V

Yoongi breathe.

Yoongi blink.

Yoongi yawned.

Yoongi closed his eyes.

And Jimin screamed internally because he knows he’s ed up.

He knows now the real thing about Min Yoongi being a half S-class vampire; why he’s fed to Jimin’s blood and just the whole thing, just the whole story. At first, Jimin just laugh it all out. He finds it funny, teasing Yoongi for having a terrible taste in pun and being plainly horrible about it. But the moment Yoongi deadpans a low as if I’m the type to joke, he choked, stopped, wide-eyes, breath hitched, throat dried, while every details he has heard currently sinking into his mind.

And yeah, everything turns out to be a real deal.

It’s been a couple of weeks since then and the younger boy was kind of used to Yoongi popping out of nowhere to pinned him to the nearest wall and his blood. It still hurts, feeling how the skin on his neck being ripped by a pair of sharp fangs and positively leaving a wound and purple bruise the next day. Yoongi doesn’t need to be fed on daily basis though. He let Jimin’s punctured neck and bruise to heal first and until the younger’s on a good condition.

With Yoongi’s consideration to his health, Jimin has no reason to complain.

But there’s this one thing about the whole blood that’s making him uncomfortable – basically, uncomfortable down there. He has always ended up releasing wanton moans and groans, beads of sweat trickling down his temple and flushed neck, half-lidded eyes and a panting mess beneath the strong holds. He doesn’t understand what is there about the situation that’s making his whole body feels burning in wild fire, and getting so just by looking at the blood-stained lips of the vampire. He should be terrified, but unfortunately didn’t, and he’s getting slowly crazy about it.

In short, these past couple of weeks, he always had to suffer and deal with his problem in his pants whenever the elder leave.

And now is not an exception; but the difference is, this time, Yoongi stayed.

Slowly, Jimin peel his head from his forearms, stealing glance over his eyelashes to look at the sleeping senior in front of him. The soft snore slipping past Yoongi’s lips reaching his ears is slowly driving him insane. He gulped, once, twice, thrice, ‘til he’s lost in counting, stubbornly wetting his drying throat.

They’re in the library because Jimin has to finish his assignments so that he doesn’t have to worry when he got home late after his dance practice later. He’s sitting on the far end corner of the room, trying to find a place with less student so no one can bother him when suddenly, out of nowhere, he felt a swish of wind and a pair of soft, warm lips planted on his right neck. He was startled but didn’t get a chance to let out a squeak when he felt the familiar sting of pain sinking in his skin, making him gasp in surprise and bite back a moan – because either it’s body heating and the intoxicating smell of the elder with the millimetre distance is turning him on, so bad – he’s still decent to supress the obnoxious sounds because he’s in the library. And in the library, students were supposed to keep silent.

He sighed, closing his legs instinctively with the uncomfortable heat pooling in his stomach. Tucking his bottom lip under his teeth, he looked down and cursed under his breath when his eyes landed on the obvious tent in his pants.

No. It can’t be.

“What’s wrong, Jiminnie?”

He almost jumps out of his skin, too startled for his own good, when he heard the low raspy voice ripping the silence surrounding him. Looking at the elder’s nonchalant face in his front with wide eyes as he shook his head no furiously.

“Nothing,” he answered, withdrawing his eyes back to look at his notes scattered all around the table, picking his things and carelessly tossing everything inside his bag. He needs to get out of here now. As in now. Run to anywhere, hide himself, just anywhere far from the senior. He just need to get Yoongi out of his sight. And because he’s sure enough that he’s not going to get any study done with the elder around him. So he quickly stood up, tripping on his own feet as he his heels.

“Where are you going?” He stopped, glancing over his shoulder to look at Yoongi who has his elbows on the table and chin resting on the back of his hands, eyes darting straight to his face, looking so damn y on his own.

God, Jimin, you’re ed up big time.

“T-Tae-tae. I need to see, Taehyung. We promised to meet before we go to our studios,” he stuttered before flushing so hard he has to turn his face away. Jimin darted his eyes down on his shoes, finding the thing suddenly more interesting than any living around him. The heat in his gut was still there, swirling and twisting in his insides.

“Okay,” was the only answer he got from the elder before he nodded his head – still not looking to Yoongi – and dashing out of the room.

A long sigh of relief slipped past his lips, chest rising and falling heavily as he took a gulp of big air for his lungs. He carefully walk through the hallway, eyes downcast in case anyone would catch a look of his flush skin. That would be totally embarrassing.

He take a quick look of his surroundings the moment he set a foot inside their locker room, finding no one beside himself. A wave of relief comes washing over him as he felt his tense muscles relaxed and his nerves calmed. Jimin immediately went to his locker, ing his shirt quietly and chucking it down his shoulders until his small bubble of peace of mind burst when he heard the door creaking open right behind him. His movements come to a halt, shirt down half way, exposing the delicious flexing biceps as he tensed up yet again, head snapping to the door. And there he saw a tall, fair skinned, lean, doe-eyed male looking at him; eyes wide as his, looking all shocked and rattled.

They stayed like that for a minute, breath caught in their throats, starin