#but i wanted to put bojan in red

[darkcreamz95]

🌙 Raya/Eid starts today so of course I have to draw the JO bois wearing Baju Melayu or Baju Raya~

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

If you are celebrating, Eid Mubarak to you! Or as we say it in Malaysia, Selamat Hari Raya~

[kaarijatits]

More vampire!Bojan why not 😌

[fruitybashir]

I'm re reading holidate for the second time and im finding all these little notes that I left in the epub last time, and honestly i think me of the past was inspired for this one

oops, my hand slipped 😗

“Red please!” Bojan declares cheerfully as he slaps down a “+4” with a colour wheel. “And I am down to my last card.”

There’s a collective groan around the table and Bojan bounces up and down on the couch next to Kris, a big, happy grin on his face. Kris is fuming. He stares down at his fan of cards. Lots of green, some yellow, not a single red one. He grinds his teeth and draws another card.

“Aw, no reds? I’m sorry bejbi,” Bojan coos and presses a quick peck to his cheek. Kris feels like he might actually start biting.

Jure reluctantly lays down a red four, Jan follows with a red zero, defeat already painted on his face. Nace hesitates for a second, then a smile spreads on his face and he puts down a blue zero. There’s a collective Ooooh around the table and Kris feels a sense of righteous satisfaction that almost borders on concerning.

He turns to look at Bojan, expecting to see disappointment, annoyance even at having his win stolen from him for at least one more round, but instead what he sees is a wide grin, teeth shining, eyes wide. Victorious. Oh no.

Bojan lays down a blue six.

“Uno!”

Everyone tosses their cards on the table in frustration while Bojan giggles happily, already shuffling the cards for another round. Jure lights himself another cigarette, offering another to Jan. Jan puts it between his lips with an appreciative noise, then presses it against Jure’s to light it as well.

“I’m out,” Kris grumbles and slumps back into the couch. Jan shoots him a sympathetic look and bumps his foot under the coffee table. Kris’ patience for losing to Bojan usually doesn't last longer than five or six rounds.

“How did you even– but you asked for red.” Nace stammers, staring down at Bojan's blue six as if it held the answers. Bojan shrugs.

“I'm just that good,” he grins. Kris groans.

“You're so full of yourself.”

Jan pats Nace's thigh in consolation. “You did the best you could.” He takes a drag of his cigarette, then leans in and lets the smoke ghost over Nace's lips as he speaks. “I'm still proud of you.”

Kris wrinkles his nose as he watches them unashamedly make out right in front of all of them. Jure deals out new stacks of cards as if he doesn't even see them.

“Kris, you sure you're out?”

“Yeah, I need a break.” Kris says and Jure nods, skips his spot as he hands out the cards.

“You can be my cheerleader,” Bojan suggests, leaning close into Kris and with a giddy uplift to his voice that makes Kris want to drag him home, push his face into the pillows and shut him up. He takes a deep breath.

“Sure,” he says and turns to Bojan with the brightest fake smile he can manage. “Because you definitely need cheering on to win.”

“If I win the next game for you,” Bojan starts and does an unfortunately very good job at looking at Kris sweetly from under his eyelashes. “Do I get to kiss the cheerleader?”

Kris flexes his jaw.

“You know what?” he smiles and he rests his elbow on the backrest of the couch, reaches up to tuck a strand of Bojan's hair behind his ear. “If you win the next game, I'll wear the blue set tonight.”

There's a choking sound from the other side of the coffee table, then coughing as Jan and Nace's little shotgunning session comes to an abrupt end. Jure whistles.

Bojan's face lights up like the sun.

“Easy!” he declares, already reaching for his new stack of cards. “Fastest win of my Uno career.”

Jan shoots Kris a disbelieving look, deep betrayal written on his face. Kris just shrugs. He has a plan.

Kris leaves his arm on the back of the couch as the rest of the guys start the next round. He traces his fingers along the neck of Bojan’s shirt, just barely grazing the skin enough to cause a light shiver.

He lets Bojan enjoy his feeling of safety for two turns, then he lets his fingers wander up into Bojan’s hair. He twirls a few strands around his fingers, toys with them, then runs his fingers down again, along the side of Bojan’s neck and over his collarbones.

“Kris…” Bojan mumbles and his shoulder twitches, trying to shrug off Kris. He puts down a red seven, concentrating on the cards in his hands and closely watching what colours the others follow up with.

Kris has no intention of letting up anytime soon. He’s barely even started. He dips his hand under the hem of Bojan’s shirt, pressing his palm flat against the other’s chest and letting his fingertips brush over the dusting of chest hair there. Bojan sighs, but other than that, shows impressive restraint. He counters Nace’s yellow zero with a green one. Kris moves in closer.

He presses a kiss into Bojan’s hair, then brings his hand up further a little, to the base of Bojan’s neck. He doesn’t press down, but Bojan still tenses against him, and Kris can feel him swallow under his fingers. Bojan has to draw two cards.

Jan raises his eyebrow at Kris across the table, lips twitching with a barely suppressed smile. He’s definitely figured it out by now.

Kris grins, and draws his hand back. Bojan instantly lets out a breath that he probably wasn’t even aware he was holding, and Kris thinks it’s almost a little cute that he thinks he’s safe now. He runs his fingertips over Bojan’s back, along his spine and down, until he can lift up the other’s shirt enough to touch Bojan’s skin again.

“Kris,” Bojan makes, again, and there is a warning in there, but Kris knows that tone well. He leans down to press a kiss to Bojan’s neck. Bojan shivers. He hesitates, then places a green five.

Kris runs his fingers along the waistband of Bojan’s sweatpants to his sides, let’s his fingertips dance up and down, drawing patterns over the skin and he feels Bojan’s muscles twitch under his touch, his breath hitch when Kris traces over a spot that he knows drives Bojan crazy.

“Bojan?” Jure asks and there is audible amusement in his voice. “It’s your turn.”

“Huh?” Bojan startles, then he suddenly sits up straighter, letting out an annoyed noise as he rolls his shoulders to get Kris’ mouth off his neck. There’s a snort from Nace as Bojan places his “Skip turn” card and Kris is sure that if he could see Bojan’s face right now, he would find that the other is blushing.

He keeps his hand on Bojan’s side for another turn, showing at least a little bit of mercy before he brings his hand back around, rests his fingers against the base of Bojan’s spine. He lets his eyes wander over the table. Jan is only holding two cards now. Bojan is still holding four.

Kris dips his fingers under the waistband of Bojan’s pants, then the waistband of his briefs. Bojan tenses. Kris doesn’t stop. He pushes down a little further, his middle finger now resting over the dip of Bojan’s ass.

“One card left.” Jan announces on his turn.

“What- How?” Bojan stares down at his own cards, his finger worrying the corner of a “+2” card he’s holding. He’s trying so hard to stay focussed. Kris dips his middle finger between Bojan’s cheeks and Bojan straightens his back like he’s got hit by lightning. When Kris keeps shooting innocent looks around the table, he can almost see the pity on Nace’s face when the other places down a red “+2”.

Kris’s finger finds Bojan’s hole and Bojan’s breath hitches. He shivers. Kris pushes down, just lightly, but it’s enough for a small noise to escape Bojan’s throat, quiet enough that Kris is sure he’s the only one to hear it. Bojan draws two cards. Kris grins victorious.

Jure places a red four, Jan follows with a red zero.

“Uno!” he declares and the table cheers. Kris pulls back his hand and leans back on the sofa, away from Bojan.

Bojan gapes at Jan’s last card on the stack, as if they had somehow personally betrayed him. His head flies around to glare at Kris.

“You-” he starts and Kris shrugs.

“Well, that’s a bummer,” Kris says, purposely nonchalant. “I always thought the blue one really compliments my eyes.”

[anxious-witch]

Sooo, since like, literally three people asked(like I need more enabling lmao) here is a drabble/snippet from poly!JO soulmate au from August. It isn't finished and kinda a kess so read at your own risk, definitely not up to my usual quality.

Tw for alcohol, vomiting, character's drink being spiked (if I forgot anything, please let me know)

Bojan was born with four stripes on his stomach. Yellow, red, purple and blue. It reminded him of a mini rainbow. When he was little he used to trace them. Wondering how it related to his soulmate.

His parents seemed reluctant to tell him. And Bojan didn't understand. Not until his sister pulled him aside one day before he started school and explained. Soulmate marks indicated something about his soulmate, but his was special. Bojan remembered that she specifically used the word special.

Not weird, not odd. Special.

She said that since his has more than one color, it probably means more than one soulmate. That there was nothing wrong eith that, but that he had to be careful since not everyone would understand. 

She told him it was easy enough to cover with clothes, but in case he needed to, she showed him how to hide it with makeup.

Bojan hadn't been seven for awhile now. He was twenty four and he understood much, much better why his sister was so careful about all of it. At best, people with multiple marks were looked down upon. And Bojan didn't always have the best of luck, either.

He wished he could say that the reason he wanted to convince Kris to join the band was purely because of talent. Not that Kris wasn't extremly talented because he was. Bojan was already laying groundwork to ask him to join. And then Kris tied his hair back in a ponytail, revealing his soulmark.

Four stripes. Red, pink, purple and blue. Perfectly lined up. 

Bojan had to swallow past the lump in his throat. Found one of you. 

He didn't want Kris to join the band because of that thiugh. So instead he did his best to charm him. Teasing and laughing and promising. Kris agreed, under the condition that Jan may join too.

"He is my best friend and my soulmate. I am not going anywhere without him."

How could have Bojan refused?

Kris and Jan were polar opposites that somehow managed to work in perfect harmony. Kris charmed you with his cute laugh and politeness, while Jan disarmed you with flirting and downright filthy things he could say with a straight face.

Bojan planned on telling them about his mark. He really did. It was just that everytime he tried, fear of rejection wrapped itself over his chest.

What if they didn't want him? What if it would make things weird? 

He was a coward. He knew as much. He just couldn't bring himself to tell them. 

His mark ached sometimes. Especially when he saw how gently Jan would kiss the mark on Kris's neck, or Kris wrapping his fingers around the one on Jan's wrist. 

Jan made it worse with the way he wore his so openly. Like a badge of honor. Bojan suggested him to put a bracelet or some makeup on it once, to hide it.

He remembered Jan's fury to this day.

"What, do you have something against it? Do you think I should be fucking ashamed of my soulmates?"

Bojan took a step back, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

"No, of course not...I just think it might be wise not to show it off. People get beaten up for less. I don't want to see you hurt."

Jan looked at him for one very long moment. Bojan felt like he was being carved from inside out and examined.

"Let me worry about that. What business of yours is that, anyway?"

Bojan's mark pulsed under his shirt. He resisted the urge to rub the pain away. He shrugged.

"None."

They never spoke of it again. Years passed and Bojan got used to the yearing that came with being so close and yet so far. 

And then Jure came along. Bojan was still sad because of Matic leaving. That's the only excuse he had for not noticing Jure's mark sooner.

It came to a head during summer vacation. Jure joined them at the pool. And on his leg, just under his knee, was a mark. Four strips. Yellow, pink, red and purple.

Bojan heard Kris gasp from somewhere far away. His own mark throbbed underneath the band aid he put on. The lie he said was that he had a scar from surgery that he didn't want to show. Jan teased him for being vain, but no one ever questioned it. 

He and Martin exchanged a glance. Silently agreeing to leave and give them a moment. If Bojan's heart felt heavy or his mark burned, knowing he belonged there too, well. That was only for him to know.

Bojan was running out of excuses. Jure made a perfect new addition to Kris and Jan. While they certainly took some time to find a way to navigate a new configuration, they did work it out. Sometimes Bojan was so jealous he could taste it. 

Which usually meant he got hammered and left with the first person who wanted to take him home and fuck him. 

Other times, he just got hammered and called Luka through Skype. Luka who'd cursed him out and scolded him for being an idiot, but would still try and get him to take care of himself. Made sure he drank water and had a bucket nearby.

That was probably more than he deserved.

"So let me get this straight. Three of your soulmates recently got together. Which disproved your theory about them not wanting you because they are monogamous. Shocker, really. And instead of telling them now, you got hammer."

Bojan raised a finger in the air.

"And made out with a girl at the party in front of them."

Luka pinched his nose. He took a deep breath.

"And made out with a girl in front of them. Great! Lovely! What's the next step in your brilliant, self-destructive plan?"

Bojan shrugged. Luka sighed again.

"You are a menace. But you are also my friend. Which means I want you to be a happy menace. Please tell them."

"I'll think about it."

Luka shook his head and looked at him sadly.

"Sure you will."

---

He didn't end up telling them. In his defense, he really was preoccupied. Few days later, Martin told him he was leaving the band to concentrate on finishing college.

Bojan grieved the loss of another friend, as ridiculous as it sounded. While Kris and Jan loved Martin as well, it was different. They had each other and Jure now.

So Bojan arranged everything for Martin's last concert with them. And looked for the replacement. Which was how he found Nace. 

Bringing Jan along was his first mistake. Perhaps if he hadn't it could have been avoided. 

Nace fit into the criteria to perfectly replace Martin on stage. Jure even joked they looked similar enough that fans won't even notice the difference. Bojan would, though. He wasn't only losing a friend who he worked with since the beginning, but also his last line of defense. 

His mark ached harder than before ever since Jure joined in. 

He and Jan interviewed Nace and it was all going well. Bojan was finally starting to relax, realizing Nace would be a good fit. He was responsible, but knew how to joke still. They did need someone to keep them in check on occasion. And Nace didn't drink. His guitar skills were amazing too. All in all, perfect.

Up until he took off his leather jacket and stayed only in short sleeves. Showing off a soulmark on his right biceps.

Four stripes. Yellow, pink, red and blue. Bojan froze. 

"Nace," Jan said, sounding almost breathless, "is that your soulmark?"

Nace looked at him in confusion. Jan raised his hand to show off his wrist and Nace's eyes widened. 

"You are-"

"Yes. And I have found the other two. You are the forth."

Bojan felt like he was watching a private moment. Nace seems to be at a loss on what to say, simply looking at Jan like he was a miracle.

"So...only one remains."

A lump formed in Bojan's throat. His mark burned viciously. As if it was screaming: I am here!  Bojan got up.

"I'll leave you to settle...um. This. I think we can conclude Nace is a good fit by what was said already anyway. Have fun."

Jan's heavy gaze followed him until he took a turn in the alley, away from the view of the café. 

The next few weeks were torture. Watching them was torture. The way they all balanced each other perfectly. Jure's jokes and pranks contrasted Nace's mature, thought out responses. Kris' anxious energy was match by Jan's always relaxed state. They mixed and matched and still-

God, his mark burned. Bojan had too many moments where he had to excuse hinself and just breathe. Will the pain away. 

They were all there. Missing only one puzzle piece. All he had to do was go there and tell them. Just-

"Bojan?" Nace gently called out, startling him.

He turned from where he was leaning on the sink in the kitch to face him. Nace was always so measured in his movements, in his words. He told that that was because he used to be wild in his teenage years. He appriciated measured, gebtle approach a lot more now. 

"Sorry, I got lost in thought. Did you need something?"

"I just wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute?"

Bojan shrugged, even as his defense mechanisms rose up. Did he know? How would he have even realized? No. Impossible. 

"Sure. Shoot."

Nace's gaze traveled over his face and Bojan had the urge to squirm. All of them were attractive of course, but Nace and Jan had this odd ability to make him feel like they knew all his secrets. Bojan didn't have time to unpack why he was bith terrified and attracted to the feeling.

"I know this whole thing can't be easy for you. With all of us being bonded, you must feel left out. And I am sorry if I contributed to that by joining the band."

Bojan bit his lip. Oh. That was so thoughtful. He felt even more guilty about lying now. 

"It's not your fault. And I'm-I'm glad you guys found each other. It just gets a bit...much, sometimes."

Nace nodded.

"I can imagine. Kris told me you haven't found your own match yet, so it must be doubly hard for you."

God. He could just tell him. Bojan opened his mouth.

"Nace I-"

"Nace!" 

Jure came running, to show Nace a very specific cat video. It broke their moment and Bojan's sudden bravery disappeared.

He didn't tell him.

Which was why he ended up at the bar again. This time, without any of them around. He chatted up a guy who vaguely reminded him of Nace. Accidentally of course. 

It tricked his brain into feeling safe. So Bojan wasn't watching his drink as attentively as he should have.

He only realized his mistake when the room started to spin. Panic gripped him. If he went to the bathroom, he was going to show he was suspicious. But what could he do?

Now, Bojan will admit he wasn't someone who ever studied the soulmate bond. But even he knew about it. In theory. He tried to block in out of his mind most of the timez terrified of exposing himself.

But in his panic and confusion, he found it. He could feel faint flashes of what the other four felt. And he, idiotically, pushed all his fear and panic through the bond. 

The closest way to describe the feeling was smashing the fire alarm. 

Suddenly he could feel all of them. As if they they were reaching out to him. Jan's fierce protectiveness, Kris gentle reassurance. Jure's playfulness was there, even with his worry. And Nace was a warm, stable presence of comfort.

Bojan's phone rang. The guy he was drinking with seemed annoyed, but it gave him an excuse to step away and answer the phone. 

He managed to make it out of the club, to the fresh, cold air. 

"Hello?"

"Bojan, where are you?"

Jan's voice was sharp and urgent. It immediately brought tears to Bojan's eyes.

"At the bar near my apartment. I'm sorry I-I think the guy put something in my drink. Everything is kind of spinning and I swear I only had one drink! Jan, I'm scared."

He heard Jan swearing at the other end, and there was such an intense wave of protectivness that came through the bond that Bojan felt like it wrapped around him. 

"It's okay. We are coming to get you. I will give Kris the phone now, okay? Stay on the line."

"Okay."

He sat on the ground, to get the spinning under control. He was so tired.

"Bojan? Can you hear me?"

"Kris," he sighed contentedly. 

Kris had such a nice, soothing voice. Bojan wanted to fall asleep to him talking.

"Yes, it's me. Can you tell me how are you feeling?"

Bojan hummed, thoughtful. Woth everything they were feeling, it was hard to pinpoint how he felt.

"Tired. Kinda sick? Not like I'll throw up but like I didn't eat something right. And everything is still spinning."

Kris kept talking to him and asking him irrelevant questions just to keep him on the line. Bojan fought against drifting off, but it became harder.

"Kris," he whined, "I am so tired."

He gently shushed him.

"I know sweetheart. Just a bit longer. We'll be there in a minute."

The rest was a blur. He remembered them picking him up and driving him home, but drugs made everything hazy. Last thing he remembered was being put to bed and then everything going dark.

[tuherrus]

i hadn't drawn as much of these as i thought, but i wanted to put them together....i put a small list of the animals under the cut if they're difficult to parse out

käärijä - raccoon dog häärijä - pomeranian (for reasons) jukka - sphynx cat (i wanted to make the rest of the daltons like this too, but then i never did...or would they be other animals?) bojan - red fox kris - white-tailed deer jure - cat jan - panther (originally i wanted to make a black cat, but thought it would be more interesting to draw a big cat) nace - golden retriever

with the joker out boys i went mostly with vibes since i don't listen to them as much or see them outside of osmosis with käärijä enjoyers so i can't say whether the vibes i got were accurate or not lol

[saucyjothoughts]

I am very curious to know about your thoughts on this: everyone has to wear lingerie for Reasons. who's nervous and who's owning it? who's being extra revealing and who's being the biggest tease? Who goes all out and does the full garter-stocking-corset-panties combo and who just wears a little lace?

❤️❤️❤️🙏🙏🙏🙏❤️❤️❤️

Sweet Anonyboo, you do not want to know how much time I spent putting this together. Why is this my life.

(pics of boys in lacy panties under the cut)

Bojan: it has to be fuscia pink, doesn't it? He tries men's lingerie first but after realising it does not suit him, he goes all-in with a bra and stockings. The look is completed with a single rose in his mouth.

Kris: something sheer and sophisticated in clean, timeless colours. It's giving I've-just-murdered-my-husband. Underneath, he chooses panties that showcase his ass perfectly, with the robe just see-through enough that you can almost get a good look at it.

Jan: doesn't need "reasons" to try on whatever. He almost ended up in a maid's outfit or catsuit (which I firmly believe are already in his collection) but in the end I couldn't resist him in his trademark black and red, complete with feather boa for sensory playtime. Yes, it's crotchless. Yes, the collar is essential.

Nace: would like the idea, but would want to cover a bit more skin. So he looks for something in a bodystocking or nightdress, something he can hide behind until he's comfortable enough to be unwrapped - blue is fine, or also soft purple or forest green. It feels good, but he's not confident enough to leave the fitting room. Still, Jan purchases his favourite one in secret so they can take private pictures later.

Jure: can make even feminine cuts look masculine, with chains and tassels and sparkly embellishments preferred. Ideally summer colours, but I just couldn't resist the style of this darker number for him. Something with enough fabric that he can modify it himself with torn holes and safety pins. He should also be smoking, and slightly injured.

[hotcat37]

Can you make a masterpost of your Bojere fics please?👀

Sure thing!! ^_^ In case anyone wants masterlists for other pairings I've written feel free to ask and I'll post them under the hashtag hotcat fics so they're easy to find :) I'll do from oldest to most recent

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48601555 -Taming the beast

Summary: Bojan puts Jere on a leash, smut (my first ever fic in the fandom hehe)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48704995 -Hades in the dead of winter

Summary: Bojan and Jere have sex against a tree in the cold, smut with feelings

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48759034 -When I don't have you my demons are with me

Summary: Bojan gets possessive after a girl tries to touch Jere, smut with heavy dom/sub undertones

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48799324 -Crazy by his angel eyes

Summary: direct follow-up to the previous fic (but you don't need to have read that one to understand this) gentle morning sex, mild smut

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48923968 -He aimed for my chest with love in his eyes

Summary: Jere teases Bojan in the club and gets spanked in the bathroom, smut

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48975607 -Melting like an ice-cream (when you smile)

Summary: Jere eats his popsicle somewhat inappropriately and Bojan gets flustered, smut

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49027792 -Until my heart bursts, until the night is over

Summary: Bojan and Jere are friends with benefits and Bojan is too afraid to confess his feelings, mature, angst

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49134148 -Only you can make me scream and beg for more

Summary: Bojan wants to test out his new knot tying skills on Jere, smut

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49159702 -I'm reading your lips, I know what your type is

Summary: college AU in which Bojan meets and falls in love with Jere who happens to be deaf, mature, fluff, angst, smut

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52518973 -It's in his DNA (and he just takes my breath away)

Summary: Bojan really likes Jere's pink bolero and they fuck about it, smut

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52612192 -Red & white

Summary: trans! Jere has an accident and Bojan comes to his rescue, rated T, fluff

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55057165 -She's got legs, she knows how to use 'em

Summary: genderbend AU in which Jere really likes Bojana's thighs, smut

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55127158 -Nisam ti još priznao

Summary: Bojan is obsessively in love with Jere and feels deeply hurt when Jere doesn't pay him any attention, angst, mature

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49760293 -Dreams taste like you, morning smells like you

Summary: follow-up of the deaf AU including missing scenes and chapters that continue from the original story, mature, fluff, angst, smut

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58868080 -Lovely Fridays

Summary: Bojan is an ASMRtist who currently lives in London and meets Jere in a Dutch language class, wholesome, fluff

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59580700

Prompt 3: butt job

Summary: Jere tries to concentrate on his game but it's hard when Bojan is so concentrated on something else 🍰, wholesome, smut

(will update as I write more!)

[fluffyjothoughts]

Heyyy ✨ boo here! So glad you decided to do this!!

How do you think they'd be when meeting you're parents for the first time?

Ps. I love this blog already

heyyy ✨ boo!! so glad you decided to stop by! and we all know that meeting the parents can be a bit nerve wracking so let’s see how our boys will do.

Kris: He’s nervous. He’s fiddling with your hand as he drives you there, his fingers moving around your palm and drawing little shapes. He’s put on his best cologne, brushed his hair nicely and shaved, needing to look his best. When the two of you arrive, he steps out and moves to open your door, helping you out and leading you to the door. When he first meets your parents he’s slightly on edge as he hands them the gift he’s brought. It takes him a bit to warm up, using his media voice for a while before relaxing. (he brings coffee and chocolates)

Bojan: Nervous but is ready. He’s a performer after all. When the two of you arrive he asks for a good luck kiss and helps you to the door, greeting your parents with a warm smile and a firm handshake with your father and a gentle, kind hug for your mother. he offers to help around before your lunch, but gets dismissed by your mother and goes to talk with your father, managing to charm him and getting along with him. your parents will compliment his manners and your mother will say he has the aura of sunshine. (he brings white wine and biscuits)

Jan: Nervous but doesn’t want to show it. He ends up being stoic for a while before he looks at you when you park, expressing his nerves and fears that he’s gonna mess up. after a nice forehead kiss and a caress of his cheek, he helps you out of the car walks to the door. He nearly stumbles over his words for a bit but gets himself together relatively quickly, having a nice relaxed conversation with your parents who warm up to him relatively quickly. (he brings red wine and chocolates)

Jure: He’s not too nervous. He is but he knows that he loves you regardless and that you love him too. When you get to the door he makes a generally good impression on them, being respectful and getting along well with your father, but the thing that convinced them is how handy he is. A messed up pipe, door hinge, wobbly coffee table leg? he fixes it with your dad and gets the approval he hoped for. (he brings some home made white wine and grapes)

Nace: Arguably the most nervous because of his tattoos. He know ms that you love them and you’ve assured him that your parents wouldn’t mind, but a man gets anxious. He knows he’s good to you and he knows he loves you, so he isn’t too worried about that. He gets along well with your mother immediately, your father slowly growing to like him as he watches how Nace acts around you and how careful and caring is to both you and your mother. in the end he gets the stamp of approval. (he brings white wine, coffee and some chocolate)

a/n: kris gives the vibe of picking out the best gift for meeting the parents idk.

[theraggedygirl11]

Sospeso tra finzione e realtà

SUMMARY: Bojan was turned into a vampire some years before. The band met the famous photographer Damon Baker while in London and now it's time for Bojan's photoshoot, but something unpleasant happens.

PAIRING: Bojan Cvjetićanin/Kris Guštin/Damon Baker (+kind of implied poly!jo)

WARNINGS: anxiety/panic attack, blood, sex (not too explicit), angst and more angst, hurt/comfort, death/homicide mentioned, slight torture

WORDS COUNT: 4.891

LINK: AO3

NOTES: This comes from a collective work that's going on since last July or August, I don't remember. The AUs spawned on their own, we have too many and you'll find everything under the tag #vampire!bojan and #vampire!bojan storyline. So, I'd like to thank @signoraviolettavalery who supported my nocturnal brainrot in this post here, and also @touchyourblood and @nyx-aira who added a general background in this other post.

The title comes from this Italian song, feel free to go and listen to it. Here you can read the translation into English.

This is not beta-read, we die like men here! I just took what @signoraviolettavalery and I wrote, put it together and wrote something more around it

I just hope I added every tw in the tags, if something's missing, feel free to tell me and I'll add them!

* * *

“Bojan, are you sure you want to do this?” Kris asks while looking at the vampire. “You know you’ll be all alone with Damon, right? And that you’ll end up showing your vulnerable side?” 

“Yes, Krisko. I’m fine, and I’ll be fine,” he reassures him before pecking his lips. “I fed on Jure this morning, I’m relaxed, I feel good, London is showing its sunny side and I’m ready to conquer the world!” He even giggles. He’s truly in a good mood and full of energy. 

“Call any of us if anything happens, ok?” Kris looks at him, still worried. 

“Yeah, sure, don’t worry,” Bojan winks at him, then quickly kisses the others before leaving their apartment to go and meet Damon at his house. 

Damon and he already discussed about his photoshoot, so Bojan knows what he’s about to face. He’s truly relaxed, he didn’t lie to Kris. That part of his life is over, behind his back forever. 

As soon as he arrives at Damon’s, he changes his clothes to the ones they chose for his photoshoot: tight leather trousers, a leather belt with a broken heart on it, an oversized shirt and an untied bowtie around his neck. Oh, he loves this outfit, it’s sexy and makes him look so much masculine, but at the same time he starts feeling uncomfortable, uneasiness crawling up his spine. The Bojan he sees in the mirror isn’t the Bojan he wants to show to the world. He notices a shade of red in his eyes and immediately changes them back to brown. 

“Are you ready, honey?” Damon asks while getting closer to Bojan. “Oh, you look amazing, sweety. I could ride this cowboy any time! Or you could ride me,” he winks. 

Bojan giggles. He’s now used to Damon flirting with him. He likes it. “We can go, I’m ready.” 

The photoshoot starts. The poses that Bojan decides to do exhale aggressiveness and masculinity, and the more the photoshoot goes on, the more aggressive they become. He doesn’t want to, but his instincts tell him to do so, to assert his dominance over the person who’s taking pictures and the ones that will see them. He’s unconsciously showing the predator inside him that is violently ramping against the weak human surface, it wants to come out because it feels in danger. And what does an animal in a dangerous situation? It shows aggressiveness and attacks. 

The moment Damon gets closer with his camera, something snaps inside Bojan. His entire body is petrified. His mind shows him a memory he thought he had locked up in the deepest corner of his mind. He’s again in front of her, she’s taking pictures of him right after she fed on him. He’s covered in blood, he’s crying and begging her because he’s feeling dizzy, he just wants her to lick the bitemarks to close them or he will bleed off.  

But she keeps taking those pictures, she grins showing her fangs and her lips still stained with blood of the most vibrant shade of red. She’s in full control and the only thing he can do is stay there and hoping she will make him stop bleeding. Tears run down his face. He’s so scared, so powerless and hopeless. He wants that all that ends as soon as possible. 

In the present Bojan’s eyes got red. He didn’t even notice, at least until Damon brings him back from the spiral he was falling into. 

“W-What are-” 

He can’t even finish the sentence. Bojan snaps back into reality and in a blink of an eye he attacks the photographer in front of him, pinning him down on the ground. The camera slides on the floor while he grabs the human’s wrists with his hands and blocks them above his head. He growls, showing his fangs in an intimidating way. Bojan’s on top of the photographer, his instincts full in control of his actions, he can’t even recognize Damon. 

“B-Bojan...?” Damon whimpers, terrified. 

The fog that invaded Bojan's mind and finally fades away and he can restraint his vampiric instincts. He stands up faster than a normal human would. He’s afraid of what he just did, he feels so ashamed for having lost his control. 

“I-I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to-” 

He just runs away, out of the window. He doesn’t care if someone sees him, he just needs to go away, far, far away from Damon. He looks like a scared prey chased by an unknown predator. While he tries to remember where to go to reunite with his bandmates, he looks around, overwhelmed by sounds and smells and colours and lights. 

He’s panting, he’s panicking, his mind is barely functioning at this point, he’s letting his impulses rule over his actions. He doesn’t even know how, but he manages to go back to the apartment, jumping from one roof to the other. 

Bojan enters the room where Nace and Kris sleep through the window. He immediately searches for Kris’s colourful sweater in his suitcase. He needs some familiar scent around him to calm himself down. His heart is beating fast in his chest, his eyes are still red. He’s still wearing the clothes he was using in the photoshoot. 

When he finds the sweater, he puts it immediately on and lets Kris’s smell surround him. He takes deep breaths and closes his eyes. He tries to block everything else out. He sits on the ground, right next to the bed. His knees are against his chest and his arms embrace them. He’s trying so hard to look smaller. 

You are safe, Bojan. You are safe. Damon is alive, you didn’t kill him. You are safe. He keeps repeating these sentences in his mind, trying to regain control over his body, now dominated by fear and panic. He is shaking too. 

After some minutes someone enters. He’s too focused on Kris’s scent to identify who that person is. 

“Bojan?” This voice is worried.  

Soon after a hand is laying on his shoulder. Bojan winces and raises his head suddenly. It’s Nace. 

“What happened?” 

Bojan doesn’t answer, he just hugs Nace and hides his face against his chest.  

“I-I couldn’t do it. I-I showed myself. He knows-” 

“Hush, hush,” Nace gently caresses his hair after hugging him back. “It’s ok,” he whispers. “Breathe. You are safe here, no one’s going to hurt you here.” 

It takes Bojan at least fifteen minutes to calm down. He slipped, he thought he could be strong enough to face that photoshoot, but something clearly snapped in him and made him reveal himself. And he’s so ashamed of it. 

“Let’s go to the others,” Nace suggests when he sees that Bojan is a little bit more relaxed. His eyes are now brown and he stopped shaking. 

They go down the stairs together, holding hands. He can hear the others talking in that small living room, but their voices stop when they see Nace with Bojan, with Kris’s sweater and not his own clothes on. They know that something’s wrong. And Bojan confirms their suspects. 

“He knows.” 

Two simple words, but they all understand.  

“Oh, Bojč,” Kris sighs, then stands up and hugs the vampire. 

“I-I thought I was over her, b-but-” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Kris replies, interrupting him. “We’ll talk to Damon and we’ll find a solution. But now you are more important. Come here and sit with us.” 

That evening the band take care of Bojan. They cuddle with him, they prepare his favourite human food, they make him feel comfortable, safe and loved. And in the end he falls asleep on Jure’s shoulder, exhausted by the intense emotions he felt that day. 

Nace takes him in his and Kris’s room so they can sleep with him in the middle. It is a “standard procedure” when Bojan happens to have a bad day. Having familiar scents around him helps him to relax and feel safe. 

The next day Kris wakes up before anyone else because he needs to drink some water. He goes downstairs, but his attention is caught by his phone buzzing. He takes it. It’s a message from Damon. 

Damon: Hey Kris. Yesterday happened something uncomfortable during Bojan’s photoshoot. I’m really sorry. 

Damon is still online and is trying to write something else, but he keeps stopping. Kris decides to reply. 

Kris: We know he’s a vampire. He told us what happened yesterday. 

Damon: I guessed you should know, you are so intimate with one another 

Damon: Is he ok? 

Kris: More or less, he managed to sleep at least 

Damon: Do you think Bojan would like to meet me again? 

Damon: I just want to talk with him 

A couple of days later, a bit reluctantly, Bojan is again at Damon’s house. He drank blood before going, just to be able to control himself better. In a bag he has the clothes he wore the other day. 

Damon lets him in and welcomes him with a smile.  

Bojan knows Damon is afraid of him, he can smell his fear in the air and feel it in his heart beating faster than the usual. He harnesses his predator’s instincts with all the strength he has. He doesn’t want to be intimidating. 

They sit, Damon on an armchair, Bojan on the couch. They are far from each other. There’s silence between them, both are nervous. But Damon talks first. 

"Look, I'm still a little scared. I mean, who wouldn't be? It's human instinct, right? You'd think there was something wrong if I wasn't scared." And Bojan, who remembers what it feels like to be preyed on, nods.  

"But I've also gotten to know you. I've gotten to see you. I think you're a good person. And I think you're just as scared of what you are. Maybe even more."  

Bojan nods again. "This thing...it's like this monster inside me that I have to control. A demon."  

"I know a little something about having a demon inside me," Damon says and Bojan's eyes widen. Oh. "But you find ways to control it, right? To cope. A support network, friends who keep you from falling."

Bojan nods again. "Kad neman tebe, sa mnom su moji demoni," he says. "It's from our song. 'when you're not with me, my demons are with me.' My friends are there for me, and they keep the demons away."  

Silence falls again between them. Well, at least for Damon. Bojan’s ears are dominated by the constant beating of Damon’s heart, the blood pumping in his vessels that sings to him, calls him. 

Damon breaks again the silence and asks one basic question. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

Bojan sits straight, his body stiffens. Damon is curious, but his vampire instincts allow him to recognize the stance of a prey that's trying to not look nervous or scared.  

Should he talk? Should he tell him how he got turned? Should he explain to Damon why he snapped during the photoshoot? Should he really allow himself to be this vulnerable with a guy he barely knows? 

But Damon, poor little scared human Damon, seeing that Bojan doesn't talk, asks him another question, trying a new way to communicate with him.  

"How should I approach you? Like, are there movements or stuff I should avoid doing to make you feel more comfortable? Or words, I don't know. I don’t want to trigger any negative reaction in you." 

Bojan then starts talking, even if he's hesitant. He explains that his senses are much sharper than a human’s, so he's bothered by strong noises, intense lights, very rich smells, but for a brief period of time he can resist.  

"How do I smell like?" 

"I beg your pardon?" Bojan is really confused. Why that question? 

"How do I smell like? How's my scent?" 

Bojan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, focusing on Damon. The scent of fear is slowly disappearing. "It's sweet. Comfortable. It makes me feel safe, in some way," and it’s tempting, but he keeps these words for himself.  

And there Damon smiles widely. "That's perfect, because I have something for you to wear, honey." He gets up and takes this stripped and fluffy black and white piece of clothing from a bag next to the armchair. "This is my favourite sweater. It makes me feel safe and I'd like you to wear it," and stands up, gets closer and hands him the sweater, which of course is soaked in Damon's scent. 

Bojan's brain stops working because, well, he didn't expect this reaction. Damon, still afraid of him, is asking him to wear a piece of clothing that makes him feel safe. Some sort of peace offering.  

I want you to feel safe with me, even though I’m still scared. This is how Bojan reads this gesture. His hearts almost melts. 

He grabs the sweater and smells it, inhaling his scent and shivering. He quickly takes off his jacket and shirt, then wears the sweater. It’s warm and fluffly and soft. He’s immediately enwrapped by Damon’s scent. 

“It suits you,” Damon says, giggling. 

“It’s a nice sweater,” Bojan replies, nodding and hinting a shy smile.  

The vampire is really feeling safe with it on. He wasn’t afraid of Damon per se, he’s not dangerous, it was the photoshoot that made him feel too vulnerable and made resurface bad memories. 

Damon, seeing that Bojan is lulled by the comfort of his sweater, tentatively suggests "if you're comfortable with it...I'd like to photograph that side of you, too. Not for the public, of course. Just...for us. Photography is how I get to know someone, and that's a part of you too."  

"I don't want to scare you," Bojan admits.  

"I'm already scared. But that doesn't matter. I want to know you, all of you."  

Their eyes meet, prey and predator, human and vampire, two creatures completely different but similar at the same time. And Bojan feels some kind of connection with Damon, something he haven’t felt since the first time he saw his bandmates after the transformation. 

In the end Bojan agrees to this, tentatively. But he wants Kris to be there with him, just in case. Kris knows exactly how to calm him down. He will know what to do or say if he loses control. 

“You won’t need me, you're not going to lose control," Kris says while looking at the vampire. "Even if he does smell extra tasty."  

"How do you know that?" Bojan asks.  

"I know you," Kris replies. "I know that when you inhale his scent, you want." 

Bojan diverts his look and starts fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. Well, with Jan’s sweater. Having his bandmates clothes on helps him relax and push back his anxiety, so it’s easy seeing him with clothes owned by the others. 

A couple of days later Bojan it’s time for him to show that side of himself to Damon. Kris is with them, just to reassure both human and vampire.  

Damon's obviously still scared, Bojan can smell it. But he doesn't run away when Bojan changes his appearance in front of him, sharp claws and fangs, eyes of the purest and the most intense red ever seen.  

Damon admires this version of Bojan, stunned by his beauty. He looks Bojan in the eyes, and gets close, and takes those photos. Beautiful photos that capture not just the 'monster' inside him, but also the fear, the uncertainty, the angst Bojan is consumed by. How he doesn't want to be the monster. His red eyes on display and a look of sheer terror on his face...which is quite a photo, because predators don't usually look terrified. That's reserved for preys.  

Kris observes silently and not so far away from them. He’s worried more for Bojan than for Damon. He knows how much this photoshoot is testing Bojan’s self-control on his vampiric side and memories. 

And that’s why after the shooting Bojan needs time to decompress, to relax and make his human side come back to the surface. Kris, who was there the whole time, helps him, with tender words whispered to reassure him, caresses and kisses. 

Damon observes them, silently. Bojan is a predator, he could kill both of them and they could do nothing about it because he's faster, stronger, he’s built to hunt and murder his preys, to feed on them, just like a lion or a tiger. Now he’s so vulnerable, so human. 

But that scene is so intimate, so caring, Damon almost feels he's third wheeling. Kris trusts Bojan with his life because he’s keeping the vampire’s mouth so close to his neck, he’s letting him inhale his familiar scent while running a hand though his soft hair. 

Damon decides to ask another question, because in the end he's curious to know about Bojan and his kind. He saw vampires portrayed on the screen, many variants, but he's different. He's a real vampire. 

"May I ask one thing? You don't need to answer, if you don't want to." 

Bojan looks at him, fangs no more visible but eyes still a little bit red-ish.  

"Yeah, sure." 

"What's the most intimate act your kind can perform with a human? Like, how can a human show to a vampire that they fully trust them?" 

"Feeding," Bojan answers after a short silence. "Feeding directly from the neck or the wrist or any other body part. Giving freely the permission to take something as vital and as important as your blood." 

"So do you...feed on your friends?"  

Damon's starting to put two and two together. The way Jan had wanted a turtleneck on during his photoshoot. The way Jure had put his photoshoot off for days claiming to be "sick." Were they covering for the bite marks, then?  

Bojan gets a slightly panicked look on his face, and it's Kris who answers.  

"Yes. With our consent," he reaches for Bojan's hand, squeezes it. "We trust him, and we know he'd never hurt us."

Bojan gives him a shy smile, thanking him for baking him up.  

And Damon thinks about that. How intimate they all are with each other. How clearly trusting the other boys are around him. He's been around them all, seen how they cuddle, how close they get to him, how none of them is scared. Remembers Bojan resting his head on their shoulders, or face-planting into their chest, realizing he must have been smelling them, hearing the blood pulse beneath their skin. And they hadn't skipped a beat, hadn't been scared for a single second. He's never seen them too-pale, ashen-faced, too drained of blood and energy to function. Clearly Bojan is careful, never takes too much, and they trust him.  

And he realizes he trusts him too.  

"Would you like to feed on me?" He asks.  

Bojan is obviously hesitant, his entire body stiffened, but Damon immediately adds "it's how a human shows trust, right? Letting you feed. I'd like to do that."  

"I - " Bojan is hesitant because he wants. He wants so much. He hadn't been lying, Damon smells so good. He's so drawn to him. He's thought more than once about that beautiful pale neck, about sinking his teeth into it. He’s salivating, savouring Damon’s taste just by smelling him from afar. 

"Kris should be there," he says finally. "Just in case. He knows what to do if I - if I lose control."  

"Are you likely to lose control?" Damon asks.  

"No," Kris says before Bojan can even open his mouth. "He's never lost control, not since I've known him."  

He can hear Damon's heart beating, so, so fast. He's nervous. But that heartbeat also calls to him, all that blood beneath the pale skin. He wants. He wants so much. He craves it. 

Bojan can feel his eyes changing colour and his fangs becoming sharper. He's struggling to control himself, but he manages to not jump on him right away. Damon’s sweater on him isn’t helping much his self-control. He focuses on Kris heartbeat, slower and more familiar, to keep him grounded. 

"It's better if you sit down on the couch. The first time can be overwhelming for both," he suggests.  

So Damon and he take place on the couch, Kris follows them, sitting behind Damon. He holds him, a comforting, warm, human touch.

"Do you want to know what you'll feel?" Bojan asks, looking the photographer in the eyes. 

One side of Damon wants to know it, so he can at least be prepared, but the other one doesn't. No, he wants to dive into those feelings, experience them without any anticipation. He then shakes his head.

"Where do you want to bite?" he asks then. 

Bojan's eyes, now as red as blood, lower and stop on his neck, so pale and so alluring. He feels like a moth attracted by the light of a lantern in the middle of a night without moon, so captivating but so dangerous at the same time.  

Kris notices Bojan’s look, where it’s laying, so he puts his hand in Damon's hair, tilting his head back for Bojan, an offering. His gesture is forceful but gentle at the same time. 

Bojan leans forward, closes his eyes and kisses Damon’s neck before sinking his fangs in his skin and then deep in his flesh. When the first drops of blood touch his tongue, he moans intensively. Damon's blood is so delicious, much more than what he expected. 

Without even realising Bojan straddles Damon's laps and pushes him until he's completely laying on Kris, the vampire on top of him. It feels like ecstasy. Bojan is so used to feeding on his friends that he forgot the pleasure of unknown blood running down his throat. The bond creating between the vampire and the human. The pure sense of trust of letting a creature like him taking away something so important. Damon's blood is singing to him and he could write both melody and lyrics based on what he's feeling in that moment.  

He’s too lost in it. He's drinking and drinking and it's addicting. Until Damon starts getting dizzy, eyes feeling closed, and it's Kris who warns him. 

"Bojči." Then, more firmly. "Bojan."  

And Bojan pulls away reluctantly, dazed, eyes a little glassy, panting with his mouth open and dirty with blood, that's also running down from his lips, dripping on Damon’s white t-shirt. 

"Fuck," he breathes. "Damon."  

Damon, half-dazed himself, looks up at Bojan, and he sees the fangs and the red eyes but all he can think is how beautiful Bojan looks. His perfect profile, those beautiful features, like something out of a novel, and the blood and the shadows just heighten it. He reaches a weak hand up, traces his cheek, murmurs a feeble "you're beautiful."  

Bojan leans forward then, licking the last drops from the wound, licking it closed, but then staying there, breathing in Damon's scent, placing a kiss where the wound had been. And when he moves away, so that he can look at Damon again, Damon's hand has found its way into his hair.  

And he doesn't know who moves first, but suddenly they're kissing. They're kissing and Damon is moaning and Kris is there, holding Damon, his hands find their way under Damon's t-shirt, tweaking a nipple, which makes Damon gasp into Bojan's mouth. 

Bojan breaks the kiss so reluctantly, resting his forehead against Damon's, murmuring "fuck" a second time. He wants, he wants everything.  

Vampires can give different types of bites. The ones given when the vampire wants only to feed are violent and brutal, but the ones given when a human offers his blood and shows his trust...well, those ones are truly intense and can cause great pleasure, both in the vampire and the human. 

Bojan notoriously has great self-control, but Damon is really testing his limits. He is scared but at the same time he wants to give in to his instincts, to the taste of pleasure he got from possessing Damon in that way. He wants to possess him totally, in every aspect. 

"Kris, I want more," he reverts to Slovenian, his mind is clouded and thinking in English is really hard. His voice sounds more like a growl. He raises his head to look Kris in the eyes. 

And Kris recognises the longing in Bojan's red eyes, the desire, the craving. He experienced on his own skin and body the frenzy that blood can cause on a vampire and on the human they feed on. 

Damon in the meantime starts kissing Bojan's neck. He wants him too, that bite made him feel all sorts of things, from deep pain to intense pleasure. He expected it to hurt, not to be aroused by it. 

Kris wants them too. Maybe it's a sick kink but observing Bojan feeding and moaning because of the blood always awakes something in him.  

Kris then kisses Bojan, his lips still dirty with blood, basically giving him the permission to continue what he was doing with Damon. 

Bojan grabs Damon’s face with a hand, gently diverting it from his neck, so he can kiss him on the lips deeply. His fangs touch slightly Damon’s lips, making him shudder intensively.  

They undress him, soon after their clothes end up on the floor too. Bojan kisses Damon all over his body, tasting his excitement and making him whimper. In those brief moments of clarity, Damon can see that Bojan and Kris are used to do this together, so he completely hands over the control to them. 

Oh, the sex with a vampire is even better than drugs. Bojan knows perfectly where and how to touch Damon to make him whimper and moan. He bites him in specific points on his body, liking the wounds right after to not make him bleed out.  

Kris joins barely, just to kiss Damon sometimes or to make Bojan tone down what he’s doing, to not make him completely give in to his instincts and do something he will regret.  

They all reach their climax at the same time, Kris almost untouched, the view of Bojan carnally possessing Damon was enough for him. They all collapse on the couch, panting and shaking because of the pleasure they just experienced. Damon’s body is covered in bitemarks. Bojan is on top of them, his head is on Damon’s chest, eyes closed. 

Kris starts running a hand through Bojan’s hair and plays with some of his strands. That simple gesture can make him calm down and relax after some intense emotions. Damon imitates Kris, still a bit hesitant. And Bojan begins purring, just like a cat. 

“Is-is he purring?” Damon asks, surprised. 

“Yes,” Kris giggles. “He loves when you touch his hair.” 

They keep cuddling Bojan as he slowly gets back from the high of the intercourse.  

“It was a photographer who turned me,” he suddenly talks. He decided to explain to Damon why he reacted in that way during their first photoshoot. “She approached me when I was barely 20. She bewitched me, oh-she was stunning, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” 

“A photographer?” Damon asks. 

“Yes,” Bojan raises his head to look him in the eyes. He grabs one of his hands and intertwines their fingers. “She thought that I was the perfect muse for her work. She kept taking pictures of me for a couple of years, she fed on me, then turned me against my will, just because she wanted that my beauty lasted forever. Even turned I was helpless, I couldn’t escape, she had full control over me.”  

Damon gently caresses Bojan’s cheek, trying to comfort him. He can see the distress he’s feeling while telling him about his past. 

“You don’t have to tell me-” 

“I want to,” he interrupts him. “You trusted me, you showed it to me, and this is me showing you I trust you. The only people that know my story are my bandmates.” 

Damon nods slowly in response. Bojan is showing his other vulnerable side, the moment he lost his humanity to become a demon of the night, a monster that feeds on people to survive. Bojan then keeps telling him his story: how important he felt when he was with her, how he liked her attentions, how she basically tricked him into letting her feed on him and then turn him into this monster, how she dragged Kris into the picture and how they eventually escaped from her. 

"I killed her."

“You...killed her?” 

Bojan nods. “She was seriously threatening Kris. He is part of my nest, and no one can hurt him. So I snapped, she couldn’t control me anymore and I killed her. I don’t regret what I did, she deserved it.” 

Silence falls once again among them. Damon is clearly trying to process that piece of information. 

“Vampires are protective of their nest. They are social creatures, just like us humans, and they will do everything to protect the people they care about,” Kris explains.

“Am...am I part of this nest, now?” 

Bojan nods. “Yes. I know that we can't be always together, but I’ll make sure no one touches you,” he kisses Damon on the lips. “You accepted me for who and what I am. You are important to me.” 

[nyx-aira]

In regards to this post of Jan thinking Jure must be a masochist because of his behaviour, thinking Martin would punish him (I got inspired while playing around with ideas with @signoraviolettavalery )

I can imagine Jan and Jure growing closer over time. Like imagine a vampire council meeting where spouses are not allowed.

---

The council met at Bojan’s castle this time and Jan was sitting in his chambers, watching the carriages in the courtyard as it rained. He knew these kind of meetings. Be by his husbands side while he is greeting the guests, then move out of the way so they could proceed with the meeting.

Jan was shaking as he watched the horses stand in the rain, the droplets on the window racing down the glass panel. He always dreaded those meetings, knowing what Gasper would be like. If they went well, there was reason to celebrate and if they went bad...well then Jan was there to release that anger. Either way, those nights were always spent retreating into the deepest corners of his mind, praying that once Gaspar had his fill he would leave. Once he did Jan was always left in tatters of what he was wearing, curled in on himself as he heard the last of the carriages making their journey back home. Sometimes he didn't leave straight away. And those nights were worse, way worse. Usually the meeting had gone bad and Gasper had pounced on him as soon as he had the chance, drinking until Jan was dizzy and unmoving on the bed. He liked him pliant those nights, silent except for his crying and begging.

But tonight he wasn't waiting for another nightmare to become reality and he also wasn't alone.

Jure was sat on his bed, playing with Igor and laughing as the cat chased one of the ribbons Jure had with him. He watched as the little cat almost disappeared in the folds of Jure's dress, the light blue a stark contrast to the red of his bed sheets.

Jan had seen Jure in a formal dress only a handful of occasions. When Martin and he stopped by it was always a casual visit, the blonde dressed in casual summer dresses or even pants. But Jan had to admit he looked good in his dress, happy even, like he picked it out himself, like this was him. The blue corset-like bodice had a handful of butterflies stitched in, their colours bringing life to the sky blue of the dress. The dress had tulle sleeves poofing around the shoulders and being tied at the wrist with ribbons, one of which Jure had pulled loose to play with Igor. The skirt was voluminous, many layers of tulle, but ended at the ankles, allowing more movement than any of the dresses Jan had worn in his marriage to Gasper. There were butterflies at the bottom of the dress as well and when Jure had stood at Martin's side as they had greeted them, it had looked like they were flying when he moved.

Jan's dress was almost the opposite. A deep burgundy colour hugged his figure as a slit went up mid thigh on the left side. The dress had no back, held together by a golden clasp at the neck and nothing more. His sleeves almost flowed behind him like a cape, long and very unpractical. Jan's hair was put in a half-bun, stands escaping his face and a golden clip matching the dress, holding the hairdo in place. It was a pretty dress but it was still something Gasper would've liked, something he would've chosen and that made a shudder run down his back.

He looked back around the room, Jure's heels carelessly thrown aside while he was still wearing his, the man on the bed laughing with joy as Igor caught the ribbon.

Something must have given away his thoughts though as Jure carefully extracted the cat from the folds of his dress and padded over where Jan was sitting on the window sill. He sat down next to him, silently, and they sat like that for a while until Jure spoke up.

"You know I saw you at a ball once." He spoke, eyes cast down on a red butterfly right above his own heart.

"I wanted to talk to you, Martin too, but we never had the chance." His eyes moved to a yellow one, right at his hip.

"I never understand why. Now I do." He looked at Jan, so much understanding in those blue eyes.

"I know it's not my place to say, but I understand your pain and also why you are dreading the end of this meeting so much."

Jure offered his palm to Jan, like he was approaching a stray cat.

"There is nothing to fear. Bojan won't harm you, no one will." He spoke softly and patiently let his hand rest in between them.

"Bojan had actually asked me to stay with you but even if he didn't, I would've snuck up here with you anyway." A smile from the blonde as Jan place his hand is his. A tight squeeze and he had to swallow down the first tears.

"I'm here." He whispered as Jan refused to meet his eyes and stared back out into the courtyard and the forest that stretched beyond.

"Thank you." He whispered as hot tears burned his eyes, running down his cheeks.

He heard Jure move, the rustling of his skirts the only sound in the room. And then there was the sound of something jumping off the bed and he had a lap full of Igor not much later.

"We're not leaving." Jure said and carefully brushed a tear off his cheek, Jan startled by the kindness of the gesture and also by his reaction, not flinching away from his touch, knowing Jure was safe.

He was safe.

[volturiwolf]

Ona - Bojan Cvjetićanin x fem!reader

A/N: Contains swearing and self-criticism

A/N 2: This is my interpretation of "Ona", which goes parallel to "Ne Bi Smel"

A/N 3: Everything is fiction and does not depict the real people or situations

I didn't realize I had fallen asleep until I was forcefully woken up by none other than Kris Guštin, who shook me with one hand while slapping me with the other. 

"Bojan! Bojan! Cvjetićanin! Wake up! You're having a bad dream again!"

I grunted, letting him know that I had already woken up so that he would stop hitting me on my face. He didn't stop, so I slapped him back until he did.

"Ei! Why'd you do that?" Kris sounded offended.

"Because you wouldn't stop!"

"Because I thought you were still asleep. Open your eyes if you woke up then."

I grunted again. I was in no mood to open my eyes, mostly because I knew they'd be still red from last night's crying session. But I was pretty sure Kris would continue slapping me if I didn't, so I eventually did.

"Shit, dude. You look like shit."

"Yeah, no shit. I know I look awful. Can you leave me on my own for a few hours?"

"Bojči, we have to go on stage in 45 minutes," Jure whispered from my left side, slowly and carefully petting my head. "We let you sleep a bit more than usual, but you have to get ready, okay?"

Jure's voice was like a lullaby in my ear, and, though I didn't want to wake up, we had an obligation towards the fans that came to see us. I had an obligation to my friends to step out there and perform. I looked like shit and I felt like shit, but I had about 40 minutes to fix all this and make it seem like I was fine.

It was part of the tour routine by now: wake up around noon, attempt to make a decent coffee for Martin and me, have Martin drive us to the studio, check the last details, have lunch, have someone from the crew pick us up and drive us to the concert location, have soundcheck, get ready, perform, gather the equipment, have something to eat, drive back home, get ready for bed, and go to sleep.

At least, that’s what the others did. I barely remember eating half of my lunch in the past few weeks or even going to sleep at a reasonable hour without having balled my eyes out before. We were on tour for the past few months, trying to establish ourselves more and more within the north ex-Yugoslavian area.

It was probably the worst time to feel such a self-loath but I deserved it after everything I did to her.

“How could you, Bojan? I loved you! I trusted you! You said you’d never hurt me like this! You said you were different! That I was different! You said what we had was special!”

Her voice was still echoing inside my mind, even after this long; a reminder of my guilt; a reminder that I was the worst person for what I did to her; for how much I hurt her.

“Joker Out, out in 5’!” Our stage manager shouted, and I had no choice but to put on a fake smile and drag myself out on the stage.

I honestly dreaded every time I had to show my face anywhere, whether that was on stage, in front of the fans, or the studio, in front of my friends. Performing was a nice distraction, though temporary, because every time we got off stage, my thoughts would turn back to her and guilt would eat me up again.

It was almost the middle of August, and we were going through a very hot summer already, but I felt such a cold and loneliness in my heart. And it was all because of me.

“I don’t want to see you ever again! Here! Take your stuff and leave! Leave and don’t you ever try to come back! I hate you, Bojan Cvjetićanin! I hate you and I don’t want to see you ever again!”

“Bojan? Bojan?” I felt someone shaking me again. I looked up to see Jan.

“Wha-? What? What’s going on?”

“The guys and I thought we’d go down by the lake to grab something to eat before we drive back to Ljubljana. Do you want to come?”

“Ehm, nah, not really. I’m pretty exhausted. I’m just gonna head back home.”

“Okay, wait here. I’ll let Kiki know so he can drive you back.”

“No need. I don’t feel so tired. I’ll drive myself. I’ll take Martin’s car.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think you’re…okay enough to drive.” Was it because I lost all of my motivation to live?

“I’m fine, Jan. Honestly. I feel okay enough to drive. It’ll help clear up my mind anyway.”

Jan sighed heavily. “You need to forget her, man. It will only cause you pain.”

I swallowed the tears and sob that were about to burst out of me. “I’ll be fine,” I mumbled before turning around and walking out of the dressing room.

.*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*.

The drive back home was irritatingly long, despite being only one and a half hours in actuality. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, squeezing the steering wheel so hard, I almost felt like I’d break my hands.

I tried to put on some music from a CD that was left behind and forgotten to ease my mind, but the moment the first song started playing, I stopped the CD faster than I thought I would.

It was one of her favorite songs, “Sorry” by Halsey. It was the CD mix I made her and gifted her on our 4-month anniversary. She loved music so much and I thought I’d make her a CD for her to remember me by whenever I couldn’t be with her.

I put a great effort into finding songs she loved and collecting them all in one simple CD. I went through all the songs she liked, her albums, her music history, her likes on her social media; whatever I could find related to music.

She was the first one to hear our album before its release date. She was the one I danced “Umazane Misli” with, and the one I wrote “A Sem Ti Povedal” for, among others. She was my muse, my inspiration, my love. And I fucked everything up, for just a careless, random night with a random woman.

It broke my heart when I eventually had to confess my infidelity to her, in fear of her finding out from someone else. But I knew she hurt much more than I did, as she started trembling and breaking down in tears in front of me.

I tried to hold her; to keep her close to my heart, but she only pushed me away, yelling and crying, crying and yelling. She had to push me out of her apartment, and I did not resist at all. I knew I was in the wrong here, and I needed to give her some space and time to breathe and clear her mind.

She did eventually, a few days later, when she sent me a text “We’re done. It’s over.”

I wasn’t the same man after that. It was only after I read her text that I realized the gravity of her words. Four words that pierced through my heart. A hole that’s still bleeding. A hole that will never be whole again.

She never wanted to see me again. I hurt her, so she hurt me back. She now hated me and I was sure that there was nothing I could do to win her back.

So what was I even doing now? Standing under her window, desperate, with no excuse or a word to say to her? Why was I doing this to her? Why was I doing this to myself? There was no point in standing under her apartment, waiting to get a peak of her shadow passing by the window.

But there I was, so desperate to know she was alive and doing well, despite me not being there to hug and support her. It was too late for that anyway. But my ego wouldn’t let me walk away from her. That, and the fact that I was still so painfully in love with her.

So, for the next few months, I spent every night I could waiting under her window, watching, hoping, waiting. I was hoping she would be feeling the same way as I did, but she never texted again after that last text she sent me on that awful day.

The band was progressing; we were getting more known and we were gaining more and more fans. We even presented our first album at a huge concert in Cvetličarna, which was broadcast later by RTV Slovenija.

But that was still not enough to make me forget her. If anything, it made me think more of her; how I wish she was still in the first row, giving me strength, courage, and power to give my everything on stage.

And the months passed, and I got to host and sing EMA 2022, which was a huge deal for me and the band as a result. And I had my fair share of public and private relationships in the meanwhile, but none of them were her. 

She was truly special. Every day with her was like the first time I ever saw her. And how I did everything I could to find out her favorite spots so I could “randomly” show up when she was there. And I managed to score a date with her, eventually, after months of trying to pursue her. And after a week, I asked her to be mine. Because I knew I couldn’t just let her go. I had to be with her.

And she agreed and we had a wonderful few years together until I made the biggest mistake of my life which I still regret to this day. It felt like a lot of my inspiration was lost along with her.

And then, like a spark of realization and inspiration, I thought I’d pour all my feelings and thoughts on paper. And that’s how Ona was born.

.*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*.

Križanke was just around the corner - a huge sold-out show where we’d finally present our newest album, Demoni. Between that and Martin’s inevitable departure from the band, we were constantly on our feet and our phones, trying to figure out what we were going to do next.

Martin was still indecisive, not knowing if Križanke would be his last concert - he kept saying he would try to find a solution and maybe delay his master’s admission, just until everything regarding the band was settled. But I knew my best friend; I knew he was anxious and scared and worried for us, but I wanted what was best for him, even if that meant we weren’t going to be playing together anymore.

And I was willing to sacrifice this part of my happiness for his happiness. After all, we wouldn’t be strangers; we’d still be close to each other, texting and video calling. I was willing to endure everything because Martin really stood by my side ever since she left me. Not that the others didn’t, but Martin knew exactly what I was feeling about her, and how my stupid actions messed everything up.

Every time I imagined having children, I always imagined her as their mother. Every time I said we were going to grow old and still be playing in this band, I always imagined her as my biggest fan, in the front row, supporting and cheering me. Every time I thought of my future, she was a part of it, in every possible scenario.

Only Martin knew that. Only Martin reprimanded me the way he did because he was the only one I had confessed how much she meant to me. Only he knew the extent I was willing to take my life to just to have her by my side. And only he knew how badly I had messed up.

I only told the others that we broke up because of “the band’s hectic schedule”, because I was too embarrassed to tell them how I betrayed the woman I loved so deeply and so wholly, just for a stupid, drunken mistake - not that was even an excuse.

But that was then, and Križanke was now. And, once again, I had to gather up my pieces, put on a smile, and let the show go on.

.*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*.

“Križanke! You’ve been amazing so far! We’re about halfway through the setlist and I’d like to talk to you about this next song.”

The crowd in front of me was cheering so loudly, but I felt like a deer in headlights, gulping the nonexistent saliva in my dry mouth, feeling my heartbeat rising by the second. I turned around and took a big gulp from the water bottle in front of Jure’s drums.

“This next song is kind of a confession. Last year, my ex-girlfriend broke up with me.” Screams and booing were heard from some parts of the audience. “And it was entirely my fault. Because she loved me, and I didn’t appreciate her enough. And I made a mistake.” Some gasps were now heard. “And I regret it to this day. But I know I cannot fix this in any way, not with a song, not with anything. But, at least, I can let her know that I never loved anyone like I loved her, and this song is for her. Ona. Moja ljubav.”

“Stanem ispod njenog prozora

Jedna njena senka da me spasi očaja.”

I was desperate for just a glimpse of happiness that her shadow alone would bring me. Even though I was not acting like myself anymore.

“Snegovi u avgustu sad po meni padaju

Dok tebe sunce greje, mi amore.”

Last August I spent almost every night waiting for her to show up, to notice me, to talk to me as I was standing under her window. But she never did.

“Znaj, bebo znaj

Celu noć sam plakao zbog tebe

Taj osećaj

Da za mene živo ti se jebe

Ubija me.”

I wasn’t afraid to tell anyone how my own mistake messed me and everything up; how I cried for her because I loved and still love her; how I knew she wouldn’t care about me anymore, and I cannot blame her for that. I doubt I would if the situation was the other way around. 

“Kažu vreme leči rane sve

Al' ne kažu koliko da se odviknem od nje

Godina je prošla, još vraća se u san

Vrti kao film sećanje na onaj dan.”

It’s been over a year since she broke up with me. Over a year since everyone was telling me that I’d get over her with time, because “time is supposed to heal everything”. My mind still keeps on replaying the day I told her over and over again, as a kind of punishment, a reminder that I was the one responsible for my misery from the very beginning.

“Znaj, bebo znaj

Celu noć sam plakao zbog tebe

Taj osećaj

Da za mene živo ti se jebe

Ubija me, ubija me.”

That was the only thing I could repeat over and over. I had accepted my fate and the fact that she wasn’t going to come back, and I had to live with that. I would continue to suffer - I knew that - but I also knew I deserved it.

Maybe one day, she would come back. Maybe one day, I could win her back. But until then, all I could do was hope.

.*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*.

What Bojan - or anyone else, for the matter - did not know was that right there, somewhere in the back of that Križanke crowd, was a young woman whose heart was broken irrevocably a year ago by the only man she ever fell in love with. The man she’d sacrifice everything and anything for. The man she could see her future with. The man she still loved so deeply, but it was far too late to tell him that.

“Celu noć si plakao zbog mene

Celu noć si plakao zbog mene.”

So she did the only thing she could. She kept on singing along with the crowd; singing and enjoying the songs. The songs she had the privilege to hear first. The songs that made her love him even more than she already did. The songs he once wrote for her.

[calmasyoghurt]

The joker out pride project.

This frog is important for today's chapter. Also on ao3.

June 23rd, prompt 13. Cottage core lesbians.

It’s starting to become rare for them to have this many free days in a row. They have a full five days without concerts that are going to be spent resting. But it’s good to not have many days off too, that's all they’ve ever wanted. Kris remembers the first time they met as Joker Out. Bojan had been talking about how they were going to be the biggest band in Slovenian history and how they were going to go on world tours. Later, Jan had told Kris that they would be extremely lucky if they got to tour in the balkans.

But now, they’re on a good way to fulfill Bojan’s dream. A European tour is coming up, they even have the most streamed song in thev Slovene language. They are definitely on the way up. But Kris isn’t going to think to much about that now. He’s going to think about resting. He’s also going to think about how good Bojan looks in the morning. The guy hasn’t even put in any effort. He’s just sitting there at the kitchen table, wearing only boxers, and is scrolling through his phone. He still looks really good.

“They’re calling you a lesbian icon on twitter again” Bojan says out of nowhere, sounding a bit amused. It does feel a bit weird being called that by fans. But it’s fine. They don’t know about the trans thing. “We would have made a great lesbian couple” Bojan continues.

“Oh, is that so? Would it be different from our gay relationship?” Kris asks.

“Yes, of course it would. Most obvious difference would be me having a vagina and you still having boobs. And we would probably live a different lifestyle. Maybe we would be cottage core”.

“Cottage core? What’s that?”

“It’s when you live in a cottage in the forrest and you have a little garden with tomatoes and cucumbers and stuff. We would also have chickens and a cat”.

“That sounds nice. Is there anything else we would have?” Kris asks as he sits down opposite Bojan.

“Yes. We would have apple trees and grow strawberries. I would probably have an obsession with frogs and you would have one for those red and white mushrooms”. This makes Kris chuckle a little.

“Why those obsessions, can’t I have one for music instead?” he asks.

“No you can’t, music isn’t cottage core! Frogs and mushrooms are tough, and since you’re dutch you get the ‘shrooms obsession” Bojan explains. This makes Kris laugh even more, but he decides not to argue the matter. Instead he changes the subject.

“Okay, well. How do we get meat, do we have to kill the chickens?”.

“Only when they’re old. For other meat, and for the things we can’t grow, we can go on our bikes to a nearby farm or organic market. We also take our bikes to a nearby lake where we swim naked. Swimsuits aren’t cottage core either I think” Bojan answers.

“It sounds really nice. Maybe it’ll be our backup plan if no one comes to our concerts”. Kris isn’t completely serious, but it sound like being this cottage core thing isn’t too bad. There’s only one problem with it. “We could live like that, as long as you’re not making me de-transition. I would hate that”.

"I know you would. I would never make you do that" Bojan answers.

When Kris comes back to Bojan's apartment after visiting his parents a couple of days later, the singer isn't home. On the living room table, Kris finds a note and a package. The note reads 'I'm out getting us dinner. In the package is a gift for my cottage core lesbian boyfriend. Love you'. Kris smiles at the note and the opens the package. Inside is a frog plushie wearing a red and white mushroom as a hat. It might be one of the best gifts Kris has ever gotten, and it is definitely coming with him on the tour.

[absolutebloodychaos]

i just neeeeed bojan and kris being soft but sassy boyfriends🙏💅

Thanks @alainsthoughts so much for the ask, I loved writing this and I hope that you like it too:)

I did not mean to make this into a Christmas fic but hey, this is what happens when you listen to too much Mariah Carey in October.

I wrote most of this while listening to the Cher Chrismas album and it is absolutely fucking AMAZING. I was also listening to “Щедрик'' or “Carol of the Bells” which is my favourite Christmas carol.

---------------

It was Christmas Eve and the Cvjetiguštin household was getting ready for the holiday with vigour.

Due to their busy touring schedule, Bojan and Kris hadn’t had the opportunity to prepare for Christmas until now, but they were making the most of the time they had.

Mistletoe was being hung, baubles strung, tinsel wrapped, and trees decorated by the two men who were excited to spend their first holiday together as a proper couple.

Kris and Bojan had been pining over each other for years but both had finally caved and gotten together earlier that year around the same time as their first stadium show.

Each man was head over heels with the other and had moved in together pretty quickly, Bojan liked to joke that it had something to do with Kris’ lesbian like behaviour but in reality it was because they had known and loved each other for so long that there was no point waiting around anymore.

As their shared apartment was quite small, the decorating didn’t take much time, or shouldn’t have if Bojan hadn’t kept trying to wrap Kris up with tinsel or kept stopping every three minutes to hang a red bauble off of his nose and pretend to be a certain reindeer.

All the messing around made it more fun though, and Kris couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. 

The last few decorations were put up; the mistletoe taking ages as they kept on getting sidetracked by kissing every time they hung a new sprig, and the topper going on the top of the tree last, Kris boosting up the other man so that he could reach the top.

“I’m not actually that short you know,” Bojan said standing on Kris’ bent knee.

“You sure darling, I saw you struggling to hang the baubles on the higher branches,” Kris said with a smirk.

Bojan didn’t say anything once he got down, just gave the other man an adorable pout, but Kris could tell from the fact that he could see the other man trying not to smile that he didn’t mean it.

It took about twenty seconds before Bojan gave up and the pout slipped from his face, and for Kris to lean in and capture the shorter man’s lips with his own.

“Okay, you’re not that short, I do admit that we did get quite a tall tree but you know that I could have just put the topper on, I would have been able to reach,” Kris said as he pulled back to catch his breath after a few minutes.

“You can put your topper on me,” Bojan said with a lewd grin and Kris shook his head.

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” he said with a fond look and another short kiss that would have been longer if they didn’t have other things to do that day.

“Come on, we’ve got a lot more to do today, I can’t cook my famous gingerbread that you love ever so much if I just spend the rest of the day here kissing you,” Kris said and he could see Bojan visibly weighing up his options.

“If you come with me to the kitchen I’ll let you decorate as many gingerbread people as you want, any way that you like, I won’t even stop you from making rude ones,” Kris said knowing that he’d won the argument.

Also, no one ever said that they couldn’t kiss more while they were baking; Kris had no doubt that by the time the biscuits were in the oven there would have been many kisses stolen between the two men.

Many gingerbread people were made over the next few hours, Kris’ ones resembling cute little fully dressed ordinary people, and Bojan’s more PG ones representing something out of a fever dream (others representing things that were less appropriate for public consumption).

“Bojan, surely you could have made some ones that we could give to other people,” Kris said with a fondly exasperated sigh.

“We could give these to other people, they might just get the wrong idea,” Bojan said, wiggling his eyebrows, and Kris smiled and wrapped the shorter man in his long arms.

“Yes, and we wouldn’t want that, would we,” he said and Bojan just gave him a suggestive look before leaning in for another kiss.

After the baking the next task was wrapping presents and the men wrapped their joint presents together having already wrapped the presents they were going to give to each other.

Over the next hour many presents piled up and were moved to be placed around the bottom of the recently decorated tree.

This year everyone had agreed that Christmas was to be celebrated at Kris and Bojan’s house, and their friends would be arriving the next day for lunch and presents.

But that afternoon and evening were spent just the two of them, cuddled up in bed with steaming mugs of hot chocolate, watching some of their favourite Christmas movies; Die Hard, Home Alone, White Christmas and Meet Me In Saint Louis.

The next day Kris and Bojan woke up wrapped in each other’s arms and lovingly made out until they decided it was time to exchange presents.

Kris among other things had gotten Bojan a necklace and matching bracelet to replace his beloved chain that had snapped a month previous during a particularly energetic gig.

In turn he received many presents from his boyfriend with his favourite being a scrapbook full of memories from their lives together, most memorable being the diary entry Bojan had made the first day that they’d met and pictures from the day they first got together.

A while later they left bed to have breakfast and start getting ready for when the others would come over later.

Lots of food was made, too much probably given that Jure, Jan and Nace had all promised to bring a dish along too, but that just meant that there would be good leftovers for the week ahead.

Bojan set the table as Kris pulled the last things out of the oven and the finishing touches were made just before both men heard the doorbell ring, revealing their friends covered in snow from the trip over to the apartament.

“We bring gifts!” Jure said with a grin and Kris ushered them all inside with a short but sincere hug for each man, telling them to put food in the kitchen and drop presents under the tree.

Bojan, who had just finished getting ready in the bedroom came out and seeing the lingering traces of snow on his guests clothes bolted out the door quickly greeting his friends and then yelling “SNOOOOOOW!!!!!!!!!!!!” with Kris trailing closely behind.

The second he got outside Bojan practically reverted back into being a child, making snowballs and snow angels, and trying to create a snowman.

“Love, you should probably come back inside, you’re going to catch a cold,” Kris said but with a sweet smile and love shining from his eyes.

Bojan ran over and took Kris’ hand, dragging him out of the warm doorway into the cold of the snow, and Kris loved the look of pure wonder and happiness that decorated the other man’s face.

“Okay, in a minute, let’s just enjoy this for now though,” Bojan said and pulled Kris into a kiss while the snow fell lightly around them, decorating each man’s eyelashes with the small white flakes.

Kris knew that this was the first of many similar Christmases to come, and he couldn’t wait to spend each and every one of them with the man he loved.

[saucyjothoughts]

Dearest Saucy, what do you imagine would their nudes look like ,like how would they prop themselves up ,how much time they'd invest into them and stuff like that

I will forever be great and thankful for your naughty stories

This is a juicy one! Let's dive in.

(nsfw under the cut)

Kris: struggles to get nudes that he's happy with on his own. Has the occasional camsex and will exchange photos but what he really needs is for someone else to take them for him. Kris only likes to be on one side of the camera and will perform especially well if the person behind the lens is nice to look at.

If I was an artist, the example would be: Kris reclining on silk sheets, dressed in an open oversized shirt that only just covers his dignity (though with the dramatic lighting you can still make out the edge of it). He has a wistful expression with just the very beginning of a smile, staring with big doe-eyes at the person behind the camera.

Jure: looks like the kind of guy to take dickpics from awful angles in terrible lighting (perhaps with a remote control or beer can for scale) but is actually very into the artistry of a decent shot, taking inspiration from some of his favourite models and using props to enhance his assets. Won't send anything unsolicited but is prolific once he knows the recipient is eager.

If I was an artist, the example would be: he's outdoors, sheltering from rain under a rocky overhang. He's shirtless and wet and wearing baggy jeans which are low and unzipped. One hand holds the camera at a slightly raised angle, the other is holding his erection through his boxers. He can't decide if he prefers the one with the sultry expression or with the playful grin.

Jan: regularly takes erotic pictures and videos of himself (and his partners). Knows his best angles and where to set up his phone for timer shots. Uses his red room light to get the atmosphere right and took some tips from Jure on how to tastefully use sheets/clothing for a suggestive pose. Will send a photo he likes to multiple to people at the same time when he's feeling naughty.

If I was an artist, the example would be: he's wearing his fishnet vest which throws interesting shadows over his skin in the bold red lighting. He's on his bed, the sheets messy. He used a timer to get his full body in shot and one arm is up above his head while the other is pulling his boxers down so we can just see the top of the shaft of his hard cock. His mouth is open and his eyes are closed in a pleasurable expression half-covered by his messed-up hair.

Nace: struggled with this for a long time. Dick pics aren't really a problem - nothing to be ashamed of there and if he can sneak some ink into the shot then all the better - but he always avoids getting any thigh or tummy in the picture. Takes a lot of shots to finally get something he's happy with. Never sends anything unsolicited, only ever shares with his most trusted lovers with express prior consent.

If I was an artist, the example would be: he's fully clothed and sat on the edge of his couch. His pants are open and his cock is in his hand and appears wet in the low light. He's leaning forward towards the camera which is held in his outstretched (tattooed) arm and has his head angled down to look up at the camera in an aggressive expression.

Bojan: isn't shy of his body and will take pictures to share whenever he suspects someone might want them. Sometimes he's wrong, but he hasn't yet learned to be careful. Doesn't put a lot of effort in but is photogenic enough that they're always nice. Isn't subtle - sharing nudes with Bojan regularly means a full penis or asshole jumpscare from the first photo.

If I was an artist, the example would be: he's lying on his front on a hotel bed in bright daylight on pristine white sheets. He's fully nude, knees bent to kick his feet up behind him and he's grinning a childish grin to the camera with his face resting on one hand, generally looking soft and clean. From the angle, you can see his pecs pushed together and the arch of his lower back/curve of his bare ass. It might be immediately followed by a similarly playful picture taken as he rolls on his back.

[anxious-witch]

Inertia 2

Summary: Newton's first law expresses the principle of inertia: the natural behavior of a body is to move in a straight line at constant speed. In the absence of outside influences, a body's motion preserves the status quo.

Jan choose a direction of his life the moment he walked out of his parents house and cut all contact with them. He didn't want anything to do with them, or God anymore. Even his soulmark he wished he could leave behind. But when Nace Jordan joins the band, with a mark matching his own, can Jan keep going the same way he did? Or will the force make him change a direction?

Pairings: Jan Peteh/Nace Jordan

Warnings: mentions of previous religious trauma, slight description of blood(a string cuts into a finger), some negarive self talk I guess?

Notes:

AO3 link

So, you guys know how there was a whole prologue chapter describing what Jan went through? Yeah, he will definitely act like an asshole in the next few chapters so be aware. As always, chapter specific warnings are in the end notes

If I missed anything, feel free to correct me!

You're a heap of flesh and guts and blood in a wax museum. The only thing real. Sickeningly real. Crimson and warm where the others are pale and cold. Revoltingly red, nauseatingly alive. You're a child in a graveyard.

-Layana Clouet, 'A Love Letter to a Dead Thing'

Once again, Jan found himself running late. Now under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t have been any different from any other time he arrived at their rehearsal space late, except this time, it was actually important that he was there on time. It was the day Martin was supposed to introduce them to the bassist he recommended as his replacement.

He had to admit to himself that perhaps, on some level, he really didn't want to meet a new bassist. He didn't want Martin to leave. Replacing Matić was adjustment enough, even if Jure fit in with the band perfectly. But Martin was different, and Jan could not think of anyone who could replace the tall, lanky bassist. Martin, who could calm Bojan whenever his anxiety threatened to overwhelm him, who could help Kris with all the planning and relieve some of the pressure the younger man placed upon himself. Whom Jan considered part of his found family. And okay, Jan knew he was weird about people he considered family. He wanted to keep them close and to protect them. It was hard protecting someone and looking after them from another country.

Yet, how could he ever be mad at Martin for going after what he truly wanted and putting his education first? It was the sensible choice, one that even crossed Jan's mind several times.

He supposed that sometimes change was inevitable, whether he was ready for it or not.

Of course, there was a downpour on his way to their rehearsal space, soaking him thoroughly as he ran the short distance between the parking space and the building. In moments like these, he almost regretted having long hair. It plastered itself against his face and neck uncomfortably. It was also during times like these when he remembered his younger self crying as he was taken to the hairdresser to get his hair cut in an unfashionably “decent” style and once again, he was thankful for his long hair.

He arrived dripping wet, his boots leaving a wet trail.

"Sorry I'm late! I hope the new bassist didn't leave al-Oh."

Jan had to do a double take. On the couch sat Martin and another guy who, while he looked similar to him on the first glance, was decidedly not Martin.

The first thing Jan noticed about the stranger was his intricately tattooed arm. His short-sleeved shirt showed off his biceps. Their eyes met and the bassist smiled, and all Jan could think of for a split second was "Fuck, he’s really attractive".

He stood up and Jan noted they were about the same height, perhaps the new guy was slightly taller He extended his hand and Jan shook it, noting that it was warm and strong, with the telltale calluses on his fingers that a bassist would have. Another thing was that Nace seemed to be somewhat tense and tentative, as if he somehow felt like he didn’t quite fit in. Jan agreed with his assesment, although he couldn’t quite figure out why yet. There was just something slightly off.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Nace."

He had a thick Gorenjska accent, which Jan found oddly endearing. Before he could utter his own name, or levy any further judgment towards the man, Jan's eyes shifted towards his arms. The right one drew his attention first, due to its intricate floral tattoo sleeve. He then looked over at the left arm, noticing a few more tattoos as his eyes traveled downwards, until they reached his wrist. At this, Jan froze momentarily.

On that very same arm, on the wrist to be precise, there was a small, black guitar that looked exactly like the one Jan played. More importantly, the older man’s mark matched Jan’s soulmark in style perfectly. Like only a matching mark would.

He snapped his eyes back to meet Nace's immediately.

"Jan," he said, his voice coming off much frostier than he intended.

He saw Nace's smile fall. Jan tried not to wince as the man withdrew his hand quickly, and immediately rubbed his neck nervously. It seemed almost ridiculous that someone so big could shrink into himself in the blink of an eye and seem so…small.

"Jan! You are not going entering our space with those shoes on! And you’re dripping water all over the fucking floor!"

Kris failed to notice the tense atmosphere as he began lecturing him and Jan was glad for the reprieve. He briefly caught Martin's sharp gaze and immediately looked away.

One thing Jan missed about believing in God was being able to blame the fucker for everything. In moments such as this, all he wanted to do was to scream at the sky asking, “Why is this happening?! What did I do to deserve this?!"

He wished he believed that penance consisting of a few prayers while kneeling on a pew would absolve him of all the mistakes he had made.

And yet, those days of believing lies were long gone. All he was left with now was cold, harsh reality, and taking responsibility for his own shitty choices. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as the former, especially when his self-awareness did not always come with the ability to stop himself from doing the dumbest, most impulsive things.

Neither did he want to go back to believing lies, however.

He did want one last chance to show two middle fingers to the fucker and tell him what exactly he thought of his Gift.

Stupid tattooed bassist.

"Do you guys keep any towels here, somewhere? I can bring some for Jan."

Jan rolled his eyes. Oh, he’s trying to appear kind, too? How predictable, he thought.

"Where are Jure and Bojan?" Jan asked, ignoring Nace completely as he unlaced his boots.

Martin pulled Nace aside and pointed him towards the bathroom where they kept the towels, before squeezing his shoulder and lightly pushing him in said direction.

"Jure is driving Bojan here, but they had some bad luck on the road - a flat tire - so they'll be late. Now tell me…what on earth is your problem with Nace?”

Martin was not known to get angry often, so Jan was briefly caught by a surprise. He peered behind him to make sure that Nace had gone to the bathroom, before crossing his arms over his chest defiantly.

"I don't like him, okay?"

Martin pursed his lips.

"You barely said anything to him…you didn't even hear him play! I won't let you be an asshole towards him over whatever the fuck you don't like about him based on thirty seconds of checking him out!"

Jan felt his cheeks warm.

"I wasn't-"

Bojan and Jure chose that precise moment to appear in the main doorway, saving him from further confrontation. Kris shrieked again as Bojan and Jure tried to walk into the room with shoes equally wet from the rain as Jan's.

Jan almost felt bad for Nace, who came with towels and looked slightly overwhelmed with all the chaos. He took one from the top of the pile and attempted to dry his hair. Then, he stepped out of his boots and walked over to one of the couches and sat down. Perhaps luck would find him and Nace would simply give up after seeing how messy they all were.

As if Jan was ever that lucky.

"Wait, didn't we meet before?" Bojan said, peering up at Nace.

"Um, yeah, technically..."

Jure flopped onto his lap and managed to elbow him in the face. Jan hissed in response. Then, Jure curled to his side and Jan wrapped his arm around his waist so he wouldn't fall off the couch.

"Could you at least do that without injuring me every time?"

"No," Jure said simply, before laying his head on Jan's shoulder.

Jan muttered a few choice words about an oversized orange cat under his breath, but did not push Jure off. In the meantime, Bojan seemed to be engaged in deep conversation with Nace, practically jumping up and down as he talked and Nace seemed more relaxed as well. Jan let his eyes roam as they talked, taking in the familiar space.

It was more than bit messy, as always. Cables and wires everywhere, random belongings strewn here and there. Some of Bojan’s fancy hair products were lying around, along with Jure’s body spray and some of Jan’s hair ties (which he seemed to keep losing, no matter how many he bought), while Kris’ notebooks and schedules were put away neatly to the side.

Then, it hit him. He realized why Nace looked so off. Jan eyed him again. He wore a simple beige sweater, with black trousers, a long brown raincoat draped over his arm. All nondescript styles and muted colors. The space they were in was full of color and they all had tendency to wear a lot of colors or distinctive, eye-catching styles. Even Kris, for all his rules, loved to wear interesting sweaters in various lively colors.

But not Nace.

"So, you know some of our songs?" Bojan asked, gesticulating widely. Kris shook his head, but Jan noticed a small, fond smile on his face. Jan wondered if he would ever get over his feelings for Bojan.

A small, nagging voice that sounded a lot like his father’s whispered that this was the destiny of one who was without a soul. Forever to be in love with someone else who already had a soulmate. That soulmate would always come first, even if Bojan still didn't know his.

Jan pushed the voice away. No. Kris simply had the bad luck of crushing on a straight guy, that was all. He would get over it, sooner or later.

"I do know how to play a few, yeah. After Martin told me about this, I also squeezed in a little practice of my own."

Perhaps today was Jan’s lucky day. Nace sounded nervous, and a lack of confidence would clearly come across in one’s playing. It was not that Jan thought anyone could ever perfectly replace Martin, but perhaps there was a way to not have Nace join the band, without Jan coming across as an asshole. Then, he could live the rest of his life as planned, with no soulmate to worry about.

"Perhaps we could play one. See how you'd fit in."

Everyone turned towards him upon hearing the suggestion. Bojan and Jure only mildly curious, as they had not witnessed the previous argument. Martin, unsurprisingly, looked suspicious and Kris was very confused.

It was Nace's nervous, but slightly hopeful look that caught him off guard. The brunet man gave a shy, hesitant smile that was very much at odds with his handsome features. He had no idea Jan was trying to get rid of him, and thought that Jan was actually giving him a chance.

It made Jan feel bad. Almost bad enough to apologize. Almost.

"That’s what I brought him here for. I just thought he could…you know…get to know everyone first," Martin said carefully.

Jan shrugged, trying to casually play it off.

"I mean, yeah. But we can always get to know him after if we are a good fit, no? There is no point wasting his and our time if it won't work, is there?"

Almost immediately after he uttered those words, he felt the atmosphere around them change, as if the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Even Jure went awfully still next to him. Bojan quieted down in a manner that he only did when he found himself in a very uncomfortable situation.

As for Nace on the other hand, for the first time since Jan saw him, the older man looked angry. He clenched his jaw subtly and narrowed his eyes. He looked straight at Jan. For one long second, nobody dared to say a single word. Jan stared back, refusing to break eye contact and yield.

"You’re right. I wouldn't want to waste anyone's time. How about we play…Plastika?"

Well, someone wanted very badly to show off, that was for sure. Jan did his best not to smirk, schooling his face into a neutral expression.

"Be my guest. If everyone else agrees, that is."

Only then did he break eye contact and looked at his other band members. Bojan nervously chewed on his bottom lip, while Kris’ and Martin’s expressions darkened considerably. Jure cleared his throat and spoke up first, startling him a bit.

"I mean, I'm all for it. If Martin recommended you, I think you'll do great."

Nace looked at Jure and...did he just blush at that? Jan felt the urge to roll his eyes until they reached the back of his head, all the more determined to prove them wrong. He tapped his fingers against his thigh and remembered how his finger had a cut since yesterday. One he didn’t bother to wrap up. Shit.

He could play one song without it reopening. Probably.

Jure's words seemed to have shaken the rest out of their respective states, because they all agreed almost immediately, all while shooting him angry (Kris and Martin) and confused (Bojan) stares.

With that settled, they tuned their instruments and checked whether everything worked as it should, before they opened the song.

"Nisi si všeč če si za modifikacijo

Trenutek je popoln za operacijo

Filter mi ne dela, ko se gledam v ogledalu

Koža ni več sveža in sivijo mi lasje

Pa triindvajset jih mam šele."

Fuck. Nace was good. No, not just good – he was amazing. Jan could not help but sneak glances at him while he played. He was petty enough to not want to admit that Nace was as good as, or even better than Martin. The way he worked those strings was almost unearthly.

Nace caught his stare and for a moment, the world closed in around two of them. Usually, whenever Jan played, everything but him and the music faded. But this time, he was no longer alone with the music - Nace was with him, somehow. In a space that was meant to be only his.

Jan's finger caught on a string, right where the tiny cut was. Of course, the wound promptly ripped open and began bleeding once more.

"Fuck!"

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Goddamn it. He immediately put the finger in his mouth to stop the bleeding and put the guitar down.

"Jan-" Kris began, but Jan cut him off.

"I'm fine, I'll just get a band-aid. Not like I’m fatally bleeding."

He set his guitar down and then stormed towards the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and allowed cold water to pour over the cut. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn't get distracted like that.

And fine - Nace might be very attractive, but Jan met plenty of attractive men. Never in his life had he fucked up like this because of any of them, however. When the bleeding finally slowed, he reached for the box of band-aids and tried to pry one open without bleeding all over it. His fingers kept slipping.

"Do you need any help with that?"

Jan stood straight up at the sudden interruption, then looked over his shoulder. Nace was leaning against the doorway, his gaze no longer shy nor tentative this time. If anything, he seemed to be attempting to take a peek into the depths of Jan's very soul.

"No."

His attention returned to the band-aid, as he attempted to unwrap it once more. His fingers slipped yet again, and he swore when the bleeding from his cut resumed.

"Jesus, Jan just-…turn down the asshole level for thirty damn seconds and let me help you!"

He snatched the band-aid from Jan and carefully unwrapped it. Jan tried and failed not to stare at his hands while he did so. Sturdy hands, with thick, strong fingers.

Nace wrapped the band-aid over the cut surprisingly lightly and gently. His soft touch did not match how sturdy his hands looked for sure. Jan tried not to glare.

"Thanks or whatever."

Nace sighed.

"Look, I really don't know what’s your beef with me, but either you tell me, or act like the adult you are and keep it to yourself."

A chuckle escaped Jan’s lips before he could press them together. Nace's lips twisted in a slight smile.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. We can go back now."

Then he pushed past him and stalked back to the studio, with Nace right behind him. He heard the last bit of a conversation Bojan was presumably having with the others, right before he fully stepped in.

"-someone needs to tell him to chill."

Jan cleared his throat, making Bojan jump with surprise. He looked away guiltily, which was confirmation enough that they were talking about him.

"I think we heard enough from Nace. He’s phenomenal, and I’m very much for him joining," Kris eyed Jan carefully, "at least for the time being, I don't see why there should be any issues. We can all get to know him in due time."

He didn't like the way Kris looked at him. Did he know?

"I agree," Bojan said quickly.

"Me too," Jure added, bobbing his head.

Martin shrugged.

"I recommended him. Of course, I agree."

This was a trap, wasn't it? They all turned to look at him. It was true they made all of their decisions together, but they also were not above telling someone when they crossed the line. In this case, Jan heard it were loud and clear.

He lost.

"Yeah, fine. Alright."

Everyone seemed to exhale a sigh of relief. Bojan grinned brightly at Nace, and spread his arms out.

"Welcome to the band!"

In that moment, Jan really should have already realized he was done for.

—-------------------------------------

"So, what you’re saying is that you want me to drive you home, and then you want me to stay so you can give me a long-ass lecture on manners."

Kris rolled his turquoise eyes.

"I’m inviting you over so we can talk. Who said anything about lecturing?"

Jan glared at Kris, but the younger man seemed unbothered. He leaned on Jan’s car, crossing his long legs as he casually waited for Jan to agree. The dark-haired man sighed and twiddled with his nose ring a couple of times before he unlocked the car and eased himself into the driver’s seat, while Kris rode shotgun and made himself comfortable, laying his head back against the seat. Jan often wondered how Kris, with all his long limbs, managed to even fit let alone get comfortable in the car.

He started the car and began driving. After a few minutes passed, Kris began to tap his fingers against his seat. Now, Kris would usually shuffle through the radio stations by this time, but today, he seemed to be content letting the silence stretch out.

Goddamn Kris to hell, he knew how much he hated small talk. But talking about the elephant in the room sounded even worse.

"So. How come you didn't drive today?"

Kris played with a strand of his hair – he was finally letting it grow out a little more, almost long enough to touch the base of his neck. Jan hoped that meant he was slowly gaining his confidence back.

"My therapist said I could try some...exposure therapy with environments that are somewhat out of my control. Like public transport for instance."

Jan winced. He did not want to imagine how stressful that must have been for his friend. He made an affirmative hum. Pressing Kris about it further could upset him or stress him out more.

After another few moments of awkward silence, Kris finally spoke up.

"Nace is your soulmate, isn't he?"

Jan hit the brakes just a bit too hard as they approached a red light. Kris didn’t comment, but Jan saw the way he pursed his lips, and he knew that Kris was not impressed, both by his non-answer and by his disregard for road safety.

"Maybe you should just talk to him."

Jan glared at him before turning his eyes back to the road.

"Absolutely not."

Kris sighed as he sunk deeper into his seat.

"I’m just saying. I know you’ve said time and time again that you don't want a soulmate, but...you could at least give it a shot. Some of us will never get that chance."

Jan felt his stomach drop to his feet. Fuck. He forgot how personal this could get for Kris, who did not have a soulmate…how he might view it as Jan throwing away something he was dying to have.

He supposed that being honest to Kris was the least he could do.

"You know it's not like that. I just...I can't, okay? I feel sick just thinking about anything related to soulmates."

It was true. Simply thinking about the possibility of telling Nace that their marks matched made him nauseous.

"I’m not saying you have to ride off with him in the sunset or fall into his arms or whatever. But…talk to him, at least. It’s basic decency. I mean, Jure's soulmate is his best friend. He said he couldn't imagine dating her, but she’s still very special to him."

Jan grimaced. Jure’s case was uncommon, and one that was certainly fascinating, but that did not mean Jan would feel safe taking his chances. The second he involved the other person to keep their end of the deal, problems would inevitably follow.

"I don't want him to be special. You guys are special to me. You’re my family now, and have been for years. Why does he deserve to be special just because we share some stupid mark on our skin?"

"Jan..."

Kris voice wavered the way it always did when he wanted to comfort him. Jan parked the car before turning to face him again.

"Don't make me tell him. I don't-I can't do it."

Kris swept him into a tight hug, as awkward as it was in their current positions. He comfortingly rubbed Jan's back. Jan wondered why he even used to believe angels were real, when Kris Guštin was real and right there.

"Okay, okay, I won't. Just...try to at least be civil towards him, please? He is an amazing bass player and he seems really nice."

Jan sighed. He didn't answer for a few moments, simply letting Kris's sweater-clad hug steady him.

"Alright. I’ll try my best. But don't expect me to become his best friend or anything."

Kris chuckled as he ruffled Jan’s hair.

"I would never."

They stayed like that for about a minute longer before Kris drew back. Jan took a deep breath, his heart feeling lighter than it was a while ago.

"Want to come in? I have coffee. And tea. And hot chocolate."

Jan snorted.

"As if anyone but you and Bojan drinks hot chocolate."

"Rude."

Jan grinned cheekily at him before exiting the car. A rare grin, that he saved for the ones he held close and trusted. He took a deep breath of the chilly, crisp autumn air. He could get through the whole soulmate drama, as long as he had his friends – his family - with him.

Nace could be his fated soulmate for all he liked, but Jan never liked to follow the rules or do as he was told anyway.

He followed after Kris into the apartment and as Kris prepared their drinks, checked his Instagram. There was an unread message request from someone he didn't follow.

When he read the username, he froze. It was his father. His thumb hovered over the unread message and knots of fear began to form in his stomach, accompanied by a slowly growing, burning anger.

He swiftly deleted the message without reading it and locked his phone, tossing it aside. His heart was still beating several hundred times a minute when Kris returned, carrying two steaming mugs. Jan did his best to smile as he wrapped his hands around the hot mug that was offered to him. As his anger dissipated, he suddenly felt very, very cold.

It was a common saying that bad things always came in threes, but if these were the first two...Jan certainly did not want to know what the third one would be.

He took a long sip of the tea and tried to push it all away.

Lies, deceit, his father, the concept of a soulmate...he left all those things behind years ago, and he refused to let them ruin the family he found in his time of need.

And he would do anything to hold on to them, no matter the cost. Not even a so-called soulmate would stand in his way.

[signoraviolettavalery]

I do believe it is time for the next installment of @touchyourblood 's and my vampire!Bojan AU - or at least, one version of it, wherein Jan is an undercover hunter who joins the band.

This is part 2 - one of my favorites, but also one of the angstier ones.

After their late-night heart-to-heart, Jan and Bojan return home and call a meeting of the band.

"He knows," is all Bojan says. Shocked, slightly horrified stares from all of them.

"I didn't tell him," Bojan adds. "He figured it out."

Jan repeats his soft-of-true story about how he's had an encounter with a vampire before and put two-and-two together.

"And?" Kris presses. The others look at him, worried. "You seem rather calm about this."

"I'm not scared of Bojan," Jan says. "I care about him, and the rest of you. I won't tell anyone, and I'd like to stay and be part of the band."

They agree, and give Jan a rundown of how they do things: they take turns being the ones Bojan feeds on. He only needs to do it once a week, and he only ever takes from the wrist for their safety. (Jan, who's seen Bojan feed and also in other contexts, thinks he's the most disciplined man he's ever seen, and that precaution is probably unnecessary). Most vampire myths are a lie, but they do have to be careful about silver and sacred ground. ("Glasgow must've been uncomfortable?" Jan asks. "Oh yeah," Nace says.)

And things really don't change much after that, except it's a relief to Bojan to not have to hide. ("I hid that part of myself because I didn't want you to be afraid of me," Bojan admits once). They don't have to keep the feedings a secret, though they're still discreet. They work together better than ever.

One day, Bojan seems especially tired. He's been puttering around the house, until, with a big sigh, he lies down on the couch, his head in Kris' lap (Jan is on a neighboring couch, strumming his guitar).

"When's the last time you fed?" Kris asks.

"Thursday."

"It is Thursday."

"Last Thursday, then."

Kris sighs and offers a wrist. "Drink," he says, in a tone that doesn't invite protest.

Bojan protests anyway. "I can't. We have a concert tomorrow, and you heal the worst."

"Yes, we have a concert tomorrow, and you need your strength for it, which means you need to feed."

"He can feed on me," Jan breaks in.

They turn to him, Bojan full of concern. "You don't know what you're offering," he says.

Jan, who's seen Bojan feed more than once, just smiles. "I have some idea," he says. "Besides. Your other friends volunteered, why can't I?"

"You have to be sure," Bojan says, panic almost edging into his voice. "Really sure." And Jan realizes just how scared Bojan is to show his 'monstrous' side.

"I am sure," he says, sitting down next to Bojan on the couch.

"It's easier if it's your right wrist," Kris offers. "For guitar playing, I mean."

Kris would know, of course.

Jan extends an elegant wrist that Bojan takes just as delicately. He hesitates, and Jan thinks he'll require more convincing. But after a second, Bojan lets his fangs extend and his eyes turn red.

It's...a sight. Jan's seen vampires look like that before, but not Bojan. It's a little frightening, to see a monstrous face on his friend. But instead of attacking his wrist, Bojan bites gently, carefully. It almost doesn't hurt, and Jan leans back into the cushions and lets his friend drink. He's expecting to get a little dizzy from the blood loss, but Bojan pulls away before he starts feeling anything close. Jan blinks.

"That can't have been enough," he says, as Bojan licks the last drops from his wound and it seals itself, like it's a few hours old.

"He never takes enough," Kris says. "You have to make him drink more."

"It's his first time. I took enough," Bojan says. He takes the bandage Kris offers (they keep them around the house for situations like this) and gently, carefully binds Jan's wrists. He doesn't let go when he's finished, but caresses his knuckles and looks him in the eyes. "Thank you," he says, sincerely.

And how could Jan have ever thought this man could be a monster? How could he have even considered the possibility? He's the furthest thing from it.

"Anytime," he says with a smile, and means it.

And, should you be inclined in the slashy direction (this is the only somewhat romantic bit and is more implication than anything)...

one night, the two of them are kissing, Bojan having pushed Jan back onto a couch. Jan's head is thrown back, Bojan is kissing his neck, licking it, but of course he's not going to bite, he'd never endanger his friend like that.

Except in that moment Jan says "you can. I trust you."

And Bojan, in that moment of intimacy...does, against his better judgment.

The next morning, Jan has a giant bite on his neck and they're all getting breakfast and Kris sees it and turns to Bojan. "you bit his neck??"

Jan: it's fine, I can wear a sexy little scarf

Kris: that's not the main issue and you know it

Bojan tries to agree with Kris, it was reckless and irresponsible and he should've known better, should've had better control but Jan isn't having any of it.

"It was my idea. I'm responsible for my own decisions. I told you I trust you, and you proved I was right."

But Kris is still concerned. "he did stop, right? You didn't have to pull him off?

Jan: for fuck's sake. It was my choice, it's not like he attacked me and fed. And he didn't come close to taking too much. In fact he stopped sooner than I frankly wanted him to."

Nace: that's ...sweet?

And it's all beautiful and wonderful and fine until Bojan goes into Jan's room, which had been Martin's room, looking for some old guitar paddle boards that he'd left behind in the closest or something, and finds....a hunter's kit stashed away there. One that Jan had practically forgotten about, hasn't thought about using in months. It comes cascading down on him, stakes and holy water and other things, just as Jan walks in with a "what are you doing?"

"I was looking for some of Martin's old equipment, but, well." He gestures at the contents of a hunter's kit scattered on the floor.

"I can explain - " Jan begins.

"So all this time, you were just...biding your time? Gathering intelligence, I presume, and making plans to rid the world of a monster?"

"No!" Jan says, forcefully. "I don't think you're a monster. I haven't for a long time. I came here believing that and looking for proof of it, because the only other vampire I've ever encountered definitely was a monster. He nearly killed my family in front of my eyes. But the more I got to know you, the more I saw who you really were. You became my friend I care for you. I trust you. I'd never hurt you, I swear."

"You let me feed from your neck," Bojan says. "What was that? Were you fucking with me? Trying to prove how tough you are?"

That, more than anything, breaks him. It was the ultimate form of intimacy for Bojan and display of trust for Jan. It was vulnerability, showing his "monstrous" side, exposing what he sees as the worst of himself, the part he fears makes him unlovable, and having it accepted. And suddenly it seems like some kind of sick game.

"No," Jan helplessly insists. "I let you do it because I trust you with my life. I wanted it. It was real, I swear it was real."

Bojan shakes his head. "Real," he says bitterly. "I trusted you. I told you about my worst fears. While you were watching and deciding whether I get to live? Taking it upon yourself to be judge, jury, and executioner and it's all supposed to be okay because you decided that I do deserve to be alive?"

And that cuts deep, floors Jan. Because isn't that what happened? He came here with an intent to kill, thinking he had the right to play god. And he might not have killed, but he took it upon himself to have that power, while basking in Bojan's trust and affection.

"I'm sorry," Jan says. "Truly. And I'll do anything to fix this. Just tell me what to do."

Bojan just shakes his head. "I have no reason to believe a single word you're saying, and I don't know if I'd ever be able to trust you again."

(in another of the million variations we had in this scene, Bojan says something like

"so if I were really the monster that you think I am, what do you think I'd do now? I'd kill the person intent on killing me, right? "pin you down, drain you of blood, make sure you can never harm me again. Isn't that what a monster like me would do in this situation?"

"I don't think you're a monster. I haven't for a long time," Jan says.

"Is that ...is that supposed to make me feel better? Is that supposed to make it okay that you came here to kill me?"

"No," Jan agrees. "You have every right to be angry, and upset. I know you feel betrayed and can't possibly trust me anymore but. What we had, the friendship, the late-night conversations, the intimacy...for me, all that was real. And I'll do anything to fix this.")

(in yet another variation, Bojan picks up one of the stakes and holds it to his heart while stepping close to Jan.

"Go on, then," he challenges, looking painfully resigned. "Do it."

Jan shakes his head, has no intention of doing it, obviously, is begging Bojan to put it down, when the others walk in. See Bojan holding a stake to his own chest, the moment clearly heated, and assuming Jan has threatened one of them. Knowing Bojan would drive a stake through his own heart to protect his own friends.

"It's not what it looks like -" Jan protests, but they ignore him, grab Jan (who doesn't resist, and tell Bojan to drop the stake.

"Don't do it. Whatever he threatened, we're not afraid. We stick together." Which makes Jan feel even worse.)

Essentially, Bojan asks for space from Jan, to begin with. Which Jan of course respects. He tells the others what happened, and that makes them furious. Jan is desperately trying to convince them, too, that he's changed, of his true intentions, but they don't want to hear a word he has to say

"He actually felt confident enough to tell US to relax! Do you have ANY idea how much that meant to him?" Kris demands.

"you made Bojan so happy. You were good for him. And it was all a ploy? Disgusting."

one of the others adds "he'd have died for you, and this is how you treat him?"

And on that angsty note, I will end :)