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Silver snapped shut around San's throat. That was the last thing he was aware before his injuries, without the powers of his healing, plummeted him into unconsciousness.
Something hot, thick, and metallic hit San's tongue, and before he knew it, that same substance was on his lips, and further back, reaching his throat. It dragged him into a half-consciousness.
Pain had been his companion even while asleep, but now it knew he was waking up, and it leaped upon him, tearing into him in dozens of places. Some of the wounds he was reminded of were so deep that the damaged muscles only knew how to feel fatigue, a fatigue so intense that it ached worse than anything he'd ever felt before. The urge to groan and scream warred with the instinct that something vile was about to choke him. He tried to writhe but something restrained him. He only managed to splutter before bruising fingers clamped his nostrils shut, and he was forced to swallow or choke. He still choked on some of it, but much of the substance went down, awaking nausea in him.
Nausea gave way to feeling like he'd swallowed needles, and then the pain spread out in burning, stinging tingles, pulsing through his veins. Fatigued aches became fire.
San's face was released as he thrashed, and screamed. His eyes shot open, his vision all pounding, hazy shadows. There was a form before him, someone crouched over him. There wasn't much he could make out—shoulder-length hair framing a long face; a thin frame that blended into the shadows; and glowing, red, asymmetrical eyes—before San ceased to exist. Only utter torment lived where a person had once been.
Ice cold water like the deeps of winter splashed down on San, dragging him from an exhausted sleep. Wakefulness crashed down upon him, his heart racing, entire body shivering. San sat up with a cry, memories that had sat, waiting for this moment, slammed upon him, not quite in order: the quick brutality of the ambush, red eyes above him in the dark, blood being dripped into his mouth, the collar.
The collar!
In a frenzy, eyes wide, terror blinding him to his surroundings, San tried to reach for the weight along his throat, hoping this wasn't real. It couldn't be!
Chains snapped taut, and he couldn't move.
"Relax," a dry voice snapped. "If he wanted you dead, you'd be dead already."
San tried to breathe, to take in his surroundings. The small, dark, stone cell he was met with wasn't that surprising. There were no windows for even a little light to filter through, the only light from a small lamp in the hallway ceiling, and it was maybe only a couple watts.
The only reason San had any light to see by was because the metal door at the far end of the room stood open, a man of average height standing there with a bucket that still dripped water. A glint of red eyes looked him over.
He approached, a shadow in the dark. San forced himself to remain still, to not uselessly fight. Clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering, he raised his chin.
"Jung's gonna have fun with you, you arrogant bastard."
"You're sure you won't give me the opportunity to look more presentable before I'm taken to your glorious leader?"
San took a moment to pointedly eye his ripped and blood-stained jeans, and the tatters of his cream-colored shirt. Or, it had been cream-colored before the ambush. Now it was mostly reds and pinks. Hopefully that blood was all his own, but he couldn't quite remember who else in his pack might have gotten injured. Or worse.
Taken with hot, tight worry, San hardly noticed as his manacles were unlocked, and a chain leash was attached to his collar.
"Nope," the man responded. "Too much of a risk. Though your blood seriously stinks."
"Thanks."
San tried to make it sound like he was accepting a compliment, but his voice was dragged out in a sudden cry as the man hauled on the leash to get him to his feet. Unsteady from fatigue and unable to catch his balance from the constant tug against his neck, San stumbled, tripping over his own feet. The fact one of his shoelaces was untied didn't help the matter.
"Come on," the man growled, clearly impatient with him.
Out of anger, San grabbed the leash and tugged. Immediately, something slammed into his face, and he was on his knees, facing the wall that had previously been to his left. His cheek stung, and he tasted blood. San barely had time to spit out the blood welling up from the side of his cheek, pain just starting to throb along his face, before he was dragged to his feet. His head rang slightly from the blow, but he stumbled after his tormentor.
Jung's property was so large San didn't see another soul as he was led up out of his cell. He was met with stark, austere halls and stairs, all of light gray stone. Stone became marble floors and rich, wood-paneled walls, decorations beginning to crop up more and more till San found himself brought to a halt outside a wooden door surprisingly in traditional fashion. The man knocked. San didn't bother noticing more than a harsh, chiseled jawline, and dark hair on him, skin pale like glazed pottery, before his attention went back to the door.
Cold fear kept San's shoulders hiked up, muscles that had been through the wringer tense and aching. The collar kept making him feel like he was about to choke, but he worried what wrath touching it would incur, so he tugged at his ruined shirt instead. His hands trembled.
They were commanded to enter, the rough voice inside audible to San's werewolf ears (the silver didn't block out everything, some aspects of his genetics much more innate than others).
The man opened the door, and San couldn't help but growl with indignation as he was roughly tugged inside, the collar seriously beginning to chafe his neck. San was met with the interior of an office, most of the wood a red so dark it was nearly a deep brown. A massive black desk of polished wood was before him, two plush, velvet chairs sitting across from a large leather one. It was empty, the man this whole property belonged to sitting on the desk, seemingly entranced by the lighter in his hand. San was shoved into a chair, and the leash passed over.
"Go," Jung Wooyoung ordered.
The man who had taken San here didn't question the order, simply bowed and left.
No one knew how old Jung Wooyoung was. Supposedly, he was young as far as vampires went, but he could be decades, or centuries old for all San knew. Jung Wooyoung wasn't just an enemy of San's family; he was a villain, the kind who blatantly got away with murder by paying off all the right people. These days it seemed practically everyone was in his pocket.
For months he'd been circling San, planning attacks, traps, ambushes, but always withdrawing his forces even when he seemed to have the upper hand. San had grown so used to it he still found himself surprised he'd been captured, to find himself before the vampire he'd only ever seen glimpses of.
Jung Wooyoung appeared to be around San's age, thinly built but strong (even if one took out the vampirism), the curve of muscles visible beneath his well-cut black suit. For some reason, being this close, San couldn't stop studying him, like he was spellbound. His silk shirt was unbuttoned down to his abdomen, and necklaces of white gems adorned his throat, trailing down his collarbones to his chest, dangling silver and white in his left ear. Yet (unfortunately) no jewels seemed to compare to his face framed by shoulder-length black, and blond hair. The steep angle of his jaw paired with his plush lips; the curve to his nose; his unreasonably attractive, high cheekbones; and his nearly-straight brows gave him a boyish charm. Well, that was until someone really looked, and saw that his charming eyes were a blood red, and that his skin had a pale, inhuman sheen to it.
His chest didn't move, giving San the impression that he was looking upon a living statue as Wooyoung studied the flame before him. Orange light reflected in his eyes like light through a glass of wine.
"Fire is so fascinating, isn't it?" he asked, chest moving so he could speak, his voice lower and rougher than one would expect with that face.
San frowned.
"Excuse me?"
Wooyoung went on as if San hadn't said anything, waving the lighter before his own face, eyes following, "So beautiful, so tempting. And so powerful. Did you know humans evolved to be as they are now because of fire? You see, once humans discovered it, they could cook their meat. And then, no more need for jaws to take up most of their skull, making room for a larger and larger brain. They didn't need to spend all their time chewing their food either. Humans began to do more than just survive. They began to live.
"So fire's even responsible for you and me. After all I was a human so many years ago, and you're, what, some kind of half breed born of bestiality?"
San crossed his arms. He scoffed, but otherwise didn't rise to the obvious taunt.
Wooyoung suddenly leaned in close, lighter perhaps only an inch from San's face. San tried to back away, but Wooyoung wrapped the leash around his hand, pulling him tight. His heart raced more than it ever had in his life with fire in Wooyoung's hands this close to his face. That and there was nowhere else to look, Wooyoung making himself San's whole world.
"Mm, and yet, it can kill, destroy. Even I, immortal, impervious to hurt and the one, true death, can fall to fire."
San flinched as Wooyoung flicked the lighter shut with a click. Finally, he looked at San, their eyes meeting. And he smiled—a smile that was far cuter than it had any right to be.
"Welcome, Choi San."
"I've had warmer welcomes."
"Mm, careful," he crooned, flicking open the lighter, waving it under his nose. "I can always raise the heat."
"What do you want with me?" San asked. "You could've captured me weeks ago."
Jung Wooyoung's forces grew faster than that of San's pack, seeing as Wooyoung was content to bite as many as he needed to raise his numbers. His pack hadn't always been outright enemies of Wooyoung's. They'd simply stumbled into this war by trying to save lives, to do the right thing. Now here San was, members of his pack possibly dead, and he had no idea if rescue was even possible, or if he was worth it.
"Months," Wooyoung corrected.
San frowned, and Wooyoung simply raised an eyebrow, daring him to challenge the fact he'd presented. A chill ran through him, and he inhaled, having to close his eyes to block out where he was for several seconds.
"Then why not do it before?" San asked, forcing himself to open his eyes, knowing he'd be met with Wooyoung's face. "Why now?"
Wooyoung leaned back, San gasping, soaking up the space between them even as a strange part of him disliked it.
Wooyoung's smile turned into a smirk.
"Maybe I like to play with my food."
For a moment, he opened his mouth, top lip pulling back to show his too-white fangs. He ran his tongue over them. San couldn't look away.
Suddenly, Wooyoung rattled San's leash, and San grabbed the chain in a tight fist, snarling.
The laugh Wooyoung let out was the only thing his vampiric nature hadn't seemed to touch. Some would call the rough sound imperfect.
San called it human.
Wooyoung looked him over, assessing.
"I see my blood healed you despite you being related to a beast."
San almost stood up at the provocation, even though he'd heard it all before.
"I would've preferred to heal my normal way, thank you very much."
"Oh, I know. But what a perfect time to see if my blood works on werewolves, huh? Though it looks like you could use some more. Got on Kwan's bad side?"
"Does he have any other side?" he muttered, figuring Kwan was the man who had brought him to Wooyoung. Despite San's face throbbing he'd prefer that over the blood, so he added, "And it was just one punch. I've healed from worse."
"Don't want to accept my gift? It's okay, you know," he breathed, leaning in close. "You can't turn into a vampire, to the best of my knowledge. But there are… other things I can do with you." His last words were said as his fingers all but stroked the chain.
Something dark came into Wooyoung's eyes. San should have been afraid, but he instead found himself captivated.
"For one," Wooyoung said, voice rougher, San leaning in of his own accord, "I want to see if my venom works on you."
"Am I just meant to be your plaything?"
"Would it be so bad if that were the truth?"
Part of San was almost glad for the silver collar. He hadn't lost control of himself since his early teen years, but the way his heart raced left him hot all over, some innate urge making him want to go for the throat. It didn't help that Wooyoung did have such a pretty throat. Heated images of pressing his lips to it, his hands in Wooyoung's hair, left him panting. All hot the way he was it was difficult to remember pain, or fear, or the murders. There was just Wooyoung, and suddenly, that didn't seem so bad.
Trying to recollect himself, San's brows drew down.
"Don't I… Don't I smell bad to you?"
"Hmm, not really. Not to me. And I've been dying to know how you taste."
The way he smiled, baring his teeth, left San breathless.
"And I think you want the same thing."
Maybe it was all part of the pretty glamour of the predator Wooyoung was, but San did want the same thing. His body nearly ached from how badly it wanted to turn, how much he wanted this vampire despite everything.
Wooyoung pulled on the leash, till he could murmur in San's ear, "Your eyes are glowing. Blue. So interesting. Have you killed innocents, then, Choi San?" When San didn't answer save for a low growl, Wooyoung went on, "And I think your claws would be ripping up my nice furniture if not for your pretty collar."
San couldn't help the growl he let out. An mmph came from Wooyoung at that.
"Want to see if my venom works on werewolves?" he asked. "I think it will. What do you think?
Strange he was even asking, but San was glad for it. He knew all about Wooyoung's venom, that it was in his saliva, how it could seep into the skin, and leave the victim feeling euphoric, drugged. It was a mechanism for rendering prey helpless, much in the same way San's first instinct was to go for the ankles or legs of his prey. And right now, he couldn't help the image popping into his head, of his hands on Wooyoung's thighs, holding him down. To do what? He wasn't quite sure (though that might have been a lie).
"I… Why?"
"You're just so beautiful," Wooyoung whispered in his ear, breath cold, and tingling.
"Am I really your prisoner?"
"Do you want to be?"
Slowly, unable to help himself, San reached out, placing his hand on Wooyoung's knee. He was cold even through his clothes, a balm to the raging heat in San's body. Wooyoung, the being who didn't need to breathe, inhaled.
"Will you be my fire?" he asked, leaving the lighter aside to put a hand to the side of San's neck, making him shiver.
"Do you know what you'll be unleashing?" San asked, unable to help the slight smile growing on his face.
"I think I can handle you."
"Oh, are you sure?"
"How about we find out?"
"You might regret that."
"I won't."
Wooyoung laughed before the tip of his tongue touched San's ear, trailing upward. The pleasure of the touch had him inhale forcefully, running his hand up Wooyoung's leg to squeeze his strong thigh. And then, suddenly, euphoria built in him, starting as tingles, before becoming blazing fire, seeping through his whole body. San moaned, muscles going slack, and the low laugh Wooyoung let out certainly didn't help.
San gave up on any pretense of pretending he wasn't into Wooyoung. He reached for him with both hands, one running along the exposed skin of his chest, so smooth, so cold, and he suddenly needed him like he needed air. Wooyoung sucked on his ear, till San grabbed his throat, and pulled him back, just as he turned his head.
Their lips met, pleasure tingling through San, leaving him hot, wanting Wooyoung till he couldn't think straight. His pleasure only heightened as they kissed, as Wooyoung tried deepening the kiss. They fought about whose tongue was in whose mouth—his saliva only making San hotter and hotter till he was desperate, moaning. He shivered at the sting as Wooyoung tasted the raw spot on the inside of his cheek from where it had been pushed against his teeth when he was punched only minutes before. He held his face, keeping San close, moaning from the taste of his blood.
Wooyoung didn't need to pull away to breathe, and seemed to forget San would need that, and he kissed him till San was dizzy. When he finally gave San a break, he was gasping, eyes opening to look at the vampire he wanted so badly. His beautiful lips were surprisingly kiss-swollen, and their noses brushed together, San wanting more of him. What he really wanted was to take him apart, the urge making a growl come from the back of his throat.
Despite the collar, the leash Wooyoung still held, San stood. Wooyoung shoved him like San was a helpless doll. He surged up again, fighting against him, Wooyoung smiling all the while. San managed to get the upper hand, standing, settling between Wooyoung's pretty thighs. Before San knew it, Wooyoung's jacket was off, San tugging his shirt from his pants, and racing to undo the buttons on his shirt.
Frustrated, he ripped, tearing several buttons off, and they clattered onto the desk or the floor.
"That was expensive," Wooyoung growled.
"Don't care."
When Wooyoung pressed his hips up against San he realized they were both hard. San tilted his head back at the burning, aching surge of pleasure, the way need thrummed in his entire body.
He should have recognized that was a bad idea, but he was too high, too lost in Wooyoung.
In less than a second, Wooyoung's teeth were digging into his neck. San screamed, hands clutching Wooyoung till a human would have bruised. A strange, animalistic moan left Wooyoung, shuddering through San. He tried to tear Wooyoung off, and Wooyoung ended up shoving against his face to keep him still, other hand still on his leash.
San nearly started begging when Wooyoung released him, groaning as he licked at the wounds he'd made. He managed to tug Wooyoung back, and then it was his turn to bite, snarling as his teeth latched onto that lovely throat. He didn't need to aim, didn't need to worry about killing or turning him. Now it was Wooyoung's turn to scream, and oh, what a pretty sound it was. His legs tightened around San, hips working up against him till San swore he was losing his mind.
He needed Wooyoung so badly that he couldn't even think. Before he knew it, both their shirts were off, hopelessly torn from how frantic they were. San kissed now, enjoying his freezing skin against the fire burning through him. Even though it wouldn't leave a mark, he sucked against Wooyoung's collarbones, listening to him moan. Wooyoung let go of the leash to hold San with both cold hands. Nails scraped along his shoulder-blades, the back of his neck, his scalp.
Wooyoung tilted San's chin up to his mouth, San tasting his own blood on Wooyoung's lips. He was too high to care, just needing to enjoy him. Satisfaction flashed all hot through him as he got a tongue in Wooyoung's mouth, making him gasp. Wooyoung was good, letting San have his victory, and keeping his mouth open, not biting, as San carefully ran his tongue over Wooyoung's fangs. A thrill shot through him at the danger he was in, and he wanted more.
San grabbed him by the throat, and Wooyoung did the same. A sharp stinging spread through San's neck as Wooyoung touched where he'd bitten, and he pulled back to grunt.
"Didn't know you wanted me so badly," Wooyoung said.
It was entirely unfair that he wasn't panting, yet San also enjoyed the possible challenge this set before him.
"You talk too much," San growled.
Then, with a joyful laugh, Wooyoung suddenly grabbed San's right arm, and bit into his bicep. San screamed, and before he knew it, was trying to rip Wooyoung off of him. He succeeded, only for Wooyoung to sink his teeth into his forearm and wrist.
San tore him off with a hand squeezing his throat. Wooyoung didn't need to breathe, but he still used his throat to talk, so only strangled sounds came out when he attempted to. There was a smile on his bloodied lips, like he wanted San to be overpowering him like this. Well, he didn't have a problem with that.
His bite had only made more saliva seep into him, straight into his bloodstream, and all San could think about was getting in between Wooyoung's legs, and fucking him on his desk till he was the one screaming. Wooyoung bared his bloodied fangs at him, red eyes a hot contrast to his cold body. In answer, San snarled in his face. Even with silver around his throat, he felt his teeth become fangs. A deep moan left Wooyoung at that. He lowered his head to try and bite him again. San grabbed his chin and jaw, shoving till he got him lying on his back on the desk.
San enjoyed all the cold skin he ran his hand over, the freezing arms wrapping around him and holding him close. The way Wooyoung arched his back, hips pressing against him with need left San throbbing, and throbbing. Shit, he needed him so bad, and he hated whoever had invented fucking pants.
Wooyoung was good, letting San tear at his belt and the stupid button on his pants, lifting his legs for him to drag them off. San was too needy to take in much beside the fact that Wooyoung was gorgeous, and he was hard for him without any effect of venom.
He moaned, back arching, as San ran a hand down him till he grasped his cock, pumping him like he was trying to hurt him. Hunger burned in him, and he kissed along all that beautiful, pale skin. Wooyoung whimpered as he took turns sucking on each nipple. His cock throbbed, releasing precum. Hunger tugged at San's gut. He didn't bother going slow with sucking Wooyoung's cock into his mouth, and wasn't sure he even knew how to be slow about this at the moment. His entire body seemed bursting with pleasure, and it was impossible to not want him.
Another delightful whimper left Wooyoung as he sucked him in deep. He writhed, San having to let go of his throat to hold his hips down.
"Oh, San, fuck." He laughed. "I would've captured you weeks ago if I knew you could suck cock like this."
San flipped him off, but didn't pause in sucking and bobbing his head, getting him in deeper, Wooyoung becoming all he was. He somehow tasted so good—perhaps yet another factor to lure in prey.
This was also a mistake as Wooyoung grasped his hand, and bit his finger. He didn't bite as hard as he had with his arm, but enough to make San accidentally bite him in return. Wooyoung didn't seem to mind, groaning, hips working into his mouth.
When San managed to cope with Wooyoung's bite, he pulled off of his cock to ask, "Did that even hurt you?"
Raising one eyebrow, a smugness on his face that San wanted to destroy, he said, "Not really. But oh, it felt so good."
Testing this, San took him back in, biting gently, scraping his teeth along the head of his cock. Wooyoung shuddered, lying back, crying out, legs opening.
San sucked and bit till he couldn't breathe and his throat ached, his eyes watering, face a mess of saliva. He pulled off of him, gasping, head spinning. Not giving him a chance to catch his breath, Wooyoung grabbed his leash and dragged him into a kiss. The tugging at his collar left his neck sore, but oh, how he loved it. And he was happy to get more of Wooyoung's venom. His fangs teased at San's bottom lip, and he gasped, wanting him to bite him, fully his like his venom decreed.
His fangs dug in a little, the pain exquisite, the taste of his own blood becoming delicious to him.
Impatient, needy, San ripped open his jeans, letting them fall to the floor and kicking them aside. He stepped out of his socks and shoes in a hurry, untied laces tangling together. When he kicked them they landed somewhere under Wooyoung's desk.
Thank god Wooyoung was a vampire, because San figured he could take him as he was, without preparation, without lube. His need for him left him barely able to think, just needing bare skin on bare skin, even if it burned a little.
Wooyoung tilted his head back, whimpering, as San lined himself up with him, exposing that gorgeous throat again. San didn't wait, pressing in. Having so much cold around his cock was a shock, but he was too turned on for it to be a problem, and rather found the sensations delicious in a way he'd never experienced before.
"You gonna fuck me, San?"
"Shut up," he growled, burying himself in him despite how tight he felt.
Wooyoung whimpered, chest heaving as if he remembered humanity.
"Does that hurt?"
"Yes. Fuck me."
San listened to Wooyoung, listened to the high of his venom, and thrusted in hard and fast, till he was buried in him, and burning. Wooyoung was a whimpering mess, and he pulled San down, their lips meeting once more. Holding onto his ass, San took him as hard as his high told him to, feeling like he was going to die from how good he felt, from how fucking tight Wooyoung was around him.
The sounds of their bodies meeting was as intoxicating as Wooyoung's grunts, and whimpers, as intoxicating as the venom he kept giving to him like candy. Every battle of their tongues left him higher and higher, entire body lost in him, and more of the wolf came out with every second, till San was biting Wooyoung's shoulder to hold him down till he was done with him. Each cry had him bite harder and harder. Wooyoung managed to bite his ear, San crying out around him. The harder he took him, the more pliant Wooyoung became. He had his head thrown back, and he was begging, and begging, and San's hands were everywhere he could touch, all over his body.
Wooyoung met San's hard thrusts, both of them moving at an inhuman pace that surely would've damaged anyone not of the supernatural. The desk, frustratingly, couldn't handle it, sliding across the floor.
Frustrated, San pulled out of him, picked him up, and shoved him face first against the wall. This way he couldn't bite him as easily. Wooyoung tried to fight him, and San held him down, Wooyoung laughing and panting with excitement.
With a growl, San thrusted back in, Wooyoung still tight even with how well he was fucking him. He had one hand on his hip, the other against his head to keep him in place. Wooyoung cried out as San resumed his brutal pace. Instinct had him biting the back of Wooyoung's neck, keeping him where he was until San was done with him. He needed him more, and more. He wrapped his arms around him, and Wooyoung sank his teeth into his forearm, whimpering and whimpering.
Fucking him nice and good had pleasure searing through his cock, plunging up into his stomach, and down his thighs, and he needed more, more, Wooyoung so lovely and tight around him. His entire body was gorgeous, and San was ravenous for it, arrested by the same urges he fought every full moon. He gave in, doing his best to tear Wooyoung apart.
Wooyoung's cries grew louder, louder, till he released San to swear, and beg.
"Oh, fuck!"
Wooyoung suddenly contracted around him, writhing to the best of his ability. San wrapped a hand around his cock, pumping him through his orgasm. His other hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing. Deep pleasure spread through San's chest, a primal satisfaction that he'd gotten Wooyoung off.
In seconds he was following him, teeth digging into the back of his neck as he slammed into him as fast as he could, using his tight, little body to milk his cock. He shuddered as Wooyoung grew wet from his cum, San spilling into him, and still thrusting, so it ran down the both of them.
Wooyoung all but sobbed as San squeezed and tugged hard at his cock, and thrusted in one final time.
Slowly, San's high began to fade. The hurts that had been inflicted upon him seeped in, along with the taste of his own blood in his mouth. Where bites had been numb or had created pleasure, there was only pain. San released Wooyoung to press his head against his shoulder, though his hands caressed his body as if they had a mind of their own.
"Shit, you really know how to fuck," Wooyoung laughed out.
He turned around, and held San's face.
"Here, baby, let me make it all better."
With a knowing grin, he pulled San into a kiss. San sank into it, muscles relaxing, pain numbing, pleasure moving in again. Thankfully it wasn't the high of needing to get off this time. He just felt… good.
Wooyoung's fingers danced along his collar, and when he pulled back, he sucked on his bottom lip, perhaps at San's blood still on it.
"I'm almost thinking of taking this pretty thing off. Would you be good for me?"
Not sure if his feelings were from the venom, or were perhaps his own, San still didn't hesitate as he said, "Let's find out."
Wooyoung undid the latch that the power of silver had kept San from undoing.
His collar dropped to the floor with a clanking and rattling of metal and a heavy thud.
San moved in on Wooyoung, determined to be his fire.