Archive of Our Own ^beta

Taehyung had been acting strange. Well. Maybe. Stranger than usual, in Yoongi’s opinion.

He didn’t notice it at first–too used to Taehyung bouncing from member to member with his latest hobbies and interests. It didn’t strike Yoongi at all that it was unusual Taehyung wasn’t spending as much time around him. His time would come again–it always did.

Color him surprised when Seokjin gave him a stern look one morning as he was making his bed, “Are you going to talk to him?”

Yoongi rolled over in his blanket cocoon, peeking out at his forever roommate through a slit at the top that allowed him to see. And breathe, I guess. 

“Which him?” his voice rasped.

Seokjin’s brows furrowed as though the answer should be obvious, “Taehyung-ah, of course.”

Yoongi rolled onto his back, giving the ceiling a long and hard look. His head was fuzzy and the back of his throat felt dry. It must be time to eat again. Despite Seokjin’s best efforts, it still felt like a bit of a chore. If he didn’t keep to his schedule, it was hard for him to notice the early stages of hunger at all–his body had grown too used to a drought. 

“What did he do?”

Seokjin sighed, dropping the comforter onto his bed. The sound made Yoongi cringe–like he was being reprimanded.

“He’s been. . .” Seokjin paused as though in thought, “Do you think he’s eating more than normal?”

The words were rushed, almost as though he were worried Yoongi wouldn’t want to hear them. Yoongi wasn’t sure if he was supposed to care. Yes, he still had hang ups over eating, but it never bothered him that Taehyung had more of an appetite than him.

He shrugged, “Has he been?”

“Maybe not,” Seokjin sighed, picking up where he left off at straightening his bed, “He’s been quiet, though, and that makes me worry.”

☾

Yoongi couldn’t fault Taehyung for being quiet. Quiet was nice–especially after the year they’d had. Even with a reduced schedule, exhaustion ripped through him. Perhaps it was the onslaught of news channels that debated whether people like he and Taehyung had rights still ongoing even if the government was now providing blood stipends.

Seokjin and the others tried to shield them from it, but it was inescapable–especially when the media knew about them.

He saw his and Taehyung’s picture on the cover of many of the news stories online–not leaving people to wonder about a faceless vampire population, but actual real people.  Familiar names.

It wasn’t just them. Namjoon’s face popped up from time to time–though the media was still confused when it came to dhampirs–and several other celebrities that had come out or been exposed. Despite no evidence of any of them causing public harm, it didn’t stop them from zooming in on their faces, looking for a glimpse of fangs or something otherwise non-human about them.

No matter what the others did, it didn’t stop the media from following them on their light schedules–didn’t stop them from camping outside their dorm when they managed to slip past security. Didn’t stop them from zooming in on their living room window or photographing them as they walked to the company van.

Yoongi was quiet by nature, but it was enough to make anyone in their position want to clam up entirely, even from those they trusted. No matter how much care in the world Jin, Hobi, Jimin, and Jungkook bestowed on them, none of them would understand to the full extent what they were going through.

But Yoongi watched Taehyung all the same. Just in case Jin’s fears were correct.

After dinner one night, Taehyung yawned, leaning back in his chair. Two pearly white fangs dropped down as he did so before he leaned forward, snapping his mouth shut with a distracted look in his eyes. 

With an unclear noise, he pushed away from the table and drifted almost silently down the hall, if not for the tell-tale sound of Jungkook’s door sliding close. It left the hair on the back of Yoongi’s neck to stand on end.

“Goodnight to you too,” Hoseok frowned at his retreating back.

“Give him a break,” Namjoon said, “He hasn’t been sleeping well lately.”

Jungkook nodded, shoving a bite of rice into his mouth.

Two empty bags of blood laid on Taehyung’s plate while the rest of them finished dinner. Yoongi scowled at them as he sipped at the remaining half of his own bag.

Jimin’s eyes flicked between Yoongi and Taehyung’s place, “Everything okay, hyung?”

Yoongi blinked, “Just hungry.”

It must have been believable enough as Yoongi brought his bag back to his lips with a slightly more determined sip because Jimin nodded with a knowing smile before turning back to his own meal.

Had Taehyung had two bags during their last meal? Was Seokjin right that he was eating more than usual? It wasn’t unusual to have more than normal if they had a particularly strenuous schedule, but the past few weeks had been light–hardly any dance practice to work on during their performance hiatus. 

He frowned as he tried to finish his meal, the blood beginning to curdle at the bottom of his stomach as he tried to figure out what was wrong. He struggled through the last few sips, forcing his fangs to stay down through the end. Maybe he should use a cup next time.

Taehyung had eaten just yesterday too, come to think of it. And the day before that. In fact, Yoongi couldn’t think of a time he’d seen him with less than two bags recently.

He knew Taehyung had a bigger appetite than him, but he couldn’t imagine consuming that much in such a short period of time.

“Thank you, hyung,” he murmured to Seokjin as he stood and pushed his chair into the table, despite the fact Seokjin hadn’t really done anything for his meal but display it on a plate.

He took off down the hall.

Pausing outside of Jungkook’s door, he felt his bones sag with uncertainty. Was it worth 

approaching Taehyung about? He wasn’t doing anything necessarily wrong, was he?

He lightly tapped at the door, resolving to leave him be for the night if he didn’t get an answer.

“I’m sleeping,” Taehyung’s decidedly not sleeping voice sounded through the door.

“It’s hyung,” Yoongi’s voice came out more quietly than Taehyung’s own, “Can I come in?”

“I don’t want to talk,” Taehyung’s voice sounded a bit muffled, raising alarm bells in Yoongi’s mind.

“Is there something we need to be talking about?” Yoongi questioned.

The voice on the other side of the door remained silent.

Yoongi leaned against the door with a frown, “I almost couldn’t eat tonight again.”

The room beyond was silent.

“It’s not that I don’t get hungry,” Yoongi said, hoping if he was open that Taehyung might be too, “I just. . .”

Min Yoongi, a killer?

Min Yoongi, BTS’ SUGA bites off a project bigger than he can chew?

SUGA of BTS, bloodthirsty for success

“I just,” Yoongi paused, trying not to think about the new landscape around them that was quickly becoming haunting, “Understand what you’re going through. Better than most. If. . .if you want to talk.”

There was a light stirring in Jungkook’s room.

“Or we could just sit,” Yoongi continued, “If you don’t want to talk about it. Hyung wants to be there for you.”

There was a shuffling sound before the door slid open, revealing a puffier-faced Taehyung than Yoongi was used to seeing.

His eyes weren’t red like he’d been crying, but he looked exhausted. There was a sleeping mat on the ground beside Jungkook’s bed and a small canvas basket full of. . .odd plastic and leathery objects. 

Yoongi scowled at the idea of learning either of the two maknaes kinks. He didn’t want to know.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Taehyung’s face flushed, looking at where Yoongi’s gaze fell. His words were clipped, something about them still not sounding quite right even if it were the shame of the situation causing it.

“I don’t want to know,” Yoongi said.

“It’s just. . .it’s not that,”  Taehyung insisted, “They’re dog toys.”

“Taehyung, like I said, I don’t want to–”

Taehyung’s face was redder than a cherry, “Not like that either, hyung–not like that at all. ” 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Yoongi cleared his throat, “With some things it’s best hyung doesn’t know.”

“I’m just,” Taehyung stairs at the ground, his toes digging into the carpet, “I’m trying to talk, hyung.”

Yoongi felt his face scrunch up. He really didn’t want to know what Taehyung and Jungkook were doing with a basket full of chewed up looking dog toys when there were no dogs to be found in their dorm, but he didn’t want to silence Taehyung if he was willing to come clean about what was going on.

Taehyung looked uncertain, resting against Jungkook’s bed as he chewed his bottom lip. It looked raw and chapped, as though he’d been doing that a lot lately. Behind his lips, Yoongi could make out two shiny stubs of fangs.

Despite how they were present at dinner, Yoongi hadn’t given them very much thought. He personally liked to look at his own fangs as little as possible. They didn’t look like him still, even if they had been for nearly eight years now. Denial and avoidance of mirrors was an interesting thing at times.

They seemed odd on Taehyung too, though Yoongi thought he made a better vampire than him.

It didn’t change how there were still times that Yoongi felt like Taehyung’s turning was his own fault, no matter how much he knew that wasn’t the case. It didn’t change how he felt it was a fate no one deserved, no matter how much the others proved and showed to him that his identity was just as valid as any other.

Yoongi was tired. A different sort of tired than before. He couldn’t wait until the storm blew over and the world moved onto something else. He couldn’t wait until a time when his name wasn’t akin to ‘monster’ in the headlines.

He didn’t want Taehyung to feel that same sort of exhaustion.

“They’re mine,” Taehyung whispered, fangs more prominent in the low lighting of Jungkook’s room than they were before. He kept them inside his mouth when he wasn’t speaking, his words only slightly slurred, unlike Yoongi who struggled to keep them from slicing his lips and slurring every word he spoke when they were extended.

Yoongi shuddered and wondered who Taehyung believed he assumed they belonged to. He still really didn’t want to know.

“It’s okay,” Yoongi tried, “You can. . .have dog toys.”

A small noise of exasperation formed at the back of Taehyung’s throat and his eyes grew watery.

“They just. . .hurt. So much,” his voice was shaky as he looked up at Yoongi with big, brown eyes, “I don’t know how you do it, hyung.”

Yoongi felt his brow furrow. He certainly didn’t own dog toys. At least, not ones that were here in the dorm. Any dog toys bought under his credit card were back home with Holly.

He certainly didn’t understand being in pain because of dog toys.

“Is this why you’ve been quiet lately?” he tried, “Your hyungs have noticed.”

Taehyung curled in on himself, fully sitting on the edge of Jungkook’s bed. He gave a slight nod.

“I can’t help it,” his voice shook, “They always come out. They always hurt.”

Yoongi’s mouth ran dry and he thought he understood.

“It’s not that I’m always hungry,” Taehyung croaked, “It’s just. . .”

“Different,” Yoongi finished.

“Yeah,” Taehyung said, meeting Yoongi’s eyes, “It’s different.”

“Is it your teeth or is it. . .” Yoongi tried to imagine exactly how the dog toys came into play. He’d never had the need to chew on anything per se, but his own transition into vampirism has been without much flair.

“Is it your gums?” Yoongi continued.

Taehyung looked lost for a moment.

“It all hurts,” he mumbled, “It doesn’t stop hurting and I feel like. . .if I could just. . .”

“Bite something?” Yoongi finished.

“Yeah,” Taehyung nodded, “That it would go away.”

Yoongi eyed the basket of hard toys.

“Biting those doesn’t work,” he said. It was a statement now. He felt like he was getting closer to the truth.

Taehyung’s eyes were wide and large as he looked at Yoongi, baring a sense of vulnerability that Yoongi wasn’t used to seeing from him. Taehyung was normally very open to them, but this was a topic that took a lot of trust and a lot of faith.

“It doesn’t,” he affirmed.

Yoongi stepped awkwardly into the room.

“Can I sit?” he nodded to the bed where Taehyung was resting.

Taehyung scooted over a bit, Jungkook’s comforter bunching up around him.

Yoongi sat down, Taehyung’s skin radiating a small amount of warmth–likely from the large meals he had been consuming. Yoongi shivered a bit at the knowledge he still had the coldest blood in the dorm.

“What if you bite me instead?” his skin crawled with the suggestion–not looking forward to the sensation. Taehyung had bit him once before and it had hurt, but if anything would help him, it would be a real bite. Just like they were biologically made to do.

Yoongi felt the same pain from time to time, when the venom in the glands behind his fangs built up and required release. Normally he would bite into a pillow or his own arm if it got too bad, but the puffiness around Taehyung’s eyes and lips didn’t lie. He’d gone without a release for too long.

Maybe Yoongi shouldn’t have assumed Taehyung knew everything, even if he was naturally better equipped to be a vampire than him.

He couldn’t know everything. Yoongi shouldn’t expect him to.

“Why would I bite you?” Taehyung’s eyes looked panicked and his nose scrunched the slightest bit. Yoongi knew better than anyone how terrifying it was to let their nature take control like that. He also knew how rank and vile other vampire blood was to other vampires.

“It will help,” Yoongi said, “I promise. Have you told any of the others?”

He knew there was a chance any of the other members would offer to help Taehyung. It had been awhile since it was necessary for any of them to donate–and while they didn’t normally choose biting as a method of feeding, Yoongi knew any one of them would be willing to help if they understood the situation.

Taehyung shook his head.

“What does Jungkook think of the dog toys?” Yoongi scrunched his brows, glancing at the canvas basket.

Taehyung gave a weak shrug, “I don’t know.”

“You’ve been sleeping in here and gnawing on dog toys for the past week and he hasn’t asked?” Yoongi asked, incredulously.

“Wasn’t his business,” Taehyung mumbled, even though it was enough of his business to let Taehyung sleep on his floor. Then again, Jungkook had always been weak for his hyungs like that.

Yoongi sighed.

“Just bite me, Tae,” he said, “I promise it will help. More than the toys will.”

Taehyung squirmed, “But. . .”

“Just this once.”

Taehyung blinked, “But I bit you back in November–”

“That was different,” Yoongi’s veins ran cold as he remembered how lost they both were then. How lost he was with a fledgling cradled in his arms, hungry and battered, “Just this once, bite me, okay? Hyung will help you feel better and keep this from happening again, Tae-ah.”

Taehyung squirmed where he was nestled against Yoongi. He hadn’t realized how close they’d become, but some form of instinct must have been driving Tae closer, even if it wasn’t other vampires they were biologically conditioned to require. His teeth must have hurt enough.

God, with as many months as they’d been drinking from government issued bags, Taehyung’s venom glands must be far more backed up than Yoongi ever let his become.

“It’s okay, Tae,” Yoongi brought a hand to Taehyung’s back to rub soft circles between his shoulder, “You can let go. Bite me.”

Taehyung took a shuddering breath, a small sound against Yoongi’s ear before he plunged his fangs into Yoongi’s neck.

Yoongi winced, the pinpricks sending a small radiation of pain pulsating through his upper body where Taehyung’s fangs connected. A small trickle of blood ran down his chest, but there was no blood exchanged.

Taehyung’s body relaxed, caving in on Yoongi with relief as he let his fangs rest. They moved a little, making Yoongi cringe, but the way Taehyung’s warmth fell against him was pleasant. It felt right knowing he was making him feel better. That the pain that throbbed behind his lips would finally recede. That his dongsaeng could go back to his life without the throbbing sensation that was the need to bite.

“That’s it,” Yoongi whispered into his ear, “You’re doing so good, Tae. Hyung’s so proud of you.”

Taehyung whined, his teeth pulling free of Yoongi as he leaned back. His eyes were dark and blown even though he hadn’t drank, Yoongi’s blood staining his mouth. He looked broken and relieved at the same time, dark red circles ringing his eyes from exhausting nights.

Yoongi would teach him. Yoongi would make sure there was no stone left unturned in making sure Taehyung was comfortable. That Taehyung knew enough to understand his new body as they moved forward.

But for now, he stayed silent, moving instead to pull Taehyung closer. 

He fell against Yoongi’s chest, almost as weak as when Yoongi held him moments ago, fangs buried into his neck. This was softer though, the stiffness of feeding gone from his muscles as he fully slumped into Yoongi, fresh tears on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Yoongi’s voice was barely above a whisper, “You’re okay. Hyung’s always here to take care of you too.”

Taehyung might have been looking out for him before, but it was Yoongi’s turn to return the favor.