changer ❧ j.sc | ✔

book two ❧ [xi]

"I think I made it out more marked up than you, you know," Sungchan called out to you from the bathroom the next morning.

"Really?" You replied just as loudly, amusement in your tone as you stretched leisurely in his sheets.

"Shotaro's going to be concerned for my wellbeing at this rate."

Sitting up and scooting towards the corner of his bed closest to the mirror, you checked out your own reflection as you imagined he was currently doing, your fingers trailing over the dark bite mark now set into your skin. There was no scab or blood, just the faintest ring of raised skin and distinct outline of teeth. Rolling out your shoulder, you winced as a dull pain radiated out from the bite. Dropping the arm back down, you continued staring at the mark, a certain giddiness fluttering around in your stomach. You'd have this for... who knows how long. The rest of your life, maybe.

Clearing your throat and your mind, you responded to Sungchan with a disbelieving snort, "No he's not."

"No, he's not," he agreed with a sigh as he walked back into his bedroom just in a pair of sweatpants. Which let you get a great view of the countless blue and purple hickies, love bites, long red scratches, and faded remains of crescent-shaped nail marks that littered his neck, chest, shoulders, and back. You bit down on your bottom lip, a strange mixture of pride and embarrassment welling up in your chest. Sungchan fixed you with a shit-eating grin, putting his hands on his hips. "But my parents will be when we go over for dinner next week."

"We're going over for dinner next week?!" You yelped, covering your mouth in horror, panic, and mortification. A lot of the worst of those bruises were well above the collar of all of his shirts. "Why did you let me—"

"I'm kidding," he cut you off with a chuckle, lumbering over towards the bed to flop down beside you on the mattress.

You smacked his arm as you hissed, "I'm going to kill you, Jung Sungchan! Don't do that to me!"

"Ouch, full name." He pouted.

"God, I was about to preemptively die of embarrassment!"

"So it'll be fine for them to see that," he pointed to your shoulder, "but not these?" He gestured from his own neck down.

"Different situational and cultural contexts!"

He nodded slowly, "Oh, right, of course..."

"You're half-human, Sungchan, don't pull that 'I'm-just-a-simple-werewolf' act on me!"

"I upset you. I'm sorry," he apologized, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it.

"You better be, Sungchan."

"I am, baby, I am." He gave your hand a half dozen more fervent, rapid-fire smooches. "Now are you done calling me that?"

"What? Your name?" You scoffed.

"You know what I mean, baby..."

"So we don't have dinner with your parents next week?"

"Nope. Two weeks."

You shook your head and sighed. "And so you live to see another day, Sung."

"I'm half-werewolf, I would've been all healed up by next week, you know," he pointed out, sitting up behind you and pressing a couple lingering kisses to your shoulder with your new mating bite.

"I know, I know."

He continued trailing sweet kisses up your neck and jaw. "Which means I'll also be all healed in two weeks if you were to give me some more..."

"I don't know, you just played a very mean trick on me, Sung," you teased, crossing your arms over your chest as if you were genuinely deliberating not giving in and absolutely devouring this man right now.

"I know," he murmured between kisses, gently holding your chin with one hand to turn your head back towards him. "I'm the worst."

"You are," you breathed out against his lips.

"So now that we agree on that..."