vampire Bojan .. because why the hell not
inspired by @signoraviolettavalery , @touchyourblood & @anxious-witch
I don't know what I'm doing, wrote this at literally 2 am a few days ago lol
contains blood and swearing and shoddily translated, probably out of character Slovene. (for some reason I can only ever get Nace's accent at least a bit close to how they actually sound but I might be imagining it... )
Not proofread (unless you count @signoraviolettavalery checking if they sound too wrong-dialect-heavy lmao), might be edited in the future, possibly has a sequel if y'all want it written
This was a mistake. He fucking knew it was a mistake the moment he stepped foot into the building.
And yet, he was still here; sitting in one of the pews of what once looked like a church; waiting for the band to finish setting up their instruments so they could go through a sound check.
Realistically, the once-sacred building shouldn’t have been an issue, with most, if not all of the holy items having been moved or archived elsewhere in the renovation process.
A chilling, bone-deep unease still loomed over him, though, and the otherwise beautiful stained glass did not dissipate his worries, especially considering the amount of vaguely stake-shaped objects and religious motifs around him.
Bojan knew he shouldn’t have agreed to this, the band knew they shouldn’t have agreed to this, but the Irish Eurovision friends they’re touring with had already announced it, so, it wasn’t really an option to back out, now.
The church creeped him out, and, despite the fact its darkness was mostly a comfort, he would’ve taken dozens of minutes in the sun, amassing sunburns, over the stifling atmosphere of the sacred ground.
Vampires and religion didn’t mix. Everyone knew that. Bojan had stopped walking the streets where the churches in Ljubljana stood since he’d been turned, but none of the band members bothered to google the name of the place the Wild Youth announced, so, he supposed, it was his own fault.
A nudge brought him out of his overthinking and he flinched before turning to see who called his attention back to the present. Nace and Kris. Of course. The pair was looking at him, worried, and he could see Jan and Jure glancing at him, concern in their eyes, while they set up the last of the drums and guitar pedals.
Having reassured the guitarist and bassist that came to check up on him with a half-assed mumbled excuse of just not sleeping well and adding a weak nod, he gestured towards the exit, wanting to get at least a bit of distance to the sacred building. Jan caught up to him after a moment, not speaking but merely observing.
Bojan knew the guitarist was concerned, especially after the prompting of “Bojči?” as he looked at the singer, concern and worry painted over his face.
“Kaj?!” (What) he faced Jan fully, fangs out unintentionally and a look like he might start crying or laughing at any moment, the emotions hiding within being anyone’s guess.
Damn, the church really did a number on him.
"Pomir' se. Prosim." (Calm down. Please.) Was Jan's response, a hand tentatively coming to rest on Bojan's shoulder as he said it.
The frustration and pent up energy drained from the singer as soon as his friend touched him and he went slack in his grip, leaning against him, giving in to the exhaustion the church caused.
"Cerkev je." (It's a church) he mumbled out, as Jan embraced him, comforted him, chased all the rest of the world off, at least for now.
"Vem. Ampak a je tak problem? Saj je zdaj že prepozno da bi kaj spremenili, gig se začne čez tri ure" (I know. But is it that much of an issue? It's too late to change anything now, the gig starts in three hours)
"Fuckin silver jewelry, too-" Bojan continued, not really hearing Jan's words, his usual demeanor taking over slightly now that he was out of the immediate vicinity of the church. At the guitarist's confused look, he elaborated, "lastnikovi prstani" (the owner's rings) and he gestured with his hands to emphasize the rest of the explanation "so b'li čisto srebro. Sem fiks da so bili srebrni" (were pure silver. I'm certain they were silver).
He brought his palms up, clear burns still present from where the jewelry touched his skin as he shook hands with the establishment's owner about half an hour ago. The marks would’ve healed under normal circumstances, but, again, religion and vampires don’t mix, with the vampires getting the short end of the stick the majority of the time.
The singer waited for Jan to connect the dots, just as Conor walked by with Kris half-running after him, panicked look on his face.
"Sorry guys, I told him you needed a minute but he wanted to know where you were," the guitarist said in lieu of a greeting.
"We're fine, Kris, just went for a smoke" Jan easily lied, somehow having produced a lit cigarette in the time it took for the two newcomers to reach them.
"Well, I just wanted to let you guys know the stage is yours for the sound check" Conor smiled, accepting Jan's lie as truth then walked away, presumably to rejoin his band, while Kris stayed behind, glancing at the Irish singer's retreating form for a while before whisper yelling at Jan and Bojan.
"What the hell is going on? You've never gone out of your way to excuse yourself for a fucking smoke break, and I want to know why you're out here and not in there, checking the acoustics" he demanded, looking at the both of them.
Jan looked at Bojan, tipping his head minutely, and the singer lifted his palms again, showing the marks.
At Kris' concerned but puzzled expression, he added, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "Silver rings. Sacred grounds mean less healing."
“Sranje” (shit) was the only response the younger guitarist muttered, looking around somewhat, suddenly deep in thought as to how to minimize any future damage.
A brief attempt at getting back into the building was made, but Bojan reeled back after taking just a few steps inside, ending up in front of the venue again.
“In kaj zdaj?” (And what now?) Jan asked, looking at both of the younger band members to see what the plan of action was going to be.
“You’re sitting the hell down and resting, and the rest of us are gonna see how long we can stall” Nace suddenly appeared, having gone looking for the missing band members since they entered and exited the church again so quickly.
Bojan fondly rolled his eyes, muttering something about Nace turning into such a dad, before relenting and dropping into a squat on the spot. For a second he considered leaning onto the wall behind him, but given the track record of the day so far and the way his head was starting to swim, he decided against it.
“Ti greš nazaj na avtobus, pa pil boš, bomo poj videli, kako bo” (You’re going back to the bus, you’ll drink, then we’ll see what to do/where to go from there) Nace instructed, gently nudging Bojan towards the vehicle after lightly pulling him back upwards.
Once Bojan mumbled something that sounded vaguely like him agreeing, Nace and Jan helped him get to the bus, supporting him from either side and passing it off as a need for a power nap to the Wild Youth guys waiting around the vehicle.
Once inside, they headed to the bathroom, knowing it’d be the easiest to clean if anything happened. Bojan looked a bit better, just enough to scowl at Jan when he rolled up his sleeve.
“Ne, ne bom, danes igraš, pa kratke rokave imamo” (No, I won’t, you’re playing today and we have short sleeves) Bojan insisted, refusing despite his instincts telling him the church adventure was dangerous and he was still plagued with the bone-deep tiredness that followed the brief adrenaline rush earlier.
“You’ll just lick it, it’ll be fine, it’ll heal in time” Jan argued, still not ceasing, worry etched onto his features.
“No, no, it won’t be fine.. I feel like shit, meaning the healing won’t fucking work and the fans will go crazy if you show up with bandages on your wrists. Plus, you won’t be able to play as well. It’s too late to do it and have it heal. Especially here.” the vampire gestures around, resigned, leaning his head onto the nearby wall.
The guitarist and bassist exchanged glances, knowing both that Bojan needed to feed and the fact he was right. People would notice a bandage or a scab on their arms, especially if the musicians were as close to the audience as they’d been so far. Especially with the photos they were sure to get from tonight. With all the otherwise teasingly close shots.
Fuck.
They were utterly and completely screwed; the singer was slumping more and more, Jan sitting beside him to help hold him up.
Time was running out. They still had to do soundchecks and get ready for the performance.
“I’ll just put on the long sleeved shirt,” Jan stated, suddenly.
“Vroč’ ti bo” (You’ll overheat/be hot) Bojan supplied, while Nace just tilted his head slightly in thought.
“Might work, actually, just unbutton the top few buttons. They’ll think it’s intentional. And use your right hand. Less time exposed to the audience” the bassist nodded back towards the pair situated on the cramped bathroom floor.
“See? Now drink, for fuck’s sake” Jan stuck his right wrist in front of the singer’s face, determined expression on his face.
Bojan just blinked, sluggish, his eyes taking way too long to open and focus on Jan’s hand.
The guitarist’s heartbeat was like a lifeline, the promise of food, of energy, of a state better than this.
“Ne boš mogel špilat” (you won’t be able to play) he insisted, regardless, knowing the band usually took a few days to recuperate after Bojan fed, their wrists sore and needing rest.
“Srajca ima ovratnik?” ((does) The shirt have a collar) the guitarist asked instead, and, when Nace nodded, slightly perplexed, Jan moved to tuck his hair to one side, baring his neck to Bojan.
“Boš dal lase tud’ čez?” (Will you put your hair over that, too?) Nace asked, catching on.
Jan merely hummed, then leaned his head away from Bojan, exposing the side of his neck even more.
The singer merely swore before giving up, unable to hold onto lucidity or consciousness much longer, leaning forward to sink his teeth into the pale flesh of Jan’s neck.
The guitarist hissed slightly as Bojan began to drink, the sensation foreign.
“Dost’ maš, da ne bo skup’ padel” (you’ve gotten enough, (stop) so he doesn’t pass out)Jan heard Nace say, before he was gently tugged away from Bojan, the vampire baring his fangs in aggression for a moment, clearly pissed his meal was cut short, before he regained awareness and his eyes widened in worry. He hurried to seal as much as he could, the skin stitching itself up once he licked it. Nace cringed a bit, still not used to the sight, while Jan merely blinked, languidly, and leaned more onto the bassist.
“Si okej?” (you okay?) the taller asked, and Jan merely nodded, still recovering, dots dancing in his vision, while Bojan wiped some drops of blood from his own chin and pulled out his phone.
The next time the older guitarist became aware of his surroundings, Kris was crouched in front of him, holding what looked like a smoothie.
“Hvala” (thanks) Jan managed to get out, before gingerly holding the bottle and taking a few sips, the blood loss still apparent despite the group’s best efforts.
“Bojan needs to drink more carefully, or more often, but you should be okay as long as you don’t bend down towards the crowd. You were only a bit mumbly for a second there” the younger said, arranging Jan’s hair in a way that covered most of the bite mark and small bruise surrounding it.
Bojan looked more like himself, at least, his previously barely emoting pale ashy face now regaining at least some color (not that he would’ve gotten much anyway, being a creature of the night and all).
The group finally looked ready to get to the soundcheck. The singer now in much higher spirits, they headed towards the church once more, Jan gingerly putting a hand over the mark on his neck to hide it from any queueing fans and pretended to stretch, hopefully further selling the illusion of the power nap excuse.
Bojan still hated this, for the record. But, the show had to go on, and now, the worry of failing on stage was eating at him more than the ex-church’s influence did.
Regardless, he stepped onto the stage and prepared for the soundcheck of what was sure to be a memorable concert in all their lives.
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