Cigarette smoke settled like smog over the dance floor, lasers drawing green and red lines across the sweat-covered, writhing bodies of that night's worshipers. It was something Taehyung would never tire of, the constant movement of breathing corpses as the bass shook concrete walls and Yoongi sat above, at the altar of music, bringing the crowd to an ever higher frenzy.

.

The raw energy alone was enough for Taehyung to get drunk off, no need for the cup of alcoholic synthetic orange in his hand. His jacket lay in a heap where he'd tossed it beside him in his booth, the black a stark contrast to the plush red velvet. Namjoon sat across from him curled around one of the servers, a new hire that Taehyung hadn't recognized, with the same customary tight gold dress and overflowing cleavage that all the female employees seemed to possess. She laughed every time Namjoon whispered in her ear or bit at her neck, seemingly unconcerned about the rest of the club-goers, trailing cardinal red kisses along Namjoon's wrist and forearm as he lost his hands in the lengths of her hair. That action alone would cost Namjoon hundreds of dollars, though they both knew it didn't matter. The er could afford it.

Taehyung returned his attention to the dance floor, back to that hypnotizing thrall of lust and debauchery. He could taste it now, the tang of iron in the air, the frenzy, the perfect feeding ground. He tipped his drink back, finishing it in a single shot before shoving himself out of the booth, not bothering to grab his jacket. Namjoon stopped, looking up from the neck of the employee—now sporting twin holes—and grinned. His lips glistened with wet red in the strobe lights.

"Finding your own?" His laughed in the darkness, his glee shameless and unconcealed. "Are you sure you don't want a taste of mine?"

Taehyung scoffed, loosing a button of his shirt. "You're sharing?"

Namjoon shrugged the girl toward him, her arm flopping limp off the edge of the seat. He grinned, expression half-lidded at Taehyung. "I'm in a sharing mood tonight."

"Ah." Taehyung stepped closer, reaching down encase the girl's neck with his hand. "In that case," he leaned down to Namjoon, free hand burying in his hair, “I thank you for the taste.” He pulled the other man into a kiss, waiting only seconds before opening his mouth, swallowing Namjoon whole. As they separated, Taehyung ran his tongue along Namjoon’s lower lip, teasing it one last time before standing. Red smeared at the corner of his mouth. He snorted, gaze heavy on Namjoon as he pulled his hand away from the girl's neck.

“Finish your meal,” he scolded, nudging the limp hand of the girl with his knee before turning and melting into the crowd, palm still red with blood he didn't wipe away.

Namjoon watched him go with a smirk, absent-mindedly bringing a thumb to his lips. A small cut throbbed as his finger trailed over it, and Namjoon pulled his hand away, staring at the scarlet stain of his own blood on his thumb.

“ing bastard. He drank from me again.” He the blood off, shooting a disdainful glance at the girl in his lap. On the dance floor Taehyung danced, pressed flush against a small man with round cheeks and a full . Namjoon watched as Taehyung leaned down to kiss against the man's neck, the man going slack against him, a different, softer smile on his lips this time as his fingers raised, unbidden, to rest against the wound Taehyung left behind.