Fragile Inside !
Chanyeol & Kai, CHANKAI, Mature.
Tags: AU, Angst, Dark Themes, Immortality, Blood and Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, The Vampire Diaries lore
PART 1
"Everything in this world is fragile. And especially everything beautiful—but its fragility seems threatening, as if every sharp contour of his gaunt frame is a weapon. "
Kim Jongin stepped into the apartment and quickly kicked off his sneakers. An unusual silence hung in the air, unsettling him. Park Chanyeol was never a quiet person—quite the opposite. Whenever he was home, there was always some kind of rustling. Not always literal, of course. "Rustling" was what Nini called all of Chanyeol's strange habits—tapping on the armchair while sitting and staring at the artificial fireplace, humming a song that had stuck in his head that day, or sometimes Yeol would turn on some background noise and fall asleep. Chanyeol hated silence, and he should have been home now, but the apartment was dead quiet.
Kai slipped into the living room like a silent shadow and froze.
Chanyeol sat in the armchair, as always, watching the fake flickering flames. But he wasn't tapping the chair. He wasn't singing. He sat completely still, a statue, an imprint of a man.
Nini held his breath and tiptoed forward, as if hoping Yeol wouldn't hear him.
— Why did you come back? I told you to leave me alone.
Jongin strained his ears, trying to decipher the tone. What was wrong with his... friend? The boy clenched his fists, biting his lip as he leaned his shoulder against the wall.
Yeol's voice was sharp, gritted. Jongin noticed how his fingers dug into the armrests—a predator ready to strike at any second.
Should he do something? Save himself?
Kai took a breath and tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck.
A small gesture. The tired motion of someone after a long day. But it was enough to send the aggression skyrocketing. Jongin couldn't see it, but he could feel it.
And then—the moment. The moment the prey was trapped.
Chanyeol was beside him in an instant. His eyes flooded with near-black blood, veins crawling down his cheeks. His mouth twisted into a snarl, fangs bared as he pinned Jongin down.
Sink his teeth into that neck and drain every last drop of blood. Hold the dying body in his hands, gasping from the rush of ecstasy, the satisfaction that would finally fill the void in his soul.
With a slam of his fist against the wall, Yeol shouted.
He couldn't—he couldn't kill him.
In that moment, Jongin got his chance to escape.
He whispered an incantation, the Latin rolling off his tongue, his voice growing louder, invading the monster's mind, clawing at the deepest corners of its consciousness.
And now it was Chanyeol who was afraid, because every nerve in his body screamed in pain.
Yeol dropped to his knees, gripping his head, fingers tangled in his hair as if trying to tear out the sensation of his brain melting. Jongin didn't stop whispering, redirecting the energy through threads between his fingers. He, too, sank to one knee.
Leaning close to Chanyeol's reddened ear, he murmured the final words before standing and walking away—quick, deliberate steps putting distance between himself and the monster that had hunted him like a silent shadow.
Chanyeol got up mere moments later. His heart threatened to burst through his throat, but he didn't care. He smashed the damn table with a single strike. He paced the apartment, uncontrolled, crashing into walls.
Fear flooded every part of his body. He forgot his coat, barely managed to slip on his shoes, and bolted downstairs, pushing his already inhuman speed to the limit.
He made it outside as fast as he could.
Dark claws dug into the soft flesh of his neck, cutting off any chance of speech.
Chanyeol didn't care about blood anymore. He wasn't hungry.
It hurt—like his throat was the one being slit, not the boy he cherished more than his own life.
Another piece of Chanyeol's soul withered away as the dagger pierced the young man's body, sending him collapsing to the ground like a broken, lifeless doll.
Now Jongin was the imprint of a man.
Chanyeol forgot everything again.
All desire to kill this miracle, dying here and now while Yeol couldn't move a single muscle. Cold, bony fingers of death brushed against him, circling his immortal shell—cursed to drag out an existence for hundreds, thousands of years.
And this boy, who had just turned eighteen, was dying.
Chanyeol lunged forward, dropping to his knees beside Kai.
He gripped the hilt of the knife and yanked it from the boy's stomach. A drop of blood trailed from the corner of his lips.
Chanyeol brought his wrist to his mouth and bit down, tearing open his veins.
He lifted the dying boy's head and pressed his bleeding wrist to his lips, letting his own blood fill his mouth, mixing with Jongin's.
His heart pounded violently in his chest, making it hard to breathe—so damn inconvenient.
Chanyeol felt his chest burn, the fire spreading through his body before he let out a raw, anguished scream—
And then he crashed into the wall, retreating into the shadows as the treacherous sun rose. Reflexes took over.
The vampire stared at the sunrise, at his scorched arm.
The most fucking important thing Kai had ever given him—and what did this boy do to him?
Gritting through the pain, Yeol darted back through the sunlight, bursting into the house and exhaling sharply, trying to ignore the agony.
Well, yeah. Not every day you want to die in agony, burned to ashes.
Now his own rational sarcasm made him want to vomit.
Inside, Chanyeol quickly slipped on the ring and threw on a jacket. No time to fall apart. His movements were precise, practiced—he had to get the body out before people left their cozy apartments, sipping freshly brewed coffee. Yeol lifted the body into his arms, watching as the head lolled back unnaturally. A small, desperate hope flickered in his mind. He even paused for a second, listening for a heartbeat.
Nothing at all in Jongin's body.
Yeol looked away and disappeared into the shadows of an alley, slipping around another corner before gently laying Nini on the ground.
— Let your spirits take the body somewhere you'll never be found. Would be a little weird to see a levitating corpse in the middle of the street.
"Chanyeol, you're talking to a corpse. Are you insane?"
He definitely missed Jongin already. The boy would've said it to his face.
Spitting to the side, Chanyeol turned away.
A whisper, a sudden tension in the air and Chan shrugged.
— Yeah, yeah, don't be mad. I'm leaving.
And he really did leave, vanishing, leaving behind years of his life.
He drowned himself in bottles of whiskey. He'd gladly drink himself to death if he could, but unfortunately, he couldn't die—not like this, not at all.
It seemed that ever since Jongin—who loved reading books in graveyards—came into his life, Chanyeol had started thinking about death a lot. Their philosophical conversations about how a vampire could die and what lay beyond. For a moment, it almost felt easier, but life had a way of sucker-punching him at the worst times. And yet... it went on.
Which meant there was no point in regrets.
What a drunken mess. Chanyeol stood from the bar, grabbing a bottle, his gaze catching someone's eyes. Some woman was batting her lashes at him. How cliché.
Too typical, like Jongin hadn't died but had just left him.
Maybe he should stop thinking about that damn Jongin.
The name lingered on his tongue, exhausting him. Chanyeol approached the woman and offered his hand, inviting the stranger for a quick fuck in the bathroom. Who expected romance anyway? And she was pretty—pouty lips, arched brows, blouse unbuttoned just right. A real flirt. All Chanyeol had to do was kiss those lips, feel her delicate hands sliding into his pants. But here was the problem—no matter how hard the girl tried, Chanyeol just felt... sad. And if he was sad, his whole body was sad.
Yeol apologized, blaming the alcohol, but he couldn't just leave her like that. So the quick fuck ended before it began. He satisfied her with his fingers, then vanished. Not literally—he just washed his hands and left the bar.
Great. What other heartbroken-guy cliché would he embody next?
He walked to his car and drove off as fast as he could. Chanyeol just wanted to go somewhere with as few people as possible—so he chose their spot. Yeah, more clichés.
Yeol muttered to himself, turning off the road into the forest and killing the engine, taking the bottle with him. His "diary" was spoken aloud, never written down—because he'd always thought it was stupid before Jongin, and he'd keep thinking it after.
Chanyeol thought about Jongin, walked to the place Jongin had shown him.
Jongin had seeped so deeply into his life that soon he'd start seeing him in hallucinations.
Yeol stepped onto the empty clearing and finally collapsed onto the damp grass, taking another swig of whiskey. The cold earth sobered him up, slow and gentle. Chanyeol rolled onto his back, staring at the bright stars against the dark sky.
Somewhere up there, one of them was Nini.
Yeol didn't believe in the afterlife. He knew what awaited creatures like him—like Jongin, like any other monster. They had their own version of hell.
Chanyeol rolled over and sat up, staring into the darkness of the nearby ravine. Settling closer to the edge, Yeol opened the bottle again and took another drink. Jongin had once said monsters always lurked in the dark of places like this. Chanyeol had laughed quietly and threatened to push the younger boy into the ravine.
Jongin loved reading novels, wore oversized hoodies and skinny jeans. Chanyeol just ended up giving him his own clothes because no one could resist those puppy-dog eyes—not even the most heartless monster like him.
Jongin listened to sad music or lost himself in memories, dancing in the kitchen at 4 AM to Lana Del Rey. Chanyeol loved rock, so to tease him, he'd blast Metallica and Disturbed at full volume, never letting the boy listen to his favorite singer in peace.
Jongin knew how to cry but always hid it so no one would worry. Chanyeol, hearing quiet sobs in bed, would lie still, pretending to be asleep just so he could pull him closer.
Yeol jumped to his feet and spun around, hurling the bottle toward a sudden rustling sound. He exhaled heavily, tears streaming down his face as he stared at the shattered glass. Great. Wasted good whiskey on his almost-friend. He cursed and sat back down, gazing into the darkness, wiping his tears with his sleeve. Chanyeol just wanted to turn back time. He couldn't erase Kai from his life. Couldn't believe this was how he died. He just wanted to feel those soft hands again—or let Jongin shock him, do anything, as long as he was alive.
Chanyeol closed his eyes and dropped his head. Then he felt hands on his shoulders.
And he realized—this was it.
God, he hated this—the heightened senses of a vampire, the ghosts of the past haunting him for centuries.
Which meant nothing ever truly disappeared.
Five hundred years in this body, and he still couldn't believe how deeply his cursed soul could grieve. Yeol tried to shake off the illusion, reaching for his shoulder—but the hand didn't vanish.
He's froze, listening for a heartbeat.
— I told you I wasn't that fragile.
Jongin's hands slid from his shoulders to his neck, fingers brushing his jaw as he turned Chanyeol's head to face him. Their eyes met for a few seconds before Kai pressed his lips to Chanyeol's—cold, salty. Yeol couldn't believe this was real. That it wasn't some fucked-up dream. His hands gripped, slid over the body, pulling Jongin away from the edge and into his lap. The taste of blood mixed between them, and Yeol pulled back just enough to whisper:
Breathless, his hands circled the slim waist, pulling Jongin closer as the boy threaded his fingers through Chanyeol's light hair.
— No, I just rose from the dead for fun.
Kai growled, his eyes blackening, fangs bared—but then he flinched back.
— Sorry... I'm not used to it yet.
Jongin whispered, embarrassed, and Chanyeol laughed through his tears, pinning the younger boy to the grass, hovering over him before kissing him again. He didn't even realize how strong the feeling was. He wanted to dance, to scream to the world. Everything had changed in an instant, just because this sarcastic miracle had reappeared beside him. Chanyeol stood, pulling the younger boy up by the hand—noticing the ring. The same one Kai had once made for Chanyeol.
— How did you... Jongin, you can't do magic anymore because of—
Yeah, this was his Jongin. Yeol let himself be dragged toward the forest, just smiling to himself. Though what was there to think about when the view was this good? Chanyeol stopped suddenly and yanked Jongin back into his arms, holding him tight.
Dead serious—face, voice, everything.
Jongin straightened up, matching his intensity before smiling softly.
— I'm immortal now, Chanyeol.
Nini carefully freed his hands from Yeol's grip and cupped his face, thumb brushing gently over his cheek.