel like a warm drink on a cold day. Or like they’re wrapping your sadness up in a blanket.” 

Taehyung is struck by the sudden profundity of Jungkook’s words. He hadn’t thought that much was going on behind all that leather and tattoos. He thinks about this image and about the compliment and nods: “I think that might be a really good way of putting it. Like it’s filling a part of you that you didn’t think would be filled. Or even noticed.” 

“Exactly,” Jungkook says, his voice excited as he turns to Taehyung and gives him a big, wide eyed smile. “Did hearing something good about you make you want to sing more?” 

Taehyung nods.

“See? Born singer. The compliment isn’t the thing that makes you want to sing. "But it gave the part of you that wanted to sing the attention it was asking for. And that is what makes you born to do it.”

Taehyung is silent as he lets Jungkook’s words settle in his mind. For the first time in a very long time the door leading to his dream unlocks. It doesn’t open. But it unlocks. 

The silence slips comfortably around the two of them and the figure is forgotten. It’s a pleasant silence, one that feels as if Taehyung has known Jungkook forever, and he supposes he has in a way, as Jungkook is a face that he sees every day. It’s not long until they’ve arrived at Taehyung’s apartment, and he’s suddenly nervous that he’s led this stranger to his home because that is what Jungkook is after all—a frequent stranger. So he lies. 

“Well, I’m almost home. About two blocks away. I’ll leave you here.” 

Jungkook looks up at the apartment building, directly at Taehyung’s window, and then shrugs with a smile. “Sure,” he says. 

“Um, thank you. Thank you for walking me home.” 

“Anytime. Anytime you need me—I mean, need my help. Or, you know, a compliment,” Jungkook says. “Don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll have one ready.” 

Fall fades, just as the bright leaves on the trees do. Life seems to go on undisturbed.

Though something is disturbed. Taehyung has begun having nightmares of a strange figure following him through the streets of Seoul. No matter how fast he runs, the figure always stays the same distance away. He wakes up in a sweat. 

It’s the reason why Taehyung doesn’t fight Jungkook off when he offers to walk him home. Some nights they talk about places that Taehyung wants to visit, Jungkook’s dream motorcycle, complaints about their bosses—who often display similar faults. Taehyung surprises himself when he complains about the man who is his boyfriend and boss, and doesn’t feel guilty.  No matter what they talk about, they never quite let the other in, and sometimes they walk in silence.

When the first snow comes, Taehyung is walking home with Jungkook. Jungkook is donned in what Taehyung has come to believe must be some kind of uniform: leather pants and a leather jacket. Despite the cold, his jacket is open, revealing a black turtleneck beneath, and the glint of a silver chain around his neck. Taehyung thinks they must make an odd pairing, what with him in a huge white puffer coat that Sungwon insisted on buying him and a scarf Namjoon knitted wrapped tightly around his throat. 

“Woah, would you look at that,” Jungkook muses, swinging his arm around Taehyung. He tilts his head up and looks directly up into the snow, the way it seems to appear out of the darkness. Taehyung looks down at the arm around him and finds himself smiling. 

“Yeah,” he says, looking at the way Jungkook’s cheeks scrunch up and lines appear at the sides of his eyes when he smiles. “Would you look at that.” 

Snow means his anniversary. Means an entire year spent together. Taehyung thinks that there’s going to be a break to everything. Snow means a clean slate, the change of seasons and memories of good things. The first time that the previous owner introduced Sungwon to Taehyung. The first look, the way that Sungwon looked at Taehyung and gave him a charming smile as he shook his hand. Normally businesses changing hands meant closure and Taehyung needing to find a new job as he had experienced before, but Sungwon, hand wrapped around Taehyung's and making eye contact that made Taehyung feel shy, guaranteed him that nothing would change. Except everything changed, at least for the two of them. 

“Do you ever think about the places that get more snow than we do?” Jungkook asks as they turn the corner onto Taehyung’s street. He still hasn’t told Jungkook that this is his street, they always say goodbye at the same place and Taehyung always waits until Jungkook has turned around and is out of sight to enter his building, worries still flitting through his mind that maybe he shouldn’t let this no-longer-a-stranger too close to him. Sometimes he wonders where Jungkook disappears each night, but he never asks. 

“You mean like the mountains?” 

“No, like other countries where they have snow permanently on the ground for months,” Jungkook says with a far off look as if he’s picturing a specific place. 

“I don’t think I have.” 

“I do, all the time. When I was little my dad used to show me pictures of snow as tall as my waist.” 

Taehyung looks at the other man, it’s the first time that he’s heard about Jungkook’s past and he’s intrigued but almost as quickly as the question was pulled out of nowhere, Jungkook stops and turns to Taehyung. “I love snow,” Jungkook explains before he looks up at the falling flakes. “Have a good night.” And with that he’s gone back the way they traveled. 

Taehyung watches him for a moment and then, instead of entering his building, he gazes up at the sky. Watching as the snow falls down, each flake becoming bigger as they get closer to him. He’s lost in watching them, how mesmerizing they are falling from the sky. How each one appears out of the nothingness of the sky. He hears the sound of a car passing and steps off the road and toward his building, stopping as he smells a strange scent. But it seems too out of place for his mind to recognize what it is. It makes him hesitate and he looks around, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, and he tries to  take a deep breath to steady himself but can’t quite find the air to fill his lungs. 

The scent fills his senses, and he can almost taste it on his tongue. It tastes of metal and earth. He knows he's smelled it before, at night, tied inexorably to Jungkook. It's been there all along, since that first night Jungkook walked him home. Now, though, he's alone and it's out of place so he begins to look for its source. Turning his gaze in each direction. Then he sees it—the figure. It stands at the top of the street, a form illuminated by the flickering light of a street lamp. Though he can’t see its face he knows it’s staring directly at him. A shiver runs down his spine and, for a moment, he’s frozen until a voice in his head tells him to run. He does, without thinking. He runs into the lobby of his building and past the group of teenagers that are always gathered playing games until their parents come down and yell at them to go back to their homes. He doesn’t take the elevator, he runs up the stairs instead, and doesn’t breathe until he’s safe behind a locked door in his apartment. 

No matter how many times they’ve met in the swanky bar on the first floor of Sungwon’s apartment complex, Taehyung still feels out of place. Even though he’s been dressed up in the finest clothes by his boyfriend, he still feels like someone will take one look at him and deem him an imposter. 

Taehyung searches the bar for a sign of his boyfriend. His gaze sweeps across couples and small groups dressed to the nines and scattered on plush seating, their faces shrouded by the dark atmosphere. That was something that Taehyung had quickly learned about all these fancy places: they seem to thrive in darkness. 

Maybe it was something about the secrecy of it all.

In the corner, there’s someone that almost looks familiar. A sweep of dark hair. A dance of leather. But the figure disappears into a booth and Taehyung doesn’t think twice about it. 

That’s when he spots Sungwon’s figure, draped over a chair at the bar. He’s smiling his signature smile at the bartender, but then, as if noticing Taehyung’s presence, his gaze shoots directly to his boyfriend. 

Sungwon orders Taehyung’s drink for him, already knowing the younger man’s taste well. But the thing about Sungwon is that as familiar as he is with what Taehyung does and doesn’t like, he always takes a certain pleasure in pushing Taehyung’s tastes further, urging him to try new things, mixing new ingredients into favorite drinks, and watching closely as Taehyung sipped from his glass, eager to know what he thinks. 

 Tonight is no different. 

The drink washes across Taehyung’s tongue, but he’s quick to grimace. 

“Ugh, gosh.” He tries to right his features, put on a smile. “It’s good!” 

Sungwon chuckles. “You don’t like it.” 

“I do!” 

“You don’t. Why don’t you like it?” 

“I don’t know. It tastes off. Like metallic or something. Iron.” 

“Hm,” Sungwon hums. “I usually like that palate.” 

“I guess we can’t agree on everything.”

The candles flicker, lighting up Sungwon’s face with a pattern of dancing light and shadow. Taehyung can’t take his eyes off of him. 

“Get him a new one,” Sungwon directs to the bartender. “Something sweet. Something a little more simple.” 

“Of course, sir.” 

When the new drink comes, Taehyung swirls it around, once, then twice, before lifting his glass. 

“Happy anniversary, babe,” he grins and offers his cocktail to his lover. They clink glasses.

One year together. One year since Sungwon waltzed into that store and swept Taehyung off of his feet. Today, Sungwon had Taehyung sent to a tailor to get a suit fitted just for him. He showered Taehyung with gifts, which made the younger man wonder if he had been able to afford them from the profits from the convenience store or from one of his many other businesses. He never really understood how money worked in Sungwon’s world, just that there was a lot of it. But who was he to complain? 

He feels pampered, luxuriated in the most divine way. 

The bartender sweeps by, breaking Taehyung’s reverie. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” Sungwon says. 

“But I haven’t finished my drink,” Taehyung replies. 

“Then bring it with you.” 

Taehyung looks at the expensive crystal glass and back at Sungwon. He grins and the two of them slip out of the bar. 

The couple eats dinner in relative silence in Sungwon’s penthouse, sharing comments about their day and the food. A staff member comes to clear their dinner plates and refills their wine. 

When desert comes, Taehyung reaches his foot beneath the table and glides it up the inside of Sungwon’s thigh. Sungwon closes his eyes and sighs. He puts a hand on Taehyung’s foot before brushing it off of his leg. 

“We need to talk.” 

Taehyung’s breath stills in his throat. Is this it? Is it over? Taehyung worries that he’s done something wrong, that somehow he’s messed up this perfect thing that he’s built with this beautiful man. He wonders if it was the interaction from the other week, when Jungkook—had gotten too close for Sungwon’s comfort. Maybe if Taehyung had been a bit more stand-offiish, or rude towards the man, he wouldn’t have messed this all up.

Or maybe Sungwon has finally learned about his late night walks with Jungkook. Maybe he thinks that this Jungkook means something to him. How is he supposed to explain he’s accepted a stranger’s help because he saw an eerie shadow in the darkness? 

He’ll have to try his best. He doesn’t want to lose Sungwon. 

Sungwon dismisses the staff members for the night, even his bodyguard, and leads Taehyung to the sprawling couch. A fire roars in the hearth, spilling warmth and light towards the two figures. He lets Taehyung sit first, before settling beside him. He rests a hand on his lover’s thigh and pulls him close. 

“There’s a part of me that I’ve never shared with you.” 

“Oh?” Taehyung perks up. Maybe it’s not as bad as he thought. He’s always been eager to get beneath the aura of mystery of the man he calls his boyfriend. And this is it. This is really it. “What is it? You can tell me anything.” 

A smile spreads across Sungwon’s face and Taehyung thinks how absolutely beautiful it is. How soft and wonderful it is, only a matter of time and the closeness that he’s been craving will be there. Sungwon’s truth and self will be laid out on the table instead of Taehyung’s body. 

“Look at you,” Sungwon says, his eyes moving along Taehyung’s face. “So beautiful.” 

Taehyung can feel the heat slip into his cheeks. 

“I wish there was a better way of putting this,” Sungwon pauses and Taehyung can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest with impatience. “How can I explain this to you? How can I make you understand?” Sungwon chuckles, as if sharing an inside joke with himself. 

“I can understand perfectly well,” Taehyung says defensively. This had come up before. Taehyung had never been to college. Sungwon had, and Taehyung often felt that his boyfriend held the difference in education over his head. 

“Of course you can, baby. You know, there are things out in this big, scary world that go beyond our ability for reasonable explanation.” 

“Yeah, sure?” Taehyung responds. He’s not sure where Sungwon is going with this, but then again, Sungwon has always had a flair for the dramatic. 

“There are big, scary things in this big, scary world,” Sungwon says solemnly, glancing between Taehyung’s eyes. “Like me.” 

Taehyung laughs. “What are you talking about? You’re not big and scary! Well maybe not scary.” But Sungwon is looking back at him with a dark look in his eyes, and the laugh quickly stills in his throat. “What are you talking about?” he repeats, this time quieter. 

“You don’t know who I am. What I am.” 

This time Taehyung doesn’t fight him. He just watches on with wide eyes. 

“Some people call me a monster.” 

Taehyung’s brow furrows. A cold shiver runs down his spine. He wants to protest, tell the man who has kissed him, held him and whispered sweet words into his ear that he can’t be a monster; but there’s something sitting there behind the statement. A truth behind the words. Sungwon believes it and it shines in his eyes like a twisted sparkle that makes Taehyung pause before objecting. 

“I have a particular taste.” 

Taehyung looks around the spacious and luxurious penthouse that they’re currently lounging in. An expensive taste? That much is obvious. But Sungwon seems to be alluding to something else, speaking between the lines. 

“Spit it out,” Taehyung says. 

Sungwon shakes his head and smiles a little smile. “The closest we have in Korean is the Kumiho—but that isn’t right. I’m not a fox, nor am I woman.” Sungwon seems to get lost in his head. “I suppose we do have the myth now as the west influences our culture. There are many names for what I am. Vampire might be the closest, though even that is not entirely correct.” 

Taehyung just blinks back at him. He bursts out laughing. “Is this some kind of joke? Some kind of Twilight, Edward impression? Babe, if you wanted to roleplay, you could have just told me.”

Sungwon doesn’t smile back. He grips Taehyung by the shoulders and he stills beneath his hold. 

“I’m not joking here, Taehyung.” 

Taehyung’s gaze flickers between Sungwon’s eyes. There’s something cold, hard, in them, something that Taehyung has only seen in fleeting moments–blips– before. 

“Oh. Oh.” Taehyung’s head spins. “You’re a fucking vampire? What the fuck, Sungwon?”

“Not a vampire—but sure, use that word. I thought you might have overreacted to this information.” Sungwon rolls his eyes and shifts closer to his boyfriend, his hands still on his shoulders. 

“I’m overreacting? I’m overreacting?” Taehyung’s hands flail by his sides, and Sungwon’s hands brush down his arms to still the movement, to calm him, to provide some reassurance, but Taehyung is not reassured. He shakes off Sungwon’s hold and tries to stand but Sungwon pulls him back down. 

“This doesn’t change anything, Taehyung,” Sungwon says, looking deep into his eyes. “Well it changes one thing.” 

“It changes everything, Sungwon,” Taehyung whispers. “It changes everything.” 

“No, really, it only changes one thing.” He waits for Taehyung to say something, but when he doesn’t, he continues. “It changes what you are to me.” 

Taehyung stops squirming. He looks Sungwon in the eye and Sungwon is as serious as day. 

“What I am to you?” Not who, but what. 

Taehyung understands immediately. 

“It’s only natural,” Sungwon grins, and moves closer to Taehyung, pinning him against the armrest of the couch. His hand slides up Taehyung’s thigh. “I wanted to tell you as soon as I met you—how sweet you smell, how delectable.” Sungwon’s tongue ghosts over his lips, like he’s tasting the air. “But of course, I didn’t want you running off like a scared little mouse.” 

“You—you want to eat me?!” Taehyung gasps, pushing against Sungwon’s chest. But he doesn’t budge. Taehyung just squirms in his seat, but he’s pinned down. 

“It sounds so undomesticated when you put it that way. I just want to taste you. I want us to be closer to each other in this way.” 

“Closer?” He doesn’t want to know how much closer they can be, or what kind of closeness Sungwon is talking about. His mind whirls through the possibilities and all of them leave him feeling sick and dizzy. It disgusts him. 

“Of course. In my world , there’s nothing like the bond between a sanguisuge and his pet.” Sungwon had always called Taehyung his pet, but now the word takes on an entirely different meaning, and Taehyung feels a tightness around his neck like there’s an invisible collar that was tied around him the first time Sungwon whispered the term, a whisper that created a leash and has tied Taehyung to him. “There’s a special thing that happens when a man lets his lover feed from him. A kind of bond. Unbreakable. You’d be mine.”

 “Yours?” 

This is what Taehyung has been waiting for since he met Sungwon. That moment of commitment. That promise of ensuring stability. Knowing that someone who cares for him, who can support him, is going to be there for him forever. But no, no, this is all wrong. This isn't how he pictured it. It was supposed to be filled with love and this–this is not love.

Sungwon is staring him down with a raw hunger in his eyes, and his grip on Taehyung is tighter than it’s ever been, so tight Taehyung is sure it will leave a bruise.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Taehyung whispers. 

“I don’t usually wait this long,” Sungwon explains. “But you’re special. You’re different from the others.” 

“The others?” he asks, his voice cracking. 

Sungwon chuckles darkly, brushing Taehyung’s bangs with a long finger, watching as they fall back into place. Taehyung can feel the other man trace a line down his cheek and jaw until he stops, both aware that Sungwon can feel the quickened heartbeat under his finger. Taehyung shudders.“You must know there were others. You don’t think I went my whole life with no one before you?” He laughs, and Taehyung tenses at the sound. “You’re special, but you’re not the only one.” The words ache, despite the fear that’s building like bile in Taehyung’s throat. “But with you—” Sungwon leans close and lets his lips ghost against the column of his lover’s neck. “I wanted to make sure you were ready. That you were willing. It’s not easy being who I am. It’s not pretty being who I am. I needed to know I had your loyalty.”

“My loyalty?” It all sounds like a sick game to Taehyung, who looks back on the previous year with Sungwon with a sense of nausea. All those touches, kisses, words whispered between them in secret in public and then louder and moaned while in private; memories begin to build like a stack of blocks built by a child, ready to fall and crumble at any moment.

As Sungwon’s hand drifts down Taehyung’s torso, going to cup the younger through his pants, a flash of heat spikes through Taehyung’s body and he pushes Sungwon away. 

“Who the hell do you think you are?!” he cries, standing on shaky legs, but standing nonetheless. “I don’t want to be your fucking adult vampire juice box, Sungwon!” 

Sungwon laughs, a cold and dark sound that sends splinters through Taehyung’s bravery. “Never heard it put that way,” he says before he reaches for the glass of whiskey that he had poured for Taehyung and has sat still on the table.

“That’s what I’ve always liked about you,” he says languidly, his words slipping around the room like the cool liquid slips around the inside of the glass. “You always have such a unique perspective on things. An adult vampire juice box,” he repeats with a chuckle before he holds the glass out for Taehyung with a nod indicating for Taehyung to rejoin him. 

Taehyung stares at the glass as it reflects bits of light from around the room. A quick and horrible taste fills his mouth as he realizes complaints that Sungwon has made about food and drink. Complaints of blandness, of missing flavor. The taste builds to panic as he realizes that Sungwon has been giving him puzzle pieces over the last year, waiting for him to put everything together. 

“I won’t do it! I won’t!” Taehyung backs up, moving towards the door. Sungwon stands and walks calmly towards him, holding his hands out. 

“You’re just in shock. We don’t have to do anything tonight. I know you need some time to adjust, to come to understand—” 

“Fuck adjusting, fuck understanding!” Taehyung cries, shaking his head. He reaches behind him for the door, and presses down on it. It doesn’t budge. He twirls around, tugging desperately on it, to no avail. 

It’s then that a pair of strong hands grabs his shoulders and spins him around, pressing him firmly against the wood of the door. Sungwon slides closer, pressing his body up against Taehyung’s. How is it possible that he looks taller? That the height difference Taehyung always liked now feels terrifying. This is what a mouse must feel like when caught between predator and wall.  

Taehyung is sure that Sungwon is going to hurt him, that he’s going to do something horrible. 

But instead, Sungwon’s hands drift lightly over Taehyung’s waist, his fingers teasing beneath the fabric of his shirt. He can’t help the goosebumps that rise to the surface of his skin. 

“Baby, don’t you know the doors always lock around here?” Sungwon whispers against Taehyung’s neck. “Don’t you know I don’t like my playthings running out on me before I’m done with them?”

“I’ll leave you—” Taehyung stutters out, his breath coming quickly, his hands shaking. “I’ll leave you and you’ll never see me again.” 

“Except you have nowhere to go, little one," Sungwon says, tilting Taehyung's chin up to meet his gaze. "I run this entire city." 

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© sugalaritae and wwilloww 2022 Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

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MEETING FATE HALFWAY

Averting his gaze from the man in the store who seems to keep looking at him, he distracts himself by counting the flickering light again.  

“A bit annoying isn’t it?” the man asks and points up to the light, his eyes going wide as he looks up, his mouth opening just a little. Taehyung can’t help but notice how young the man suddenly looks as he gives a little blink with each flicker like he’s trying to decipher the code himself.. Taehyung’s gaze follows and then he shrugs. 

“Yeah.”

The man looks back down and at Taehyung, blinking a few times to clear his sight. Taehyung knows that he’s seeing the bright line, engraved in his vision, just like Taehyung and it must be brighter as he was staring at the light longer than Taehyung was. 

“If you just unscrew it a little but keep it in there it won’t flicker but the bulb beside it will stay lit,” the man says and Taehyung smiles. Twice he’s helped him out without needing to, even though this could only be considered advice, it’s advice that Taehyung thinks he might take. Maybe as soon as Sungwon is gone, he’ll get onto the counter and try it. 

“Just be careful you don’t fall,” the man says as if he’s reading Taehyung’s mind. 

“Oh,” Taehyung says, caught off guard. 

“Might be better if you have someone to help you. Why don’t we do it now?” 

Taehyung glances to the back of the store where Sungwon’s office is. Sungwon wouldn’t like him getting on the counter when a customer could walk in at any moment. But then again, it’s his job to man the store, which includes fixing random bits and pieces here and there. So Taehyung nods, and begins to scramble onto the counter. 

He jolts when a pair of hands come down on his hips. 

“I’ve got you,” the man says. “You won’t fall. Not under my watch.” The man cracks a smile and Taehyung’s cheeks redden. He quickly returns to the job at hand, doing his best not to be blinded by the glaring light. 

“There, done,” Taehyung says. But the man doesn’t take his hands off of Taehyung’s hips. “I’m done,” he repeats. 

“Oh. Sorry.” 

The man almost looks like he’s blushing. 

“Taehyung.” 

The cold voice that echoes from the other side of the shop makes Taehyung stumble. But he’s held up by a strong set of hands and quickly rights himself, brushing down his apron before looking at the source of the voice. Sungwon stands in his office doorway, arms crossed.