The rush of adrenaline going through his exhausted limbs has his eyes dilating as they flick around at every little move or sound around them. Jongho is in front of him, and Yeosang sees how a glint amusedly rises in his eyes very much alike how he remembers San.

San.

The man he had learned to trust, but in the end, was doomed to suffer a painful death because of the same aching teeth rooted into his gums that he feels right now. He tastes on foul and sweet when the memories hesitatingly come back in his mind, filling empty spots that he rather wants to be forgotten. But Yeosang truly knows that it never had been him who had killed San in the first place - something dark and strange, yet so instinctively, had taken over his mind and forced him to lick blood. San could have halted him from attacking; saved his own life by only causing the harm that was needed to knock Yeosang out. But at that time, the blonde archer had believed that it would have killed him like any other dying in war. It is proved that not even fire can kill him..

Suddenly, Yeosang realises that this illness may not only be the reason for bloodthirst and foreign nature, but it must also be the source of appalling immortality that makes them invincible in ways that are making God's men pale with dread.

What if he never will find any forever rest?

Yeosang is standing on shaking legs when the soles of his feet step forward and he reaches down to help with sorting out the stolen clothes. He is hungry and tired, but he knows that Jongho is too and the awareness helps with pressing himself to move on with the task. On the contrary, Yeosang misses the feeling of proper clothes on his body.

"I never expected you to be one of a thief," he says when crouched down in the soggy grass, hands fiddling in the masses of fabrics.

Jongho chuckles and the boy's eyes fall upon the slight bow of his lips as he pulls at what must be some sort of underclothing. Then he tips his head up, gazing with his loveliest expression at Yeosang, full of adoration, "Oh love, if you knew how I spent my earliest childhood you would not be as surprised. You barely know anything about me."

Enchanting in some way but almost startling too, the words have the boy cease for a moment. Yeosang has never dared wonder the matter too much when he at some point had sensed that maybe it would be an uncomfortable question for Jongho. For the other is right. He knows only what he can see and feel about Jongho at the given time, and nothing about his past. "You could tell me."

Jongho looks up at Yeosang again, but he is far from surprised at the suggestion, rather a little hesitant, "I could, but that would surely change your view of perspective on me.."

Fairly more aware of himself, Yeosang fidgets slightly where he sits, and he swallows the lump in his throat. "If it discomfits you, then am I not forcing you to tell anything. I can wait for how long you need... even if that means that I will never hear it."

But Jongho shakes his head, "It is fine, I will tell you now. After all, you deserve to know where I came from." He leans forward and Yeosang retrieves a stack of clothes in his hands that he barely notices when the man himself starts telling.

"I was born into a common family, actually, I barely remember anything from my earliest years. But I do remember that I was the oldest child. My mother was caring and loving, she would do anything to please her children the best she could, even if that meant putting herself at last.." Jongho's face is focused on pulling an undershirt on, fingers working fast as they continue to his trousers, "I understood that things were not as virtuous as it seemed to be at first glance when my father a day had taken me with him to town, where I saw him kissing another woman. When I asked him why, he told me that I would never say a word about the encounter or then he would take me to the woods, bind me to a tree and let the wolves devour me."

The knight snorts, "Please act surprised.." he starts.

"You told someone..." the boy mutters in utter disbelief, knowing where the story is heading. "Yes," Jongho answered, "I told my dearest own mother, who all those years never had thought such low things of her husband.. I still hate him until this day.. I blame him for being the cause of our family's downhill."

"Bastard," Yeosang growls as he tried to sort out the clothes in his arms, but the task seems all too difficult at the current moment, "What happened then? Did he.. finish what he had threatened to do?"

Jongho pursed his lips, "Yes, he did. When first mother confronted him with what I had told her, there was no doubt about who the telltale was. He knew it was me; it was awfully obvious as I was the only one who he knew had seen his secret little affair," Jongho stops as if to hold his breath.

"Love is always cruel," he says, and Yeosang swears he can hear a buried past digging itself up with the strained breath of a suffering child.

Clearing his throat, he runs a hand through his untidy strands of hair and Yeosang glances down at him, seeing how he already has changed into those soft velvety attires they had stolen; and Jongho appears dauntingly much like a land's Lord, nobility.

"He bound me to a tree, his smile so wicked that I nearly thought he wanted to set the wood on fire with the torch he held in his hand. But I was a wise child. I waited until I could not see him anymore, and then, I worked myself out of the ropes with the knife I had stolen from the scullery. But my mother never died of heart sorrows.. When I finally had fought my way back to our home, it was only to discover how the black death had already had its way around every corner of our home," the knight smiles sadly, "Mother died in my arms, and I could do nothing about it."

Yeosang blinks slowly as he feels everything so violently. He is thinking so hard, that it surely is heard by the other, and yet he knows that he is thinking too little compared to what he maybe should be experiencing. The pain in the loss the other has felt is too heavy for him to breathe it all at once.

"I am so sorry, Jongho, it must have been horrible," says the boy, droopy eyes hanging low as he feels the clench around his dead heart.

Silence. He offers the other time to gather every bit of himself without pressing him to go further.

And still, the knight shakes stubbornly on his head, telling him that it already is years ago and that the most important thing is that he survived the plague, despite the days he was laying in the hands of death himself. 'Or else I would never have met you'.

Somehow it makes Yeosang blush, his arms lifting to grab at his cheeks and flatteringly hiding his eyes away from the other.

"Now, get in those clothes so that we can continue our travel. I thought that we could find an inn and stay the night?" Yeosang nods agreeing and with the help of Jongho, shaky hands put his skin in clothes again.

But all suddenly when he reaches down to take the last item laying in the grass, the boy realises what it most likely is and he stops mid-air. Jongho quickly snatches it and steers it around his waist. Yeosang explodes.

"A corset??! Jongho! This is women's clothing I cannot just-"

The knight hushes him as he ties it with fumbling fingers. "It will look stunning on you, I promise," a smirk then plays around Jongho's lips, "You have fine body proportions.. " he says and runs his fingers down along the lines of the matter hugging his waist so snugly, "Fret not and leave any worries be. My eyes are trustworthy after all."

Jongho teasingly leans over and presses a chaste kiss to Yeosang's cheek before pushing him into the only pair of boots that Jongho managed to steal, as the latter himself has the other pair on he had traveled in from the beginning.

_____

He averts his gaze around the heavy buildings restricting the outskirts of the middle-sized village their horses trudge into. As they pass a single man, Jongho greets him with his most polite attitude he is able to put up. And no one notices any drift in behaviour with the only exception of Yeosang sensing how eyes linger a little too long at the neck of the passerby..

All of his senses tickle, and Yeosang nearly starts pulling for air with desperation, forcing his eyes away from any living. "Jongho..." he whispers as he clenches his fingers furthermore around his reigns.

"I know, close your eyes and do not in any way smell the air," he hears the knight tell him, but it is fairly only too tempting for him to not breathe in just a single time. Yeosang let his eyelids close, his face distorted into a will that is the last string to keep him in control. But he feels the aching fangs pricking inside his mouth all together with the churning of his stomach. Fingers trembling and colours of red reflecting before his sight.

He swallows all of his distress, letting a little puff of air from his lips as he tries to think of everything else, but the sweet, fulfilling savour. Yeosang betrays his own heart.

But right at the moment, when the boy turns around, a hand is grabbing his arm and throwing him onto the right path again, the cobblestones echoing in a clatter of hooves. Something dark hollers from his insides. "Let go of me," he growls, a deep throaty sound working itself up throughout his airways as eyes sting with a deep red colour.

He feels as if everything darkens, his sight going glassy with that of a hazy surface in a way that should have told him to be more aware of the way his entire body trembles so distinctively. But it does not.

Jongho's hand retreats hesitantly, fingers clenching around his coat a last time before he leans back on his own horse. His eyes search for any known sign and Yeosang sees nothing of this when the wind rages against rapid muscles until his hands are digging down into the flesh of the passerby.

A startled outburst escapes the man only before Yeosang forcefully wrings his whole body around, feet stumbling against the cobblestones as he is pulled along into an unlighted alley. The boy throws the heavy weight onto the ground while his furious red eyes stare intimidating down at his prey who slowly backs away from where he comes closer. Somehow it must keep the man from calling for help when he instead opens his mouth and beg for his life to be spared. No other living is strolling in the village at this time of the day. "Please, I swear.. I'll do better than all the sins I have committed in the life I have been given. I promise to be a better person that my only Lord may better lay in his trust."

However, he could have told him whatever may be on his heart when looking death in the eyes, and yet, never be granted any forgiveness for what innocence his being must still retain. Yeosang's fangs ache the longer the sweet smell dances around his nose, and he decides that it must be enough prattle when the man's back sits straight up against the sturdy wall. His knees crash down against the ground and his fingers clench both wrists until the man screams in pain, trapping the body in incessant suffering. Yeosang hisses at the sound until he knocks the man's head into the wall and everything suddenly turns quiet. The pounding pulse slows down at the same time the horrified eyes fall shut, giving room for the vampire to feed in silence. That is if the footsteps resonating behind him had not been there.

But Yeosang ignores the presence fully and sinks his teeth into the warm neck instead. When skin slits open, he inhales the scent over and over, drawing his fingers away from the wrists and around the man's slouching shoulders where he presses them so hard together that he might have popped a bone off its joint. He swallows it sloppily, the liquid running down the corners of his lips as he fits more and more into his mouth. Only the strong sense of desperation fills his head with everything, yet nothing, having the cold hand of Jongho, spreading against his crouched back, makes him pull his fangs out of the skin. The rare sight of the knight; bottom lip pulled in between his teeth as he supposedly tries to keep himself from being forced by instincts - makes the boy reach for him, a hand tugging his collar down and smashing his bloody lips against those ambivalent ones. The kiss is rough and tangled, one would think it chaotic, but Yeosang forgets everything when Jongho presses his tongue into his mouth and tastes what drink he had before. The boy moans lowly and angles his head some more, causing fangs to entwine with each other and liquid passing between them both.

Arms drape around his shoulders, a hand locks behind his head, another seizing his slender waist where the corset sits as they kiss deeper down towards something they may be dying for. Athirst and madly desirous. Yeosang tugs at the other as their lips move along cravingly like the intense battles they have had in the dust of the training grounds. His eyes narrowed and brows gathered as concentrated on the pure gratification of the fierce but earnest kisses; Yeosang barely sees every arnest emotion that Jongho expresses as he devotes himself to the kisses. When the knight's licking suddenly decreases, their teeth collide with a noisy clatter, and Yeosang growls, his fingers clutching the fabrics even tighter than before, but not letting their untamed traces come to an end.

He needs more.

Tearing himself away from the boy, Yeosang sees how the knight wipes his lips with the back of his hand, blood and spit stick to the skin, but that is not what captures his sight when his eyes spring to the torpefied body that Jongho pulls from the ground and places up against the wall. The weak sound of a heartbeat crosses his hearing, telling him that the man is not dead yet, but the knowledge puts him in no different aim when every part of him wants to drink more of the blood.

Jongho bites down into the gory wound first, a hand keeping the man from slouching to the ground as he hungrily draws blood down his dry throat. Fouly, the sight has the boy keenly viewing every little tug the other makes to fill his mouth rapidlier, and he finds himself lifting his hand to caress the back of Jongho's head as he is suddenly reminded of this man's strong will to survive, even if put in such unbearable situation. His eyes turn to the side when he feels the fondle touch. Yeosang fists his hair a little as he helps him retreat from the wound, instead, directing his plush lips to the boy's again. His eyes flutter close when the sweetness oozes into his opening, and he hums in contentment of the lavish taste and fulfilling sensation swelling in his mouth.

The kiss is something that he did not know he had yearned for with a stroke this vivid, and the sense throws him off the path of consciousness; becoming unaware of the spinning world around them and all the following horrors that lurk in the dark. Yeosang decides rather easily that he loves everything about it.

Before leaving, they drain the man until none drop is left to be; dead and cold, left alone in the alley where Yeosang had knocked him out. The boy averts his eyes to the face of the man as he gets up from the ground. Grey, empty eyes are the only thing staring back at him from a face adorned in the rich colours of red. He cannot figure out what the portrayal makes him feel, and so he removes his gaze from the appalling face, settling on the hand of the knight, digging down into the pockets of the dead man. "Can you find any?" Yeosang asks and soon Jongho raises himself to his legs too, turning around to show him the jingling sound of coins shaking together in the dip of his palm. His face is hard to read, Yeosang thinks, but the calm way he pulls Yeosang to him and wipes his lips with the corner of his long, dark blue cloak, tells him that he impossibly can be more than only a little displeased with his actions.

"No more killing," he says sternly, and the boy's huge eyes are looking right into the knight's different ones as he is told. Jongho raises a brow and Yeosang clears his throat and nods lively as to convince him of his comprehension.

And he is true to his words. The rest of the way to the inn, Yeosang follows closely after the other, his hands holding around the reigns of his horse again until the owner of the inn shows them to the building where they can tie their horses for the night.

Stepping inside the inn, the man turns around, face seeming to study them both as the light from the lit candles illuminates their features better to be seen. "And where may a pair of gentlemen like you two come from this late when the sun already has fallen behind the horizon?"

"We are travelers," Jongho answers simply, pulling his cloak to the side to find the pocket with the stolen coins, "How much for the stay?"

Yeosang views the way the inn owner suddenly widens his eyes in the direction of Jongho, glancing to the side at where Yeosang stands with his stained boots that he hopes the man does not see. The rest of his clothes are hidden under his own cloak.

"A s-sword..?" the man whispers startled, his feet suddenly resting more anxiously than before, "A you sent from the Templar's Order.."

"How much for the stay?" Jongho presses, his lips forced together as to display how he wishes not to speak the matter.

Hurriedly, the owner tells them that they can stay for free, supposedly of the verily that he is too frightened to say otherwise. Nevertheless, Jongho's kindness plays him to hand over an amount of payment into the man's hand, telling him to take them and lead them to the room where they can rest. Down a narrow corridor, the owner opens a door for them to enter the small room. He steps in himself at first and lits the candles on the short table with the oil lamp that he has been holding in his hand, making colours of the room come through. "Here. You shall be welcome to find me if anything is missing, although remember that my inn is small and therefore not provides with much. But.."

The knight cuts him off, "Thank you, sir," he says, "This is more than enough." The statement makes the inn owner lower his head as he clears his throat with something that Yeosang detects as what may be embarrassment. "May the Lord be with you," he says before leaving them to the room utter alone.

The boy hears Jongho sighing deeply while he proceeds to close the door out to the corridors. For a moment he just stands, his self not quite knowing where else to put his feet in order to not burden his surroundings furthermore. He fiddles with the cloak between his fingers.

"Come here," Jongho calls, but to Yeosang's surprise, the tonation is soft, yet a little tired.

Slowly, he steps closer to the knight, mind still awaiting some kind of admonish. But a harsh, scolding voice never comes when Jongho instead caresses his head lovingly before bringing him into his embrace. Yeosang hooks his chin over the knight's shoulder in the hug as he inhales the calming scent of his lover. "I am sorry that I did not listen to you. I promise, that will not happen again.."

He can feel how Jongho shakes his head disapproving at what he is saying, "You shall not be sorry, love. Are you still hungry?" Yeosang swallows taught, his mouth already starting to itch again just by the mention of food, despite his ceased hunger.

"No, are you?"

"A little, but we will find a better resolution to that than killing this entire village," pulling away from the embrace, Jongho seeks to look him in the eyes instead. And somewhere deep down his unbeating heart, he feels it flutter, full of tingles and butterflies and sticky blood. Yeosang's hands have found the fine clothes of the other, currently smearing the even now warm blood around his fingers. Jongho leans forward and gives him a peck on his lips, "I love you." Without skipping a beat Yeosang answers him as his hands fist the shirt closer, "I love you too." It has Jongho smiling at him sweetly, the lines of his front teeth becoming visible and the motion lifts Yeosang's previous heavy features with a soft relish.

Jongho steers them toward the bed as he speaks, "Do you want some of your clothes off?" The boy shakes his head, just collapsing down into the hard surface of the bed when he reaches it. He lifts his head to look up at Jongho bustling around to fetch one of the candleholders in the window and placing it on the short table beside the bed instead. Then he views how the map comes into his sight, and the boy bites the inside of his cheek as he pulls himself to sit beside the other. Raking his eyes across the parchment that Jongho slowly unfolds, he would surely have been holding his breath fiercely, if he still had been breathing the air. "Sorry," he puffs sadly when he sees how almost every expanding line has disappeared from the map's surface, now only showing parts of it melding into blotches of smeared ink.

"There is nothing we can do about it," Jongho mutters equally as upset about the matter. He puts away the map before turning to blow at the candle. Soon the smell of smoke lays like a calming layer around in the cramped room. Yeosang throws his arms around the knight, pulling him down to lay as he settles them both underneath his cloak.

⚔︎