Night Kiss

by E. T. Malinowski

  “Hadn’t thought about that, honestly,” Jin-woo said as he rose and leaned into Ki-tae once more. He could feel Jin-woo’s erection pressing against him and walked him back toward the bed. When his knees connected with the storage chest, Ki-tae gave his shoulders a little tap and sent him sprawling across the bed. Then he pounced and returned the favor until Jin-woo almost passed out.

  “And I’m the evil one.” Jin-woo laughed.

  “You are,” Ki-tae agreed.

  “I suppose we need to clean up a little bit.” Jin-woo sighed. “They’re waiting for us, probably.”

  “Yeah,” Ki-tae said.

  Twenty minutes and several hot kisses later, they walked into the living room together to find everyone staring at them. Soon-joon shook his head. Cheongul, HanYin, Min-su, and Jong-in had their noses covered with the backs of their hands. ChenBao simply smiled, and Hyun-jo, well, there was no other way to describe the look on his face as anything other than a self-satisfied smirk.

  “Feeling better?” he asked. “More… relaxed, Ki-tae dongsaeng?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Good. Come, dinner is ready,” Hyun-jo said.

  Ki-tae tilted his head as he watched Hyun-jo bring food to the low table in the formal dining room. It was odd but right to see Hyun-jo in their home as if he’d lived there all his life. Ki-tae glanced at Soon-joon to see his father shake his head. It was a discussion for another time. Ki-tae shrugged as he took his seat to Soon-joon’s left, pulling Jin-woo down to sit next to him. Normally Cheongul sat to Soon-joon’s right, if not at the other end of the table. Tonight Hyun-jo took that space, and ChenBao sat opposite Soon-joon. Once everyone settled, they began to eat in relative silence broken only by the occasional clink of plates, chopsticks, and serving spoons. Ki-tae smiled as Soon-joon and Jin-woo piled his bowl with food.

  “You’re going to make me fat,” he said looking between his father and his lover.

  “Eat,” they said.

  Cheongul laughed. “That is too funny.”

  Despite the reason that brought them together, the mood lightened, and conversation flowed more freely. They would have to get to the topic eventually, but they could eat in relative peace until that time came.

  “It is good to see you among us once more, Hyun-jo-kun,” ChenBao said before throwing a glance at Soon-joon. “It has been too long.”

  “It is good to be back.”

  Hyun-jo

  WHEN DINNER was over, they moved to the living room. Hyun-jo and HanYin stayed behind to clean up but shooed Jong-in into the living room with the others. They worked in silence for several moments.

  “You have something you wish to ask, dongsaeng?” Hyun-jo asked without looking up from the dish he was washing.

  “Yes,” HanYin admitted. He turned to face Hyun-jo after putting away the plate in his hands. “There seems to be something very different about you, and there is a change in Abeoji as well.”

  “There is,” Hyun-jo agreed, giving HanYin the courtesy of his full attention. “I have made my intentions clear to your father, and he is not quite sure how to deal with it yet. There will be a full explanation once things with Ki-tae dongsaeng have been resolved.”

  “So how long have you loved him?”

  Hyun-jo smiled. “Millennia.”

  “That long?” HanYin looked surprised. “I didn’t realize either of you were that old.”

  “The only person in this house older than Soon-joon and me is ChenBao-chan,” Hyun-jo said.

  “You’ve loved him for so long, but you haven’t lived here for as long as I can remember. Yet Lăodà niáng’s words imply you once lived with him.”

  “Soon-joon is a complicated man, and sometimes he thinks too much and allows himself very little in the way of happiness he feels he does not deserve. Your father is confident in most every aspect of his life, save where I am concerned. In this he doubts himself. I have been waiting for him to come to terms with it on his own. I am done waiting.”

  “This should be interesting,” HanYin said.

  “Yes,” Hyun-jo said as they turned back to their task and finished it in short time.

  HanYin went ahead, Hyun-jo following slowly behind. He looked at the people spread about the room and felt both happy and sad. What had brought them together this evening was a chilling part of Ki-tae’s past. It bled through in aspects of his life even now. Cheongul still fought to control his anger, pulling away from forming true relationships to do so. At least until this tiny little slip of a woman with a feisty temper and a strong will turned his world upside down.

  “Okay, I can’t take it anymore,” Jin-woo said suddenly from his spot tucked against Ki-tae’s side. “Hyun-jo seonbae, Ki-tae tells me that’s not a wig, but since we met, your hair has been short. What is with the traditional robes?”

  “Ah, so you wish the truth of me?” he asked as he glanced at Soon-joon. “Then I will share it. I would be honored if we would speak more familiarly with each other.”

  They all nodded and he let his glamour completely fall, feeling the weight lift from him. In the last several years, it was rare for him to remove it, and to do so was… freeing, somehow. He swished his tails back and forth and twitched his ears as he shook out his hair.

  “Oh wow,” HanYin said. “You’re a Húli jīng.”

  “My ears aren’t white, but we have the same eye color,” Jong-in said.

  “You’re not old enough,” Hyun-jo said, ruffling his hair as he passed on his way to Soon-joon. “You need to reach five hundred years of age before your fur will change color.”

  “It was you,” Ki-tae said quietly.

  Hyun-jo simply nodded as he made Soon-joon move or permit him in his lap. Soon-joon chose to move, and he pouted at him slightly before taking a seat.

  “You used to curl up with me when the nightmares were really bad,” Ki-tae continued. “I thought I was dreaming about the white fox.”

  “I do not recall this,” Soon-joon said.

  “You did not know. Therefore, you cannot remember,” Hyun-jo said, and he couldn’t keep the sadness from his voice. “You had sent me from the house shortly after Cheongul-a came to live with you. I returned to watch over you both, and then HanYin-a, and finally Ki-tae-ya.”

  “Wait.” Cheongul held up a hand. “Just exactly what is your relationship?”

  “Shall I tell him, or do you wish to do so, xīn’ái?”

  “You will not let this go, either of you?” Soon-joon asked. They shook their heads. He shot a glare at ChenBao when she chuckled.

  “I warned you to make an honest Fox of him, repeatedly. Had you listened, you would not be in this position nor would you have been miserable for the last millennium,” she said primly. “This is why children should listen to their mothers.”

  “Hyun-jo and I met during the Kamakura period of Japan,” Soon-joon began. “I came across a secluded pond and heard singing. I paused and then followed the sound until I found the singer. He was lazing on a rock in the sun, singing to the butterflies and other animals around him.”

  “You always did interrupt my sun naps,” Hyun-jo groused. Soon-joon had always woken him in the most pleasurable ways.

  “You slept more than Ki-tae. You needed interrupted naps. To continue, he heard me and darted away into the woods. I only caught the flash of his tail, a beautiful shade of ebony.” Soon-joon caught a lock of Hyun-jo’s hair between his fingers, and it made him shiver, though he contained it as best he could. He doubted Soon-joon even realized he’d done it.

  “I had been traveling awhile, moving between the shogunates, and I was tired, so I camped by that pond for several days. By the third day, I had piqued his curiosity, and he came to the edge of my camp. He was such a curious Fox, asking so many questions, and we began a conversation,” Soon-joon said. “Eventually I won his trust, and we became friends and finally lovers.”

  “He built a small hut to live in.” Hyun-jo picked up the story, almost lost to the memory. “He told
me what he was, and I allowed him to feed from me. We were happy. And then my sister discovered us, and when Soon-joon refused her, she told the clan chief, our father, about us. She always was a jealous little thing, which is why she’s probably still a mousy brown to this day.”

  “Hyun-jo-kun,” ChenBao admonished, but it was halfhearted at best.

  “Not long after she left, our cottage was discovered by bandits. In the attack, Soon-joon was fatally injured, and I was hard-pressed to keep them at bay. That was when my father and the other warriors arrived. They drove off the bandits,” Hyun-jo said, his voice hitching. He could almost feel Soon-joon’s blood on his hands as he tried to staunch the bleeding. He couldn’t step away long enough to get the necessary herbs. “I begged my father to heal him, but the shaman stepped forth and said only by someone giving qi could he heal such a wound on a Vampire. My father made me choose. Either I leave Soon-joon to die and return to my clan and my studies, or I save his life and be exiled forever. There was no choice.”

  “Hyun-jo gave the qi needed to heal me, and in return lost two hundred years of his life. He was still a Kitsune, but without his magic for those two centuries,” Soon-joon said. “He gave up his clan and his family for me. If he had gone with his father, he would be a Celestial Fox by now and truly immortal.”

  “A fact you have held as a shield for the last millennium.” Hyun-jo snorted.

  “Okay, that just made my brain hurt,” Min-su said. “Suffice it to say, you met, fell in love, and have been together for a really long freaking time. Then Soon-joon-nim sent you away, but it still doesn’t really explain what your relationship is now.”

  “When I gave my qi to save him, Soon-joon became my bonded mate as he was meant to be. Otherwise, the bond wouldn’t have taken,” Hyun-jo said with a smile, and then it turned feral. “And now I’m reclaiming my place in his life… whether he likes it or not.”

  “So all that time, and you’ve just been on the sidelines?” Min-su looked at Soon-joon and narrowed her eyes. Cheongul slapped his hand over her mouth before she could say anything else.

  “Please remember that is my father you’re about to rip into. Please also recall he is much older and stronger than HanYin, Ki-tae, and myself, as well as you. His patience is vast but finite.”

  Her response was muffled, but her eyes spoke volumes.

  “Good for you, Hyun-jo-kun. Now that we have that straightened out, we need to turn this conversation onto a significantly less pleasant but no less important topic,” ChenBao said softly. She looked at Ki-tae. “I know this is very difficult for you, Sūnzi. Please take your time.”

  Jin-woo

  WHEN KI-TAE turned to look at him, Jin-woo wanted to mimic Cheongul and put his hands over Ki-tae’s mouth to prevent him from speaking. He knew this was going to hurt Ki-tae, and he wanted to prevent that pain. He didn’t want to put Ki-tae through this.

  “After we were turned, we learned how to survive as Vampires. We were taught how to feed and where to feed from,” Ki-tae said slowly. “Abeoji always stressed feeding from the wrist or the thigh if we were… being intimate. If those options weren’t available, we could take from the neck, but only the right side.”

  “Why?”

  “To feed from the left side of the neck is to take blood straight from the heart,” Ki-tae said. “We are not sure why this position changes the rules, but when we feed from the left side, there is a chance we could be bound to the person we fed from.”

  Jin-woo’s eyes widened. “At the concert you… fed from my neck, the left side of my neck.”

  “Yes,” Ki-tae said, his voice so soft Jin-woo almost didn’t hear him, but he did hear the fear in it. “And when I did, I bound myself to you without realizing it.”

  “I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

  “For those first three weeks, I was pulled into your dreams. We call it dream walking. I kept wanting to search you out, to find you,” Ki-tae said. “I became… agitated.”

  “He became a grouchy ass, tired and cranky,” Cheongul said. “Well, more so than usual.”

  Ki-tae threw a pillow at him, but Jin-woo saw him smile, and Jin-woo decided he would thank Cheongul later. The comment had succeeded in pulling Ki-tae up a little bit. Then he remembered his dreams shortly after the concert and felt his cheeks heat.

  “Wow, I didn’t know he could turn that shade of red,” Jong-in said.

  “Shut it,” Jin-woo growled, and then he turned back to Ki-tae. “So you shared all those… dreams with me? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I didn’t know how to, and I…. Bonds are…. It wasn’t an easy situation for me to deal with. Your….” Ki-tae took a deep breath, and Jin-woo reached for his hands. He smiled when Ki-tae looked at him. “I’ve fed from you, from your neck, several times. I think… I think it made my bond to you stronger, and now my memories are bleeding into your dreams.”

  “Tell him all of it, Ki-tae,” HanYin said. “No secrets.”

  Jin-woo waited, his heart rate picked up. Ki-tae remained silent, his eyes wide. And then Cheongul was behind him, wrapping his arms around Ki-tae’s shoulders, and HanYin was leaning against his legs on the floor. Ki-tae pulled one of his hands away and buried it in HanYin’s hair. He seemed to relax a bit, and then he started talking again.

  “When I was very small, I was sold to a man called Sashin,” Ki-tae said quietly, his voice flat, distant. “He kept me in a dark room, chained to a bed in his brothel. It was not like those found in the larger villages. The… tastes there were outside of what was permitted in the pleasure houses closer to the cities. Each time he woke, Sashin would come to my gilded cage with its silk curtains and moldy mattress. He would… he would press me down into the mattress face-first… and force me to drink his blood.”

  “Oh my God,” Jin-woo said, seeing the image as clear in his mind as when he dreamed it.

  “I was bound to him. All I could think of was him. My sole purpose was Sashin. He could do anything he wanted to me, anything at all. There was… there was nothing of me inside.” Ki-tae hiccupped. “The older I got… the more….”

  “Ki-tae,” Soon-joon said. When Jin-woo looked over at him, his eyes were gold. “That is enough. You do not need to say more.”

  “Abeoji,” Ki-tae whispered.

  “I stumbled across that brothel in my travels.” Soon-joon’s voice was cold, emotionless, and frightening. “Sashin was a Vampire and, seeing what he thought to be someone like himself, offered me what he called his rarest treat. He took me to a room deep within the building. As I stood in the entryway, he lit the lamps around the room, the central focus of which was a large canopied bed, often called an opium bed. What I saw on that bed both infuriated me and made me sick to my stomach. A small boy, naked and chained, with lifeless, blood-colored eyes, yet he still lived. I knew he was a blood addict, and I lunged for Sashin, but he ran. I followed until I caught him in the main room, and there I tore him apart until there was nothing left but gore. Then I went back for the child. Anyone who willfully opposed me died. Those who could not help themselves were incapacitated, and those that did nothing were left alone. I sent men I trusted to help Sashin’s victims but carried Ki-tae out of there in my arms, wrapped in my coat, and he has been with me ever since.”

  “When Abeoji told me I was possibly bonded to you, I… I freaked out,” Ki-tae said, leaning his head back against Cheongul, his eyes closed as if he couldn’t bear to look at anyone while he spoke. Jin-woo’s chest constricted. He held Ki-tae’s hand tighter.

  “Those panic attacks you told me about?”

  “Yes. I… really lost my shit,” Ki-tae said. “I didn’t want to be bonded to you. No, not to you specifically. I didn’t want to be bonded at all. I didn’t want to lose myself again. I begged Abeoji to find a way to break it, to free me from it, but there were only two options he knew of.”

  “What were they?” Jin-woo said.

  “I….”

  “What were they, Ki-tae?�
�

  “I could either turn you… or kill you.”

  “Well, shit.”

  Ki-tae

  KI-TAE DIDN’T know how he was still breathing, the weight on his chest was so heavy. He didn’t know how he was still able to put words together. Just thinking of Sashin could send him into a panic. Yet he was still functioning. Having Cheongul and HanYin so close helped, but so did Jin-woo’s hand in his. He hadn’t run screaming from the house. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

  “Keep going, Ki-tae,” Cheongul said softly. “You can do this.”

  “We’re here.” HanYin pressed closer to his leg.

  “I begged Abeoji to find another way. It wasn’t fair to punish you for my stupidity,” Ki-tae said. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “I certainly appreciate that.” Jin-woo’s mouth quirked up on the side in a half smile.

  “This is where I come in,” ChenBao said. “Soon-joon wrote to me of the situation, but before I could advise him, I needed to see you and Ki-tae together.”

  “Why?”

  “We do not turn people at random or kill them on a whim. When a Vampire bonds with someone, it is a voluntary and special commitment between the two. Often the Vampire’s partner is a Spiritual Being, such as Min-su-ya and Jong-in-a. Our most sacred and rare bond is that of the Xuè Huǒbàn, the Blood Partner. The bonding begins when a human with no spiritual blood freely offers blood straight from his heart to the Vampire.”

  “Wait. What?”

  “When you and Ki-tae were together at the concert, you tilted your head. You offered him your neck. You offered him blood straight from your heart. When he accepted, it started the bonding.”

  “I didn’t mean to, Jin-woo,” Ki-tae said, his voice edged with panic even he could hear. The look on Jin-woo’s face was…. He didn’t know how to describe it. So much had been shoved at him all at once. Ki-tae tightened his grip on Jin-woo’s hand, struggling not to use his full strength in the face of his fear. He wanted to pull Jin-woo into his arms, but he couldn’t, and that was probably a good thing. If he held him now, he would never let him go, and it had to be Jin-woo’s choice.