Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Heeseung thinks they’re okay. Or maybe that’s just his own hope talking. Sunghoon and Jungwon still fight, but less often now—and never where anyone can here. Afterwards, Heeseung often finds them with their backs to each other, pinkies linked. Although, Heeseung wasn’t sure if that was for their own sake or because they were terrified Sunoo would follow through on whatever threat he had made.

Riki’s scars had faded, a light pink rather than the jagged lines he’d come home with. He was getting better every day, too, mastering in a matter of weeks something that took Heeseung years. He learned the patterns of their hearts, able to tell who was approaching just by the sound if it beating. It was endearing, when he’d greet them before he’d even saw them, or how he’d check in when one of them was anxious. But that also meant lying to him was becoming a near impossible task. 

He was getting anxious too, fidgeting constantly, taking glances at the door, like he was desperate to get out. Heeseung couldn’t even blame him, honestly, he was getting restless too, he couldn’t even imagine what Riki was feeling with everything heightened.

Heeseung’s hand was already on the knob before he realized how much he needed the air.

“Where are you going?”

Heeseung paused with his hand on the front door knob. Riki was lying on the couch in the living room, his phone held over his head, soft sounds emitting from the speaker.

“I have to run a few errands, I’ll be back soon.”

Riki perked up slightly, “To where?”

Heeseung sighed, already knowing where this was headed, “Into the city.”

“Can I…come with?”

“It’s still too soon. We don’t know how well of a handle you have on your control right now. You could hurt someone.” 

Riki’s face fell, and before Heeseung knew what he was doing, he found himself kneeling by the couch, one hand resting on Riki’s in apology.

“But you’ll be there.”

Heeseung dropped his hand to pinch his nose between his index finger and thumb, “Riki…”

“Please, hyung?” 

When Heeseung looked up, Riki was already looking at him with big, pleading eyes. Heeseung cursed, pulling away. He could feel the tension in Riki’s body, the barely contained buzz of excitement; he knew he had already won.

“Fine.”

Riki was up in a blur, racing up the stairs and reappearing in a completely different outfit: dark, baggy jeans, a white t-shirt, and a leather jacket. Simple, but it suited him. Heeseung cursed himself again, bringing his fist up to knock against his forehead lightly in retribution. But he couldn’t truly feel remorse. Not when Riki looked more alive than he had in weeks.

He reached for the doorknob, probably prepared to rip it open, but Heeseung gently pulled his hand away. Riki shot him a confused look, and Heeseung rolled his eyes, “Ground rules—“

Riki groaned.

“Ground rules,” He repeated, “Number one: You stay by me. Don’t wander off: if you want to go somewhere in particular, tell me.” He waited until Riki nodded, “Number two: Tell me immediately if something feels off; if your throat starts to burn, if you feel hungry, etc. Got it?”

“What happens when I tell you?”

Heeseung looked at him sideways, “We go home.”

Riki’s mouth dropped open, “What? Hyung, that’s not fair!” 

Heeseung held up a finger, “That’s the deal. You could hurt someone. And don’t even think about not telling me. I can hear your heartbeat and monitor your breathing. I’ll know either way, but I’ll be more upset if you don’t tell me.”

Riki finally seemed to relent, but Heeseung thinks it was because of the threat of him possibly hurting someone. “Number three: if you tell Jungwon—“ he paused, “or Jay about this, you’re a dead man. Understood?” 

Riki laughed, bright and loud, and all of Heeseung’s previous reservations melted away. He reached for Riki under the pretense of fixing his clothes. Instead, he lightly rubbed his scent over Riki’s neck, jacket, and shirt. He tugged Riki closer, fingers smoothing along his collar — light enough to be casual, firm enough to leave a trace. Riki tensed lightly, but didn’t move. His eyes flicked to Heeseung’s, unreadable—but he didn’t pull away.

“Thank you.” 

Heeseung looked up in surprise, his hand pausing on the collar of Riki’s jacket, “Anytime.” He whispered, before pulling back. He nodded towards the door, and Riki looked at him again, as if asking for permission. Heeseung smiled, nodded, and Riki practically tore the door off its hinges in his haste to leave. 

Heeseung chuckled, closing the door behind him as he stepped through, “Hey! What did I say about wandering off? That was rule number one!”

***

To say that Riki was excited would have been the understatement of the century. He was practically bouncing off the train walls, his eyes wide and darting in every direction like he was trying to commit everything to memory.

Heeseung laid a hand on his knee, “Take a breath; we’re gonna be here for a while, no need to move so quickly.” 

He watched Riki force himself to relax slightly, his movements and breathing slowing just enough. Heeseung half thought that Riki would be out of his seat when the train doors opened, vanishing into the crowd with Heeseung chasing behind him. Instead, he waited with much more patience than Heeseung knew he wanted to use, waiting until Heeseung had stepped out of the train car first before following. 

“I have to get a few things, but once I’m done we can do whatever you want until we have to go back. Okay?”

Riki nodded, and Heeseung pulled him a few streets down, turning into an area set up like a market—people—vampires—clambered about, purchasing, exchanging, conversing. Riki hesitated a little, his excitement dulling when the smell of vampires overpowered that of the humans. He shifted slightly, like he was hiding Heeseung behind himself. Heeseung frowned, slipping his hand into Riki’s and tugging him down to talk directly in his ear.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He ran his thumb over Riki’s knuckles. “There aren’t any humans here, so you can stray a little farther but still stick close, okay? I want to be able to grab you if you need me.”

Riki took a deep breath, then pulled him into a quick hug, a rapid, thank you, thank you, thank you falling from his lips. Heeseung hummed, and Riki pulled away, walking through the crowds. Heeseung watched for a moment. The crowd seemed to part for him, the vampires around him wrinkled their noses slightly, keeping a respectable distance, not that Riki seemed to notice. 

Heeseung grinned, making his way over to a stand. Small cartoon drawings of blood bags adorned the front, and a girl sat behind it, her feet kicked up.

She looked up as he approached, a small smile spreading as she stood up to bow slightly, “Mr. Lee, haven’t seen you here in a while.”

Heeseung wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Lira, I beg you, don't call me that.”

Lira laughed, sitting back down, “Fine. What can I get for you, Heeseung?”

“Can I get four of everything but six AB positives please?” 

Lira started pulling bags out of coolers and filling small plastic bags with the blood types requested. She placed them on the table, and Heeseung handed her his card. “How’s Doyoung?”

“He’s good. Been going a little crazy, but he’s good.”

Heeseung accepted his card back once she slid it over, “Not because of you or the others, I hope?”

Lira chuckled, but it felt strained, and Heeseung tensed, automatically searching for Riki in the crowd. His heartbeat was easy to find, calm, if a little fast. “No, no. It’s not us, it’s…”

Heeseung leaned in almost against his will. But Lira seemed to snap out of her trance, clearing her throat, “It’s nothing. Nothing to worry about.”

Heeseung placed his bags back on the table. Something about her tone, the way she was holding herself—it was fear. She was scared. And he needed to know why.

“Lira? What’s going on?”

She gnawed at her bottom lip until it came back slick with blood. “It’s…it’s the council.” Now she had Heeseung's full attention, “They’re tightening laws on blood access.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re trying to restrict where we can get our blood, trying to make some ways illegal.”

Heeseung pulled back as if slapped, “But blood banks, blood drives…those are all donors. Where are they trying to restrict it to?”

Lira looked up at him, “I don’t know, Doyoung won’t tell us anything. But—I saw his files on his desk.” She leaned in to ensure no one else overheard, “They’re trying to pass a law so we can only get blood directly from them. They’ll be able to track how much, when, and who purchases more than others.” 

Heeseung blinked, “Why?”

Lira shrugged, but there was a tiny tremor to her hands as she pushed his bags back towards him, “I don’t know, but I do know that if they control the blood supply, they control us,” Lira said quietly, “Even the ones who don’t want to believe it. Keep your eyes peeled. Things are changing, so look out for your coven; they’ll need you.”

Heeseung could feel a similar shake to his hands as he gathered the bags from her, “Always. Take care of your own.” He murmured.

She momentarily looked him in the eye, searching before grabbing his hand and repeating, “Always.”

He turned away, suddenly desperate to escape the secrets and uncertainties as quickly as possible. His hand burned from where Lira touched him, from where she had slipped something into his palm. He shoved it into his pocket, but all it did was burn a hole through it. 

He drifted from stall to stall, never really focusing beyond the words that rattled around in his head, like a brand. If they control the blood supply, they control us. He’d have to decide later whether or not to tell Jungwon. All he could do now was watch Riki laugh across the square and pretend things weren’t already changing.

He paused in front of a stall. All the surfaces were covered in jewelry, and Heeseung was already handing over his card before he knew what he was doing. 

“Hyung!” 

Heeseung startled, nearly smacking his head against the top of the stall. 

“Hyung!” Riki bounded closer, holding something in his hand. “Can I get this?”

Heeseung willed his heart not to leap out of his throat as he peered over at what Riki held in his hands. It was some sort of pink, glittery monstrosity on a stick, and Heeseung looked back up at Riki, “You want a strawberry-flavored lollipop?”

“It’s shaped like a paw print,” Riki said, as if it explained everything.

Heeseung sighed, already pulling out his wallet, “Where did you find it?”

Riki grinned, leading him to an animal-themed stall. Similar lollipops of different colors littered the area, and Heeseung recognized all the generic flavors one would see in human candy. The only difference is that they were sorted by blood type. He looked at the cashier, a younger vampire whose hair was dyed a vibrant purple color. “What is the ratio of blood to flavor?” He asked.

“The one he’s holding is fifty-fifty.”

Heeseung pursed his lips, scanning the lollipops, “Do you have anything closer to eighty-twenty or ninety-ten?” The cashier nodded, turning around to get the requested lollipops.

Riki tugged on Heeseung’s sleeve, a question written all over his face. Heeseung leaned in, “You can’t have too much human food yet; it’ll make you sick. We can start trying to get you used to it if you want but when we do we’ll have to soak it in blood so you can digest it. For now, ratios like eighty-twenty or ninety-ten are best.”

The cashier presented them with a different tray labeled with the ratios Heeseung requested, and Riki’s hand shot out, grabbing another strawberry under A-positive. Heeseung made a noise in the back of his throat, taking it from Riki and exchanging it for a strawberry-flavored lollipop with O-negative. 

“You don’t like A-positive.” He said by way of explanation.

Riki blinked at him, “I don’t?”

Heeseung shook his head, already paying for the lollipop and two others in flavors he knew Riki liked, “You make a weird face, like a grimace, every time you taste it. You’re more like Jungwon; he likes O-negative too.”

Riki stayed silent, staring at Heeseung with something akin to awe as he thanked the cashier. Heeseung looked at him sideways, “What?”

Riki’s face flushed slightly, and Heeseung regarded him curiously. “Nothing.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, placing his hand on the small of Riki’s back as he led them further through the crowd, “So do you want to try?”

“Try what?”

Heeseung unwrapped the lollipop, handing it to him. “Getting accustomed to human food again?”

“Oh, yes, please.”

“Okay,” Heeseung said, “I’ll talk to Jay, he—”

“—does the cooking.” Riki finished with a small smile. Heeseung looked at him with surprise. “Jungwon-hyung told me.”

“Oh. Well, yeah.” He scratched the back of his head. “Do you have any recipes you really like? Something we can try to infuse with blood? Any favorite foods?” When Riki nodded, Heeseung grinned, “Okay, great, send me the basic recipes, I’ll get the groceries for it.”

Riki whipped around. “They sell human food here?”

Heeseung laughed, “They sell everything here. That’s why everyone loves it.” His phone buzzed with the requested foods, and Heeseung started pulling away, “Stay where I can see you.” He said as farewell before disappearing to find the groceries needed. 

He hadn’t been gone very long—maybe a handful of minutes—but evidently, it had been long enough. He didn’t see the man at first, just Riki, twirling the lollipop between his fingers, looking at it like it somehow held all the answers to the universe behind its artificial color and glitter. He was standing at a new stall cluttered with obnoxiously bright stuffed animals—supposed mythical creatures, animals of legend, all ridiculously overpriced.

Then Heeseung saw him. Someone clearly in Riki’s space. Someone close. Too close not to smell the warning that saturated his clothes and skin. So they had to be ignoring it. Intentionally.

Some irrational part of Heeseung wanted to tear his head clean from his neck—but he had put too much time and effort into calm Heeseung. Under control, Heeseung.

He pushed through the crowd again, ears trained on the exchange.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” The older vampire asked.

“Sorry,” Riki responded, voice polite but clipped. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Oh yeah?” The stranger smiled, gaze flicking lazily over him. “Someone important?”

Heeseung stopped a few feet away and set all the grocery bags he’d collected on a nearby table. “He is.”

Both vampires turned to look at him, but Heeseung only had eyes for Riki. He crooked a finger. “Come here.”

Riki moved toward him instinctively, and as soon as he was within reach, Heeseung rested a hand at the back of his neck. Casual, to anyone watching. Protective, to anyone who knew.

“Hyung?” Riki asked softly.

Heeseung didn’t answer right away. He just thumbed gently at the nape of his neck, then said—not asked—“Drink.”

Riki blinked. “What?”

“I’m not risking your control. Not here. Better to beat it while we’re ahead.”

It wasn’t a lie, exactly. But it wasn’t the truth either.

When Riki hesitated, Heeseung’s hand drifted higher, brushing just under his ear, guiding. “Don’t think. Just take.”

Riki stepped closer, hands settling on Heeseung’s waist, slow and unsure. But Heeseung didn’t move. His head tipped to the side, throat exposed, deliberate, open. Not the wrist. Not the forearm. The neck was for family. For lovers. For coven. 

When Riki’s mouth closed over his skin, Heeseung exhaled—not because of the pain. It didn’t hurt, not really. He hummed quietly, reaching up to tug on the strand of Riki’s hair absentmindedly, his head tilting further back to allow for more room. Riki shuffled closer, dragging him in, and Heeseung blinked through the hazy fog of pleasure that clouded his mind, twisting his other hand in Riki’s shirt for something to hold on to. 

The entire square went quiet. Conversations stuttered, then stopped entirely. Curious eyes turned toward them. The man who’d approached Riki took a step back, expression shifting from intrigue to recognition. There were rules about possession. About what kind of bite marked what kind of bond. And there was no mistaking what this one was.

Riki was claimed.

Heeseung let it continue just long enough to leave no room for doubt. Then he touched Riki’s jaw, gently guiding him back. A single drop of blood clung to the corner of Riki’s mouth, and Heeseung wiped it away with his thumb, then pressed it past Riki’s lips.

“You good?” he asked, voice low and quiet, just for Riki.

Riki nodded, dazed. “Yeah.”

Heeseung resisted the urge to laugh. “Good. Eat your lollipop.”

It was almost comical how quickly Riki obeyed, candy slipping between his lips like he was trying to pretend nothing had happened. Heeseung turned to the stranger, smile sharp and pointed.

“We’ll be going now.”

He didn’t wait for a response—just gathered the bags and took Riki’s hand, tugging him away from the square.

Riki seemed relatively calm as Heeseung pulled him through the streets. He didn’t pull away or resist; his heartbeat and breathing sounded steady. But Heeseung didn’t like how quiet he was—Riki wasn’t usually quiet. So he tugged him into an alleyway, away from the noise and press of people.

“You still good?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Riki’s breathing quickened, like the air had thinned around them.

“Hey. What’s wrong?”

Riki didn’t answer. His eyes darted over the brick walls, hands starting to tremble in Heeseung’s grasp. A slight, choked sound slipped past his lips—like he was trying not to cry.

Heeseung stepped back instinctively, scanning for injuries he might’ve missed, but Riki’s hand shot out, gripping him tighter, refusing to let go.

Heeseung dropped his bags immediately and cupped Riki’s face in both hands. “Riki? Talk to me. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

A single tear tracked down Riki’s cheek, catching on Heeseung’s fingers.

“I have to get out,” he whispered. “Please.”

Heeseung’s stomach twisted. He couldn’t take him home—not like this. Not where the others would see him unraveling. That left only one place.

“Okay. Okay.” He grabbed Riki’s hand and led him back into the crowd, moving fast.

When they reached their destination and Heeseung shut the door behind them, Riki had only worsened. His eyes were wide and wild now, tears slipping down one after another. He was gasping like he couldn’t catch his breath.

It took Heeseung a beat too long to understand what was happening.

Panic attack. 

Heeseung cursed under his breath. Should he call Jay? Maybe Sunghoon? Riki let out a choked sob, and Heeseung pulled him towards the old couch near the window, setting him down. Riki started to curl into himself the moment he let go, hands in his hair, knees drawing in.

“Hey. Hey.” Heeseung murmured, sinking in front of him. “I’m going to try something, okay? Just—”

He eased Riki back and followed, carefully climbing on top of him—not crushing, but anchoring. His weight pressed down slowly, a steady, warm pressure. He touched their foreheads, one arm wrapped under Riki’s shoulders and the other over his chest, feeling every shaky breath.

“Breathe with me, alright?” he whispered, keeping his voice low and even. “You’re safe. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Riki’s breath hitched, but his hands twitched, like he wasn’t sure whether to push Heeseung away or pull him closer.

Heeseung stayed exactly where he was. “I got you.”

For a long moment, Riki didn’t respond. Then—slowly, painfully—his breathing began to change. Less ragged. Deeper. His fingers gripped the fabric of Heeseung’s shirt. 

Heeseung waited until Riki murmured, voice raw, “I’m okay.”

Slowly, he eased back, pulling Riki up with him. His face was tear-stained and red, but his heart was no longer beating out of his chest, and his breathing had synced up with Heeseung's, calm, deep. Heeseung pulled away, just enough to reach into one of his bags, pulling out a blood bag. He handed it to Riki silently, watching the other as he began to sip from it quietly. Riki was still shaking, small tremors racked through his body like aftershocks.

Heeseung kept his touch light, constant, running his hand through Riki’s hair, keeping their thighs pressed together, and tracing small shapes onto the side of his throat. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked quietly, unwilling to break the small spout of peace that had settled over them.

Riki tensed under his touch, “The alleyway.” Was all he said.

Heeseung blinked, “What about it?” He pressed.

“It looked like—it reminded me of—that night.”

Heeseung paused his ministrations, pursing his lips. “That night?” He repeated, almost to himself. Then it hit him; Riki’s first kill. The alleyway. It must have been a trigger. He pulled Riki closer, “You know that wasn’t your fault.”

Riki tipped his head back to rest against the back of the couch, “It doesn’t matter though, does it? If I meant it or not? Because he’s still dead. And I still killed him.”

Heeseung let the words sit between them for a second, not rushing to correct, not trying to fix. Just being there.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “You did. He’s dead.”

Riki flinched, just slightly like he’d expected Heeseung to deny it.

“But that doesn’t mean you wanted it,” Heeseung continued. “Or that you meant for it to happen. You were starving. You were scared. And no one told you what to do.”

Riki looked at him sideways, eyes red, lashes stuck together from tears. “That doesn’t make it better.”

“No,” Heeseung agreed. “But it makes you human.”

“I’m not,” Riki said flatly.

Heeseung leaned forward, brushing his thumb along Riki’s jaw. “You’re more human than half the people I know. You feel guilt. You care. You didn’t turn cold after it happened. You still remember.”

Riki didn’t answer. Just looked down at the now-empty blood bag in his hands.

“I remember mine,” Heeseung added, quieter now. “Sunghoon remembers his, so does Jay. We all do.”

That got Riki’s attention. “Even Jungwon?”

Heeseung nodded. “Of course he does.” He paused, hesitating slightly before continuing, “When Jungwon turned he used to have night terrors. He would wake up in the middle of the night screaming. They were so bad that the only way he would sleep would be if we all were in the same room.”

Riki’s fingers curled around the plastic bag, crinkling it quietly. “His attacker?”

Heeseung looked at him in surprise, “Yeah. He dreamed about him every night. Then one night we took Jungwon out and saw him. It wasn’t actually him but they looked so similar that even I was second guessing if we actually had turned in the right guy.”

Riki cringed, and Heeseung rubbed his shoulder in apology. 

“Jungwon lost it, attacked the guy, didn’t even feed from him. Just—killed him.”

Riki was quiet for a long time. Then, voice hoarse, he asked, “What did Jungwon do after?”

Heeseung’s mouth twitched at the memory, not quite a frown. “Didn’t say a word. Not the whole way home. But when we got there, he just—he fell apart. Cried like he hadn’t cried in months.”

He paused, his hand still rubbing slow circles over Riki’s shoulder. “We stayed up with him all night. Jay held him in the nest, and Sunghoon just sat there. Didn’t talk. Didn’t move. Just sat with him, so he wouldn’t be alone in it.”

Riki’s throat bobbed with a silent swallow.

“That’s what we do,” Heeseung said softly. “We don’t forget. We don’t ignore it. But we carry it together.”

Another beat of silence.

“Do you hate me for it?” Riki whispered suddenly. “For killing him?”

Heeseung blinked, genuinely startled. “No.”

“But—”

“No.” Heeseung leaned in again, forehead brushing Riki’s temple. “We all have blood on our hands, Riki. You didn’t do anything we haven’t done. The only difference is, we got to mess up with people who understood. You didn’t.”

Riki blinked fast, trying to keep more tears from falling.

Heeseung’s hand slid down, pressing over Riki’s chest—right where his heart beat slow and steady now. “You’re not alone anymore.”

He waited, never entirely pulling away his touch but trying to give Riki enough room to breathe. Enough room to think. Then he asked, “Do you want to go home now?”

Riki shook his head, “Just…need a minute.”

“Take all the time you need.”

Riki stood up, as if he was just acknowledging his surroundings for the first time. His eyes drifted from the mirror that covered one of the walls to the instruments behind it. A piano, guitars. He ran his finger carefully over the neck of one, “Is this Jay-hyung’s?”

Heeseung nodded, following Riki with his eyes, “That was one of Jongseong’s firsts, probably one of his favorites.”

“Jungwon-hyung told me Jay likes to play the guitar.” His finger grazed the piano. “He also told me you play the piano.”

“Yeah? What else did Jungwon tell you?”

Riki hummed, eyes scanning over the pages and pages of music sheets and lyric sheets, all signed with their names. “Sunghoon-hyung ice skates.”

Heeseung couldn’t help the wistful fondness that slipped into his voice, “He’s beautiful.”

“Jake-hyung likes fishing and soccer. Sunoo-hyung’s good with hair and fashion.” Riki continued, moving from the piano, gently skimming his fingers over a microphone, moving from the piano. 

“And you like to dance.”

Riki’s head shot up.

Heeseung smiled, resting his head on his hands, “You’re not the only one Jungwon tells things to.”

Riki looked at him suspiciously, eyes narrowing just a little. “He told you about the company?”

“Mmhmm,” Heeseung said easily. “The one you were training at.”

Riki shifted his weight, shoulders tensing. “Why would he tell you about that?”

Heeseung’s voice stayed light, but sincere. “Because he asked me if we should look into finding you a dance school—or a team, academy, etc. If you wanted.”

Riki stared. “What does that mean?”

“It means you have options, I guess. I’ve heard about this really great dance school not far from here, we can check it out at some point if you’d like.” Heeseung picked at his nail, eyebrows furrowing for a moment as he thought, “Or–I guess–if you’re not into a dance school, there’s a bunch of good teams so it shouldn’t be hard to find you a spot or anything—”

“What? No–hyung–what does that mean for me…and the coven…?”

Heeseung shrugged, like it was no big deal, waving a hand at him like he was surprised that was his question. “It means you’re staying with us for a while.”

Riki blinked—like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. Like he was trying not to hope.

Heeseung stood, like a thought had just come to him, and crossed to the piano, letting his fingers trail across the keys. “Welcome, by the way,” he said casually. “This is our studio where we make music. Sometimes together, sometimes alone. It helps. With everything. With still feeling… like us.”

Riki looked around again, eyes lingering on the instruments, the lyrics, the scrawled handwriting that marked the space as theirs.

“You can use it too,” Heeseung added, offhand, before he could stop himself. “If you want. Dance. Write. Whatever. You don’t have to—but… yeah. At least until we find you a good studio or school—but even after that—you’re always welcome here.”

He glanced back at Riki, realizing what he’d just said.

Riki’s mouth parted slightly, but no words came out. He looked at Heeseung, soft and a little stunned, like someone had opened a door he hadn’t known he was allowed to walk through. “Do you mean that? You’re willing to do that?”

Heeseung watched him briefly, then said softly, “I don’t think you know how much we’re willing to do.”

Riki drifted further into the studio, slower now, like every step had become something careful, reverent. His fingers skimmed over a keyboard, the edge of a worn drum pad, a stack of dog-eared lyric sheets barely held together by a binder clip.

Heeseung stayed near the piano, watching him explore with the kind of quiet that didn’t demand anything. “That corner?” he nodded toward a battered whiteboard covered in messy handwriting. “That’s where Jay used to scribble ideas in the middle of the night. Half of them didn’t make sense the next morning.”

Riki stepped closer, reading faint traces of chords and stray phrases—a doodle of a cat in the corner.

Heeseung smiled. “Sunoo’s addition.”

Riki huffed—something between amusement and disbelief. His hand brushed the wall where posters were tacked up, some peeling, others carefully laminated.

“Jake decorated that half,” Heeseung offered. “Said it made the place feel like a real studio. You know, the kind with dreams.”

Riki paused before a Polaroid stuck between two sheets of handwritten music. He didn’t touch it, just stared. “This is… yours?”

Heeseung came up beside him. “That one? Yeah. First time I finished a full song without ripping it up.”

“You look younger,” Riki said, almost to himself.

“I was,” Heeseung said. Then, after a pause, “We all were.”

Riki turned, eyes flicking across the room like he saw the echoes now—their history tucked into every corner. “You really built all this?”

Heeseung gave a small smile. “We needed something that was ours. Something no one could take from us as we changed.”

Riki looked at him again, softer now. “And you’re just… letting me see it?”

“You’re already part of it,” Heeseung said simply. “Whether you realize it or not.”

Riki’s fingertips brushed a half-crumpled music sheet. He picked it up carefully, smoothing the edge where someone—probably Sunoo—had scribbled hearts across the margin. He turned it over in his hands.

“That one’s Sunghoon’s,” Heeseung said from the piano, not looking up. “He played it after rough nights. Said it helped clear his head.”

Riki hummed, barely audible, and crouched to glance through the rest—songs in all their handwriting, lyrics that read like journal entries. Private things, left out like offerings. He didn’t touch most of them. Just took it in: the studio, the memories, the warmth baked into the walls.

“It feels so lived in,” he murmured.

“Because it is,” Heeseung said. “We’ve spent so much time here.”

Riki turned like he might say something more, but the studio door banged open before he could.

Jay stood in the entryway, phone still glowing in his hand. His expression sharp with frustration and something beneath it—worry. “Seriously? We’ve been calling for forty minutes.”

Riki froze. The quiet broke like glass.

“Jungwon’s about to lose it,” Jay added, voice lower now that he’d really looked at them.

Heeseung didn’t flinch. Didn’t even lift his head fully. “Give us a minute.”

Jay’s mouth opened like he might argue—but he caught himself. He took in the piano, the soft light, and the way Riki stood, as if the floor had just shifted under him. He exhaled through his nose and nodded once.

Then he was gone. The door clicked shut behind him. The quiet returned, but not the same. It was thicker now. Tense.

“You good?” Heeseung asked softly, glancing over.

Riki nodded after a moment. “Was that about me?”

“No,” Heeseung said. Then, after a beat: “Not just you.”

He stepped away from the piano, reaching out to ruffle Riki’s hair. It felt like punctuation more than comfort. “C’mon. Let’s go home.”

He called Jay back inside, handing him a couple of bags and waving him off when he looked back at him questioningly. They walked with Riki between them to the train, then back to the house. Riki was dragging his feet, Heeseung could tell; he could feel the shift in the atmosphere, a tension he couldn’t find a cause for, but that didn’t make it any less real. 

Riki pulled ahead of them, spearheading the way back home. Heeseung didn’t even need to redirect him. He knew where to go. 

Jay bumped his shoulder. “Your neck?”

Heeseung brought a hand up curiously. His fingers brushed past two puncture marks, already scabbed over. “Oh.” He said, “Riki.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, “You let him feed from your neck? In the studio?”

“No.” Heeseung dropped his hand, “I had him feed from me in the square.”

Jay stopped walking abruptly. “In the square?” he echoed, voice tight with disbelief.

“Yeah.”

Jay stared, like he wasn’t sure if Heeseung was joking or insane.

Heeseung shrugged, reaching into his pocket to grab one of the spare lollipops he had purchased. “Riki, catch.” He tossed it to the other vampire, who looked at him with confusion.

“You bought lollipops?” Jay asked, “Glittery ones?”

Heeseung shrugged, “Riki wanted them.” Then he gestured to the candy, “Eat it. Jungwon can’t interrogate you if you’re eating.”

Riki laughed, placing the obnoxiously bright candy in his mouth. “Just in case?”

“You liked it so I thought I’d get it in a couple other types.” 

Riki turned around again, but his steps were lighter, reminding Heeseung of how carefree and happy he had been not even a few hours ago at the square. Jay’s fingers skimmed the side of Heeseung’s neck, and Heeseung startled.

“I thought I felt something through the bond.” He said, “But you know if I felt it, that means…”

Heeseung sighed, “Yeah, I know, I’m in for it.”

Riki waited for them at the front door, leaning against the side of the house. For a moment, they stood there, looking between the door and each other before Riki gave Jay a slight nudge.

“Jay-hyung, you go in first.”

Jay whipped around, “Me? What did I do? Heeseung’s the one in trouble.”

Riki shrugged, slotting himself behind Heeseung, like he was using them both as shields, “Yeah, but Heeseung-hyung’s nicer.” It was teasing and light, and it got exactly the reaction Heeseung thought it would.

Jay scoffed, “Yeah, okay, fine. You get one lollipop and suddenly you have favorites.” He pushed open the door, “No, it’s fine, I’ll remember this next time you ask me to make you something—” He froze.

Jungwon stood in the doorway, arms crossed, expression entirely blank. Jay slipped away to the kitchen, pulling the onlookers in with him. Jungwon’s gaze shifted from Heeseung to Riki, who was doing a terrible job of hiding behind him, and then back to Heeseung, settling there.  “What the hell were you thinking?”

Riki’s hands flexed on the back of Heeseung’s shirt. “I—”

“Not you. Him.” 

Heeseung flinched, “Wonnie—”

“You took him—an unmarked, untrained, fledgling—into the city. He could have hurt someone. If he hurt someone, that would’ve given the council full permission and right to eliminate him.” Jungwon started pacing, and Heeseung cringed with guilt, “Do you even realize what could’ve happened?”

“I’m sorry.” Heeseung said, but Jungwon didn’t seem to hear him; he was scratching at the nape of his neck, like he could pull the possibilities out through the base of his neck. 

“And then you had him feed from you in the square—the middle of the square—like we haven’t spent months hiding him?” Jungwon’s hands were clenched so tightly they shook, like he was holding himself together by force but just barely.

Riki cautiously approached him, “I didn’t hurt anyone.”

“But you could have!” Jungwon snapped. 

The atmosphere cracked, breaking open, and Riki stumbled back, like Jungwon had physically hit him. 

Heeseung stepped forward, pulling Riki behind him. “Jungwon.”

Jungwon ignored him, pacing the floor yet again, “You know better than this, hyung—”

Heeseung grabbed his wrist, hard enough for Jungwon to stop and look at him.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungwon tugged at his captured wrist. “Hyung—”

Heeseung’s fingers tightened. “Listen to me.” His voice lowered. “You can tear into me later. But we have a bigger problem.”

He hesitated, jaw working, eyes flicking to the door like he half-wished he hadn’t brought Riki out at all. Then: “The council is up to something.”

He almost regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth; Jungwon’s body locked up, every muscle tensing as if preparing for an attack at that very moment. 

His fingers twitched, then went still, bloodless. His voice, when it came, was thinner than usual. “I—fine. Meet me in the study.” Then he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall. 

Heeseung sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He turned to Riki, “Go find Jay.”

“But—”

“Riki, please.”

He didn’t know if Riki could feel his voice's desperation or the heaviness that followed Jungwon out of the room, but either way, he slowly backed into the kitchen. Heeseung stood there for a moment longer, contemplating how he should start. Did he really want to add more stress to Jungwon?

He groaned. Jungwon would have found out anyway. It would be better if they were prepared. He trudged down the hall, following the light scent he associated with Jungwon and the rapidly beating heart. 

Jungwon stood behind the desk, flipping through papers with frustration, as if trying to find something to keep his hands busy. He looked up when Heeseung entered the room. Immediately, he tensed, shoulders hiking up as if to protect him from an oncoming threat, and Heeseung’s heart ached. 

“Hyung—”

Heeseung crossed the room with a few quick strides, gathering Jungwon’s face in his hands. “I’m sorry. For stressing you out. For taking Riki without telling you. For making it a big public display. For adding to this.” He swiped his thumb under the dark circles of Jungwon’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Jungwon deflated, hands coming up to rest over Heeseung’s, “I know, I just–” He cut off, “What if something happened?”

“I won’t let anything happen to any of you. I promise; the council, no one, will be able to touch you.”

Jungwon pulled at Heeseung’s hands until he let go of his face. He twisted and untwisted their fingers together, staring down at their hands, “What about you?” 

Heeseung fought back a smile, “If you guys are safe, I’m happy.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes, “That’s not–whatever. What do you have to tell me?”

Heeseung hesitated but reached into the pocket he had tried to ignore all night. He unfolded it, handing it off to Jungwon, who looked at him suspiciously. “They’re restricting blood access. Or at least trying to.”

Jungwon blinked at the paper like he either had no idea what he was looking at or didn’t believe it. Heeseung held his breath until Jungwon’s hand came up to tug at his hair. “How long do we have?”

“I don’t know. Lira says everything is changing; Doyoung isn’t telling her anything though.”

Jungwon cracked an eye open, “Lira?”

Heeseung nodded, “Gray Coven, she’s who I usually go to for a blood run.”

“Okay, okay. So what do we do? Hyung, if they control the blood, they control us. I can’t have that.” Jungwon began pacing back and forth across the floor, stepping out of Heeseung’s reach whenever he tried to grab him. 

“I know–”

“What are we going to do? Should we start moving our supplies? Get other sources? Can we even do that without drawing too much attention?”

“Jungwon–”

“What about everyone else? What’s even the end goal? Why do they want to control the blood–”

“Jungwon!” Heeseung grasped Jungwon’s shoulders, turning him to face him.

Jungwon looked…small, afraid. His hair was in a total disarray, and tears clumped his eyelashes together, but they wouldn’t fall.

Jungwon swayed into him, forehead landing against Heeseung’s collarbone, his weight so heavy it felt like he might collapse. His hands trembled on Heeseung’s shoulder, “What the fuck are we going to do?”

The door to the study cracked open slowly, and Sunghoon peeked his head inside. Jungwon pulled away, one hand brushing briefly over Heeseung’s chest like an apology, and almost instantly, Heeseung missed his warmth, the familiar weight of his body.

When Jungwon spoke, his voice was clear of any tears, cracks, or anything Heeseung had witnessed just moments ago. “Is everything okay?” 

Sunghoon pushed open the door further, and Heeseung finally took notice of Jake and Sunoo, who stood on either side of him. “Riki’s with Jay; going over some possible recipes he wants to try.” He strolled into the room, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, and fell gracefully onto the sofa across from them. “Is there anything you want to tell us?”

Jungwon cocked his head, eyes roaming over Sunghoon’s faux relaxed form like he was a puzzle he wasn’t quite sure how to solve. “I don’t know what you’re talking about–”

“The Council’s trying to control when, where and how much blood we can get.” Heeseung said.

Jungwon whirled on him, voice sharp with betrayal. “Hyung—“

“They are as much a part of this as we are, whether you like it or not.”

Sunghoon blinked at them rapidly, like he was trying to digest it. “Is that even possible?” 

Jake and Sunoo drifted over to sit with Sunghoon, and Heeseung shifted to stand next to Jungwon, leaning back on his hands against the desk to face the three of them. Jake had a leg swung over Sunghoon’s lap, his body leaning into Sunoo’s side. He looked calm, almost relaxed.

“It is now.”

Sunoo leaned forward a bit, careful not to dislodge Jake fully. “Wait, slow down. What do you mean? They’re trying to control the blood supply?”

Heeseung looked sideways at Jungwon, who glared back at him. He nodded towards the desk where the crumpled piece of paper lay, and Jungwon huffed, snatching it and handing it to Sunoo. 

All three of them leaned towards the paper, and somewhere Heeseung heard a murmur of “Oh fuck.”

“Council Decree: Regulation 1146-B” Sunghoon read aloud, shooting a look at Heeseung, “All blood trade must be registered—wait—can they even do that?”

Jungwon groaned, “Apparently.”

“What is this?” Sunoo snatched the paper back from Sunghoon. Heeseung leaned over to read it with him, scanning the document again. The title was clear: Regulation and Distribution of Vampire Sustenance Resources. Underneath, spread out like a promise, a threat, lay four separate clauses:

1. All blood trade must be registered

2. Feeding permits will be required

3. Blood rations will be distributed via Council-approved centers

4. Feeding from unregistered donors is strictly forbidden.

Underneath each clause lay conditions, expansions on how it will work and when. Under clause one, it claimed that any and all independent acquisitions, such as markets, private farms, and donor networks, were prohibited unless licensed. Any unregistered blood distribution will be treated as contraband and dealt with accordingly. 

Clause two mentions that feeding permits will be required for all individual vampires and households; such permits will be required to be renewed monthly, and any feeding without one is worthy of arrest and punishable by the tribunal.

Blood rations and quotas will be assigned based on rank, age, and coven registration status. Any rogue or unregistered covens and vampires will receive no rations until pending evaluations. 

Donor identities must be logged and approved through Council channels. Failure to comply with registration is considered a capital offense and will be treated as such. 

When Heeseung looked up again, Sunghoon’s head was in his hands, and Jake was rubbing calm circles on the center of his back. “Feeding permits? Feeding permits? Can they even regulate in-coven feedings?”  

They all looked to Jungwon, who startled under their gazes, “I don’t know. I don’t know how it will work or how much it will go into effect. I saw this maybe ten minutes before you. I know next to nothing.” He looked uncomfortable as he said it. Being in the dark, not knowing what came next, had always been one of Jungwon’s biggest fears, something that would keep him up at all hours of the night. Unconsciously, Heeseung shifted until he could slip an arm around Jungwon’s waist, pulling him to lean against him. 

“Okay.” Sunoo said, leaning forward to brush his fingers over Jungwon’s wrist, “We’ll figure it out together.”

Jake’s hand stopped on Sunghoon’s back. “For now we need to figure out what we’re going to do regarding the rations and Riki.”

They all turned to him, “What are you talking about?”

Jake looked at them like they had several heads, “Riki? He’s unregistered. If these laws go into effect how are we going to feed him without them learning about him?”

Jake’s words hit like a slap. They hadn’t even thought of Riki, and Heeseung felt a pang of guilt. 

“They’re going to kill anyone who’s unregistered? Anyone who doesn’t follow their rules or their stupid fucking permits? They’re trying to isolate us. Force us to submit or starve.” Sunghoon shot up, pacing back and forth across the floor and giving Heeseung deja vu of Jungwon just moments before. 

“They can’t just take Riki, right? We can’t let them have him, he’s with us.” 

“I don’t know!”

“What does this mean for the rest of the vampires?”

They were all standing now, some pacing, others just shouting. Heeseung tensed. Their voices were rising, loud enough that he was sure it was carrying out of the room by now. He searched for Riki and Jay and found their hearts beating somewhere upstairs, in Jay’s room, he’s guessing. 

“Enough!” He snapped. “None of that is going to happen. Riki is going to stay with us. We are going to figure this out. But we can’t do that if we’re too panicked to think of a solution.”

The room stilled, and Jungwon took a stuttering breath. “We need to pull back from all public routes. Cut off half our donors. Secure our perimeters. I want a list of everyone we’ve ever trusted and how much blood we can survive on.”

Heeseung blinked back a headache, “Jungwon…”

“Jake-hyung, get me the numbers on the amount of blood we can survive on if we must. Heeseung-hyung you can handle the list; hopefully everyone will be too overwhelmed with the new laws to remember the public feeding with Riki.”

“Jungwon, stop; you’re moving too fast. We can’t do any of that without drawing too much attention; we’re too involved.” Heeseung reached out to touch him, but Jungwon flinched away. “And what about everyone else? If we succeed, fine, we get to live. But what about every other vampire? What about our friends, our allies? We’re going to just leave them to starve at the hands of the council?”

Jungwon glared at him, “We come first. This coven’s safety comes first. Everything else comes second.” 

Sunoo approached, “Jungwon?”

Jungwon backed away until he stepped out and closed the door. “Second.” He repeated, then he was gone. 

Sunghoon sighed and pushed forward like he was trying to follow, but Heeseung blocked his path, “Let him go. He’ll come to us when he’s ready.”

“He’s not okay and you know it. He shouldn’t be alone right now,” Sunghoon countered. 

“He will come to us. You know pushing him now will only make him run.”

Sunghoon’s shoulders dropped, and Jake came up beside him, pressing a hand between his shoulder blades. “We need to tell Jay what’s going on. He might have some ideas or information.” 

Heeseung stepped back, allowing Jake to herd Sunghoon out of the room. When the door clicked shut, Heeseung finally turned to Sunoo, who remained standing in the center of the room. 

“We’re going to figure this out, together,” Sunoo whispered, but the end tilted up like a question, like the answer was something he was too afraid to hear out loud.

Heeseung didn’t answer him at first; he just crossed the few steps it took to gather Sunoo against him. Sunoo’s hands found their way under Heeseung’s shirt, and he shivered when Sunoo placed his palms flat against his spine. “We’re going to figure this out. Just like we always do.”

Sunoo let out a long exhale, his body molding into the crevices of Heeseung’s. Upstairs, he could hear Jake and Sunghoon moving around, could hear the rhythm of anxious heartbeats and soft arguing if he strained hard enough. 

“Why don’t you go up to my room, hmm? I’ll meet you there.” Heeseung whispered against the shell of Sunoo’s ear, allowing the other to detangle himself from his hold and slip out the door. 

He waited a beat until he heard the spray of the shower to follow Sunoo up the stairs. The hallway was quiet, aside from a low sound coming from the far room. 

He could no longer hear the agitated voices of Jay, Jake, or Sunghoon; instead, there were murmurs of quiet apologies, kisses, and fears. Heeseung walked past their room. Jungwon’s room was equally silent., Heeseung could pick up nothing aside from steady breathing—but he didn’t knock. Not yet. Not tonight. 

The closer Heeseung walked to Riki’s room, the louder the sound became until Heeseung could make out a melody. He smiled, stopping involuntarily to listen to Riki hum one of the many songs the coven had created. The lyrics were sweet in Riki’s voice, soft, in a way they never had been before.

Abruptly, the melody cut off, “Are you just going to stand there?”

Heeseung laughed and rapped his knuckles against the door, more out of habit than anything else. “Can I come in?” 

The door swung open, and Heeseung walked in, closing it behind him. Riki sat crossed-legged on his bed, facing him, one eyebrow crooked. “Jungwon-hyung didn’t kill you?”

Heeseung laughed again, “No. Not yet.”

Riki bit down on his bottom lip, his hands twisting together in his lap. “Is he…mad at me?”

“No, he’s not.” When Riki looked doubtful, Heeseung insisted, “If anything, he was just disappointed in me.”

“And the council?”

Heeseung froze, eyeing Riki carefully. He didn’t look upset, just curious. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just them being assholes again; new rules, old hate. We’ll be okay.”

Riki glanced up, eyes taking apart Heeseung piece by piece, like he was stripping him to his core. Heeseung shifted uncomfortably. He dug into his pocket, digging out a small bag and tossing it at Riki.

Riki caught it, breaking eye contact to glance at the bag curiously. He poured the continents into his hand. Necklaces fell into his palm, along with several different rings. Riki shifted them from one hand to another, touching the jewelry like they were something precious.

“What’s this?”

Heeseung shrugged, but his eyes stayed on Riki. “I thought they fit your vibe.” 

Riki’s head shot up and he sifted through the jewelry again, slowly, his fingers catching on a signature cross motif etched into one of the thicker bands. He held it towards the lamp light, the silver glinting in sharp, jagged lines. 

“Is this…Chrome Hearts?” His voice was low, a little incredulous.

Heeseung scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. It felt like something you would wear.” He hesitated, then added, “It felt like something that matched you,”

Riki turned a ring over in his palm, thumb swiping over the small dagger detail etched into the side. “This shit’s expensive.” He murmured, but there was no accusation in it. Only a flicker of something softer–guilt, maybe.

Heeseung crossed the room slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Price doesn’t really matter to us. Plus, I like seeing you happy.”

Riki leaned over, setting all but one necklace on the side table beside his bed. He held it up between them, the small dagger pendulum hanging from the center. “Help me?”

Heeseung swallowed, and Riki turned around, placing the necklace in his palm. Heeseung shifted slightly, lifting it over Riki’s head and clasping it together. Riki hummed and turned back to him, wrapping both arms around his waist and pulling him into a sudden, bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you.”

Heeseung blinked, then let himself be held, curling an arm around Riki’s shoulders and resting his chin on the crown of his head. “Anytime.”

Heeseung wasn’t quite sure who pulled back first. At some point, Heeseung stood up, and Riki’s eyes followed him out of the room, a simple goodnight murmured between them. He lingered in Riki’s doorway a moment longer after the door closed behind him. The hallway was quiet again, dim. For a second, he just let himself just lean against the wall. Then he pushed off and padded down the hall, bare feet soft against the wooden floor. 

His door was slightly ajar when he reached it, warmth curling from the gap. He nudged it open with a knuckle. Sunoo stood by the bed, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and another pressed against his damp hair. His skin was flushed pink, and small droplets of water dripped onto the sheets, absorbing into the material. 

Heeseung smiled, sneaking an arm around his waist to feel the heat of Sunoo’s body through his clothes. Sunoo smelled of jasmine and orange blossom when Heeseung tucked his nose into the other’s neck.

He pulled back, “Is that my favorite soap?”

Sunoo rolled his eyes, “I was showering in your bathroom, what did you expect?”

Heeseung pinched his side but leaned in to brush a kiss against Sunoo’s temple, “I’ll be out in a few.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, twisting the handle until the water ran hot, nearly scalding. Through the door, he heard Sunoo shuffling around the room—rifling through drawers, a phone being plugged in, humming.

It was comforting, distracting. It made it easy enough to push away–for now–the threat of the council, the ache in Jungwon’s eyes, the conversation with Riki. For just a little while, Heeseung let the water wash everything down the drain.

When Heeseung reentered, the lights were dimmed low, casting small amber shadows across the space. The warmth of his shower still clung heavily to his skin, and he shivered at the temperature change, rubbing a towel through his hair. 

Sunoo was already buried beneath the blankets, a frankly unnecessary amount of pillows stacked behind his back, and his phone glowing faintly in his lap. He was watching something–probably some recent drama he’d become obsessed with–though Heeseung could tell from his soft expression that Sunoo wasn’t really paying attention anymore.

“You take forever,” Sunoo murmured, not looking away from his phone.

“You take hotter showers than I do,” Heeseung shot back, tossing the towel he used for his hair over a chair and picking through the clothes strewn about the floor. “You’re lucky I didn’t overheat and die.”

“I’d mourn you,” Sunoo replied sweetly, tapping the screen to pause the video. “For at least a week. Maybe a week and a half.”

Heeseung snorted as he climbed into bed beside him. Sunoo immediately scooted closer, curling into Heeseung’s side naturally. His head rested on Heeseung’s chest, one leg thrown over his body to tangle with his legs as if there had never been a time they didn’t sleep like this.

The tension in Heeseung’s spine slowly started to ease. His hand found its way into Sunoo’s hair, brushing through the still-damp strands. “You okay?” he asked softly.

Sunoo was quiet for a moment. “Are you?”

Heeseung hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Me neither,” Sunoo whispered. 

They lay in silence, the burden of knowledge lay next to them, almost like its own entity, pressing into every corner to make itself known, unignorable. Heeseung rubbed at his eyes with his other hand. He could make out faint rustles of movement down the hall, maybe Jake’s voice, maybe Sunghoon pacing again, maybe Jay trying to mediate—still nothing from Jungwon’s room.

“I texted Jungwon to join us. I went to his door too.” Sunoo whispered, the tip of his finger tracing small patterns onto the expanse of Heeseung’s skin. “He wouldn’t answer, wouldn’t even let me in.”

Heeseung pressed a kiss to his hair. “He’s just being…” He paused. “He’ll come to us eventually.”

“I worry about him. He carries too much.”

Heeseung sighed, painfully aware of just how much Jungwon carried. “I worry about him too.”

Sunoo let out a long breath through his nose, and the quiet settled over them again until Sunoo’s grip tightened and he whispered, “Whatever happens to our world, I won’t lose you. I can’t lose any of you. We have to make it.”

Heeseung rubbed what he hoped were comforting circles on Sunoo’s back. “We will. No matter what.”

***

Run.

Run.

Run.

But it didn’t matter how fast he went, or how far he had gotten.

Visions struck like blows, each one knocking him to his knees. He couldn’t run anymore. Couldn’t move.

They were lying in a heap—heads tilted, limbs outstretched as if still reaching for him. He crawled to them, throat raw from screaming, desperate to get them, to hold them, to stop the blood seeping from wounds he couldn’t find.

Heeseung. Jay. Jake. Sunghoon. Sunoo. Riki.

All of them.

All dying.

He pushed forward. He tried. But they only got farther. Further from his hands. Further from help.

Their screams pounded in his ears—frantic, familiar, full of pain. He could hear them. He knew their voices.

He clamped his hands over his ears, shut his eyes tight.

It didn’t work.

Their cries echoed inside his skull. Their bodies twisted behind his eyelids.

He collapsed.

Crushed under the weight of the truth:

He couldn’t save them.

—

Jungwon shot up.

Cold sweat trickled down his spine, gluing his shirt to his skin. His lungs clawed at the air, dragging in breath after breath that didn’t seem to reach him.

He shoved the sheets away, flinching as cool air touched his fevered skin.

Stumbling, barely able to see, he made it to the bathroom. His hands hit the counter hard, and he gripped the marble like it was the only thing anchoring him to this world.

He leaned over the sink. The water ran over his hands, scalding hot, but he couldn't feel it. He splashed it on his face.

“You’re fine. They’re fine.” He forced the words out—but they felt like lies in his mouth.

His reflection was blurred when he looked up, warped by tears.

But even through that, he could tell—

He couldn’t breathe.

His knees gave out. The floor caught him, hard and cold.

He curled in on himself, pulling his knees to his chest, trying to ease the pressure that had settled on his ribs.

The silence mocked him.

It watched his shield crack.

Watched him drown, wave after wave.

And this time—

He didn’t have the strength to fight.

***

Blood.

Pain.

Panic.

Heeseung’s eyes shot open, the images flashing through his mind too fragmented and rapid to make sense of. The echo of a heartbeat—pounding too fast—faded from his chest, and he sagged back against the mattress.

Next to him, Sunoo stirred, and Heeseung pressed a kiss to his temple in apology.

The panic slowly drained from his veins, and he paused.

That hadn’t been his own panic he’d felt.

“Fuck.”

He ripped the sheets off his legs, uncaring if it disturbed Sunoo anymore. The pull in his chest guided him—tightening with every step, the panic rising in the back of his mind the closer he got.

He pushed open the door, peeking inside. Jungwon’s bed was empty. The sheets tangled, discarded—like someone had fled.

“Jungwon?”

Heeseung’s ears caught the sound of running water. He stepped fully into the room.

The bathroom door was ajar. Warm light spilled across the floor.

He eased it open—

And dropped to his knees.

Jungwon lay curled on the tile, fists tangled in his hair, knuckles bone-white. He was gasping, drowning on dry land. Heeseung didn’t hesitate. He pried Jungwon’s fingers loose, gathering his wrists gently in one hand.

“Hey—hey, look at me. You’re okay. You’re safe. Jungwon, breathe with me. Come on.”

He pressed Jungwon’s palm flat to his chest, letting him feel it—his heartbeat, steady and slow beneath the fabric.

A choked sob tore from Jungwon’s throat, and he tried to pull away. Heeseung let him, but stopped his hand before it could return to his hair.

Instead, he pulled Jungwon into his lap. Jungwon buried his face in Heeseung’s neck, but his breathing didn’t slow; his sobs only got louder.

Heeseung held him tighter, kissing his shoulder again and again, murmuring comfort he knew Jungwon couldn’t hear.

“Jungwon, baby, please. You need to breathe with me.”

Jungwon clawed at his shirt, dragging him closer, like he wanted to disappear inside him—like he needed to. Heeseung blinked back tears.

The scent of panic filled the air, thick and suffocating. Heeseung couldn’t dull it; not when Jungwon wouldn’t even look at him.

He ran a hand through Jungwon’s hair, pleading now, and then—

“What’s going on?”

Jay.

He burst into the doorway—eyes wide, hair mussed from sleep. Heeseung didn’t look up; he didn’t have to. He could feel the others gathering behind Jay—warmth and concern pushing into the room like a tide.

Jay’s gaze dropped, his eyes landing on them, huddled on the tile, then he fell to his knees, too.

Jay’s voice softened, hands hovering over Jungwon like he wasn’t sure where he was allowed to touch. “Jungwon. Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe, it’s us.”

No response. Just more shaking, more of those hitched, gasping breaths. Jungwon’s face was still buried in Heeseung’s neck.

Sunghoon crouched beside them, his expression tight with worry. “Panic attack? He hasn’t had one of these in years.” 

“No,” Heeseung said hoarsely. “Not like this. Not even when—” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. “I saw flashes, fragments of images.”

Jay looked up at him, wary, “Blood?” He asked. “Like bodies?” When Heeseung nodded cautiously, he sighed, “I did too.”

Sunghoon brushed his hand over Jungwon’s head, not even putting enough pressure on Jungwon to register. “So did I. He must have lost control of the bond.”

Sunoo knelt next, his eyes wet and wide. “Jungwon?” he whispered. His voice cracked. “You’re not alone, okay? You’re with us. You’re home.”

He reached out and brushed trembling fingers through Jungwon’s hair, but Jungwon flinched, shoulders curling tighter.

“Shit,” Jake breathed from the doorway. He came forward, barefoot and sleep-rumpled, his usual smile nowhere in sight. “What do we do?”

Heeseung didn’t answer.

Jake sank beside Jay, taking one of Jungwon’s feet into his lap. He started rubbing slow circles into the arch, gentle, grounding. “Wonnie,” he whispered. “Come back to us, we need you. I need you.”

Nothing.

Jay tried again. “Can we move him to the nest? The nest has worked before, right?”

They exchanged glances, but no one said what they were all thinking: He’s never needed help like this before.

Together, they lifted him—slowly, carefully—keeping him pressed to Heeseung’s chest. Jungwon didn’t resist, but he didn’t respond either.

Once in the nest, they surrounded him. Warm bodies, gentle touches, and quiet reassurances whispered into skin. Sunghoon tucked a blanket around his legs. Jake kissed his temple. Sunoo curled up at his back and hummed quietly, his voice shaking.

Still nothing.

His breathing didn’t even out. His eyes didn’t open.

Jay sat at his feet, one hand resting on Jungwon’s shin. “It’s like he’s… here, but not.”

Heeseung felt it too, a pang, almost like an ache. He was hit with a dizzying wave of need, but it wasn’t his own. His throat pulsed, right over Jungwon’s mark, and he twitched as the ache in his chest grew, like it was reaching beyond him. Like it was trying to retrieve the missing piece he couldn’t see. The others shifted uneasily, and Jake’s hand rubbed over his own mark, wincing lightly.  

Then—it snapped. 

Heeseung drew in a deep breath as the pressure in his lungs dissipated. “Wait—”

In the doorway, a rumpled outline, a shadow.

Riki.

Panting like he’d run through a storm.

His eyes locked onto the nest—onto Jungwon—and he stepped forward, one hand pressed to his chest. “I felt—,” he said, voice breathless. “I didn’t know what it was. I just—I have to be here.”

The second Riki stepped into the nest, something in Jungwon shifted. Not visibly or audibly, but felt.

Like the static in the room had finally cleared.

Heeseung looked down, hope surging like blood in his mouth.

Jungwon's breath hitched—and then he exhaled.

A real breath. The first one since Heeseung had found him broken on the bathroom floor.

He turned his head, just slightly, and reached a shaking hand in Riki’s direction. Jungwon pulled against Heeseung’s hold, and Riki rushed to him, like the center of gravity had changed. Like he could see nothing—no one—aside from Jungwon.

Riki pulled him from Heeseung’s grasp, and Jungwon latched on, burrowing his face in Riki’s chest, neck, anywhere he could reach. He let out a sob, but it was softer, filled with relief rather than fear or pain.    

Jay exhaled, long and shaky, like the air had been punched from his lungs. Sunoo sagged against Jake, his forehead pressing against Sunghoon’s shoulder. Even Heeseung, still sitting in the mess of it all, let his hands fall uselessly into his lap.

Because finally—finally—Jungwon was breathing.

Riki didn’t ask what happened. He wrapped his arms around Jungwon and held him like he knew exactly what to do—like his body remembered something his mind didn’t, like he was made for this. One hand cupped the back of Jungwon’s head, the other pressed firm and steady between his shoulder blades, not forcing—just holding. 

And it worked.

Tremors still wracked Jungwon’s frame, but they were softer now, more like the aftershocks of something passing through rather than something ripping him apart at the seams. He breathed in, mouth against Riki’s skin, and the scent—Riki’s scent—hit him hard and fast.

Home. Safe. His.

Jungwon clung tighter, fingers fisting in Riki’s shirt like he could crawl inside it, and Riki didn’t flinch. He shifted with him, whispering quiet things only Jungwon could hear.

Heeseung missed the words—but he didn’t need to.

Whatever they were, they worked.

Bit by bit, the air around them cleared, the tension uncoiled from Jungwon’s spine, and for the first time since the nightmare shattered through the bond, Jungwon returned to them.

Heeseung didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he saw it. The tension in Jungwon’s shoulders begins to ease, not all at once, not thoroughly, but enough.

His fingers loosened in Riki’s shirt, his breath coming in long, shuddering exhales. Each one steadier than the last.

And then, finally, Jungwon pulled back just enough to look at him. His eyes were red, tear-bright, still glassy with exhaustion, like he hadn’t fully returned to himself yet, but they were focused now.

“Hi,” Riki whispered.

It was so soft that Heeseung barely heard it, but Jungwon’s lip trembled, and he nodded. A sound left him—half-laugh, half-sob—and he pressed his forehead to Riki’s, his hands coming up to cup Riki’s face like he couldn’t believe he was real.

Heeseung’s throat tightened. He watched as Riki cradled Jungwon closer, one hand stroking down his spine in the gentlest rhythm. His touch was like a tether looped through the dark.

Only minutes later—though it felt like an eternity—Jungwon’s eyes began to flutter. His body, so rigid with fear, started to sag. 

Heeseung reached out instinctively to help guide him, but Riki was already there. Already shifting, lowering him carefully further into the nest, never letting go for a second. Jungwon curled in on himself, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other still gripping the hem of Riki’s shirt like a lifeline. His breathing had evened out completely now—deep, slow.

Asleep.

Heeseung exhaled. Jake made a soft noise behind him, equal parts relief and heartbreak. Sunghoon pressed a hand over his eyes, and Sunoo finally hiccuped out the breath he’d been holding. Jay reached out and laid a hand over Jungwon’s back, so gently it barely stirred the blanket.

They stayed like that a long time, the only movements being Riki carding his hand through Jungwon’s hair and the calm rise and fall of Jungwon’s chest. Heeseung’s eyes swept over the nest, cataloging every movement and breath like they would disappear. 

Sunoo placed a hand on Heeseung’s shoulder, leaning over to peer closer at Jungwon. “Is he really asleep?”

Riki nodded, not looking up, “Yeah, he’s out.”

Jay dragged a hand down his face, sighing, “I’ve never seen him like that, ever.”

Heeseung brushed a knuckle down Jungwon's cheek, but he didn’t stir. Heeseung drew his hand up, dragging it through Riki’s hair instead. “Thank you.”

Riki’s brows creased, but he leaned into Heeseung’s hand, “For?”

Heeseung scratched his nails across Riki’s scalp, and Riki melted. Heeseung leaned forward, “You said you felt something.” Riki nodded, “What did you mean?”

“A tug. At my chest, like something was dragging me here.”

“Did you see flashes?”

Riki blinked, visibly thinking briefly before shaking his head, “No, just a tug.”

Jay reached over, resting a hand on Jungwon’s head, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You calmed him, even when we couldn’t.” Sunoo said.

“I didn’t know what I was doing I just—”

“We know, baby, we know.” Sunghoon murmured, “Sleep now, you did good.”

Riki’s head drooped, his hand never stopping its rhythm through Jungwon’s hair. His eyes were half-lidded now, lashes fluttering. Heeseung didn’t blame him—whatever had pulled him here had drained him completely. He kept his hand in Riki’s hair, slow and steady, until his breathing evened out, then settled beside Jungwon.

Sunoo broke the quiet. “He’s going to hate this in the morning.”

Jake let out a small laugh, picking at the blanket. “They’re cute, though. Not exactly a night to remember, but…”

A low sigh from Sunghoon cut through. “Why weren’t we enough?”

Jay made a soft sound behind him, reaching for him, but Sunghoon waved him off. “No, not like that.”

Heeseung tilted his head. “Then… what do you mean?”

Sunghoon hesitated. “We’re his coven. That should’ve been enough to calm him… all of us were here. Last time he was even close to an attack that bad, Jake wasn’t home.”

Jake flinched at the memory, uneasy.

Sunghoon ran a hand over his face. “But this time… none of us were missing. And still—”

“The pull wasn’t just for us,” Sunoo whispered.

Heeseung frowned. “Just for us?”

Jay’s gaze shifted to Riki, sleeping soundly. “Not exactly. Some part of him… considered someone else.”

“The tug,” Sunghoon said, voice low. “Riki said he just… followed it. Like an instinct, like the one we had.”

Jake blinked, realization dawning at the same time as Heeseung. “So… Jungwon sees him as—”

Sunghoon nodded faintly, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “Even if he doesn’t admit it, some part of him does.”

Jay murmured, almost to himself, “Riki was there. In the visions. The nightmare. Bodies, blood… he was part of it.”

Heeseung let his head fall back against the headboard. “Fuck.”