MIX-UP (JossGawin)

Chapter 21

Joe and Tong wandered down the lively street, the air thick with the scent of sizzling skewers, sweet pastries, and savory dumplings. 

Neon signs glowed overhead, casting soft light on the crowded food stalls. They laughed as they moved from vendor to vendor, trying bites of everything—crispy fried dumplings, spicy skewers, and sugary treats that melted on their tongues.

"This one's better," Joe said, holding up a skewer of grilled meat.

Tong smirked, mouth full of dumpling. "Nah, this wins." He gestured to his plate of steaming buns, the juices dripping down his fingers.

Stuffed and content, they meandered into a quaint bookstore tucked between the food stalls. The quiet hum of pages turning replaced the street noise as they browsed the shelves, occasionally holding up a book to the other with a grin.

Their next stop was the supermarket. Under the fluorescent lights, they piled their cart high with essentials—snacks, toiletries, and a few items they didn't need but found too funny to leave behind. 

They joked about the absurdity of their lives, caught between a vampire roommate and a stalker with a camera. For a while, it felt like old times, a life before Mark and Ming had turned their world into a strange dance of danger and routine.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, they found themselves in a cozy café, the soft glow of candles on each table casting a warm ambiance. They sipped their coffee, their conversation ebbing and flowing from casual banter to comfortable silence.

Suddenly, two girls approached, smiling apologetically. "Mind if we join you? The place is packed."

Joe smiled, gesturing to the empty seats. "Sure, why not?"

Tong nodded, and soon the table was filled with lighthearted chatter. The girls were charming, their laughter infectious, and for a fleeting moment, Joe and Tong forgot the chaos waiting for them back home.

but....

When Tong finally walked through the door of their apartment, the peaceful façade shattered. Mark moved with inhuman speed, pinning Tong against the wall before the door fully closed.

"I'm hungry," Mark growled, his voice a low rumble that sent a jolt through Tong. 

Before Tong could utter a word, Mark's lips crashed onto his with a brutal intensity.

Tong's initial instinct was to push Mark away, but the sheer force of the kiss left him breathless. Mark's hands gripped his shoulders, firm but not painful, as if claiming him. 

His mouth was insistent, demanding, parting Tong's lips with a hunger that had nothing to do with blood.

Tong gasped against the onslaught, but Mark's tongue slid against his, tasting, teasing, drawing soft whimpers from him. 

Tong's mind screamed for clarity, but his body betrayed him, his hands clutching at Mark's shirt, fingers curling into the fabric as if seeking an anchor in the storm.

Mark's teeth grazed Tong's lower lip, sharp but careful, the sensation sending a shiver down Tong's spine. He didn't bite—just teased the skin, savoring the reaction. 

There was no blood, only heat, only the wicked slide of lips and tongue, and the growing haze in Tong's mind.

Despite the fierce beginning, Mark's movements softened, the kiss slowing into something languid, possessive yet tender. 

He cradled Tong's face in his hands, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as he deepened the kiss, not with urgency but with a strange kind of devotion.

Tong's breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as the kiss ended. Mark lingered, lips brushing over Tong's mouth, before pulling back just enough to lick the faint mark left on his lip. 

Tong's eyes fluttered open, meeting Mark's gaze, which gleamed with something dark and satisfied.

"You're insane," Tong whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and something else he couldn't name.

Mark chuckled, the sound low and amused. "Go to sleep," he murmured, the words both a command and a promise. 

His grin widened, mischievous and triumphant, as if he already knew that Tong wouldn't forget the kiss anytime soon.

Tong stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest as Mark stepped away, sauntering toward the couch with the ease of a predator who had just tasted victory.

"Goodnight, Tong," Mark said softly, settling back into the sofa, his smirk lingering.

Tong's knees buckled slightly, and he collapsed onto the bed, his mind still spinning. The kiss burned on his lips, and despite the confusion clawing at him, he couldn't help but feel the faintest trace of longing.

Mark lounged on the sofa, his eyes gleaming faintly in the darkness, their eerie glow the only light in the room. 

He watched Tong sleep, the steady rise and fall of his chest like a rhythmic lullaby. 

Tong mumbled something incoherent, shifting slightly, his brow furrowing before smoothing into peaceful rest.

Mark's lips curled into a smug smile. 

He didn't need sleep, not the way humans did, but he enjoyed these quiet moments. The soft sound of Tong's breathing, the pulse beneath his skin—it was intoxicating. More satisfying, even, than the blood he often craved. 

For now, watching him was enough.

In the end, Mark thought with a dark chuckle, he always had the upper hand. He was a predator, born to seduce and consume.

And vampires always got what they wanted.