chenle

Chenle has been loving Jisung the wrong way. So he's going to move on. He's resolved to move on.

He feels a little bad, using Hana as some kind of rebound. He never would have said yes to her before. But if there's anyone to distract him from his before, it's her. She's kind and funny and positive. And she likes Chenle. Why, he still has no idea.

As far as school dances go, it's pretty fun. (Even if seeing Jisung dressed up in his too-small tux made every second of moving on a little more horrible.) Hana introduced him to her friends, put in a request at the DJ booth and pulled him out onto the dance floor. Winning prom king wasn't bad either. The lights were bright. The attention was heady. Hana's hand was warm in his.

"Come with me," she said, leaning in close to his ear. "Let's go to the bleachers."

He said okay. So now they're under the bleachers. It's cold, so he gives her his jacket.

"Thank you for this," she says, standing against a metal beam. "The jacket — and everything else. Still surprised you said yes."

"I think my mother would have cried if she didn't get to dress me up for prom."

"Ah, so this is just for her sake."

"Yup. Just her."

Hana smiles. Chenle smiles back.

She takes a step forward. "Would it be cliche to ask to kiss you?"

He hesitates. The scratches inside his lip have long healed. A part of him misses the feeling. The reminder.

Don't think about that.

He nods.

The kiss is... okay. Okay. Christ, that's not the reaction he's supposed to be having. Her hands are gentle on his cheeks. She's standing on her tiptoes. It's cute. It's all nice and gentle and cute. So why the fuck is it just okay?

That damn two-word reason comes to mind. Not even a full sentence.

Suddenly every touch feels like a lie, makes him a liar. He's about to step away, make up some shit about being chilly. But then her hands are sliding back, her lips are on his neck. He can't speak. He's only ever felt Jisung there. Only Jisung.

And then her lips part, and two needle-thin points press to his skin.

"Hey—" He pushes her away. "What — what the fuck? Were you about to bite me?"

She's blinking at him, eyebrows scrunched together. "This... wasn't part of... the plan."

"What plan?" He lowers his voice out of habit. "Hana, are you a fucking vampire?"

He can see her brain working. And the fangs beneath her lips. She crosses her arms. "How did you know?"

"You almost bit me."

"But why would you come to that conclusion so fast?"

"Is that why you asked me to prom — so you could drain me afterward?"

"A pervert, maybe, but a vampire? That's so random!"

"What the fuck is this conversation!"

"And why do you always wear that stupid scarf — it's like you're taunting me!" Something dawns on her. Her eyes go wide. "You've already been claimed."

"No, I—"

"You're bloodmated."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"I had no idea there was another vampire at school! It's Jisung, isn't it? That's why he smelled like you, ugh, it was driving me crazy! I never would have guessed, I mean, he's such a doormat."

"Jisung isn't— would you stop for a second? You were going to bite me without even asking first, do you get how fucked up that is?"

She closes her mouth, swallowing. "I... I wanted to tell you. Ask if I could... but I just did what Schubert told me to do."

"Who?"

"My cat — my guide. He told me the way to feed was... well, the horror movie thing. They won't remember it anyway, right?"

"That's bullshit and you know it."

She drops her head back and sinks to the dirt, drawing her legs up to her chest. Suddenly she seems so depleted, eyes heavy, skin sallow. "I know."

Chenle stands stubbornly for a minute, then hunkers down across from her. From one vampire to another. If this was his attempt at moving on, he should have just stayed seated.

"I'm dying," she murmurs. "Every day, every second."

"There are other ways."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Telling someone you trust, someone who trusts you."

"Any sane person would just laugh and brush me off. Say I'm a freak or delusional or something. Why would — why should — anybody believe me? Most of the time I don't even believe myself."

Chenle sighs. Is this really his prom night? Giving a vampire a pep talk? "I get it. Okay? I didn't want to believe either. But I... I decided I loved my friend too much not to believe him. Even if I had my doubts, I couldn't watch him suffer."

She's biting her lip. "I have one friend... God, I don't want her to think I'm weird." She looks at Chenle. "If I asked politely this time?"

"No."

"Fine. I am sorry, for the record. For lying to you, and the biting thing."

"Yeah. I'm sorry too."

"For what?"

"I've been using you as a rebound because I'm in love with Jisung."

She blinks. "Yeah, guess we're even."

Chenle slumps forward, head on his knees. He thought saying it out loud was supposed to help, but all he feels is bad and hopeless and lonely. A party without Jisung. What even is the fucking point?

"So... do we just go back in now?" Hana asks. "What should I tell people? 'We're better as friends'?"

"I don't care. Say I'm a bad kisser."

"Psh, I'm not going to lie."

He laughs, trying not to blush.

"Just find me when you need a ride home," she says.

"Don't worry about it. I'll walk. I think I need to... think."

Chenle reaches for his phone. It's later than he thought. The stars are out, the music inside has faded to a slow dance. He might hitch a ride on the back of Jisung's bike, if he hasn't gone home already. After everything, it's annoying how all Chenle wants to do is hang out with Jisung, even if they don't say a word.

And then the texts come flooding in.

Help

Nibbles kittens

Now

At locker

Help

!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chenle scrambles to his feet.

"You okay?" says Hana. "What's going on?"

"I have — shit — I have to go."

He starts to run, then stops just as fast, turning back to Hana.

"No. Wait. I do need a ride. Right now."

jisung

Chenle isn't responding. And Jisung has run out of ideas. He's also completely freaking out.

He's stuffing his jacket and a spare janitor jumpsuit into the bottom of a mop bucket. It'll have to do for a birthing box. It's too late to get Nibbles home by bike. She still isn't talking. Isn't telling him what to do. Just panting, wide-eyed, suddenly nothing but a cat — a pregnant cat, one he's responsible for — and that's more terrifying than anything else that's happened tonight. (Almost.) (Focus.)

He gathers the backpack gently into his arms and sets it in the mop bucket. Nibbles doesn't come out. Doesn't make herself comfortable, just sits coiled up in the crumby pit of his backpack. Shit, shit, shit. The one night he's not at home.

"I'm sorry," he says, knowing she won't respond. "I'm sorry I can't make this better, but I swear you'll get through it, just, just focus on breathing—"

"Jisung!"

He spins around. Chenle is full-speed running up the hallway toward them.

"Chenle! I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do—"

"Help me with this." Chenle takes one side of the bucket. Jisung does the same. "Parking lot, hurry."

They heft the bucket up, scuttling toward the front doors. As soon as they push out into the night, a car comes out of nowhere and does a Fast & Furious skid right up to them.

Hana is in the driver seat. She rolls down her window. "Move it!"

They climb in the back seat with the bucket — which says in red do not remove from school property — and Hana pulls out of the parking lot at an alarming speed. Jisung tries to hold the bucket steady through wild turns and stop sign brakes.

"Thank you for this, Hana, seriously," says Chenle.

"It's nothing." She flashes Jisung a smile over her shoulder. "Our kind have to stick together."

That feels like it means something. But Jisung's brain is at its limit right now.

In what feels like a heartbeat, they're stopped outside his house. They carry the bucket inside to Jisung's bedroom. Nibbles slips out of the backpack and leaps into the box they filled with blankets, settles down in the dark, warm space.

Jisung flinches when Chenle takes his hand. Squeezes it tightly, lacing their fingers together. He realizes he'd been trembling. Chenle steadies him.

They sit on the bed, and neither of them let go, not even for a minute.