Tell tales of vampires were as real as one wished them to be, concluded Joonmyeon whilst closing the ragged, russet leather diary after placing his ink stained quill aside and closing the lid of the amber ink bottle almost devoid of sable fill, having finished writing down most memorable events of the day.
To some, vampires were but sheer idiocy created by imagination fueled crazed minds that gloated in the inexplicable fear the very name of the blood creatures evoked in trembling eyes of the listeners, but to the others... Oh, not just those that feared their existence, but to those that actually yearned to be like that, to have sharp, pearly fangs 'stead of teeth and to feed on blood 'stead of animal meat, to them vampires were very much real. And they couldn't be closer to the truth.
 
He let out a soft exhale, rubbing the back of his sore neck in deliberately slow circuit motion before reaching out with his delicate hand towards the almond colored silken handkerchief neatly folded on the desk next to the ink bottle that cast warm, flickering shadows onto it and used it to wipe the quill clean, frowning as he watched the ink smudge sullying the beauty of the silk.

-"Jongdae!" He called in a tired voice, albeit adamant and rich in audacity none the less, tossing the handkerchief onto the table almost carelessly while keeping a firm hold on the quill and attentively taking in its form, looking for even the slightest hint of dirt or ink on its gilded surface whilst turning it around in his fingers. It was impeccable.
Mere moments after, the called servant hurriedly approached the doorframe of his study room, his ethereal appearance bathed in the penumbra cast by faint light of the desk lamp.
-"Yes, sire?" He asked in that crisp, ringing voice of his that sent amiable shivers up Joonmyeon's spine, his long fingers threading a path through his messy, rosewood colored hair as his eyes fell onto Jongdae's attenuate body pressed against the frame in a shy posture, head lightly lowered towards the floor with attentive eyes glued to Joonmyeon's still form.
-"The handkerchief needs to be washed." He said after a while, pointing towards the dirtied piece of silk. The boy nodded slowly in acknowledgment of the words, calmly entering the study room in a graceful, svelte gait and approached the massive ebony desk occupying a copious amount of free space cluttered with papers, reaching out with his thin fingers about to grasp the smooth cloth.
-"Ah, not now." Chided him the older one, rubbing a tired hand over his frowned countenance, eager to rub the exhaustion off. “Come here.” Motioning with his hand for Jongdae to approach him, knowing that the boy exactly knew what he asked for, he flicked the first button of his dress shirt out of its hole, spreading the fabric as to let himself breathe properly. The stiff collar had been bothering him senseless all day.

Jongdae was quiet in his approach, smiling just the tiniest bit when Joonmyeon pulled his chair back a bit, leaving enough space for the younger to settle his surprisingly light body on his knees, shifting so that his eyes were fixated on Joonmyeon’s handsome face staring up at him in undeniable mirth.
-“Tough day?” He had asked, his sonorous voice reverberating in the depth of his throat as he reached up with his delicate fingers to brush the stray obsidian tresses away daringly ruining the pictorial sight of Jongdae’s utterly flawless face. Dark, sharp eyes, fine and pointed nose, strong jaw and expressed cheekbones, the whole appearance was completed by a pair of thin lips that suited the sharp contours perfectly, making Jongdae’s face unusually ethereal for someone of lowly birth such as his.

The servant chuckled, his crisp voice making Joonmyeon sigh inwardly in content at the delightful sound as he let his fingers trace the sharp line of other’s jaw, rewarded with a soft peck to the palm.
-“Not really sire, just the usual.”
Joonmyeon playfully teased the other in a mockingly sad tone, pretending to be hurt by other’s lack of words: “Ah, you’re dismissing me even before we started talking…”
-“Well…” Jongdae seemed thoughtful for a brief moment, “Taking the letters and reorganizing them, changing the sheets on your bed, Lordship… Ah, and helping the maids in the kitchen to cook dinner. One of them was fairly sick so I had to take her place.”
-“Yes, Madeleine, I know about her. I sent Rose to the drug store for medicines; Madeleine should be fine with a few days of rest.”

Jongdae nodded slowly, his hands coming up to rest on his Lord’s shoulders, gently massaging the stiff knot of muscles there.
-“Ah, that feels nice.” The older retorted with a pleased sigh, slightly flexing his muscles as other’s skilled hands eased the strain.
-“Rain is pouring outside sire, do you wish me to pull the curtains in your chambers?”
Joonmyeon shook his head in denial, resting his hands on other’s hips and stilling him in place.

It was a hell of a rain that night, too, when the maids had found Jongdae on the doorstep of the back door leading onto the small alleyway full of beggars, all soaked and shivering from the raging storm outside. He was underfed, barely having the strength to stand on his feet, and the little that he did have was used for desperate pleas to the maid that opened door to let him in. The rain was storming from all sides and he had nowhere else to turn, having looked for all sorts of sanctuaries, but in the end, he was left with none.
Without much objection, the woman let him in, hurriedly calling for others to bring blankets and dry, warm clothes for the boy to change into before he catches pneumonia or any other disease. Jongdae knew he had but that night of warmth left in the house, or until his clothes dry, but even such scarce time was enough for him to feel inexplicably indebted to the maids and to His Lordship as well that was informed of his presence there.

At one point, he had fallen asleep clutching to the amiable warmth the blankets provided, a cup of steaming tea next to him on the kitchen table and an empty bowl of porridge situated close to it, maids doing their best to make him feel warm and fed. He had found himself late that morning under a sea of blankets and covers on a mattress so soft, so pleasant to lay on that he felt like he was floating. He was surrounded with pillows dressed in silken pillowcases that were sheer delight upon touching them, wondering where he was.
His answer was brought quickly when Joonmyeon, later he had found out his name, emerged from the doors situated onto the wall looking at the king sized bed, drying his head with a ruby hued towel.
-“Ah, I see you are awake.” He had called him in a soft, almost breathtakingly beautiful chuckle, leaving Jongdae wordless at the kind gesture the man had made.

Despite Joonmyeon never explaining it to him as to why he had not just offered him a place to hide from the rain, but why he had in the end even left him in his own bed to sleep in, lest he catches a cold down in the kitchen, so he had said to him, Jongdae wasn’t as so stupid as not to place certain pieces together, but some were still missing to complete the whole picture.
That faithful evening when Joonmyeon walked down the stairs into the kitchen to see what kind of a ruckus had maids made, seeing the origin of its huddled beneath a set of blankets, it was then that he felt an undeniable connection with him. Albeit he knew humans could not have possibly sensed it, but the boy had smelled sinfully delicious. That very redolent scent, slightly pungent, but rich in aroma that smelled of carnal lust and desire so innocently wafting above the smooth plane of his skin, inviting…tempting… It made his mind hazy and thoughts go wild, unfettered, unchained – the boy was a sin; a puny, small, irrelevant human that had Joonmyeon inwardly on his knees from the potent scent he exuded, a scent so divine he had never met anyone that appeared more inviting than him. He needed to have him, to possess him… If he smelled that good, he sinfully quiet wondered just how incredibly he would taste like. His thick, full blood trickling down the open wound on his neck, coloring his wan skin a crimson, wouldn’t it be a sight majestic?

Suddenly snapping back to reality when he felt a soft, gentle pair of fingers tracing his exposed collarbones, playing with the dip and curves childishly, he had found himself laughing in a deep voice, eyes closing as Jongdae leaned in closer, his warm, amiable breath ghostly tracing the silky skin of Joonmyeon’s cheek. Not long, after a moment of silent hesitation, Jongdae pressed a soft kiss to other’s face very close to his beating red ear, his, albeit thin, lips leaving a tingling, pleasant sensation as a reminder of his affection.
Joonmyeon ran his hands up other’s attenuate body, feeling every dip, every curve and attentively drinking in the feeling of Jongdae’s body exuding impeccable, inviting heat, such a contrast to his otherwise icy body that yearned for heat with every beating breath.
-“Your hands are cold.” Softly mewled the servant in a dulcet voice, laced with undeniable yearning for pleasure when Joonmyeon’s delicate hand ran up the fine, arching line of his throat, unwittingly brushing over the faint vampire “love bites” that had the boy slightly twitch in burning, vehement desire.

-“Still as exquisite as the first time.” Joonmyeon softly whispered as he pulled the younger for a hungry kiss, feeling but no restraint when he beastly asked for more, pulling other’s slim, brittle body closer to his own, hands running up to tangle in younger’s obsidian tresses that felt so smooth to touch, so unearthly good.
Jongdae faintly smiled into the kiss, breaking it when his lungs desperately started craving for air, feeling his Lord moan softly in protest.
-“It is late, your Lordship, you ought to sleep now if you wish to respond to all those letters in tomorrow’s time.”

Just thinking about the accursed papers had Joonmyeon inwardly cry at the thought.
-“Yes, yes…” He sighed in wretched resignation, rubbing slowly a hand over his tired face. “But I expect you to pay me company in bed tonight, no?”
Jongdae softly laughed in response, hands coming up to meticulously straighten out the collars of other’s dress shirt, lips mouthing a silent ‘yes’.