Night Kiss

by E. T. Malinowski

  “You’re just trying to make me feel better about being caught on film,” Jin-woo grumbled but had a hard time not smiling.

  “Maybe a little,” Ki-tae admitted, and then he sighed and looked at ChenBao. “What else came with the photos?”

  ChenBao handed him a plain white piece of paper. When he was finished, Jin-woo took it and read it himself. He didn’t know which part of the note bothered him more: the threat to him or the threat to Ki-tae. No, no, that wasn’t true.

  “Jin-woo?” Ki-tae’s voice drew him from his thoughts, and when he looked down, the paper was vibrating, his hands were shaking so hard.

  “I can tolerate a lot of things,” he said quietly. “But threats to people I care about? No, that is not allowed.”

  “You definitely need to keep him.” Cheongul chuckled.

  “Interesting,” ChenBao murmured.

  “What’s being done about this?” Jin-woo asked. “I assume some sort of action has been taken already.”

  “These were taken, obviously, from the CCTV cameras in the stadium,” Soon-joon said. “Shin-bai hubae and Hyun-jo hubae have already been working on that. Were we able to get anything on the car from the stadium parking lot?”

  “Wait, what car from the stadium?” Jin-woo asked, turning to look at Ki-tae.

  “The day we met,” Ki-tae said with a sigh. “Before the performance, someone tried to run me over. That one I had a little more time to move, but it still did some damage. That’s why I was feeding. I had to heal a couple torn leg muscles.”

  “You didn’t do that until intermission,” Jin-woo said in shock. That meant Ki-tae had been dancing on an injured leg. He slapped his chest. “Don’t do that again! You could have made things worse, dancing on an injury like that.”

  “So feisty,” Ki-tae chuckled as he pulled Jin-woo into a hug. “The damage wasn’t that bad, but it was getting worse toward the middle of the show. But when I drank from you, it was healed completely. Thank you.”

  “You need to stop getting hit by cars,” Jin-woo mumbled.

  “That is what I told him,” Shin-bai said as he stood near Soon-joon, arms crossed over his chest.

  “It’s not like I woke up and said, ‘Hm, I think I’ll get run over today, sounds like fun,’” Ki-tae said. “But that one happened before these photos showed up, so it’s possible they’re not connected.”

  “It is possible but unlikely, and the threat to you is clear,” Soon-joon said with a sigh.

  “Does this happen often to you guys?” Jin-woo said quietly, twisting his hands together and not looking directly at anyone.

  “No, not really,” Cheongul said.

  “This kind of leverage? Usually it’s some tabloid journalist looking for a quick buck or an exclusive opportunity,” Soon-joon explained. “As we have never condoned such behavior, after a while, they stopped trying. We always have responses ready in the event they follow through with their threat to release the photos or whatever they have. After being countered so many times, they eventually gave up. This? This is different. This is out-and-out blackmail. This person isn’t looking to get the jump on other photographers. I will not be surprised if there is another note delivered with a dollar amount attached to it.”

  “I’ve seen other companies ditch the idol shortly after having something like this come out,” Jin-woo said, gesturing to the pictures spread over ChenBao’s desk. “They send them away or put them on some sort of hiatus. What would happen if this person does release these pictures?”

  “The papers would have a field day. The fans, at least a portion of them, I would think, would be furious. They don’t mind when we kiss each other playing the Pocky game or hang on each other, that’s just how we are, but if they saw these and thought I was gay, they could get vicious, especially the netizens,” Ki-tae said.

  “If they ‘thought’ you were gay?” Jin-woo asked, raising an eyebrow. He was pretty sure having sex with another man counted as gay. Was Ki-tae saying….

  “Silly,” Ki-tae murmured. “They prefer to believe I’m straight. They’ve never seen me with a woman, and they don’t acknowledge the few times I’ve had a relationship for longer than a week or two with a guy. I like men and always have, and I like you in particular.”

  “Aw, I’m so proud of you, Ki-tae dongsaeng.” Cheongul clapped dramatically. “You’ve admitted to liking Jin-woo dongsaeng… instead of just lusting after him. Good for you.”

  “I hate you,” Ki-tae said.

  “No, you don’t,” Cheongul said with a grin and then added with a sigh, “So sweet.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Are you two finished?” Soon-joon said. “I swear, toddlers.”

  ChenBao chuckled. “They are brothers. It is their duty to pick on each other.”

  Soon-joon shook his head at their antics. Jin-woo had to smile. Cheongul and Ki-tae bickered back and forth, but he figured anyone who tried to harm the other one wouldn’t be breathing for long. He wondered what it was like to have a sibling. Jin-woo was an only child, and he had no cousins, his aunt never marrying. It was… nice to watch them together. This was a serious situation, he supposed. It was clear Ki-tae was in danger. Not only could he be seriously hurt in one of these attacks, he could also be exposed as a Vampire. Neither situation would end well.

  “Honestly the person who would be most harmed by these pictures is you, Jin-woo dongsaeng,” Soon-joon said, settling on the corner of ChenBao’s desk.

  “What do you mean?” he asked. He hadn’t thought about it because he wasn’t anyone famous.

  “Well, this could affect your college career,” Soon-joon explained. “Too often students who are outed experience more threats from their classmates than from the person who outed them to begin with. They are ostracized and tormented to such a degree they often leave school or, worse, harm themselves.”

  “I’ve never hidden my orientation from anyone,” Jin-woo said with a shrug. “I know how people can be. I don’t advertise it, and I haven’t had anyone at school come right out and ask me if I was gay.”

  “You seem… unfazed by the idea,” Soon-joon said.

  “There isn’t much, save ChenBao nuna, that phases Jin-woo dongsaeng.” Cheongul smirked. He appeared a little more relaxed now that the discussion was underway. Jin-woo figured Cheongul was the action type. He didn’t like sitting around waiting to learn things. He wanted to get the information, make a plan, and then implement it. Jin-woo had often watched him pace during filming when technical difficulties of one type or another would hold things up.

  “Well, I can sit here and worry it to death, or I can plan,” Jin-woo said with a shrug. “I would like to think my classmates wouldn’t turn on me, but I know it’s a possibility. I wouldn’t let them drive me out of school, though, and I certainly have no intention of harming myself because someone else has issues with who I sleep with, even though it has nothing to do with them, which is really stupid, if you think about it.”

  “I take this to mean you are fine with our company policy regarding such things?” ChenBao said. “We will not negotiate, and we will not comply. We will address and counter.”

  “That has always been how we handled things,” Ki-tae said.

  “The public relations team is monitoring social media sites. I have had Hyun-jo hubae adjust what commitments he could to this location. Not all of them could be changed, so security has been increased for off-site locations,” Soon-joon said.

  “That man should really be a manager,” ChenBao said. “If he can manage you, he can manage anyone.”

  “I am not that bad.”

  “You have a terrible time letting go of control, Táozi-chan.” ChenBao sighed. When she next looked up, Jin-woo could have sworn her eyes sparked. “You need someone to take your mind off work.”

  Ki-tae and Cheongul snorted in amusement. They hid their smiles behind their hands and turned away from the rest of the room. He couldn’t figure out why they did that, but then Jin-woo realized they
were laughing at how their sire was sort of getting scolded by their grandsire. Vampires were weird… or maybe they were too human. It seemed as if Ki-tae and the others acted just like anyone else, and being Vampires was just another thing about them, like being tall or having brown eyes.

  “This has got to be the weirdest meeting I’ve ever been to,” Jin-woo said, turning to look at Shin-bai standing next to him. “It’s like one minute, everything and everyone is all serious, and the next, they’re all picking on each other or laughing about something. And who is Táozi-chan?”

  “Welcome to the family,” Shin-bai said with a smile. “That would be Soon-joon-nim.”

  “Okay, I’m not going to touch that because my brain already hurts. Are they always like this?” Jin-woo asked. “When they were on set, they goofed around, but not all that much.”

  “That is work, and they pride themselves on being professional, but not off-putting. The threat of exposure is a mild annoyance to them,” Shin-bai explained. “It is the threat to you and Ki-tae dongsaeng that they are serious about.”

  “This is all kind of surreal,” Jin-woo murmured. “It makes the break-in seem petty and insignificant.”

  “Neither you nor Ki-tae dongsaeng have mentioned it. Why not?”

  “I guess because it’s not related,” Jin-woo said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Well, of course. I mean, what could someone who is trying to blackmail BLE possibly gain from breaking into my apartment, trashing my living room, cleaning my bedroom—and that seriously creeps me out, by the way—and then stealing all my sketchbooks?”

  “You could be right,” Shin-bai said. “However, it is still something Soon-joon-nim should be aware of.”

  “We’ve already been contacted about the incident,” ChenBao said suddenly. “The police wanted to confirm you were working here. I sent a team over to your building to speak with the landlord about it. They checked the door, and it was not forced. Whoever invaded your home had a key.”

  “A key? How could they have gotten a key?” Jin-woo said, confused. The only way to get a key was to be given a copy. Other than himself, Jong-in, and Min-su, the only people who had copies of his keys were the landlord and the maintenance guy. “This means they can come back anytime they want.”

  “We’ll take care of it,” ChenBao said, waving her hand. She then gave Ki-tae a hard look. “There are other things that need to be taken care of. We have discussed everything we can, and now we must play the waiting game to see if this person is going to back up their threats, or if they’re going to slink off with their tail between their legs.”

  “You know, watching her flash fang like that is… terrifying,” Jin-woo said as he caught sight of ChenBao’s still impressive canines.

  “Flash fang?” Cheongul burst out laughing. “I like it!”

  “I do too.” ChenBao giggled, and it just was so incongruous with her appearance Jin-woo couldn’t comprehend it for a second. “Now I do have more work to do today, so you all must leave my office.”

  Jin-woo turned to see Cheongul and Ki-tae talking, and that’s when something hit him. “Where’s HanYin hyung?”

  HanYin

  HANYIN SAT in the middle of the darkened rehearsal room, his arms wrapped around his knees. There was very little light, but he could see some of it bouncing off him in the mirror he stared at, illuminating one side of his face and neck, touching his shoulders and along the length of his arms. He’d been there for the last hour or so, ever since Ki-tae woke up and everyone had got distracted. He’d been able to slip out of ChenBao’s office without anyone noticing. They didn’t need him in there. He’d overreacted to seeing Ki-tae unconscious. He knew at the time it was an overreaction, but he couldn’t stop himself from switching into that protective mode. HanYin brushed the tear off his face. He knew he would have hurt Jin-woo if Soon-joon hadn’t said anything. He would have done anything to protect his little brother, and Ki-tae would have hated him for it.

  He hated when he lost control like that, hated how much of an animal he became, reacting to any perceived threats with violence, the way he snarled and snapped and hissed. He hated how exhausted he was afterward, how he had no energy left inside him, it seemed. HanYin didn’t like how he had to have an alarm clock wake him up so as not to run the risk of hurting Cheongul or Ki-tae, because he couldn’t seem to not wake up on the defensive.

  Cheongul teased him about being a monk. That wasn’t it at all. He didn’t take lovers because they would invariably want to spend the night, and HanYin was too scared he’d hurt them if they did. Crowds still bothered him to a certain extent. It was a confusing situation. He had issues being surrounded by people, but he loved being an idol. He loved the singing and the dancing and the whole process. He loved what he did, and he put himself through hell every time he went out to an interview or a guest appearance. He’d taken to chewing some valerian root after major concerts, just so he could not freak out when they were invariably swamped on the way to the tour bus. The door opened with the barest of sounds in the silent room.

  “What are you doing here?” he said.

  “I came to see if you’re all right,” Jong-in said quietly.

  They hadn’t gotten a chance to speak since their… encounter in the instrument room. He figured Jong-in regretted what they did. It wouldn’t be a first for HanYin, but it still hurt. He refused to look at him. He could see the silver glow in the darkened mirror across from him.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit,” Jong-in said. “You’ve been in here for over an hour, lights off, no music playing. You’re not fine.”

  “How would you know when I’m fine or not?” HanYin demanded.

  “When you’re fine, your smile lights up whatever room you happen to be in,” Jong-in said softly.

  He didn’t know how to respond to that. HanYin hadn’t turned to look at him, didn’t dare, but he could hear his footsteps getting closer. He turned away when Jong-in came up on his right. He hadn’t fully recovered from earlier. The next thing he knew, Jong-in was pressed up against his back, his legs on either side of HanYin’s. He brought his arms around him, and Jong-in placed his chin on HanYin’s shoulder.

  “If you’re trying to hide your fangs and eyes, it’s kind of too late for that,” Jong-in murmured. “I already saw them when we made love.”

  “Made love? Is that what we did?” HanYin said stiffly.

  “Yes, HanYin,” Jong-in said. “We haven’t really gotten a chance to talk since then, have we? We’ve been busy with so many other things.”

  “I figured you regretted it. Before you avoided me as much as you possibly could. If we had to be in the same room, you looked everywhere but at me. If I came into the room, you made an exit as soon as possible,” HanYin said, his voice cold. “Was I just scratching an itch for you? Would any willing body have done at that moment?”

  “Are you trying to pick a fight with me?” Jong-in asked, his surprise clear in tone. “No, I was not just scratching an itch.”

  HanYin shot to his feet. He couldn’t stay pressed against Jong-in while they talked like this. He couldn’t stop the tremors that wracked his body when he was close, and HanYin didn’t want him to know how badly their contact affected him. He couldn’t seem to get control, couldn’t seem to pull back the beast inside him.

  “Perhaps that’s all it should be, dongsaeng,” he said, turning to face Jong-in. “You don’t want to be involved with someone… like me.”

  “Good thing you don’t make decisions for me, then,” Jong-in said. “I think I’ll stick around, thanks. I didn’t say to hell with hiding how I feel and make love to you, only to go back to the way things were before. And we’re past honorifics. Either call me Jong-in-a or just Jong-in. Your choice.”

  HanYin didn’t think. He just reacted. He pinned Jong-in against the wall, his entire body pressed against Jong-in’s, holding his wrists above his head. His fangs scraped his lips. “Don’t you get it? I’m dangerous
.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Jong-in said as his eyes flashed.

  “I could hurt you,” HanYin whispered softly, laying his forehead against Jong-in’s shoulder as he let his hands slide away from his wrists. HanYin gripped the material of Jong-in’s shirt at his waist.

  “HanYin,” Jong-in murmured, turning to kiss his temple, gently stroking HanYin’s hair.

  “I can’t even have you sleep in my bed for fear of hurting you,” HanYin said softly. “I want to wake up with you in my arms… and I can’t because I always wake up violently.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “No.” HanYin lifted his head, staring into Jong-in’s eyes. He desperately needed Jong-in to understand what he was saying. “No, it’s not okay. I nearly attacked Jin-woo dongsaeng because Ki-tae was unconscious and he was trying to get close. I was a complete animal…. I… I don’t want to hurt you, Jong-in. It would kill me to hurt you.”

  HanYin fell to his knees at Jong-in’s feet. He couldn’t take it anymore. He tried to be happy and to live as normally as possible, but he wasn’t normal. He was a Vampire. A Vampire with some serious aggression issues. He didn’t have to fight all the time anymore, but he couldn’t seem to make his mind believe that. He couldn’t stop himself from waking up in midfight response. He couldn’t stop himself from going animalistic when faced with a threat to his brothers or when they were injured. He couldn’t control the part of him that wanted to rend and tear anything that threatened what was his.

  “I just… want to be as normal as I can be, to be me, but not so… violent.”

  He hung his head, his hands curled into fists on his thighs, the claws digging into his palms and drawing blood. The coppery scent filled the air, and he didn’t care. He watched the tears splash on the backs of his hands, raining dark spots on his jeans. He didn’t deserve Jong-in. What good was he? He was either attacking or slinking away from someone or something more powerful than he was. ChenBao terrified him, absolutely terrified him. When she revealed even the tiniest bit of her power in the office, HanYin had barely contained the urge to launch himself at her. He would have gotten his ass handed to him, but he thought if he attacked first, got the upper hand, he could survive.