Depraved

Power In Your Proof

Minho was like someone starving. He kissed him as if the world had ended and was burning down to ash around them. If there had been something apocalyptic going on, Chan would not have noticed. His entire being was zeroed in on the human, blocking out all other sounds and scents- all other feeling.

There was only Minho's rough hands and where they twisted brutally into the hair at the back of his head- the chain of his cuffs, how it spread cold and tight along his neck. His hot skin was like sun-warmed velvet under Chan's palms.

Minho's every sound was a siren song. The short, angry way he choked in oxygen, his nearly silent rumbling hums as Chan kissed him back.

Because Chan kissed him back.

How could he not?

Pretty, pliant Minho.

The taste of blood from his bitten lip was sweet, empowering nectar. It was like dancing with lightning. The buzz of being so close to him. Every hair on his body seemed to stand on end.

Then Minho was bracing his arms on the firm shelf of his shoulders and wrapping thick thighs around his waist. Chan quickly caught behind the knee of each leg, hoisting him at the perfect height to roll into, practically painting his body to the wall.

Dangerous territory.

It was too much.

Minho tried to pull back but there was no space. He turned upwards instead, like someone searching for an exit in a room filling with water- gasping at the ceiling as the vampire nosed along his throat.

"Fuck..." Minho whispered, scraping nails along the skin of his scalp and clutching him tighter.

"Mmm."

Chan wanted to take Minho's sweatshirt off, but he didn't want to stop kneading the thickness of his legs. The weight of his loose body in his hands was almost too sensual. The things he could DO. He rolled against him, tasting blood on his tongue, feeling it thrumming right beneath the press of his lips.

Minho tried to create some friction, but he wasn't able to even separate himself from the wall. A feeling like claustrophobia made him whine, and the vampire pressed so close he couldn't even arch his spine.

"Fuck, wait. Move."

"All you want me to do... is stop. Is that right?" He rolled harder, slotting their clothed lengths together, digging his erection into the tender juncture where his thigh met his pelvis. Everything was warm and giving. Fragile enough to break apart in his stone grip.

Minho sucked in air, "You- ah- can't. Can you? You can't..."

Chan's mouth was all over the delicate skin of his collar bone, the curve of HIS shoulder- the one he'd already bitten- the one he'd claimed.

Possessiveness- so strong it was like seeing someone you hate holding an expensive trinket you loved- filled up the cavern of his chest. They were his. Jisung, Innie, Minho. Seungmin, Felix, Hyunjin. Even the hunter, Changbin.

All of them were HIS.

He was the one feeding them. Clothing them. Housing them.

They were a part of his coven. His family.

Chan felt his teeth slide out and almost bit down, deep enough to pierce the bone. He wanted to leave a mark on Minho that wouldn't heal. Like an imprint of his ownership. As deep and obvious as the brand on the human's pale stomach-

Chan froze.

Chanyeol must've thought something similar.

He never wanted to think like Chanyeol.