anatomy of a vampire | 07
a young man returns to a small town he hasn't seen in years, and a house he hasn't lived in since before the last president was born, only to find that a stray cat has given birth to kittens in his closet.
pairing: vampire!jeongguk x nerdy f veterinarian!reader (with a special interest in the science and biology aspect of the supernatural lol)
genre: sorta scifi-ish, fluff, minor angst, some smut later on
word count: 8.8k
warnings: none in this part really <3
rating: NC-17 – Adults Only
masterlist
part 7/?
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© anatomy of a vampire is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.
With Jeongguk's explicit permission and a fear of otherwise forgetting, you pull up the patient and owner files and save his number into your phone as soon as he's left. Then, you turn your focus back to your little Labrador patient.
After concluding that he's still asleep—his gums nice and pink, the IV still dripping, and his bladder feeling small and soft as you palpate his abdomen—you decide on the night's first nap. On the way to the break room, you stop by the locker room to grab your personal pillow and blanket.
Despite sharing a wall with the exam room, you leave the door to the break room ajar to better catch any important sounds, and then you set the first of your twenty-minute alarms. The couch you stretch out on has to be one of your all-time favorites; fortunate when you and your colleagues often need quick rest. Therefore, it's not long after you've propped your head on your pillow and pulled your blue blanket over your body that you drift off. Unsurprisingly, you dream of those dark eyes.
"So, nothing else that I should know?"
"No," you say, muffling a yawn with the back of your hand as Yoongi watches. "Good vitals, should start waking up soon. I haven't taken him for a potty break yet, so he might need to go soon. That's it. I've updated the chart."
"Mhm. Okay," Yoongi says. He hasn't even bothered with scrubs, showing up in gray sweatpants and a black hoodie, pushing the most minimalist-looking glasses you've ever seen higher on his nose.
"Okay. See you."
With a parting smile, you turn. But before you can head to the locker room to get changed, a call of your name has you pausing, looking back to see what else Yoongi wants.
"Maybe I should walk you to your car?"
"It's twenty meters from the entrance," you point out.
"I know. Still."
Your slight smile grows warmer. "I appreciate it, but I'll be fine."
He gives you a short nod. "Be careful."
You return the gesture.
Only a few months ago, you'd often end your day shift with a thirty-minute walk home. Headphones at the bottom of your bag, it would be just you and your thoughts. Borderline insane in this day and age, sure, but you find that you need to process your work before you fall asleep or you won't fall asleep. Especially if the day blessed you with delightful moments such as putting someone's best friend to sleep.
These days, however, you always take the car. Especially to and from night shifts. The few minutes behind the wheel—even if spent in silence—aren't nearly enough to decompress from a whole workday, but you try.
The air is cold as you step outside the clinic, but the shiver that runs down your spine isn't a result of the temperature. Tonight, walking out of the clinic and locking the door behind you feels more like stepping out on stage, lights already on and harshly focused on you. You try to dismiss it, but you can't shake the eerie feeling of being watched. Inconspicuously, you scan the quiet area as you quickly head toward your car, but there's no one around. Either way, you hurry, locking the doors around you the moment you get behind the wheel and driving off as soon as you can.
The short drive through the sleepy town is fortunately uneventful, and you feel the exhaustion creep up on you too; it takes you three tries to unlock your apartment door. But then you remember something, sleepiness momentarily washed away.
Fishing the phone from your pocket, you begin a new text, but then you pause, thumb hovering over the digital keyboard. Was he really serious about wanting you to message him in the middle of the night like this?
Fuck it. You're too tired to overthink it: not the concept of sending a text nor the words themselves.
You: I'm home safe now :)
Pressing send, you place your phone on the bathroom sink as you reach for the face wash, beginning the process of cleansing your skin from makeup and whatever other fun things cling to it from an entire day of handling sick animals. You'll shower and change the sheets tomorrow.
Something between a minute and two passes before your phone vibrates, and you lean your dripping face over the screen to read the notification.
Jeon Jeongguk: 😀👍🏼
Staring at the odd reply until the screen goes dark again, you're not sure what you expected. A cryptic message of some kind? Maybe even something… flirty considering his last words and the way he held your hand and twirled you back inside the clinic?
You grab a towel, dabbing your face dry, and then your lips pull into a dumb smile. It's kinda cute, though.
"Hey, slept well?" Nayeon grins when you step inside the main exam room at ten p.m. the following night. You slept until three and then spent the next few hours cleaning your apartment and doing a well-needed load of laundry before you drove out to the clinic.
"Yeah, was super tired. Any plans for the night?"
Leaning back in the chair, Nayeon stretches her arms high over her head, her blue scrub shirt lifting slightly at the waist. "If I do. Carbs and TV, baby. I'm having the worst noodle cravings. Funny how I never eat noodles except when I'm like… day four into my period."
You laugh. "Yeah, I've never heard anyone period-crave noodles. I was just craving chocolate or something super salty."
"Hm. You know, I'm thinking about getting a new IUD but the last insertion was…" she trails of, grimacing. "Yours was alright?"
You shake your head, mirroring her pained expression. "Passed out."
"Fuck. Honestly, the people that claim it's not painful, I think they're just bullshitting."
"Definitely. I dread getting mine out, but it's reaching the end of its life," you answer, turning your focus to the patient before the painful memories have you hurling. "Anyway, anything I need to know?"
Nayeon rises from her seat and comes to stand beside you, her eyes following yours and landing on one of the largest dogs the clinic's probably ever seen, currently snoring in the lowest of the wall-built kennels. It's a male Broholmer; a danish mastiff type of dog with short brown fur.
"No, not really. We puked him, and I explained that the amount of chocolate isn't really dangerous for this type of dog. More specifically, this size of dog and the type of chocolate."
"Milk?"
"Yeah. Like 50 grams. Well, they weren't sure, but most likely."
You nod. "Not enough theobromine either way."
"Yeah, but they wanted us to keep him overnight regardless. He peed like… an hour ago."
"Alright. Well, I'm here to relieve you of your duty, so you're free to go."
"Thanks!" she claps her hands once before letting her quick feet take her in the direction of the locker room. "Tell Yoongi that I ate his chips."
Your eyes widen. "Wait! No, Nayeon! Oh my God."
Her laughter echoes down the hall, and you sigh. You love the woman, but she has a talent for putting you in mildly inconvenient situations. "Send a text when you're home, at least!" you call after her.
"Of course!"
Shaking your head, you sink down onto the black swivel chair she just occupied, pulling up your phone to scroll all of your social media apps. The uneventful shifts are the longest, and while you honestly wish a certain mythical creature would stop by, you haven't planned anything. You'd text him, but God, you need to preserve at least a little bit of what dignity remains, right?
However, twenty minutes into a Youtube video—an hour and a half after Nayeon left—a notification drops from the top of your screen.
Jeon Jeongguk: Knock knock
It's almost scary how your heart skips a beat and you feel your mood lift beyond what's probably good for you. Standing, you push your phone into your scrub pocket as you leave the exam room and head toward the dimly lit entrance.
Despite your previous dignity-related concern, not even embarrassment can stop your face from lighting up when you spot him outside the door. You hadn't noticed, but it looks like it's raining? Quite a bit at that.
Unlocking the door, you can't help but smile as you meet his dark eyes through the glass.
You push the heavy door open, greeting him through the first sliver. "Hi."
"Hey," he smiles confidently. "I'm here for my daily dose of attention."
You gasp, pulling the door shut before Jeongguk's even made the slightest of efforts at entering.
Though he could very well grab the door and pull it open by force, he doesn't. He just stands there, in the rain, looking down at you through the glass with a curious smile and a tilt of his head. As if patiently wondering when—or even if—you're gonna let him in.
It's such a dangerous mix; his very, very slight teasing, blended thoroughly with how gentle he is. Of course, you only take one deep breath, and then you're opening the door again.
"Don't be mean," you warn as you let him through. It doesn't help that he's wearing a black leather jacket and dark jeans, and there's a few drops of water rolling down the leather and others threatening to fall from his hair.
"Mean?"
"Yeah, teasing me for being interested in you."
He chuckles, running his hand through that dark, slightly wet hair. "Wasn't my intention. I was merely referring to myself as… what do you youngins call it these days? An attention… whore, is it?"
"Okay, grandpa."
"See, now that's mean."
You laugh, cheeks still a bit warm but the unintentional offense already forgotten.
Jeongguk's heavy boots thud against the linoleum floor as he follows you past the dark reception and back into the main exam room, reclaiming his spot on the exam table. But as he starts to remove his jacket—and you see how much rain he's actually collected—you back up toward the doorway.
"I'll be back in a second."
With a nod of his, you head toward the locker room, quickly grabbing one of two towels folded on the top shelf of your locker.
Jeongguk is waiting patiently when you return. But as you do, rounding the corner to enter the room, for a brief second, it looks like he's… scenting the air. Very subtly and reminding you of a dog; just a slightly lifted head, short inhales, and an analyzing but unfocused gaze.
It hits you that you haven't asked him about his sense of smell, and he might very well be smelling… Nayeon? God, you've never been so relieved not to have a period. It's not something you should be embarrassed about, but your cheeks heat a little either way; you wouldn't want anyone to know your cycle without your consent. You'll definitely ask about his sense of smell. …Another time.
"The clinic towels—although washed—always seem to have just a bit of fur stuck to them. This is mine," you say, throwing the towel at him and watching him catch it effortlessly. "Also clean, of course," you're quick to add.
He doesn't comment on it, just bows his head in casual gratitude, and begins to dab his hair dry. Already forgetting about him potentially smelling period blood, you watch him, particularly mesmerized by his thick, bulging bicep, generously exposed by the black t-shirt he wears. At least the rain didn't soak him to the bone.
"Who's that?" he asks, gesturing toward the massive, brown dog.
"Mo. He ate some chocolate and is staying the night for observation."
"Mo?" Jeongguk questions, brows furrowing slightly.
Having just woken up, Mo looks at you and Jeongguk before he drops his head back down and lets out a sigh so big his jowls bubble in the wind.
"Short for 'Thermostat.' Apparently, he's a splendid bed-warmer. He'll be fine."
"So… fluids?" you start—hand on the back of the swivel chair—before Jeongguk can comment on your patient's unusual name, unable to contain your curiosity any longer. "You can't possibly mean that you don't have to consume fluids at all? You mean besides the blood, right?" you ask, eyes so focused on him, you almost miss the chair when you go to sit down.
He's grinning happily, surely amused by your almost-accident. You scratch the back of your neck, feeling the heat rise once again.
"No, I do mean that I don't really need to consume them. Technically, sure, certain circumstances could force me to drink even water, but normally, no."
You feel the confusion grow, and you blink rapidly, trying desperately to understand. "Huh?"
What on earth does that mean? Normally…. no? But… other times?
What?
"Okay, so we need a certain amount of fluids in our bodies, right? For our own blood and venom and whatnot."
You nod, showing that you're following along, at least so far. It would definitely be easier if his thick arms weren't on display, big hands gripping the edge of the table.
"But normally, we don't lose fluids," he continues. "We're really, really efficient at extracting all the nutrients, so it doesn't really leave any waste that needs to be flushed out. We don't really sweat either, as overheating isn't usually a problem for us. So, we don't lose a lot of fluids. In general."
Subconsciously, you lean in. "What's the exception?"
"Just because we don't usually sweat doesn't mean we can't. My body is a lot less heat sensitive than yours. I'm fine until around 44-45 degrees Celsius, after which I start to slow down."
"As in your metabolism stalls? To prevent overheating?"
He nods, and when a strand of his black, almost entirely dry hair falls into his face, he runs one veiny hand through it. "Yeah. Basically all of me slows down. I get a little sluggish, you know, my body tells me to take it easy. And then I start to sweat; It's a bit like a last resort."
"So you can die from overheating?"
"Yeah, but it's very uncommon."
You pat your pockets, realizing that you should be taking notes. "But sweating means you lose fluid."
"Right. We can lose more than a human can without it being close to severe, but if we sweat profusely, or… get injured and lose a lot of blood, we do need to replenish it. The best way is through consuming blood."
"If you don't have access to any, though?"
"It depends on how much we need. A bit, we can pull from our venom, saliva, skin… all that. If it's bad, and there's no blood, even water will do. Or anything liquid, really."
The letters you rush to put down on paper are messy to say the least, and you hide your gaze in them as you formulate your next question. "Is there a… rage element to it? Getting fluids no matter what?"
He licks his lips, looking a little… unwilling to share when you finally look up again. "I mean… it can be. But it's rare. In this day and age especially. Water or something else is practically always available; having to feed from a human just to get fluids is uncommon."
You nod. "And when you feed, you replenish whatever you might need. The rest, you pee out?"
"Exactly. So normally, there's nothing to replenish, and just… all water is peed out."
"And that means you could also consume powdered blood," you conclude, consumed by just how amazing that is. "For a long time, just powder. No liquids at all. Everything is just circulated."
"Yeah."
"That is so interesting," you speak without really thinking, pen hot against the paper.
"Thank you."
You think even your ears heat up this time. "I gotta stop," you mumble, glancing at him.
Jeongguk chuckles, leaning back on his arms. "Don't stop, please. I never get to feel special like this."
God. For a quick moment, you let yourself drink in the vision of his thick forearms, inner sides exposed and veins out for you to admire, thinking to yourself that you never in a million years would've imagined a vampire both exist and somehow be this… masculine, intimidating, and endearing.
But also…. he never gets to feel special? As if this isn't the most head-turning man you've ever seen? The inhabitants of your boring little town all practically getting whiplash as they turn to get a second look at him? You have absolutely no doubt that the effect is the same regardless of city size.
You meet his eyes, hoping he doesn't notice just how much you like to simply… look at him. "You also said something about… super strength, was it?"
"Mhm."
"So… how strong are you?"
Humming, he looks around the room, clearly in search of something. And so do you, following his gaze curiously.
"Don't really know how to show you, doesn't seem to be anything heavy in here."
You guess he's right. While you'd struggle immensely to lift the table he's perched on, you'd imagine it's not actually that heavy. The heaviest thing inside the room that isn't bolted to the floor or wall is probably you or Mo, and you're not about to ask him to toss either of you around. While you're sure the huge ultrasound machine sits unused in the next room over, a crack in that would lead to your demise.
What your eyes instead land on is a recently opened bag of dog food, slumped against the wall. 10kg / 22lbs is printed toward the bottom. You consider it, but then you look away.
"You think that's too heavy for me?"
Your eyes shift back to his inquiring ones, and you smile. "No, even I can carry that. But it's too difficult for the… test I'd like to do."
"Huh? Why would it be too difficult?"
"'Cause—" you start, but instead of explaining it to him, you decide to just let him try. It might still provide a glimpse into his physical capabilities.
"Look," you say, approaching the bag. Using both hands, you grab it at the top, swinging it forward barely above the floor as you return to him. You could hoist it into your arms, but for such a short distance, you don't bother. "I'd like you to do an isometric hold, which is already extremely difficult with something this heavy. But this bag doesn't even have any handles or anything."
The kibble settles when you lower the bag down to the floor. Jeongguk stands from the table, listening to your explanation and watching you talk with your hands.
"So you can try grabbing it at the top here and then lift it, keeping your arm straight and parallel to the floor, but it's not really a failure if you can't. You'd have to have an extreme grip strength to do it, and that's not even what the test is supposed to—"
Like it's an apple in a plastic bag, Jeongguk grabs the top of the bag you just let go off and lifts, the kibble inside shifting audibly.
"—test… Uh… Humans… aren't built to do that," you mumble, watching with wide eyes. The fact that he can even lift it off the floor with one hand is a feat in your book, and you rush to gather your thoughts.
"…Especially not for a long time, and that is a very heavy weight to attempt it with. No matter how strong, a human man's arm will start to tremble pretty soon, like way before a minute—I think—and he'll have to drop it."
"A minute?" Jeongguk asks in mild disbelief, something you find almost unreasonably attractive.
"Yeah. For a lot lighter weights. Something like a few-kilo dumbbell. Or at least I think so; humans aren't my area of expertise. But still, believe it or not, we're better at it than say, apes and gorillas, who in general are a lot stronger."
"Why is that?" he asks, unbothered, like he's not currently accomplishing a feat deserving of an Olympic medal.
You're definitely blaming biology because the showcased strength—so much worse when you're up close and can see his body working—undoubtedly has you feeling things. Either his body heat is warming you, or it's that flexed strength and those dark eyes, watching you intently.
"Humans have longer—slower, I guess—muscle fibers that make us good at endurance strength. Apes and gorillas have shorter, faster muscle fibers. They're a lot more explosive, which generally generates more 'pure' strength. But those faster fibers also burn out quicker."
"Hmm. Interesting."
You nod, glancing back at the clock on the wall. 50 seconds. Wow.
"Can I?" you ask, meeting his eyes while reaching for his wrist.
Already watching your face, Jeongguk nods. But just as you take an additional step closer, you think you hear him inhale a breath slightly stronger than before. Not like he suddenly needed more oxygen but more like… as if he was smelling the air again.
Being so close, you don't feel embarrassed. If he has a good enough sense of smell to know that someone—who was in the room more than an hour earlier—was on their period, he should for sure be able to tell that it isn't you.
But if it had been you? For a brief second, you consider what bleeding around him could lead to. Period blood is much more than just pure blood, but still… blood is blood, right? What did he say last time? When you revealed that you were still a bit nervous around him and his urges?
“I feel it. I can always smell a human this close. But… I mean, do you want to eat everything you pass at the grocery store? Or just the fresh store-grilled chicken?”
“Depends?”
“On?”
“If I’m the bruised apple or the fresh store-grilled chicken?” you answer, smiling just a tad nervously.
“Well,” he says, and you don’t miss how he very briefly looks you up and down. “You smell very nice, but you wouldn’t be the grilled chicken unless I was hungry and you were actively bleeding in front of me.”
Surely, he must come across menstruating human women all the time? But what if being alone with one happens to be the one irresistible temptation? What would've happened if Nayeon was still around when he arrived? Or… well… if it had been you?
Pushing those thoughts away, you press your fingers softly to his wrist, feeling for the radial pulse. It's slow, and while you didn't expect it to go ham from exhaustion considering Jeongguk's unaffected face and the remarkable lack of tremors, it amazes you.
With your eyes on the clock, you count the beats of his pulse while putting your other hand gently on his forearm. Doing your best not to affect his performance—not that he needs it—you softly run that other hand up his warm, naked arm.
There's no extra heat generated from what you can tell, but you definitely feel how his muscles are working. All the way from his thick forearm to his honestly huge, rock-hard bicep and then the impressive deltoid in the shoulder; they're all taut and firm under your light touch.
You feel the prominent veins spanning his arm, curious to see if there's an added palpable pressure anywhere, but there's not. Nothing that snitches on his muscles' added oxygen requirements or his blood supply straining to provide it. His skin isn't flushed red with effort, either.
"42 beats per minute," you conclude, lowering your hands and taking a small step back.
"What does that tell you?" he asks, peering down at you curiously.
"That you're insane?" you chuckle. "Your resting heart rate last time was 36 beats per minute, so—disregarding fluctuations—your muscles are working. It's just not a lot of added effort, it seems. No extra heat, no tremors, no added pressure to your veins. At least nothing noticeable."
"So you can tell that I'm strong?" He grins.
You nod. "Yeah. And it's been well over a minute, so you can put it down."
"No."
"No? How long are you gonna hold it for?"
"I don't know?"
You laugh, honestly a little speechless. Should you check the ceiling for hidden wires? Or hidden cameras?
"Okay? Do you wanna hold it while I write some notes down then?"
Jeongguk nods, and you go to retrieve your notebook and pen, but right at that moment, there's the sound of plastic ripping and then kibble meeting the floor.
"Shit," you exclaim, seeing Jeongguk already lowering the bag to prevent more of its contents from spilling out.
"Sorry."
"Don't worry, it's not your fault," you say, kneeling to assess the damage to the bag. The hole is around ten centimeters long and toward the bottom on one side.
Fortunately, only a kilo or so has made it out onto the floor, and so you stand up, locating the trashcan and its spare bags, one of which you then kneel down to scoop the spillage into. Jeongguk tries to help, collecting and dropping a handful of kibble into the bag.
"Can you see if there's duct tape somewhere in there?" You gesture toward the white-painted cupboards that line the wall to your left.
He nods, rising to his feet, and you hear cupboard after cupboard open. Then, he's crouching in front of you again, a roll of gray duct tape offered from his large hand.
"You're really gonna throw that away? Surely it's not bad just because it was on the floor for a minute; dogs eat literal shit outside all the time, right?"
You laugh quietly. "Yeah, while our floors are kept as clean as possible, unfortunately, it's a liability. Things like these happen sometimes, but Namjoon usually brings it home with him; his sister has like… I think it's five dogs at this point. So it's not wasted."
"Okay, that's good. I was feeling guilty."
You look up at him, endeared by his admittance. The feelings your poor heart is made to feel around him are giving you a metaphorical whiplash. "Wouldn't have been your fault either way."
You tape up the tear best you can, cursing quietly when you realize that, to make it truly secure, you should wrap the tape also around the bag. It's going to be difficult since the bag is still mostly full and thus super heavy to move even without a large hole.
However…
You glance at Jeongguk, your… friend, who conveniently (or not: it was the very feat the bag was used to test) comes equipped with super strength.
"Could you… lift this for me?"
He nods, and the only hesitance he shows as he picks the bag up horizontally instead of vertically is whether the tape is sticking. It is, and Jeongguk holds the bag away from his body, giving you enough space to wrap the tape around it, your hands grazing his chest now and again as you work.
When you deem it secure enough, you lean in, biting the tape from the roll with your teeth. And then you stand, pointing to a table further into the room. "Would you mind placing it there?"
Without a word, he obeys, and you don't miss how he handles the bag with care. When it's delivered to its designated spot, he turns back to you, appearing almost like he's waiting for more assignments.
"Thank you. Clearly, you're very strong," you smile, your ears heating just a tiny bit. "Makes me wonder what your muscle fibers look like. You evidently do great at endurance type strength, but how good are you at explosiveness?"
You don't miss how his eyes light up. "Want to see?" he asks, scanning the room again.
"Definitely," you answer, trying to think of ways to test it. "You know what, why don't we start with your reflexes?"
"Sure, what do you have in mind?"
Spotting a pair of heavy bandage scissors lying on a counter, you grab them. With your other hand, you gesture toward the exam table. "Sit? Relax your legs; just let them hang," you instruct, turning the scissors around so that you're holding them by the blades.
Jeongguk takes a seat, watching as you step into his space and gently prod the space just below his kneecap until you find the right spot. As soon as you tap the heavy metal handle to his patellar tendon, his leg kicks out. Almost as if he kicked it out before you even made contact.
"That tickles."
You smile, trying to stay focused. "Close your eyes?"
Looking up at his face to make sure he obeys, you feel your heart stutter the way it so often does when you watch him.
God, he's handsome, even more so up close. You want to say that his nose—so masculine yet almost elegant—is your favorite of his facial features, but that would mean pitting it against his dark eyes or… his cheekbones—currently kissed by his black, rather straight lashes—or even his brow bone and eyebrows. And that's without even mentioning his pink lips or the sculpted area around them, including that dimple that only pops out with specific expressions.
To not raise suspicion, you force yourself to focus. Your gaze—lingering on that glabella of his, partly hidden by his black hair—drops to your hands, and you repeat the motion you did only a few seconds ago.
The effect is undoubtedly the same, and he's just as quick to kick his leg out, but he's definitely also intentionally lessening the impact of it. Maybe he's worried about kicking you?
"You have good reflexes. Very quick, even when you try to resist," you conclude, taking a step back. Being close to him is very… intense, after all. "You can look."
It's like you can feel the moment he opens his eyes, his gaze heavy and warm on your face. When you peer up at him again, he smiles. "And now?"
You dig out a paperclip from your breast pocket, stepping closer once more and holding the small item in the air between you, roughly at eye-height.
"I drop this. You try to catch it."
At the challenge, you notice how he gains a certain kind of focus you haven't really seen before. He's quick to place his fingers just below your hand, intently watching the paperclip pinched between your fingers.
"This is allowed?" he asks, referring to the small space between your hands. Is his voice suddenly… deeper?
"Yes."
As you wait for the golden moment, trying to catch him off guard, it doesn't even look like he's breathing. He's entirely still, eyes frozen on the paperclip. You don't even think he blinks.
When you drop it, he simply pinches his fingers together, catching the bottom of the clip between them, meaning… he was faster than required.
Seeing that he succeeded, he breaks out into a wide grin, holding the paperclip victoriously.
"Again?" he asks, practically beaming.
Nodding with a smile of your own—he's honestly adorable—you take the paperclip from him, returning to your previous position. This time, you wait longer.
Hyper focused, Jeongguk only opens his mouth when something like a whole minute has passed.
"Are you gonna—"
Mid-sentence, you drop it.
"You're gonna have to try harder than that," he chuckles, holding the paperclip up for you to see.
"Fine." You take it from him once more.
This time, you opt for another tactic.
After you've held it above his awaiting fingers for twenty or so seconds, you pinch your own fingers together, trying to see if you can trigger him to close his without you actually dropping the paperclip.
And you can because he does. You hurry, actually releasing the paperclip the moment you see him put his fingers together, hoping he won't be quick enough to reset and try again before it falls to the floor. But he's fast—a human would've already failed—and you laugh, seeing him fumble the paperclip. It bounces off his fingers as he tries to catch it.
"Got it," he declares a second later, finally having gotten a good grip on it.
"Barely," you comment, knowing full well you would not have achieved anything close to that.
You sit down on your chair, notebook in your lap.
"What are you writing?" he asks, approaching where you sit. "I still caught it, if you write that I didn't, you're lying."
You can't stop giggling as he tries to peek at the words you write down, still maintaining a respectable distance. More than you've given him, but you guess he's more worried about intimidating you than the other way around.
"Don't worry, I'm noting that you have above average reflexes."
"A—above average?" he repeats, blinking in playful offense. "Not 'incredible?'"
"Fine, 'possibly supernatural?'"
"'Possibly?'"
"Yeah, three times is not nearly enough to draw an indisputable conclusion. Besides, you almost didn't catch it that last time."
"I'm offended."
Smiling widely, you keep writing. "No, but honestly? Your reflexes are very impressive, especially your focus. But there's a surprising amount of… humanity? to you. And by that I mean that while you're very clearly superhuman, you're not a machine."
"Hmm," he says. "I guess I can accept that."
"Good," you agree, putting the pen and paper down on the table next to you. "It's not meant to be negative."
"Do you want to see what else I can do?"
"Sure?"
It's so effortless, the way he leans down, putting his hands flat to the floor while simultaneously kicking his legs into the air. He tucks one of his arms uselessly behind his back and then lowers himself.
Despite not being a gym girl, you're wholeheartedly impressed. Surprisingly often, your social media algorithms put gym content on your feeds, and so you watch women and (mostly) men perform absolutely insane stunts.
But you've never seen anyone do one arm handstand pushups.
At least not unassisted and this… effortlessly. The muscles of his arm are bulging, and while he doesn't look too strained, it's definitely a bit of a challenge, even for him. His entire body works, not only to carry all of his weight but to keep his form and balance. Because you're clearly not suffering enough, gravity causes his black t-shirt to slide down, exposing the lower half of his abdomen.
"Oh, wow," you mumble, eyes wide, before you even realize. To be fair, it's mostly a reaction to his performance and not his defined obliques and abs. You're more nerd than you're thirsty.
You hear him chuckle as he repeats the motion, doing at least five more pushups before he straightens up again, only a very, very slight flush to his face. Now, there's also an attractive fluff to his black hair.
"Can all vampires do that?"
He shakes his head. "No. Almost all vampires could do it if they only practiced a little, though. It's not only about strength but balance and body control as well."
"That's so cool. I noticed you used your right hand, is that your dominant hand and arm? Can you do them using your left?"
Happy to take on yet another challenge, he gets down again, repeating the motion using his left arm. You don't notice any kind of struggle, and he's practically beaming when he straightens up, even more so when he sees how truly amazed you are.
"Do you have a dominant arm and hand? Or are you ambidextrous?"
"Uh… " he looks at his hands. "I use mostly my right hand, but my left isn't necessarily worse? Maybe it's mostly out of habit?"
"Hmm. Interesting. Close your eyes for me?"
Without a word, he shuts his eyes. His willingness to follow instructions makes your skin heat and your heart skip yet another beat, and you're certainly not wasting the opportunity to admire his face again.
"Put your arms out to the sides. Good. Now, without opening your eyes, touch your nose. One hand at a time."
You watch, seeing him find the tip of his nose quickly and without the slightest bit of hesitation.
"Good."
He opens his eyes, looking down at you with amusement brimming in his black eyes. He's clearly in a good mood today. "Are you impressed?"
You laugh. "That last one isn't all that hard if you're sober and have at least normal coordination. Watch."
To demonstrate, you close your eyes and reach your arms out. Then, you touch your nose, one index finger at a time. "I can do it too."
As you open your eyes—just about to say something about hand-eye coordination—you hear something down the hall.
Rushed footsteps. A frantic call of your name.
You turn, focus shifting to the doorway and whatever situation will appear in a few seconds. "…Momo?!"
"Where are you?! Luci can't breathe; please help!"
"Main!" you call, hands already searching for the stethoscope when you suddenly remember the conundrum you've put yourself in. You have a vampire in the clinic.
"Jeongg—"
But as you turn back to where he was just a moment ago, he's gone. Your confused eyes search the room; there's nowhere for a being his size to hide.
Only an hour and a half later—as you lean back in the rolling chair with a deep exhale—do you remember your vampire. Exhausted and emotional, Momo sits on the exam room floor with her beloved cat in front of her on a blanket, holding an oxygen mask to his face. You pull out your phone.
You: Where did you go? And HOW?
You put the phone back in your pocket. "Yoongi should be here soon. Do you want me to stay as well?"
Momo looks at you, tired yet relieved that you managed to get Luci stable. "No, it's okay. Thank you, though."
"Of course."
In your pocket, you feel your phone buzz against your leg. Momo has returned her attention to Luci, gently petting his white fur. The phone vibrates once more as you pull it out.
Despite the heaviness in the room, the words on the screen bring a small smile your way.
Jeon Jeongguk: I ran out the room, you just didn't see me because I'm so fat
Jeon Jeongguk: *fast
The bubble pops up, indicating another incoming message.
Jeon Jeongguk: 🧛🏻
While the vampire emoji is a fun touch, you're mostly stuck on the implication that he also possesses super speed. Like, The Flash kind of speed.
You: Are you saying you're so fast you're invisible?? Can't be true??
Your logic-wired brain tries to find a scientific explanation as to how he could possibly move faster than you'd be able to see. You watched the doorway, the only doorway. He'd have to be able to move quicker than light? You might have accepted that he's a bloodsucking, fang-having vampire, but faster than light?
Jeon Jeongguk: Okay, you got me. I left through the window. I couldn't lock it from the outside though so remember to do that. I hope the cat is okay.
You roll your eyes. Still, your chest is just a little warmer, even if the warm-blooded vampire isn't physically close anymore, and a small part of you wonders whether that's a good thing. A larger part ignores it.
Also… possessing the speed and agility to leave through the window without you noticing still requires him to be something definitely superhuman.
"Okay. Well, besides the flu outbreak, it's great that your work is… great."
You take a bite of your Caesar salad; your favorite out of the town's five restaurants and their versions.
"Mhm," you agree. "I like my work."
"Yes, and that's lovely. Have you met a man yet?"
You cough. While it's not a surprising question from your mother; she always manages to catch you off guard. Hand reaching for the glass of water, you take a generous gulp.
"I'm not really dating right now."
"I know, but if it happens, it happens, right? I'm sure there are many animal owners coming through? Aren't there any nice men?"
You look at her with slightly tired eyes. And then you actually look at her. Golden heart pendant hanging from her neck and hair dyed dark even though it's been graying since her thirties, she looks like she always does. And you bet you look like you always do. And you talk like always. Not about the same things necessarily, but about the same things.
You don't like discussing your love life with her, finding her optimism often a little too much, and as she's looking off into the distance, at a new patron entering the restaurant, you can tell she doesn't expect you to actually share anything because you never do. But is it her fault that she married her high school sweetheart and it worked out?
"Actually," you say, pressing your fork into a square piece of grilled chicken. "There's this… man. He found a stray cat who had kittens."
Your mother's eyes widen, and your heart fills with a certain sense of relief but also guilt.
"I've helped him take care of them."
Does it matter if it's unreasonable and entirely out of the realm of possibilities? Your mom wanted to know if you're interested in anyone, and you definitely are.
"Oh? Is he nice? What's his name?"
"He's really nice. His name is Jeongguk, but you can't tell anyone, okay?"
Of course, your mother isn't going to spill your secret; at least not in any way that counts. She doesn't live in town anymore and is merely visiting her only child. What would it matter if she told her neighbor Patricia? It's not like Jeongguk would find out and tease you for it.
"And you like him?"
You nod, gaze falling casually to your plate. "I do, but it's kinda… complicated, so even if he likes me—which I'm not sure he does; he might just be a friendly guy—it's not… it wouldn't work out."
From the corner of your eye, you see how your mother tilts her head. "Why not? Your brain is so complex that sometimes you make things unnecessarily hard. Does it have to be so complicated?"
You roll your eyes subtly as you move some croutons around with the fork. Maybe you shouldn't have told her. "He's not staying in town."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"And you are not movable?"
You sigh. You know she's not suggesting you ask a guy who you just said might not even like you if you could please follow him across the world or wherever he's moving. She's… inquiring gently whether you'd compromise for love.
"Mom. What I have here… I have a great job that I love. I don't go too bed dreading Mondays. I have such good friends that I love, and I have an apartment that I feel at home in. It would be foolish to give that up for a guy. Maybe if it's someone I've dated for years and years or already married."
"I'm just saying. I know you love your job, but this is a very small town, and I don't want you to miss out on something. There are veterinary clinics in all cities."
"I know. I'm staying here though, at least for the time being."
Seeing that she's not entirely satisfied, still worried about you, you offer her a soft smile and something resembling an olive branch. "The perfect man might come find me first, though, right?"
The texts exchanged after Luci's emergency—that he luckily recovered from—remain the latest communication between you and Jeongguk, and you don't think much of it, even two days later. Of course, your thoughts still drift to him every other undisturbed moment; any other claim would be a lie. And while you're mostly busy cooking up purely scientific theories that fit both known biology and his peculiar anatomy, you have a hard time tuning out the butterflies that always accompany.
The flying critters are even present as you steer your car into the grocery store's parking lot, the conversation between you and your mother still occupying your thoughts.
You raise an eyebrow. There are surprisingly many cars already parked outside the store considering it's almost ten p.m. on a Thursday.
No, wait.
You reach for your phone, thrown onto the passenger seat. Shit, it's Friday; that's why it's packed. You guess not working a typical nine-to-five, Monday-to-Friday sometimes messes with your perception of time (and days).
There aren't that many spots out of the parking lot open to choose from, and so you don't think much of the one you glide into. Not until you realize that the car in front of you, parked with its nose toward you, is too far ahead, and you'll have to leave the butt of yours sticking out just a tad more than you'd like. Whatever, you'll be in and out.
Should you have moved to another spot? You definitely would have, if you knew that the car belonged to your former classmates, but you don't learn that until you're stepping out of yours. Coincidentally, it's also then that you realize just how much of a lousy parker whoever parked their car is because not only is the vehicle too far into the spot, its back left wheel is entirely inside an adjoining one.
Either way, it's too late to move.
"Oh, hey!"
You curse to yourself. They're approaching the back of their car, fittingly standing between you and the store. Whatever, you'll just be polite.
"Hi," you answer, briefly taking in the sight of the three men loaded with supplies.
"How's it going?" Mingyu asks, looking surprisingly genuine.
"It's fine. You're having a party?" you nod toward the stacked pastry boxes in DK's hands that you recognize as the store-baked ones. There must be six of them, almost more than he can carry.
The biggest party clue, however, is probably the alcohol; all men carry multiple plastic bags that sound suspiciously much like glass bottles clinking against each other.
Joshua even carries an additional case of beer, grinning smugly at you. "Just a small one to celebrate the anniversary and DK's published paper."
Considering the amount of supplies, it's not that small. It's probably just you they haven't invited.
"What about you? Gotten anything published? Any… exciting discoveries? Like a… werewolf or something?"
The snickers that follow has you feeling like you're in elementary school. Not even your own—because even the nine year old kids there were nicer than this—but the stereotypical elementary school in movies.
But what can you do? Telling them about Jeongguk, even if you had his permission, which you don't, is out of the question. It wouldn't help; If anything, it would make it worse. So all you do is roll your eyes, wishing they'd either get inside their car so you could squeeze past, or just shut up so you're socially allowed to round the cars next to you and leave that way.
But even before their teasing laughter dies down, you hear a sound. It's very distinct; something heavy being dragged against asphalt.
"Having a hard time parking within the lines?"
It's Jeongguk's voice, and as your eyes find him behind the guys, at the back of their car, you also see that he's the source of the sound.
Or rather, their car is, as he's picked up the back of it with one hand to adjust within the parking space, the locked front tires dragging against the ground as he pulls it back and slightly to the right.
Your classmates turn to look too, but just as they've quieted down to take in the scene in front of them, it's over; the car casually dropped to bounce on its tires.
You're about just as stunned, but before anyone can say anything—and like he didn't just do… that—Jeongguk calls your name.
"You're going inside?"
You nod, squeezing past the speechless men, their gazes warm on your face and then your back as you reach Jeongguk's side.
The mere thirty or so meters to the store's entrance, you spend most of in silence. Only when the guys are truly out of earshot do you voice your thoughts.
"Thank you," you begin by saying, a small, surprised smile playing on your lips. Do you think your lovely friends would've hurt you? No, but seeing them anywhere is the opposite of a fun situation. "Are you… supposed to do that, though?"
"Not really. But who are they supposed to tell?" he answers with a smile of his own, his voice low as you enter the store. "They've made damn sure no one's believing anything of the kind, right?"
"That's true," you agree. It then hits you just what actually happened, and you let out a snicker. "I can't even imagine what they're thinking right now."
You glance at the wall that separates you from the parking lot. Are they still standing there or have they gotten into the car? Are they quiet? Pretending like nothing happened? Or are they desperately trying to explain among themselves what the hell they just saw? They're scientists just like you; they know what Jeongguk did isn't humanly possible. It surprised you too—you had no idea he was that strong—but you at least knew something superhuman existed in town.
Jeongguk chuckles too. "I'd imagine they at least think twice before harassing you again."
"I wouldn't call it harassing…" you argue quietly, following him mindlessly inside the store. "So many people go through worse things."
"I would. Three grown men taunting a lone woman in a parking lot? You don't do that."
You don't say anything to that because, yeah, he's right. At the least, they're assholes.
Despite cat food being like… the main thing Jeongguk would need from a grocery store, you're almost surprised when that's where he leads you. You're entirely in your thoughts, your eyes taking him in, top to bottom, as he stops at a specific shelf, grabbing container after container of wet food.
He's wearing that leather jacket again, paired with blue jeans on the looser side, and when he reaches for the last container, somehow stuck at the back of the shelf, his jacket and shirt ride up.
Although you've never considered vampires' underwear habits, it's still a bit of surprise to see the Calvin Klein letters on the gray waistband that peeks out.
He's just a man. The most attractive man you've ever seen, who undeniably draws you in like you've never felt before. But… he's not actually a man, at least a human man. Your eyes glide over his arms, carrying what must be ten containers of wet food for cats.
"I wish they'd make these containers bigger, so I don't have to buy them so often," he mumbles, balancing them in his arms. "Or at least so many."
"Would you… let me run some more tests on you?" you ask quietly. "Cause… I mean I knew you were strong, but… lifting a car?" Your voice turns to a whisper. "With one hand? I didn't know you were that strong?"
He looks at you, a slight smile on his face. "What kind of tests? It's hard to demonstrate unless you have something heavy. Car-heavy."
"Oh, no, I meant tests as in ultrasounds and maybe… taking your blood? If you're okay with that?"
He licks his lips, considering. "Are you going to show anyone?"
You shake your head earnestly.
"Okay. At the clinic then, I assume?"
"Yeah. You don't happen to be free tomorrow night?"
"Sure. Ten p.m.?"
You nod, already excited.
Jeongguk smiles at you again, dark eyes so warm against your face. "This is all I'm gonna get, but I'll wait in my car if they haven't left yet."
The heat spreads to your chest. "Thank you."
"No worries, I'll see you tomorrow."
You watch his back until he's out of view, and then you're just a woman in a grocery store, no cart and no memory of what you were even supposed to be buying. Just in case they haven't left, and Jeongguk is just waiting in his car for you to finish, you grab a seemingly abandoned cart, hoping it wasn't occupied, and try to remember what it was that you needed.
Ten minutes later, you're finished, carrying some groceries and the laundry detergent you were out of out into the parking lot. The spot in front of your car is empty, and as you look around, you don't see the black SUV you assume Jeongguk drove there either.
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