Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Temptation is… so sweetly threatening.

To tempt is not to force to want, but to demand recognition for a denied desire.

This particular story of such an unwilling exploration begins at a place far from home. Han Jisung is only here to help, brought along with his peers by the local church. The flooding last week has caused so much suffering in this town. Jisung watched with a heavy heart as they drove past the houses that took it the worst. They pulled to a stop by the church, where tents had already been set up. He clambered out of the back of the car after his friends, helping to unload the food they brought with them. The youth group members are supposed to be helping with supplying meals for the families who need them. Jisung had been wondering how many they would get to feed in a single day.

This is where this story begins. It is here, in this town, standing over an entire table covered in half-made sandwiches, that he first meets the demon.

They are working with the soldiers who are here to help those struck by the natural disaster. And poor Jisung. He cannot stop. He cannot keep himself from staring. He stares at the young soldiers, his heart rabbiting in his chest and his mind full, oh so full. There are thoughts coming to him a mile a minute, so many that he fears he’s going insane, that someone has cursed him. It feels as if the thoughts are fed to his mind, images shoved before his eyes without a way to squeeze them shut.

Little does he know, he isn’t far from the truth. Little does he know, he’s been on the radar of a particular hellspawn for a while now. He noticed Jisung first when the boy – still a boy then, still a boy now – feared the rage of his God for the first time. Back then, the young teen was first coming to the petrifying realization that he felt things. Things they say he shouldn’t. Urges to deny, needs he must not tend to. Not before marriage, right?

But, much to the demon’s disappointment, he found he got himself under control almost effortlessly. As it turned out, he never really fancied any of his classmates or the rest of the girls from school. They were pretty and all, but still, Jisung found it rather easy not to think about them. The demon almost gave up on him, and almost went ahead to find his fun somewhere else. Until Jisung got a little older and on one fateful day he understood.

Oh, he thought, oh no. Oh, this is so much worse.

Poor Han Jisung, having already almost made it out of his teens, just wishing his hormones would stop making his life miserable already, was now facing a realization that would certainly be a lot harder to ignore than just fancying some girl. And much more severely punished, surely, if he failed.

He’s held out so far, but here he is now, trying to focus on his sandwiches when through the tent another soldier passes, and as a gift to go with the demon’s introduction, images surge in Jisung’s mind. Then, in the form of a low, despicably teasing voice, Jisung hears the first ever words the demon speaks to him.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin. The responding chuckle is coming from right next to him, and it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge. He whirls around to look, and there he is. Though, it doesn’t immediately register what he is, given that he looks positively identifiably human. A human, who appears to have caught Jisung red-handed, consequently turning him red-cheeked too.

Still, caught off guard as he is, Jisung is no stranger to teasing remarks (thanks to Hyunjin and Felix, though maybe thanking them would be a step too far). He recovers relatively fast, considering his circumstances, mumbling something in response and trying to focus on assembling the sandwiches they’ll take to distribute among the families later. He must be imagining the flash of red he catches in the stranger’s eyes. He’s sure he is imagining it. Gosh… he needs a break. Needs to relax and stop thinking. Otherwise, it will drive him mad.

Unfortunately, his break only comes when he gets home and falls headfirst into bed. Finally, he gets to catch his breath. What he doesn’t get to do is stop thinking because suddenly the thoughts are all back, in full force. He is imagining it all again, and he feels cold, icy shame rush through his body because he knows, deep down he knows the images are somehow appealing to him, as disturbing as they are.

The thought of one of the soldiers grabbing him and leading him aside, kissing him deeply has Jisung squirming in his sheets, head buried into his pillow. Then there comes another thought, this time of a soldier bending him over the table he slaved away over all day, and taking him without regard to who might walk in and see. Jisung whimpers and shakes his head, trying to get rid of the images. He doesn’t want to think about it. It’s wrong. He is ashamed. And he is so, so hard right now and that is absolutely unacceptable and he hates himself a little (read: a lot) for it.

There appears another image in his head but he shoves it under a rug before it even fully forms. It tries to enter his mind again, but Jisung fights, shaking his head with another whine. He cannot. He mustn’t! The thought prods at his skull again, and Jisung actually says “No!” out loud this time. He will not touch himself. It is a sin! He really cannot!

“Seriously?” A voice comes from the corner of his room, and Jisung scrambles upright, turning to look at whoever snuck into his room. “You’re still gonna deny yourself?”

It’s the guy from the volunteers’ tent. His eyes are burning red and Jisung suddenly becomes aware of what the man is. He wasn’t imagining it after all.

“You–”

“Come on, Jisung…” the man coaxes, taking a step closer. He never breaks eye contact. “You know you want to. Just give in.”

“How–” Jisung shakes his head. “No! How did you get in?”

“Your room or your head?” the demon—for that is surely what he is—asks with a smirk. Jisung gasps.

He is in his head! He is the one the thoughts are coming from! They aren’t Jisung’s own after all! (This makes him feel a little less guilty.)

“Go away! Or I’ll…”

“What, pray me away?” The demon snorts. “Come on, Jisung, don’t be stupid.”

“How do you know my name?” the mortal demands.

The demon stretches his lips into a wide, almost evil smile, his teeth somehow appearing sharper than teeth ought to be.

“I know a lot more about you than just your name, Han Jisung,” he says. Then the light above the bed flickers, and in that instant he is gone. Disappeared from the boy’s sight.

“And you…” There is a breath down Jisung’s neck. He turns with a yelp, pulse skyrocketing as he stares at the demon, who has somehow moved onto the bed behind him. Having turned around, the demon only needed to lean forward a hair’s breadth to have his face very, very close to Jisung’s own. “Are a lot less innocent than you’d like everyone to believe.”

“No!” Jisung tries to shove the man away, but as he moves, the lights flicker again, and he is gone. 

Fool me once, Jisung thinks as he whirls around to find the demon once again. This time though, he appears well and truly gone. All that’s left is his chuckle, echoing through Jisung’s room. Or head. He isn’t sure which.

And despite Jisung’s paranoia that he will now have a demon plaguing his life until his soul is taken from him, or worse, he has sex , the demon actually goes away. For a long enough time that Jisung is left… wondering. Maybe those desires really came from the demon after all. Maybe he isn’t… Maybe he’s normal after all!

Until one day, almost a year later, he feels it. Jisung feels… off. He feels weird. There’s something shifting in the pit of his stomach and it feels very wrong , and somehow the first conclusion he comes to is that the demon must be back.

He pauses in his homework and listens.

He tilts his head as if he’s expecting to hear some distant sound (when in reality he’s just expecting to hear gay thoughts).

He turns around when they don’t come, suspicious. There is nobody else in his room, though. He waits another minute, and still nothing. So he turns back to his homework, and then it hits. There is no imagery this time, just a very, very strong need to touch . To put his hand flat against his stomach and drag it down along the side of his waist, down over his legs, back up his inner thighs…

Jisung sighs. “Had your fun already?” He calls out to the empty room.

“Admit it.” The now familiar voice rings out from behind him, from near his bed. “You missed me.”

Jisung snorts, keeping his eyes on his trigonometric functions. “No way.”

“You kept thinking about me though,” the demon argues.

Which is, well… yes. True. But Jisung is not about to admit that. Besides, it was more of an oh god, I hope he never appears again oh god am I free than a man I miss the guy he was kinda fun, to be frank.

“Well, every once in a while I remember fruit flies exist, even during winter.” Jisung shrugs.

“So I’m like a fruit fly to you?” The demon chuckles.

“Yup! Good for nothing, annoying as hell,” he begins to list his perceived similarities but the demon’s laughter cuts him off.

“I have to agree, there’s really nothing I’d ever be good for. And well, about the hell part… did you expect anything else from me, really?”

Jisung rolls his eyes and turns around to respond to the highly annoying demon. He immediately regrets this. “Jesus Christ–”

“Tsk, tsk… Jisungie… You dare take his name in vain?” the demon chides.

The demon, who is indeed sitting on Jisung’s bed.

Shirtless.

Jisung averts his eyes as soon as they land on the expanse of pale skin, of which there is, arguably, far too much visible.

“Still as much of a prude as ever, I see…” the demon comments, and Jisung groans. Is he really just here to make fun of him? Are demons that easily bored?! 

“What do you want from me?” Jisung asks, exasperated.

“Oh?” The demon’s grin is audible in his tone. “You haven't figured it out yet? That’s okay, Jisungie, I can show you.”

“Wait!” 

There is no point. The images flood his mind again before he has time to object or do something against it. Not that he could have done anything to begin with.

They’re clearer than they have ever been before. When they finally fade, Jisung is left gasping, hands gripping the edge of his desk. He is shaking, with a whimper lingering at the tip of his tongue, and so, so hard.

The demon is waiting for Jisung to make a sound, to react, to yell at him. Almost patiently. Then again, far be it from Jisung to attribute any good trait like patience to a demon.

Also, Jisung is not—contrary to popular belief—stupid. He knows what the demon is driving at, knows when someone’s trying to get a rise out of him. So when he looks up at the demon, he speaks only to ask one thing.

“ Chan ?”

The demon’s eyebrows raise in interest.

“You… In one of the visions, you made me say that name. Is it yours?”

The demon smirks, nonchalant as ever. “Scream it, more like.”

“Is it your name?” Jisung insists, not about to enter the demon’s silly games.

Chan—if that even is his real name—smiles and tilts his head. “Why do you wanna know, little one?”

He speaks so softly that Jisung’s body, despite the teasing tone, begins to catch on fire, warmth spreading over him in a hasty blaze. His face is red, he knows it. The oddly affectionate name does something to Jisung, and all he can do is clear his throat and look away again.

“Is it cause you want to moan something the next time you touch yourself?” Oh, he can hear the demon move closer. Jisung can’t scoot his chair further away, he can only turn his back to the approaching man. He doesn’t want to face him. Doesn’t dare to.

“Oh, wait. I forgot. You don’t do that, right? Cause you can’t… Cause Han Jisung needs to be a good boy.”

The shiver that runs down along Jisung’s spine must have been from how close the demon sounds.

“I’ll tell you what, though, Jisungie…” The demon speaks in a low rumble, a murmur next to Jisung’s ears. The boy shuts his eyes tightly, hands gripping at the hem of his shirt. He fears the demon’s next words.

“You wanna be good? Then do something really good. And trust me, touching yourself like that?” Fingers run through Jisung’s hair, massaging his scalp and petting gently. “It feels really good, you know?”

There’s the slightest little tug at his hair, and it forces an embarrassingly high whine out of Jisung. He slaps his hand over his mouth. The demon seems undisturbed by this, as he only keeps talking.

“Do you wanna know a secret, Han Jisung?”

Jisung shakes his head, eyes still closed in terror.

“Oh, but I think you do. I think you should know that you can make yourself feel really nice. I know,” the demon says and then there are the images again, this time not of Jisung though. It’s the demon, naked, and Jisung cannot close or avert his eyes because it is all in his head. He is forced to watch the demon’s hands move, his muscles twitch, his face contorted in pleasure. He hears the quiet moan that leaves his lips that Jisung can see slowly parting. “I know it feels good. And when I feel good… Well, I already know your name, don’t I?”

Jisung jolts, standing up with a force that sends his chair to the floor. He is panting, and when he whirls around to scream at the demon, Chan is gone. He is gone, and Jisung is left alone and aching and with thoughts he cannot chase away. Again. However, unbeknownst to him, the images in Jisung’s mind aren’t supplied by the demon this time. They are simply the thoughts that linger.

They earn him an uncomfortable few weeks, but he somehow manages to not be completely obvious about it. The last thing he needs is for his family or his friends to get suspicious.

Chan doesn’t return, though not because he doesn’t want to. He is just having too much fun to let the game end so fast.

Oh, he almost had him that time. It would have been a shame to cut their fun so short. But man. It would have been so easy. Jisung was already basically his, completely under his figurative spell for that one, precious moment, he just needed to push a little more. If he’d just put his lips on Jisung’s skin before he had the chance to stand up. If he’d just wrapped his arms around the small body of the mortal, kissed him there, at the crook of his neck…

He would have had him, for sure. But no, Chan tells himself. It’s better this way. Even though he smelled so sweetly innocent. Even if he would have felt so good under him. 

No… It can’t end so soon. Not when this is the most fun the demon has had in a hot minute. Better to wait until they break completely. Because to have his prey give in is one thing. But to have them come begging is… far superior. 

And Jisung would sound downright divine when he begs, Chan reckons.

Chapter Text

Chan left Jisung alone again, for weeks. This time, though, there was absolutely no hope in Jisung that the demon had left him for good. He knew that eventually, he’d have to face him again. And when the time comes, he’ll probably be subjected to the same sort of teasing and forceful intrusive thoughts. He was trying to mentally prepare himself for the inevitability of it.

He just didn’t expect it to happen while he was at church .

Jisung is sitting in the third row, and when the pastor tells them to rise for yet another song before he begins to go over the moral of yet another bible story, he feels the demon’s presence again.

Jisung’s face pales and he completely forgets the song he’s supposed to be singing because he is desperately trying to ready himself for the thoughts that he knows will come. He’s preparing to fight them back, he’s trying to focus elsewhere and misses the start of the song. He only joins his parents and the rest of the gathering in their singing about three syllables in—something that doesn’t escape his mother’s attention.

It’s fine. He will just say he was thinking about a school assignment. He will still get scolded for being distracted while he should be listening to the word of the Lord, Amen, but the repercussions will still be less severe than if he were to admit he was too busy thinking about this demon he’s been dreaming about every damned night for weeks.

His one solace is that he’s standing on holy ground. As long as he’s here, Chan—the demon , who Jisung will not do the courtesy of calling by name, cannot get to him. 

Distracted as he is, he gets through the pastor’s story and the last few songs and prayers just fine. His mother on the other hand seems pissed. However, Jisung has already had time to plan his next move.

They have only made it to the door of the church when Jisung taps his mother’s elbow. Inside the church still, he pulls her aside.

“You’ve got something on your mind, young man?” she asks, and although she must be mad, it is already clear by her tone that she is also a little worried.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung begins. “I was thinking about Mr Park’s assignment all morning, and I kept getting distracted even after we got here. I just… Can I stay a little longer? I don’t feel like I did all that good in worship today, and Pastor Nam said the youth group members can help in the church garden this weekend. Would you… mind if I ask him to let me stay?”

His mother seems pleasantly surprised, almost proud to have raised such a pious son. If only she knew the reason behind Jisung’s eagerness to stay on church grounds.

She not only allows him to stay but even asks the pastor for him. He welcomes the young man cheerfully, always happy to have some helping hands, he says. Jisung tries not to let out too obvious a sigh of relief. He follows the reverend through the side doors, looking back over his shoulder to promise his mother to be home by tea time.

The longer he can drag this out, the better.

It isn’t his first time tending to the garden at the church park, so the reverend lets him go to the toolshed on his own. He grew up doing this, having always had a fondness for flowers. He would have been insecure about it, if not for Hyunjin, his friend, who shares his interest. He picks up a pair of gloves, deciding to do some weeding. Perhaps it will help weed out some of his less-than-pleasant thoughts, too…

He works quietly in the flowerbed, which stretches along the fence that separates the rice fields from the churchyard. There’s a narrow dirt path between the two cultivated patches of land. It’s only a couple of yards wide, but Jisung feels sufficiently separated from the handful of farmers he can see working in the paddy fields. It’s mostly to the credit of the grassy path and the fence between them that he can tune their existence out of his mind and focus.

He keeps his head down, his eyes on the weeds and flowers, and in his head, he says his prayers like a mantra.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re doing this on purpose.”

Jisung glances at the black leather boots that have appeared on the other side of the fence, but doesn’t respond. He is fine as long as he is on holy ground. No ‘ suddenly teleporting behind him ’ this time. 

“Come on, Sister, leave the monastery, you could have a much better life with me…” Chan taunts him.

He wants to call Jisung a nun? Let him. He’s fine with that. What is not fine is the crabgrass that’s grown between the tulips. He can’t have that! He carefully uproots each one, making sure the whole plant is removed properly.

“Come on, Jisung. You must have missed me…”

Jisung snorts.

“What’s so funny?”

“You hardly left me any time to miss you,” Jisung points out. Though Chan never appeared during the day, he definitely paid Jisung enough nighttime visits to give him dark circles.

“Oh, come on now, it’s been weeks! Surely, you missed me at least a little,” Chan argues and Jisung looks up against his better judgment. Thankfully, this time Chan is fully clothed, but his coy, dimpled smile is just as annoying as it had been the last time Jisung saw him in daylight.

“Am I supposed to pretend like you actually went away for weeks? Do you expect me to welcome you home like a poor housewife whose husband finally returned from war?”

Chan quirks an eyebrow, his smile growing wider. “Interesting roles you’ve picked for us, darling.”

Jisung rolls his eyes.

“But I am serious,” Chan speaks, and to his credit, he actually sounds like it. Kinda. Maybe. “I really haven’t been here since I was in your room.”

“Which was what, two days ago?” Jisung mutters as he tears out a dandelion. He fails to pull the roots though, only removing the leaves. “Ah, dip…”

“Um, no? It was like… almost three weeks ago,” Chan says, and he sounds perfectly baffled. This also confuses Jisung, who remembers seeing Chan in his dreams as clearly as if it happened in the middle of the day. “Are you cheating on me with another demon, Jisungie?”

Chan still manages to tease him despite his apparent confusion. Jisung rolls his eyes. He really saw Chan! He looks up at the demon and says as much. “You cannot tell me that wasn’t you.”

Chan holds eye contact with him for a long moment before he grins. It looks, for lack of a better word, devilish.

“Oh, Jisungie… Those dreams didn’t come from me,” Chan says, resting his crossed arms on the fence between them. “That is a hell entirely of your own making~”

Jisung pales as the meaning behind the demon’s words registers. A hell of his own making… Did he dream those things up… all by himself? 

Why didn’t he wake up in a cold sweat, paralyzed, like he so often does after a nightmare, then?

“See? I told you,” Chan speaks, quiet, yet openly pleased with himself. “You did miss me.”

Jisung casts his eyes downwards, staring at the tulips with great intensity.

“Damn, you gotta tell me all about these dreams now,” Chan says, and Jisung wishes he’d just stuck to his plan and never spoken to him. “What did we do? Maybe I can help make your dreams come true, huh? What do you say?”

Jisung hates this. He knows Chan is playing with him. He knows because despite being all talk, he’s not invading Jisung’s mind at all this time. He’s just… Talking. Joking around.

Chan only wants to make fun of him.

“How bored do demons get, seriously…?” Jisung whispers under his breath, but Chan somehow hears him, if his chuckle is anything to go by.

“Well, with you, I’m finding it quite difficult to get bored at all. You’re very entertaining.”

“Well, if you’ve played enough, then please leave. And this time, don’t come back,” Jisung bites back, rising to his feet. He stares at Chan over the fence, and the demon holds his gaze.

“You know why I’m here,” Chan notes, eyes roaming over Jisung’s face first, then slowly trailing down his body, fully exposed now to the demon’s hungry gaze. “Do you think I’d leave before we even got to the fun part?”

“You can’t touch me here,” Jisung says defiantly.

“I don’t need to touch you,” Chan points out with an amused half-smile. “You can do that all by yourself, I believe in you.”

Jisung’s blood freezes over. Surely, he wouldn’t—

“No. You can’t, not here–”

“Oh, please,” Chan rolls his eyes. “You’re staying here 'cause I can’t get to you, but unlike you, I don’t need to be home by tea time .”

Jisung is standing there, paralyzed. He doesn’t know what Chan will do, but he knows he hates all the options he has.

“If I really wanted, I could send you home looking absolutely and completely ruined, and you can’t do anything about it.”

Chan’s right. As soon as Jisung leaves here, he will be entirely at the demon’s mercy. He’s just a simple mortal after all.

“I’ll just… never leave,” Jisung says quietly, ever defiant.

Chan laughs, bright and threatening. His eyes form gleeful crescents and he looks at Jisung with great amusement. Then, his smile disappears and he pushes himself away from the fence he’s been leaning against. He takes a couple of steps back, and before Jisung realizes what he is doing, he’s already taken a running start. Chan steadies himself with one hand and hops over the fence with practised ease. He lands next to Jisung in the grass, having carefully avoided the flowerbed.

Oh, Jisung is so fucked.

Potentially literally.

“Again,” Chan speaks. Looking way too smug and finding Jisung’s terror to be way more amusing than he has any right to. “I can send you home completely ruined, and you cannot do a damn thing about it.”

Jisung squeaks when Chan takes a step closer, pulling his hands up in subconscious self-defence.

“Well. I did say I’d only do that if I really wanted to,” Chan says, putting his hands in his pockets as he walks closer. “But you’re already so worked up and I’m not even doing anything. Isn’t this more fun?”

Jisung’s head is spinning, and yet he laughs miserably, looking to the sky as if to ask, “God, are you seeing this?” He fails to see what could be fun about any of this.

“Come on, Jisungie… Play with me~ It will be fun,” Chan coaxes, stopping only a few feet away from Jisung, who still has his hands up in defence.

“I am not interested in your games,” he whispers. He thinks he might be shaking.

“Aren’t you? And here I was, thinking you kept dreaming about me because you’re interested.” Chan tuts.

“Too bad, it seems you were mistaken,” Jisung argues petulantly.

“Don’t you want me to leave?” the demon asks out of the blue, catching Jisung off guard.

“Yes.” Of course he does. He just wants Chan to go away and never return.

“Then why don’t you play with me?” Chan offers. “Don’t you know I’d go if you gave me what I want?”

Jisung swallows. For one, single, stupid instant, that deal seems tempting . But Jisung isn’t that stupid. He cannot take the demon’s words for it.

Unless…

“If I… do a thing that you’ve shown me before…” Jisung’s voice shakes and he hopes, he prays the demon can’t read his mind all that well. It’s a dangerous game to try and play a trick on the devil. “Will you leave?”

Chan quirks an eyebrow. “We could make a deal like that,” he offers.

“That’s the deal then. Deal?” Jisung asks hurriedly. Chan laughs, probably assuming he’s eager to do… things.

“Deal.”

Before he can change his mind, Jisung moves the hands he has kept raised in front of himself for protection, and grabs onto Chan’s collar with them both. He pulls the man, the demon , who is a man who is a demon and oh God, forgive him for this, he presses his lips firmly against the other’s. There’s a sound, which Jisung’s brain registers weakly as one of surprise, coming from the demon. Then he pushes Chan away, taking a few steps backwards for good measure.

“There. That’s one of the things you’ve shown me before. All done. Now go,” he says to the tips of his shoes, and he hopes to God demons keep true to their words.

…maybe that was foolish to bet on.

Or maybe not, because Chan huffs, perhaps in disbelief, but then says, “Fair game. I concede this round.”

Jisung can only see his boots, as his eyes are still downcast. Then, when he blinks, the boots are gone.

Chan is gone.

Jisung is left alone in the churchyard, replaying the interaction in his head over and over again. 

This round, the demon said. Jisung won. But this round—

Fuck. He made the deal almost perfectly. Almost.

He never told Chan not to come back.

Chapter Text

Chan needs sin to survive.

Quite literally. He feeds on sins committed by others, as all demons do. Specifically, on their corrupted faith and innocence. It is why he has been trying to tempt Jisung. And the more he thinks about it, with Jisung, it’s been kind of fun! There is none of the usual stress of whether he will succeed this time. Like, sue him but he’s pretty much certain Jisung will be his eventually. And by God, his innocence will be enough to feed him for a long time, so he really is in no rush this time around. Which is why he chose to have fun with it. To enjoy it.

Really savour the meal, if you will.

And it’s not like he’ll destroy Jisung or eat his soul or anything. He won’t die . Nah, Chan just needs to corrupt him. The more faithful and pious his target the better, because they have all the more beliefs and innocence for Chan to taint. The more faith someone has, the stronger the desire it can turn to. Which happens to be just what Chan is after. And well, Jisung is about as pure as they come, so he’s got nothing to worry about. 

He can enjoy the process now. And so he plays around. It’s good that Jisung is so young, too, because younger ones are always more eager to play.

But then…

Then, when he decided to pop in for a little visit, to have a little laugh about Jisung’s misery by picking the worst time possible… When he really was there more to have fun than to actually tempt the young man, like, seriously, then Jisung offered himself up?

Chan had always had a thing for people offering themselves instead of playing hard to get. He loves being wanted and desired, it’s at the core of his existence. But he also adores the feeling of being able to claim something as his. To be given permission is his greatest high, and as un-demon-like as that is, he loves driving his victims mad with desire until they beg to be taken.

So when Jisung offered to give him something , with only the smallest little nudge, Chan was ecstatic. He held his breath and watched intently for what Jisung would do, what he’d give him. And all Jisung did was… kiss him. 

It was a short, brief kiss, with no song and dance about it, with absolutely no finesse or technique to it. Really, it could barely be called a peck, let alone a kiss. Still. Chan feels something in his chest swirl warmly. However innocent the kiss feels, to Jisung it clearly was anything but.

It was sweet and warm and thick, and it felt better than anything Chan had ever tasted. Jisung’s first desire left Chan buzzing and dazed, and it was just a barely-real kiss. He had been so lost in the feeling of it all that he didn’t even realize Jisung’s intentions until he spoke. Then, Chan realized what the deal had really been and well… he just got hard.

And he somehow felt proud of the mortal for pulling it off. He could respect it, you know? Like, sure, Jisung didn’t win the war, but admittedly, he kinda nailed the battle. So Chan admits defeat and lets Jisung off the hook, half out of amusement and half out of needing a moment to think. 

Because wow. Just one kiss and Jisung’s already fed the demon for a while .

And now Chan cannot help but wonder what the Hell it might be like to actually make Jisung give into his temptations. And also… He finds himself, well, fond? Of the young man because damn, that little kiss mattered so much to him? And yet. And yet he gave his very first kiss to Chan, who finds himself tracing his own lips with the tips of his fingers with an absentminded smile. Thinking of the determined look Jisung had on his face right before he grabbed the demon’s collar. 

Maybe Chan had underestimated just how pure and how sweet this particular meal of his would be. Well, all the more reason to make it last longer, right?

School life is… it’s a lot. Especially in your final year, because while in some aspects people kind of start to go easy on you, but only because they’re aware you have an unholy amount of studying to do for your finals. Which are all taking like, a lot of your attention. Couple that with the church stuff, like, the youth group shit and all, and it’s any wonder he can’t catch his breath, Jisung thinks. 

And yes, he has a lot on his plate. But I’ll tell you something else. It is always the same old shit. Seriously. Every other damn day is either a School Day ™ or a Church Day ™ so all he really has to himself are his Saturdays. But those usually have to be spent catching up on whatever schoolwork he’s behind on, and then… And then.

Then Jisung is forced to realize that he has literally no life outside of school and church and once he’s done with his studies, he has a whole day of just… nothing . His school days are busy, technically, but boring and full of that same old shit. Church days are busy but boring and full of that same old shit. And every Saturday, Jisung just sits at his desk, strumming his fingers against the wood, staring through his window, thinking, “What the fuck am I doing with my life?”

This is a very long-winded way to say that, come Saturday, every week, Jisung is forced to come to the same gutting realization. That Chan was, and he hates to admit this, kinda right. Jisung does, in fact, miss him.

(So you can imagine the kind of dark places his head has been.)

Jisung misses Chan because unlike most fucking things in his life, Chan actually happens . And Jisung hates it. He hates it so much that his life is literally so boring that he starts looking forward to being subjected to psychic torture by a demon! You know! Just to shake things up a bit?!

Like, he feels awful for being so desperate but the fact of the matter is, he is that desperate. So the next time he feels the demon’s presence, (on a Saturday, no less) Jisung first feels relief and his first thought is, “Oh, thank God.”

There’s a chuckle behind him.

“God hardly has anything to do with this,” Chan notes, and Jisung realizes he’d spoken aloud just now. It also registers that maybe he shouldn’t be glad that the demon is back, and immediately the guilt sets in.

Jisung rises from his desk and turns to face his guest— intruder . The demon is an intruder. Chan is smiling as always, arms crossed over his chest, thankfully wearing clothes again. This time it’s a different but still fully black outfit. Though, with how tightly the fabric of his turtleneck clings to his skin, he may as well have come shirtless again.

“I wonder what you’re gonna say this time. Not cause I dunno the answer, but cause you always come up with a fun little lie.” The demon walks up to him slowly, and Jisung takes an instinctive step back. Chan licks his lips just as Jisung’s butt hits the desk behind him. With one more step, Chan puts his two hands flat against the surface, caging Jisung between himself and the desk. “Tell me, little one. Did you miss me this time?”

Jisung opens his mouth, but so does Chan, perfectly mirroring his expression. “Ah,” the demon cuts him off, lifting a hand to shake his finger at him in a chiding manner, before slamming it back down on the table, making the young man jump. “Remember, Jisung, telling lies is a sin.”

The words get clogged in Jisung’s throat. Chan grins.

“So you were about to tell a lie, huh?” He raises his eyebrows and Jisung’s blood runs cold. Chan has trapped him, in quite possibly every sense of the word.

“Go ahead,” Chan says in a quiet drawl to the man, who’s frozen in place. He leans closer and all Jisung can do is lean back to try and get away. “Tell me you didn’t miss me. Tell me you didn’t want me to come back. Tell me all your lies.” Chan’s voice drops to a whisper right as his gaze drops to Jisung’s lips, making it clear what he’s thinking of when he says, “Sin for me again.”

Jisung, my strongest soldier, manages to not scream like a banshee like his heart yearns to because what the actual—

He does make a tiny little squeak and then he shuts his eyes, pressing his lips together, too, just for good measure. Sucks them in until they just form a straight line, because who knows what the demon is gonna try to do next.

And I feel it is important to mention at this juncture that Chan isn’t actually lying. He does actually know the truth. He knows Jisung missed him. He knows because he didn’t really stay away for long. Even if he didn’t show up to greet him face to face for a good few weeks, he kept watching Jisung from nearby. Especially at night, after what Jisung had told him last time.

So Chan is fully aware of how bored Jisung really is. And that, despite hating himself for it, despite absolutely despising himself for wanting it, for knowing he’ll go to hell and knowing he is the scum of all scum, Jisung still wanted Chan to show up again. Because at least that’s something.

Chan knows all this. Knows that the loud hammering of Jisung’s heart is not just fear, but also an underlying layer of thrumming anticipation for what the demon will do next.

Chan knows that feeling. He has felt it not too long ago, standing in the churchyard with Jisung, waiting to see what the mortal would give him.

Well, Chan doesn’t like owing things to people. So… it’s only right that he returns the favour, right?

He presses a kiss over Jisung’s tightly shut lips, and it surprises the mortal enough to make him jump. But even more importantly, he makes a sound and gasps. Chan needs exactly that, and he kisses Jisung again, capturing his newly freed lips in a much more tender kiss than what he is normally used to, but hey. He is here to fulfil and feed on Jisung’s desires, and the guy isn’t exactly looking for the roughness that most people would typically want from Chan.

Jisung whimpers against him, his hand hitting Chan’s chest weakly. The demon ignores him and kisses him more, another languid movement against his lips. Chan uses his own hand to cup Jisung’s chin and angle his head to kiss him easier, and, when Jisung parts his lips to take a shaky breath, to kiss him deeper.

And good God, Jisung feels dizzy and faint. His mind is muddy, for once the direct opposite of what it’s usually like during Chan’s visits. Normally so full of thoughts beyond his own, however, this time it’s silent. Or rather it’s buzzing, a distant static to mimic the numbness of his body, which feels as if it’s melting into Chan, folding itself into his hold despite knowing that he should probably be pushing the demon away instead. But he feels so good .

Chan is probably the worst thing to have ever happened to him, and yet when his lips cover Jisung’s and his tongue finds its way past them, exploring almost gently behind the line of his teeth, licking past the curve of them, rewarding with soft kisses against the swollen flesh to let him breathe… God, he feels good. How can Chan be so bad, when he feels so good?

Jisung wonders, distant thoughts emerging from the fog in his head, what it must feel like. If just kissing him feels like this , then what could all the other things Chan had made him feel and see before be like? Gosh, Jisung cannot even imagine, but he wants to know. He wants—

How can God put the thing you want the most right in front of you and then tell you you cannot have it? No wonder Eve took a bite of the apple…

Jisung gasps, all of his brain cells turning back on at once. He pushes against Chan, fighting to get him away. He squirms, trying to get out of the demon’s hold.

What is he doing? What was he thinking ?! This is… This is exactly what the demon wants! For him to give in, to deny his God, to– 

To fall into temptation.

“No.” Jisung pushes at Chan, who finally stops trying to kiss him. “Go away!”

“What the hell…” Chan growls, voice somehow deeper than usual. “What got into you, huh?”

“I missed having something that felt important in my life. I missed feeling like what I was doing mattered at all,” Jisung blurts out because it’s the truth. And he won’t be caught lying. “But I still hate what you’re doing to me and I want you to stop because the only thing that’s important to do is to know that you’re wrong.”

If the Lord is testing him, he can forgive his moment of weakness and see that Jisung sees the wrongs he’s done now. He’ll repent, but first, he must deny–

“Han Jisung,” Chan speaks quietly. He isn’t teasing, and this new tone, though unthreatening, with its unfamiliarity, frightens Jisung into silence.

Chan is standing a few steps away, panting, his eyes pinned on the mortal, who stares back, afraid.

“You cannot, and I mean really cannot tell me in a way that is true, that you actually hated that.”

Jisung shakes, and as strong as he wants to appear, the demon’s words hit someplace weak. Tears well up in his eyes, and he can’t think of anything to say. He just… slowly shakes his head as a form of rejection. He says nothing. Not even as his tears begin to fall. 

Chan watches him, always attentive to everything Jisung does, perhaps a lot more than the man even realizes. And in a move that appears (even to the terrified mortal) as gentle and unthreatening, he raises a hand and steps closer. Notwithstanding all the reasons to recoil, Jisung stays still. He lets the demon touch his face, to wipe the tears gently away. He doesn’t understand what Chan wants from him anymore.

“God is cruel,” Chan says, tone dark. Jisung, for the first time, has no idea what he’s talking about. “I have no defence for myself because I’m probably exactly as bad as you imagine me to be.” Chan laughs a little, but he quickly turns serious and… is he sad? “Still. If the one who’s supposed to be good has somehow allowed you to believe there is anything you do that isn’t important or doesn’t matter… then I wouldn’t want any of what you call ‘good’ anyway.”

Jisung stares, perplexed, as Chan drops his hand and with one last once-over, he steps away.

“Believe whatever you will. But if I were you, I’d have a bone to pick with God,” Chan says, then there’s a flash outside.

Jisung jumps high when the thunder strikes, the sound loud and slightly delayed. He turns towards the window in alarm, on instinct. He already knows that when he turns back, Chan will be gone. And sure enough, by the time the rumbles fade away, Jisung is alone in his room. Again.

The thunderstorm appears real, unlike the usual flashes of light Chan uses to appear and disappear, as the loud noises continue well into the night. Jisung listens to the low, raging sounds in the darkness, watching his ceiling light appear in the moments of brightness brought on by each lightning strike.

He wishes he could say the storm is what’s keeping him awake.

Chan cannot be right.

There is no way the demon is right . 

There is simply no way that God is wrong. How could he be? That’s like… the whole point, isn’t it? That he is, you know, everything good in the world? Love itself! But then…

Ah, it just makes no sense. It makes absolutely no sense and Jisung has had enough of wondering, so he gets up. He sits up and slides off his bed, debating for a moment if he should turn on his bedside lamp. But well, this needs no light and he doesn’t want to risk waking his parents. Any light in his room would be visible through their window. So he just silently moves to the side of his bed and kneels down next to it, smoothing his covers out with his hands. He takes a shaky breath. It’s… been a while.

When he feels ready, he puts his elbows on the bed and laces his fingers together. One last steadying breath, then he closes his eyes.

“Dear Heavenly Father,” he breathes, his mind swarming with thoughts still. It occurs to him that he ought to have gathered his thoughts beforehand, but he shakes that thought away. He can just play it by ear. It’s God, after all, he should forgive him for being a little all over the place. Speaking of forgiveness, excuse him but, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Jisung bites his lips to stop them from wobbling and squeezes his eyes closed to stop his tears. Instead, his words begin to flow.

“I have tried for… for so long. I tried so hard to be what everyone wanted me to be, what everyone says You want me to be. But they say you made me who I am…” Jisung thinks for a moment, his breath hitching. He tries not to cry as he asks his God, “Why did you set me up to fail from the start?”

“You teach me to love my neighbour, essentially everyone, but then your children, my neighbours, they tell me I cannot love the ones I want to.” Jisung shakes. His whole body trembles and it’s hardly because it’s cold in his room.

It’s the first time he’s ever admitted any of this to God, but more importantly, it’s the first time he’s admitting it to himself. 

“You make that… that forbidden fruit taste so sweet, then you punish us for wanting it. For taking it. Why did you make me—” Jisung cuts himself off.

The sudden fear that his parents might be awake, might hear his self-confession, strikes his heart. Paranoid, he opens his eyes and listens, for footsteps, for any sound coming from their room. But of course, it’s the middle of the night. They’re asleep. It’s fine.

Jisung does not stop shaking.

“Heavenly Father… I think you made a mistake with me,” he whispers into the night. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fix it. I… I’m not a god.”

He listens, perhaps expecting an answer. But there never is one. God never answers, not with words. And especially not to prayers.

“I guess it’s pointless to ask for a sign. You probably hate me for all that I’ve done. Is it pointless to ask for forgiveness, too? You forgive all who ask, but… But…” Jisung’s lips tremble now, a sob shaking his body. He pulls his hands apart and falls onto the bed, hiding his face in his arms. He cries soundlessly.

Because how can he ask God to forgive him, when he can’t even bring himself to regret what he had done?

Chapter Text

Chan is, after a very long existence spent for the longest time with routine and habit, unexpectedly experiencing something new. Going through some… realizations. Awakenings, if you will. 

Allow me to help you understand.

Chan, as a demon, feeds off Jisung’s desires and corruption both, though not in equal measure. To elaborate, while technically any sin Jisung commits under his temptation will sustain him, it just personally feels so much better to have that sin be Lust, specifically. Because as previously established, Chan likes being desired. 

Now, up until this point, Chan has never really paused to consider and unpack why that is. (Not to suggest he has started, but give him time. He’ll get there.) It’s not like he’s an incubus, he doesn’t feed off the sexual fantasies themselves. He needs his victims to actually commit the sins. And it could be any sin, for that matter.

(While we’re here let me mention that the absolute funniest brand of demon in my opinion is the one who’s chosen gluttony and just has like, three hungry, Christian college boys in his friend group at any given point in time. All he has to do is to treat them to a delicious all-you-can-eat restaurant and watch them as they unknowingly betray their God.)

But back to Chan, we must note that there is no reason given by his nature as a demon for him to want people to want him. But he does. He wants to be wanted so deeply, and the satisfaction comes through tenfold when he succeeds, compared to any other sin he could drive a mortal to commit.

And pleasure is pleasure, but it is beginning to dawn on Chan that physical pleasure isn’t all that makes the difference for him as he’d thought. He doesn’t just feel good because it feels good . No, maybe it runs deeper than that.

He knows there’s something else, he can feel it burn inside him softly when he kisses Jisung again. He feels a power, which courses through his veins in a slow trickle until it has reached every corner of his being, the power that he gains from Jisung’s sweet-innocent sin.

Still, underneath it all, there’s a turning, churning need within him, a need for more, a need to get something else, something more . Which isn’t entirely new to Chan. At first, he assumes he’s feeling his body seeking the pleasure he’s there for.

But when Jisung pushes him away and cuts off the power that was flowing between them, all of a sudden with faith reinforced… Well, at worst, what Chan should feel is disappointment. “Ah, dip, maybe next time,” should be his reaction. Just push some more, wait some more. Temptation is most effective when it is constant over time, after all.

Instead, the thing inside him roars, his blood boiling yet cold when Jisung moves out from his hold and pushes him away. When Jisung rejects him. 

Pretty, soft, nice Jisung. Sweet Jisung who had felt so… perfect, melting into his arms, against his lips, so intoxicating.

He rejected Chan.

And Chan felt something within him tear, something fragile, an ugly ragged tear running down its middle and leaving it in pieces.

The roaring pain he felt was echoing out in the sky and all he could think was that God was cruel.

He stayed and watched Jisung from the shadows because he always did. He’d been there all the time lately, every day if not every hour. Hidden, masked, out of sight, and out of mind. He needed to get to know Jisung better to really get to him, he reasoned.

It was no coincidence he showed up on a Saturday, I’m sure you have realized. 

Then, after everything that went down, he stayed and he reflected.

And he realized where his own desires truly lie, only when he had heard Jisung’s prayers. When the man said, “Your children, my neighbors, they tell me I cannot love the ones I want to,” that was when Chan came to the profound realization that there is a very simple reason why he prefers to tempt people to Lust and Desire more than anything. And it is not for the pleasure of the body.

Chan, more than anything, just wants to feel loved .

And Chan wonders… to be the one Jisung wanted to love, is that as impossible as it sounds? Is it okay for him to wish for it anyway?

When he finally left Jisung behind, it was to clear his mind. He’s never tried to make someone… fall in love with him? Getting into someone’s pants is much easier than wooing them, at least with Chan’s skillset. So he needs to just… Take a step back, regroup, and plan again. To change gears. Get a new angle.

…Okay, let’s be real, Chan has no idea what he is doing, he is like, three minutes into plotting his strategies, and like, he already feels like giving up. Perhaps he should just get Jisung to fuck him and then move on like he always does. That's never not worked before, right?

Except, as soon as he gets to thinking about the leaving part, he begins to feel that tear in his chest again.

Would… would there maybe be a way to come back? To maybe get in a round two later? Is there any way Jisung would let him come back? Just pop in and make out with him so Chan can have all the energy he needs for the next couple of months?

Chan blinks, staring unsteadily into the middle distance.

Well, yes. There is a way. So he better get back to plotting because he has to somehow get Jisung to actually like him.

And thus, Chan very anxiously gets to preparing to court someone for the first time in his existence.

Which is why he goes away again for a while. And by a while, I mean for five whole months. (You’d be surprised how busy a demon gets, from Christmas till Easter.) And as usual, there is just one thing to say about Chan going away: 

No, he didn’t.

He kept checking in on his mortal, despite the insurmountably plentiful bullshit he had to do for the higher-ups (lower-downs???). 

Hell has had him running after his own tail with errands out his ass, but he’s made sure to check in on his target to perhaps get inspiration for his next temptation, to see if Jisung is at all more likely to yield to his sway at any given time.

By the time Jisung actually sees him next, the seasons are turning from spring to summer slowly. The air is starting to turn warm in the evenings while still being chilly in the mornings. Sunlight itself looks warmer somehow around this time of year. Its glow is golden where it lands in the churchyard among the flowers, which have finally started to bloom after their long winter rest.

Jisung is standing by Hyunjin’s side. The two of them are watering the flower beds together. And Jisung is, well, lost in thought. Deep in thought. Hyunjin can tell, and he keeps sneaking glances at his friend, debating if he should ask.

Jisung is too distracted, his mind too full of thoughts of what had transpired above these very tulips a long time ago. Well, maybe not that long. But long enough that he feels like it had been a lifetime ago already.

He had made a deal with a demon. He’d done it and, miraculously enough, his soul had stayed intact.

A bee buzzes past him. He watches it go. It flies towards Hyunjin, who recoils away from it with a comical sound of horror. If only he knew all the kinds of things that try to attack poor church boys around here…

Jisung chuckles at his own thoughts, which has Hyunjin pouting, no doubt having assumed Jisung is laughing at his expense.

“It won’t harm you, it’s just a bee,” Jisung offers kindly, which probably comes off a lot like a teasing remark if Hyunjin’s defensive sputtering is anything to go by.

“It’s a thing of the devil, that’s what it is,” he says with a scowl, swatting the bee away. It buzzes on, unbothered, towards the flower bed further down along the fence.

“Uhm, those would be wasps, actually,” Jisung corrects his friend, who just shakes his head with an amused smile. Then, they each fall silent and resume work.

But in reality, both of their minds are racing, and nobody knows this better than our dearly beloved demon, listening from the shade of a tree behind them. If you and I didn’t know any better, we’d probably miss his presence entirely, as he blends in perfectly with the members of the parish who had come to the community building by the church to share some tea and stories in the late spring afternoon. The youth group members are the only ones being busy little bees, making their way through the gardens peacefully with their respective watering cans, in their respective areas of the garden. It’s routine, it's a habit. It’s peace.

Chan cannot stand it.

He is leaning against the bark of the tree behind him. It’s the smallest one in the garden and it doesn’t provide much protection from the bright rays of the sun, unlike the evergreen trees a little further away from Jisung and Hyunjin, who are talking quietly amongst themselves. The topic is something related to their education that Chan doesn’t quite care about. He didn’t pick this tree to be close enough to listen in on their conversation. He can do that from virtually anywhere in the churchyard, just by tuning in to either one of their thoughts. No, he’d chosen to lean up against this particular plant plainly for the hilarity of it. It’s the only apple tree in the garden.

He let himself be entertained by his own practical pun, an amusing analogy perhaps. Definitely some symbolism deserving of some snickering, at least. Either way, his own amusement aside, he is here for Jisung. Not to mess with him, not really. He was already being tormented well enough by simply the memories Chan had given the guy the last time they met here. Chan considers that part of his visit done and dusted.

No, he is here to just… observe. Watch.

Appreciate.

Sue him, he’s here for the same reason as all the religious folk who came out here. To enjoy the beauty of God’s creations on such a fine day…

Chan smiles to himself again, before his full attention is captured by Jisung again. The water stops pouring out of his can, slowing to barely a trickle. He turns to his friend, gesturing towards the garden tap by the community building, no doubt signaling that he’s going for a refill. Chan considers getting up and joining him while he’s away from the herd of the Shepherd, but Hyunjin, after a quick glance in his own watering can, walks along with him.

Chan supposes it’s alright. He’s not here to do anything just yet. He’ll join Jisung when the mortal calls for him. Chan does not doubt that soon, he will.

He doesn’t have to wait long. It’s a Sunday the next day, and Sundays have been consistently bad days for Jisung for the past couple of months.

Jisung prays every Sunday. He sometimes prays on other nights too, after bad days. But since every Sunday has been bad, he’s gotten relatively consistent with his schedule. Every Sunday night, Jisung kneels by the side of his bed and prays.

Well. Maybe ‘begs’ would be closer to the truth.

Every day when he feels wrong, feels wronged , feels… feels so much , Jisung waits until the house is quiet, the world is dark, and he slips out from under his covers. Lets his knees scrape against the wooden floor and puts his own hands tightly together, fingers interlocked, squeezing until it hurts as he hisses out his broken, record-player prayer.

"Dear Heavenly Father. Send me to hell for I cannot love what you've created."

Himself.

Chan listens to the prayer he knows by heart, though in pieces it may be from it. He prays too, adding his own supplemental thoughts to Jisung’s own.

“Send him down and I’ll make sure the whole world knows their God has committed such a sin.”

It’s routine. It's a habit.

And Chan absolutely despises it.

It’s May, and it has been bad day after bad day after bad day. Chan watches from the shadows as Jisung slips out from under his duvet, his knees hitting the parquet wood with a light thud. 

But he doesn’t pray. He just kneels there, hands in his lap, staring out into the darkness. Numb. Unsure. Dull. Waiting.

“What’s the point?” Jisung whispers. He stays on the floor for a minute, then gets up. He goes to the bathroom. 

Chan is left staring, dumbfounded, first at the door frame he’s disappeared out through, then at the place by the bed where he usually would be around this time.

Jisung broke his routine.

He broke his routine, his ritual, his own perfectly regulated and constantly repeated cycle. Not only did he break the habit, he’d abandoned it completely.

Now, look, Chan is in the business of building and breaking habits for people, so he knows how they work. There is always, first, a cue. For Jisung, this comes in the form of bad days, which bring about the second part: the craving. A craving for a solution, some form of relief. That, is the last part. The reward. The thing you crave and perform your habit to obtain. For Jisung, this is something akin to peace. The peace of mind one feels when, despite his suffering, at least his pain is being witnessed .

But the key part of the habit, the habitual action itself is a response to the craving, through which one obtains the reward. For Jisung, this action is his prayer. The sense of control he feels over his own fate, his own soul, by forcing God to see him at his most miserable.

To not have that response despite the craving can mean one of two things.

One, the response is no longer bringing about the reward. Or two, he has found a different response that brings a different, more satisfying reward.

Perhaps even both.

Perhaps the prayers have felt too much like talking to a wall. Perhaps his faith has weakened and he no longer trusts the silence to mean a God is listening.

Either way, the fact of the matter is that Jisung didn’t say his prayer. Or any prayer, for that matter. And people don’t just do that. With such a strong habit, you can’t just flip a switch and start ignoring your craving once the cue comes. That’s just not how this works! So the logical conclusion Chan comes to is that, once he had discovered his prayers wouldn’t work, Jisung must have found another way to get the same sort of peace of mind. To put an end to his suffering, and regain his sense of control over his own fate, his own soul.

Chan’s entire being fills with dread when another minute passes and Jisung still hasn’t returned from the bathroom.

“Chan…” he hears Jisung’s voice whisper. It makes his body tremble violently, a shiver striking him like lightning.

Jisung’s just called his name. Jisung is summoning him.

Chan steps out of a shadow in the corner of the bathroom almost instantly, watching Jisung in the darkness. He hadn’t even bothered to turn the light on. Or perhaps he’s just being careful to avoid waking his parents, to avoid being discovered by anyone other than the demon. 

He’s holding something, something Chan can’t quite make out in the dark well enough to know what it is. But based on the way Jisung is trembling with his fist curled tightly around it, he guesses it’s something sharp.

"Chan?" Jisung whispers, terrified.

"I'm here, Little One," Chan assures him quietly. Then, because he feels Jisung ought to calm down somewhat, he adds, "Unless you know someone else who can jump out of the shadows when you call out like that."

"What do I do?" Jisung asks, and Chan needs a moment to realize what he's asking.

Oh, no. Oh, hell no. That is everything Chan does not stand for.

"Well, Little One, depends on what you want to do," he says, taking slow steps towards Jisung, who has his head down, eyes pinned on the floor. Or perhaps the thing in his shaking hand. Chan cannot tell from the angle.

"I..." Jisung is crying. Chan has become intimately familiar with the shape of Jisung quietly sobbing in the dark. "I want to make eh–it go away. I... I'm not–I can't live like this, I'm not strong enough..."

"Oh, baby," Chan coos. He lifts Jisung's head by the chin. He's close enough that he knows Jisung can see his eyes, even in the faint light that they have around them. "This is not how you do that."

Jisung frowns, and Chan can feel his objections bubbling up in him, ready to be spilled and argued but he doesn't care. Not when beneath it all, he can tell that Jisung feels relieved.

"It may surprise you given that I am what I am," Chan says, flashing his eyes red to emphasize his point. "But I very much want you to keep living on as you are. And don't try to pretend that isn't what you really, truly wanted to hear."

Chan touches the back of Jisung's hand, his fingertips ghosting over the skin. "Let's put this down, okay?” he prompts.

Jisung relaxes his hand, letting Chan take the blade from him. Once it’s been placed carefully on the sink, the demon takes both of Jisung’s hands into his own.

To his surprise, Jisung tears his hands away. Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise on its own. That he, instead, surges towards the demon and hugs him tight, is shocking. Chan recovers swiftly, placing his arms around the young man. He moves one hand to pet Jisung’s hair to offer some comfort. There are words spoken, muffled against his chest, but Chan smiles anyway. He could hear Jisung’s words loud and clear as if he were yelling them on a hilltop.

“You came.”

“You called. Would have been rude to leave you hanging,” he answers simply. The demon will take any chance to one-up God.

Jisung doesn’t answer, but he also doesn’t let go. Chan doesn’t need him to.

“I have a question for you to consider,” Chan says, and when he gets no objections, he continues. “If you can’t keep living like this, then… why not try living differently?”

“I tried ,” Jisung whines. “But I can’t, I can’t change. I tried, trust me, I tried to be—”

“Someone you’re not, and that didn’t work out, right?” Chan moves both hands to hold Jisung’s face and guide him until they’re eye-to-eye, at least literally speaking. “That isn’t what I mean though. Have you considered living as you are, but living differently in the sense that you stop feeling guilty about it? And you just… let yourself be who you are?”

“You say that like it’s so easy,” Jisung sniffs, looking to the side to not have to meet Chan’s gaze. But Chan moves, following him, not letting Jisung escape.

“You say that as if you have ever tried,” he argues. “Come on, Jisung… You can’t honestly tell me you’ve ever done anything God wouldn’t approve of and let yourself feel good about it.”

Jisung sucks his lips between his teeth nervously. He doesn’t interrupt.

“I know you already feel tired of living with this fucked up leash of rules that try to tell you not just what to do and not do, but even who to be. Don’t you dream of freedom? Don’t you want something better?” Chan takes a step back to let Jisung have some space. People sometimes need that, to consider such big things. “Don’t you feel just a little angry? Done? Aren’t you in any way mad that you’ve been made a runner against your will, in a race that you just can’t win?”

Jisung watches him talk intently, listening (perhaps for the first time) to everything Chan is saying. He is taking it all in.

“Don’t you want to get back at God? Just a little bit? Haven’t you realized that if he made you be like this, and that if he doesn’t want you to be like this, then the best way to mess with his great big plan is to live as you are and be happy?”

Chan takes a breath to calm down. He can’t let himself get worked up over this, not again.

“Why don’t you just do one thing and let yourself get away with it?” he asks finally, letting silence do the rest of the work for him. His plans are quickly foiled when Jisung gives an absent chuckle and breaks the silence.

“I did,” he swallows. “I made a deal with you, didn’t I?”

Chan stares, stunned. His lips pull into a smile without him noticing, and when he catches on, he concedes. “You did, yes. A fun little trick you pulled there, I must say.” He crosses his arms.

Jisung smiles, a little laugh bubbling out from his chest. He rubs at his eyes to wipe old tears. Chan thinks that, though the outlines in the dark are quite similar, he much prefers this to the sight of Jisung crying.

“I kissed you, too. Right there, on holy ground,” Jisung giggles. He must be tired.

“Are you saying you enjoyed kissing me?” Chan asks, tentative yet teasing.

“God, I should not have,” Jisung says with a wide grin, looking near delirious. “But I think I’m beginning to understand what you mean.”

Oh, you don’t know how right you are, Chan thinks. Because now, he notices, nectar-sweet warmth begins to simmer in the demon’s chest. It’s honey, it’s liquid gold, and it is oh-so pure.

Jisung’s expression has changed, and his eyes are staring at the demon with determination. It burns just as resiliently as the simmering sweet sin slowly coursing through Chan’s veins. Jisung’s faith is corroding before his eyes and Chan has never seen or felt anything quite so spectacular.

Nothing compares to the way Jisung takes a step towards him, contemplative as he talks.

"There, in the garden... I could trick you. I felt like I was really smart for just a split second. I mean, I played a game with a demon who was half inside my head and I won. Because I got away with a small deception," Jisung recounts, coming to stand right in front of the demon. He raises a hand and traces the line of Chan's jaw with shy, wandering fingers. The demon closes his eyes for just a moment, enjoying the glowing hum of feeling he gets as Jisung lets himself, for the first time, want him. He quickly blinks them open again, though, not wanting to miss a second. 

"So I'm thinking, since God has dealt me a losing hand..." Jisung stares into Chan's eyes, and the demon feels something else, something new. "All I gotta do is pull off another little bluff till I win."

Oh, Chan wants him. Not just his faith, not the power he gives. Not even his body or just his affection.

He wants everything .

"Damn, baby..." Chan snakes his arms around the other's waist, pulling him close and leaning in. "Not strong, my ass... This is a fun trick to try and play on God."

"Not trying," Jisung says definitively, his hands circling back around Chan's neck. “Doing.”

Jisung meets Chan halfway, and for the first time, he kisses the demon.

Chan revels in it, dizzy from the surge of emotion and the buzz of power he feels as Jisung gives in to… well, himself. Because he can’t even say he’s giving in to Chan anymore, can he?

After a long, long moment though, Jisung begins to squirm. Chan pulls back to give him space, but Jisung doesn’t let go, just speaks.

“Make it go away?” he asks, confusing the hell out of the demon.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, darling. I know you won’t believe me, but I'm not actually a mind-reader.”

Jisung giggles. A good sign. Also, absolutely endearing.

“I just… never mind.”

“You want me to stop?” Chan asks before he realizes what he’s doing. He blinks a few times to process what has just come out of his mouth.

“I don’t—I don’t know what I want,” Jisung says, but if the warm swirl of power Chan feels at his words is any indication, that’s a lie.

“No, I think you know exactly what you want,” Chan thinks aloud, but doesn’t make any attempt to invade Jisung’s mind to find out. He has better ideas. He kisses Jisung again, satisfied when the human lets him. “What can I do for you, darling?” he asks against his lips.

“Cah–Call me… that again,” Jisung stumbles over his own words, still ashamed.

“Darling?” Chan smiles, kissing down along Jisung’s jawline, nosing at his cheek.

“N-no… The um, the other—The other one…” Jisung hiccups out, struggling to keep in the noises that threaten to escape him at Chan’s ministrations.

The other one? Which— Oh.

“Anything you want, baby.” Chan complies, grinning against the wet skin of his neck when Jisung gasps.

"I–I wanna–ah…" Jisung's voice falters, words trailing off into a whine when Chan gently sucks at a spot right below his jaw.

"Yeah?" Chan nudges a little, both with words and his nose against the human's face.

"I want to stop feeling guilty..." Jisung whispers, like a confession.

Chan slows what he's doing all the way to a halt, pulling back to look at the mortal.

"Do you? Feel guilty?"

Jisung bites his lips, then weakly, faintly, he nods.

"A little."

Which, if Chan knows Jisung at all, and he does, means “yes, very much so”.

"Do you mean that like a 'right now this very second' or a 'from now till forever' kinda way?" the demon asks, just to clarify.

"I'd sell my soul to never have to feel this way again, right here right now." Jisung looks away. "So I guess both?"

"You certainly could, but it doesn't take that much, you know,” Chan says. Like the terrible demon he is. Gosh, he's gonna be the laughingstock of all of Hell at this rate, turning down souls like that.

"Then... then what?" Jisung asks, and gosh, Chan hates how desperate he is. Because, with the way this is playing out, Jisung is actually about to be a better demon than him . Because looking at him like that, talking to him like that, making Chan want him like that… He’s definitely doing the whole temptation thing right.

"When did you stop being so scared of me, huh?" he blurts out, because honestly, Jisung is being unfair , and Chan feels like his control of the situation is compromised. So he makes a desperate attempt to regain it.

"Probably when you started taking care of me," Jisung says and smiles weakly, unsure if the question is rhetorical.

Chan blinks. Jisung's smile fades, and he blinks back. Then he almost smiles again, but holds it back this time.

"Was I not supposed to realize you were there?"

Oh. Oh, no...

"When was I where?"

"Oh, you're not doing this again. I was awake this time, I know you were there for real, I did not dream—"

" When? "

"After the movie thing? You know. After the horror movie marathon thing that my friends dragged me to?" Jisung says, and Chan doesn't press any further. It’s bad enough that Jisung knows he was there that time, and it’s even worse to have him say any of it out loud.

Because yes, he had been there. When Jisung’s buddies from church decided to have a week-long marathon of classic horror flicks, leaving Jisung to come home every day with nightmare fuel in his head, Chan may or may not have stopped by each night to… well, you know. Distract him.

Never appeared, because the last thing he needed was to be known as the demon who gives people sweet thoughts which no horror movie trauma can break through. Not to mention, he did it out of the goodness of his own heart. He was there, making sure Jisung’s thoughts were kept in check.

“You were totally hiding. You definitely thought I wouldn’t realize,” Jisung giggles, and Chan wants to scold him. He would have, too, but sadly… he got interrupted.

"Jisung?" There are steps approaching the bathroom door. Jisung has about two seconds to prepare himself before his mother is opening the door, looking at him with puzzlement. "What are you doing? It's four in the morning... Who were you talking to?"

"Nobody." Jisung shakes his head, his voice about an octave higher than usual. "I was just going back to my room actually."

"Were you crying?" his mother asks, growing concerned.

"Uh." Jisung glances at his reflection in the mirror, and decides it would be stupid to deny the obvious. "Gosh... um. I know it's stupid, I'm sorry, please don't worry, I was just... I had a nightmare. It's stupid, it's nothing." He waves, hoping his mother would take all his embarrassment to be caused by the embarrassing source he gave for his emotions.

"Are you okay?" his mother asks.

When Jisung nods, she nods as well, clearly still very tired. She must have just woken up. "Alright. Please go back and sleep now. You have school tomorrow."

"I know, I will. I'm going now," he says, moving to follow his mother outside, to show he really is going.

Once he is back in his room and hears the door to the other bedroom close, Jisung whispers into the darkness.

"Chan..?"

"She's right, you know. About school." Chan's voice is quiet and near, but he can't see him.

"Wow." Jisung exhales sharply through his nose. "Are you sure you're not a guardian angel?"

“Don’t insult me.” Jisung giggles, until Chan threatens to wake up his parents. “Being late up on a school night will be the least of their worries if they hear you screaming my–”

“Goodnight, Chan.”

Chapter Text

Han Jisung has made progress. He has been thinking. Capital T, Thinking. The next time he goes to a youth group meeting after his last chat with Chan, which is on a Wednesday, he feels… bad. At first, he feels awful with all the talk about how God loves them and wants them to succeed and has all these great plans for lives that will be great for them. About how God has all these plans to use them well and how God, God, God…

Well, let’s just say he feels miserable that day.

And then he realizes, he has done the worst thing possible. He’s opened his heart to the devil and let it turn his face away from God's light… Because as he is sitting with his fellow church lads, he is thinking of Chan. About how the demon has shown more care for him in the past two years than God has done, ever, in the entirety of his life. 

He feels guilty and can feel his heart breaking. He is drowning in shame.

And he wants to just… be swallowed by the ground. Because in his heart, he knows the feelings would not change. He knows that no matter what he thinks and does, he’ll still feel more trust toward his demon than his God. Because God has abandoned him.

Chan found him.

He sits quietly while the others argue over some passage in the Bible, and how it relates to their daily lives. And he thinks.

He cannot let himself be miserable just because God wishes it so. If God’s great big plan for him was to suffer, then he wants no part of it.

Chan’s right. He can, and he will get back at God. He’ll be happy despite what God and his church have set him up for.

He’s a little impostor, invading God’s house, mingling among His children. If everyone is a child of God, then Jisung is surely an unfortunate bastard, but God be damned, he’ll still be the one who inherits the fortune in the end if he gets any say in the matter.

He will be who he is, just as God made him. And if God has a problem with that, he can take it up with himself.

Jisung sits more comfortably and a lot more confidently in his seat after these thoughts settle in him. 

He also comes to a decision.

The next Friday afternoon, when Felix and Hyunjin are on dishwashing duty for the community building’s tea house, he volunteers to help them. The three of them are washing all the mugs and teapots. Well, Hyunjin and Jisung are. Felix is sorting through the cabinets of the small kitchen to create some sort of order after the last community event. There's sugar where lemon juice ought to be and the boxes of green tea have been put where the Earl Grays tend to be, and Felix decided this was unacceptable.

Still, it’s just the three of them, stuffed into the tight little space they generously refer to as a kitchen. And they’re having friendly conversations, cracking jokes as always, with intermittent moments of silent work.

It’s nice, Jisung thinks. Felix and Hyunjin are the two guys in his church group he actually considers his friends.

It is during one of those silent moments that Jisung clears his throat.

“Guys?” He has absolutely no clue how to do this. He wants to. He has to, he knows that much. But how?

“Yeah?” Hyunjin looks up from the foamy water, at Jisung.

“What’s up?” Felix looks over his shoulder too, but neither of them stops what they’re doing. Hyunjin keeps scrubbing at the cup in his hands, and Felix keeps carefully organizing the tea boxes into neat stacks, grouped by flavor and type, ordered by color.

“I just… I dunno, I just wanted to say…” Jisung swallows, his thoughts running laps at unprecedented speeds. He can hear his heart beating out of his chest, and he can only hope that his face isn’t as red as it is warm. How the hell does he say it? Is there any sort of leadup to provide to this? No, he shouldn’t stall any longer. He’s just gotta say it. Fuck, he’s silent, the seconds are ticking by, and he knows his friends are waiting for him to speak and he’s just standing here silently, breathing heavily, and they’re definitely growing concerned. He should just say it. Say it, god damn it, say it! Say it, say it, say it! Come on!

“I’m gay.”

Jisung exhales. His hands are shaking. Now the others have stopped what they’ve been doing. He can see them both from his peripherals, staring at him. Shocked.

Yeah. That’s an appropriate reaction, Jisung supposes. So is the deafening sound of his own hammering heart. God, he’s starting to feel nauseous, too…

“You’re…” Hyunjin begins, being the first to recover. Though maybe recover is a strong word, as he’s still standing in a stunned stupor, mouth hanging agape. When Jisung glances at him and meets his eyes, he realizes it and shuts it fast enough to make his teeth click. He blinks at Jisung, his eyes flickering across his face as if there’s anything on there for him to see and confirm whether Jisung had said the truth.

“Wait, for real?” Felix asks, crossing the two-step gap between him and the other two boys. He places a gentle hand on Jisung’s shoulder to turn the boy to face him.

Jisung feels naked when he meets his friend’s eyes. They’re wide and his expression is that of pure surprise, so Jisung doesn’t know… He doesn’t know if he’s lost his friends or not.

“You’re gay?” Hyunjin blurts out, then falls silent again. Jisung looks over at him, too, and Hyunjin is waiting, wanting his confirmation. Jisung gives a shy, weak nod at first, then a more confident one.

He looks back at Felix, who seems to have regained his composure, and his expression has softened. Then, to Jisung’s relief, he smiles. Grins, more like.

“That’s totally cool man,” Felix claps him on the shoulder, his grin growing wider still. “I respect that.” He nods in approval and Jisung wants to throw up.

Or cry.

Maybe both.

There's a small noise behind them, and it's Hyunjin taking an audible breath. And just as the others turn back to face him, with a shaking voice, he very quietly says, "Me too."

The two boys' eyes widen at the same time.

"I'm... I'm gay too."

Hyunjin stares at Jisung, and somehow he knows Hyunjin is feeling the same thing he is. He is seeing the same thing Jisung sees.

He looks at Hyunjin like he's seeing him for the first time, and in his eyes he sees recognition. Jisung watches his friend transform before him. It's not that he's changing, not really. But as Jisung recalls all their memories together, all the times he'd spent with his friend... He begins to see him now, as he is, as he has always been. Cast in a new light, one that reflects his truth, Hyunjin suddenly looks…

Real.

Jisung is not sure which happens first, him taking a step or Hyunjin raising his arms, but he reckons it doesn't matter. He hugs his friend tight and thinks of how much he's missed out on. He never knew his friend the way he thought he did. He knew something else. A lie. The same lie he’s lived and gotten tired of.

The one he is holding now is real. It’s Hyunjin. For real.

Jisung wonders if this makes his friend as happy as it makes him.

“You guys, don’t leave me out,” Felix whines, making Hyunjin and Jisung laugh out loud. He hugs the two of them too. Hyunjin lifts his arm to put it over his shoulders. Jisung wants to cry.

And when he meets Hyunjin’s eyes and sees his lips wobble, he does cry. They both do, laughing at themselves at the same time.

“You guys…” Felix whines again, tearing up with them. “Jesus…”

“Don’t say his name in vain,” Hyunjin reprimands him between his laughs/sobs, wiping at his eyes. 

They all burst out laughing, and they keep cracking up without really any prompt other than looking at each other as they calm down, wiping their faces. They don’t get back to work until much later, by which time the dishes on the rack are already dry. But eventually, they get back to their chores and talk. They talk, the whole way through. They ask questions, especially Felix. And if Jisung and Hyunjin don’t say “Gosh, me too,” about a billion times, then they haven’t said it at all.

When they’re all done, they still keep talking, though much quieter. They try to speak as inconspicuously as they can as they make their way to the bus stop. Felix gets picked up by his brother as usual. But this time when he says bye, he pulls the two of them into another quick group hug.

“Love you guys,” he says quickly. He gets into the car without leaving the two friends time to respond. His ears are bright red and he keeps his eyes trained on where he’s stepping. 

Hyunjin and Jisung watch him go, speechless. They watch the car pull out of the bus stop and drive away, and Jisung wonders if Hyunjin is thinking the same thing he is.

They have a really awesome friend.

“Is it just me,” Jisung breaks the stunned silence Felix’s confession left them in. “Or is Felix like, the sweetest person on Earth? Like, am I tripping, or what?”

Hyunjin snorts and shakes his head. “Nah, you’re pretty much bang on the money. He’s super sweet,” he agrees, though his tone is somehow… weird.

It takes Jisung a moment to figure out why.

“Hold on. Do you…” He gestures in the direction the Lees’ car had driven off, the corners of his lips tugging up into a teasing smile. “ Felix? ” Hyunjin makes a face, averting his eyes. “Dude.”

“I’m–” Hyunjin covers his face with his hands, muffling a whine. “No? Maybe? I don’t know…”

Jisung watches him with sympathy. He gets it. You don’t exactly think about whether or not you like someone when you’re trying to convince yourself you don’t.

“Nah, it’s cool. If you do, it’s cool,” he says, patting Hyunjinn on the back. “You’ve got time to figure it out.”

Hyunjin lets his hands fall to his sides, only to give Jisung a look of agony. “But he’s not like…” Hyunjin pauses, looking at Jisung. Then, clearly failing to hide a smile, he looks away. “Like us.”

“Psssh,” Jisung sputters, pocketing his hands and turning to watch the cars on the road pass by. “Come on. Between you and me, I would expect Felix to be like us more than I’d expect myself. And I know about myself,” he says, smiling. Because frankly, he cannot stop smiling.

“But… he didn’t—”

“Yet.” Jisung turns to meet eyes with Hyunjin briefly before looking out at the road again. “We both know this takes time. Even after you know. Right?”

“Too right…” Hyunjin nods and begins to watch the cars too.

They stand side by side, waiting for the bus. It comes after a few more minutes. Well, Jisung’s bus comes, anyway. Hyunjin takes a different one. They say goodbye with one last hug, and Jisung gets on the bus.

He gets a window seat and waves at Hyunjin with a smile. Hyunjin looks like he just remembered something, and pulls out his phone. He points at it, just as the bus begins to pull out of its stop. Jisung gets what he means.

‘What’s up?’ He texts Hyunjin just as a message comes through from him.

‘Do you?’ it reads.

Jisung is about to reply with a generous serving of question marks when another message pops up.

‘Like anyone?’

Jisung inhales slowly. And regrettably, as soon as the question is asked, he sees a face in his mind, hears a voice in his head, a teasing smirk, and a sly remark, and he recalls the way the soft wet lips felt against his own.

‘Figuring it out,’ he sends back. ‘Not anyone you know tho…’

He receives a flurry of shocked little emojis and a lengthy keyboard smash, with an enthusiastic ‘Keep me updated!!!’ and he can’t help but smile.

Gosh, he feels like a teenager. Despite being one, that’s a first. Though, his parents love reminding him that he isn’t a child anymore. Still… Legal adult or not, he wants to cling to this moment and appreciate his own youth in a strangely and comfortingly self-aware manner. So he looks out the bus window and does nothing but think about how lucky he is until he gets home.

When he enters his house, dinner is on the table and his mom is waiting for him.

“Call your dad to the table, will you?" she asks with an easy smile and Jisung complies.

Their family eats together comfortably, chatting about various things, like how his brother has just got a promotion and they should invite him for dinner to celebrate. Jisung doubts his brother would have the time to come home, but it is a nice sentiment. His parents ask Jisung about how the youth group activities went, and he says they went great. He tells them he talked a whole lot with his closest friends, which was fun as always.

“Who are these friends?” his mom asks, contemplative. “Is it that young Lee boy? Do you still talk to him?”

Jisung nods. “Felix. And Hyunjin, too. Hwang.”

“Oh, I know his mother,” she nods. “They’re lovely people, that family. And the Lees are quite nice. You know, me and Mrs. Lee used to take you and Felix on walks together when you were both still in strollers. We met at the hospital, her and I. You were born so close to each other, so we ended up in the same room again and again. Even when we got to take you home, we kept in touch. Though I haven’t talked to her in some time… Maybe I should ask her to meet up again. But she’s a great friend, you know. I’m glad you and Felix still get along.”

“I know, Mom,” Jisung says, smiling. “You’ve told me, I remember. And yeah, we still talk,” he answers her earlier question.

After his dinner, he runs upstairs to do his schoolwork, feeling oddly motivated. It still takes him way longer than it should, but he feels his distraction is justified.

‘I think my mother is like growing concerned, I keep grinning like a mad man lmao,’ Hyunjin texts him, and Jisung, well, he grins.

‘I am hiding in my room where I can grin to my heart's content ✌️’

‘Man… I can’t believe you were Right There. This whole time!’

‘To be honest, the fact that you didn’t realize is a relief. I’m blending in.’

‘Top notch secret agents.’

‘God sees all but man his followers are blind huh’

‘Omg… hannie…’

‘What’

‘We are undercover secret GAYgents!!'

Jisung snorts, loudly, typing a keyboard smash in caps lock to send back, when the message Hyunjin last sent disappears.

‘??’ is all he sends instead.

‘Remembered my mother can unlock my phone,’ Hyunjin explains. ‘Not like I expect her to be snooping through my texts, but I’m paranoid :((‘

‘Damn… bummer. It was a pretty good joke though.’

‘Thanks :)))’

Jisung continues texting Hyunjin while he does his homework, and when his father knocks on the door to tell him it’s his turn in the bathroom, he only jumps out of his skin halfway.

Hyunjin’s right. Paranoia is a bitch.

Once he gets back to his room, he sends Hyunjin a goodnight text.

‘Hey wait actually,’ comes through immediately.

Jisung waits. He climbs under his covers but keeps watch of his phone screen, which is the last thing illuminating his room.

‘I guess I just wanted to say thank you,’ Hyunjin texts him right as he gets comfortable. ‘For being so brave… I know I wouldn’t have been if you didn’t say anything, so… you know. Thank you.’

Jisung smiles. He thinks of what to text back. He hears a noise, cutting all thoughts in his head short. It came from the corner of his room, making him look up. He sees his school bag there, fallen over. That must have been the sound, then. He looks back at his phone and begins typing his response.

‘I’m honestly really glad I did, otherwise how would we have known, right?’

‘Yeah :)))’ Hyunjin sends one last message. ‘Alright I will let you sleep now though skskssksksk,,, goodnight!!’

Jisung smiles fondly and types a final goodnight. He takes a second to contemplate attaching a smiley to the end of the text before he hits send.

“Who’s got you smiling at your phone like that, then?” comes a familiar voice from the corner of his room, making Jisung’s heart stop. He almost screams in shock, but his guest is quick to catch on. In a flash, Chan is in front of him, his hand pressed over Jisung’s mouth. “Shhhh,” he shushes, the sound morphing into an amused chuckle. “Hardly an axe murderer, am I?”

Jisung flails and swats at Chan, who compliantly backs off, though only to sit on the edge of the man’s bed.

“What the Hell —” Jisung hisses, but cuts himself off before he makes an unintentional pun. “What are you doing here?” he whispers urgently.

“Is it so hard to think I’ve missed you?” Chan asks, flirtatious as always. Jisung rolls his eyes. He also remembers Hyunjin exists, so he unlocks his phone and sends the message he’s failed to finish. He just skips the smiley and hits send, then locks his phone and tosses it aside onto his bedside table.

He comes to regret this quite quickly. The room is dark, very dark. He stares into the shadows and tries to make out where in the dark shape opposite him Chan’s eyes are supposed to be, to look into them.

As if aware of his efforts, Chan’s eyes begin to glow faintly red in the darkness, and Jisung swallows. Such a sight should be… threatening. Scary. Terrifying.

Instead, it feels familiar. And Jisung swallows, because the sight of it makes his stomach do a single, impressive backflip. The red disappears, sight replaced by sound, the sound of rustling fabrics. The dark outlines of the demon grow bigger as he gets closer.

“The real question is, though…” Chan says quietly, his voice a deep rumble, deep enough that it resembles a growl. Or rather, a purr. “Did you miss me ?”

Jisung breathes heavily. He can’t see in the dark, but he feels something happening. He doesn’t quite realize what it is until the backs of Chan’s fingers graze his cheeks. He sucks in a breath, gasping audibly. He hears Chan chuckle.

“I could feel you doing all sorts of wrongs today,” Chan whispers. “Anything I should be proud of?”

Jisung gets goosebumps at the touch and feels them dance across his skin, running down along his arms. He sighs, trying to regain his composure. He raises his own hand and wraps it around the demon’s wrist to move it away from himself.

“I don’t need your pride,” Jisung bites back, shoving Chan away again weakly, more playful than anything.

“Sure,” Chan hums, his voice still too close for comfort. “How about your own then?”

Jisung blinks, caught off guard by the genuine tone.

“I… I mean…”

“Very brave, what you did,” Chan comments. So he does know. He’s still just playing his game of making Jisung say things out loud. “Are you feeling guilty at all?”

Jisung knows the answer, but he takes a moment to consider the demon’s question anyway. He doesn’t change his mind.

“No,” he states firmly. “Not at all.”

“That’s my boy,” Chan murmurs, his voice coming from even closer now. He must have leaned in, Jisung thinks, and he’d be correct. The next moment Chan’s nose bumps against his.

His boy. Oh, Jisung’s head is spinning, the words sending him spiraling down towards what must be madness. Because surely, he’d have to be mad to kiss the demon again. But he is so close and Jisung wants to.

“Yours?” Jisung whispers weakly, only realizing he’s spoken out loud after the fact. Chan huffs and there's a shuffling movement above him again. The demon throws a knee over his legs, moving to hover over Jisung. Then there are hands framing his face on either side, angling his face upwards.

“All mine,” Chan affirms before closing the remaining distance between them.

Jisung’s eyes flutter shut. His mind buzzes faintly with each drag of Chan’s lips against his. He lets out a small sound. It’s high-pitched and—

“Needy, are we?” Chan says against his cheeks, moving to kiss down along his face, jaw, neck.

“I’m–Wait,” Jisung says quickly, grabbing onto the demon’s wrists for support and attention. “I...I can’t–”

“Han Jisung, you’re going to drive me up a wall,” Chan growls, but he pulls back. The bedside lamp flickers on, no doubt the demon’s doing. He’s looking down at the mortal man under him. “What now?”

Jisung looks up at him, thinking. “I can’t… do this.”

Chan raises his eyebrows. “And what is ‘this’, exactly? Please, enlighten me, I’d love to know what you mean.”

“Just… this,” Jisung says, gesturing between them. “I was thinking about this, and like… I mean, the whole, um, liking men thing is like… That’s one thing, but you—You’re a demon. ”

Chan’s mouth opens and closes, and he says nothing. He just stares down at Jisung, and if he didn't know any better, he’d think the demon looks… Hurt. He closes his eyes and turns away, holding back emotions. Jisung is starting to feel like he shouldn’t have said—

“That never stopped you before,” Chan points out, his eyes opening again, his gaze ablaze in a crimson light when he meets Jisung’s eyes again. 

“Yeah, well... Maybe it should have.”

Chan frowns. Anger flashes across his features, but only for a moment. Because in the next, the room goes dark again. The light turns off, and the weight on the bed disappears. The demon is gone.

Jisung’s heart hammers against his ribs. It was a trick of the light, he must have imagined it. Because surely, there is no way that just before he disappeared, Chan’s lips wobbled. 

He’s a demon. There’s no way Jisung could have made him… cry . Right?

“I’m sorry…” he whispers to the darkness. He’s not sure if there’s anyone listening. “But I don’t want to belong to you.”

Chapter Text

Han Jisung has his mind full, painfully so. Though perhaps it isn’t hurting because it is full, but rather because it is full of painful thoughts. Because he’d been thinking, and—

He actually allowed himself to think about it. And he realized that Chan is a demon, and… well, the longer he thought about it, the clearer it was that he, well, you know… He likes Chan. Or at the very least, he has started to like Chan. And that—He’s a demon . And moral implications aside, Jisung simply cannot allow himself to like a demon. And not because he’s a demon, it’s just—Okay, look. 

The point is, he is a demon which means he isn’t exactly looking to date Jisung, now, is he? He’s not about to shower him with affection, take him on dates, and… 

So he can’t. He cannot let himself fall in love with a demon because that’s just setting himself up for disaster and pain and suffering and well, can you blame him?

He cannot give in to Chan’s temptations no matter what, because… because he can’t. No matter how badly he wants it, no matter how much it burns to feel the phantom touch on his skin, no matter the nauseating intensity with which he craves just one more kiss… He cannot. Because that will definitely hurt a whole lot more than just denying himself the pleasure.

It’s summer. It’s 2 PM and it’s crazy warm outside. He went for a run in the morning, but still, his mind is full, and Jisung cannot think of anything else he can do to clear his mind.

To let some thoughts out and fresh air in, he opens up a window. He wants… He’d just like to get the mess in his head out, in order to see the path forward. He feels like the solution to his every problem is right there in his mind, and chances are, it’s the very thing he’s avoiding. 

An idea comes as if it were a spark of divine inspiration. He leaves his room and walks to the study. He knocks, waiting for his parents to call out an invitation.

“Can I call a friend over?” he asks his mother when she looks up from her laptop. 

“Who?” She smiles at him. Father looks up at them from the exam papers he is grading.

“Hyunjin.”

“Oh, sure,” Mother shrugs. “Will you guys need anything?”

“Nah, we’ll be okay.” Jisung shakes his head, already pulling the door shut. “Thanks!”

“Anytime!” Mother calls out, though Jisung knows it’s just a turn of phrase, and he should ask next time as well.

He sends a text to his friend, who responds in a matter of minutes.

‘omw. your ac still busted?’

‘My room is the seventh circle of hell at the moment.’

‘got it. I’m bringing ice cream.’

‘:0 <3’

When Hyunjin shows up at his doorstep with two Magnums in his hand and offers one to Jisung, he almost cries. Almost.

They walk up to Jisung’s room quietly, knowing better than to go greet his parents. They will come to say hi once they're not busy. They’ve done this enough times to know how this goes.

“So, besides wanting company in your hellfire,” Hyunjin says, falling ass-first into Jisung’s chair, making it roll to the side with the momentum. “What’s up?”

Jisung huffs out a silent laugh, staring out his window. He gestures towards it. “Honestly, I think I’m letting warm air in, not out…”

Hyunjin kicks him in the leg. “Stop deflecting, mister.”

“I know, it’s just…” Jisung sighs. He moves to his door and closes it. Hyunjin makes a drawn-out hum.

“Is this about him?”

Jisung blinks at him.

“Who?”

“The mystery person who stole Han Jisung’s heart.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Who I’m still waiting to learn the identity of, despite already enjoying all other benefits of my status as your best friend.”

“Why would you think it’s about– Why would you think it has anything to do with—” Jisung stumbles.

“Well, now I’m worried you’re gonna tell me some other big secret and I’ll need to start researching how to hide a body.” Hyunjin pokes his half-eaten ice cream towards the closed door behind Jisung. “Why else would you lock us in this kiln you ever so generously call a bedroom?”

Jisung knows he has backed himself into a corner, so he gives up. He does let out one last whine of complaint, as if he didn’t do this to himself and Hyunjin came over to interrogate him entirely of his own volition. Then he flops onto his bed and stares at the ceiling, stuffing the ice cream in his mouth while he thinks of what to say. He can see Hyunjin staring at him from his peripherals, waiting for him to speak. After a minute, Jisung sees him move. He hears the little wooden stick of the ice cream land in the bin in the corner, the trash bag making a noise. The mattress shifts under his back when Hyunjin comes to lie down next to him.

“You’re okay, right?” Hyunjin checks in, and Jisung smiles.

“Yeah. I think so,” he assures his friend. If not for the heat already in it, Jisung’s sure it would warm his heart to hear Hyunjin be so concerned.

“Alright. So then what is this about?”

Well, that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? What is this about? Is it about Jisung’s feelings? Desires? Thoughts? Fears? Life? Fate?

Or perhaps, it is simply about all of the above, all at once. About the one common thread connecting them all.

“His name is Chan,” Jisung says, and the world stills and falls silent to listen. “His name is Chan, and he has not stolen my heart. Because I didn’t let him.”

Hyunjin pushes himself up onto his elbow, staring down at Jisung, who keeps his eyes on the ceiling.

“You didn’t let him?” Hyunjin is quiet. Perhaps he, too, can hear how silent the world is. “So he… does that mean he… I don't know, tried? Did something happen, like… Um. Hold on, he—” Hyunjin blows raspberries in the air to slow himself in his tracks. “Okay, so this guy… He likes you?”

Jisung chuckles. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.”

“I just know he wants me,” Jisung says, mainly because it’s true. He doesn’t realize how it all sounds until Hyunjin starts sputtering and gaping at him like a fish.

“Jisung!” he squeals. “What in the hell…?”

Oh, if only he knew.

“Not like–” Jisung cuts himself off, because yes, he does, exactly like that , but that isn’t the point. “The point is, I don’t…”

“Wait, so the problem is that you don’t like him?” Hyunjin laughs incredulously. “Jisung, what sort of secret second life have you been leading, what the hell? Why don’t I know about any of this?”

“Hyunjin.” Jisung finally meets his eyes. “I do like him. The problem is that he doesn’t like me. He just..." He fails a hand about. "Wants me."

Hyunjin’s mouth closes, and after a few breaths, he goes, “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Jisung sighs. “Oh.”

“So… You want him to like you.”

“He won’t.”

“You can’t know that!”

“I can and I do.” Jisung closes his eyes and massages the bridge of his nose. “Long story.”

“Well, clearly. And I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Hyunjin sighs. “But let’s say you know he won’t like you. So then… What now? Are you trying to get over him?”

Jisung snorts because guess what. “I have been, for the past two years or so.”

Silence follows and Jisung assumes Hyunjin is thinking. But when he looks over, his friend is just staring at him, mouth agape.

“Two years,” he says at last. “Two whole years this has been going on and I find out now. I know we only established we’re the same fruity flavor of a disaster not that long ago, but still. Two years ?” Hyunjin lets out a breathy laugh. “You started early, Hannie.”

“Don’t remind me, please,” Jisung whines and covers his face in his hands.

“Wait,” Hyunjin whispers, tone suddenly dipping with concern. “He didn’t do anything, that like… to hurt you, did he?”

“Not unless we count the agonizing journey of self-discovery,” Jisung placates his easily irritable and oddly righteous friend. The last thing he needs is a crusade (or exorcism?) on his behalf.

“Ah, so he was yours, then?”

“My what?”

“Gay awakening,” Hyunjin answers with a casual enough tone that it cracks Jisung up.

“Perhaps.” Jisung giggles and pats Hyunjin’s arm, as if he didn’t already have his attention. “Though, do you remember that time we had volunteer work?”

Hyunjin groans, falling back onto the bed. “You mean do I remember the fucking soldiers? Yeah.” He sounds so pissed. “I remember.”

“Glad to know I wasn’t alone in my suffering.” Jisung giggles again, and this time Hyunjin joins him.

“Anyway, hot soldiers aside.” Hyunjin elbows him in the side, making Jisung let out a fake pained groan. “What about the one you’re trying to keep away from your heart, then?”

Jisung rubs at his ribs as he considers the question.

“I don’t know,” he says. It’s a half-truth. “I’m not sure,” he adds, which is a lot closer to the full truth.

“Not to be that kid from bible study,” Hyunjin says and Jisung snorts. “But this sounds a lot like the first temptation.”

“No, it does not,” Jisung argues because he knows better. It is just one of many, actually.

“Yes, it does!” Hyunjin giggles. “There’s an apple dangling in front of you and you’re refusing to grab it because you’re afraid of the repercussions.”

“I’m not scared of angering God,” Jisung says defensively. “God can suck my dick.”

“He is almighty, after all,” Hyunjin murmurs, making himself giggle. He rolls over on his stomach and looks down at Jisung again. “But what about Chan?”

Well, unless his tempting visions were filled with lies, there is no doubt Chan is capable of doing it as well, though Jisung isn’t about to tell Hyunjin that.

“What about him?” Jisung meets his friend's eyes.

“Are you scared of him?” Hyunjin asks gently.

Jisung swallows, searching his face. “No? No, why would I be?”

"Are you scared he's going to hurt you?" Hyunjin scoots closer, placing his head on Jisung's shoulder. Cuddles for emotional support. "Your feelings? Your heart, if you let him get closer to it?"

Jisung doesn't answer, not for a while. He knows Hyunjin doesn't mind. He always waits for Jisung to organize his thoughts and never rushes him to say things he isn't sure he means.

Jisung appreciates it more than he has words to say it with.

"He's not someone... Gosh. Please, don't interrupt because this is tough to say," he whispers, and Hyunjin nods against his shoulder. "He's gentle, surprisingly, given his… personality. You wouldn't expect the kindness, the gentleness of his touch, based on how he acts and talks. But you're right, I am scared. I'm..." Jisung takes a sharp inhale and looks up to blink back the tears in his eyes. "I am scared because it all feels like a lie. Because at the end of the day, I know he doesn't know how to be gentle with... with his heart."

The ceiling is the same blank white as it always is, and not for the first time Jisung stares up at it as he wonders the same thing. This is the first time he says it out loud, though. Then again, maybe loud isn't the right word, because his voice is barely above a whisper.

"If he even has one to begin with..."

"I am going to say this with the utmost respect for your feelings and what you're going through," Hyunjin says, then rolls off Jisung to lie on his back again. "But you're being a drama queen, Han Jisung."

He leaves no time for Jisung to even feel upset, let alone voice his grievances.

"Also a bit of a dick for assuming anyone can be heartless just cause they haven't fallen madly in love with you yet. But I'll just assume I don't have enough context to get it," Hyunjin chuckles. "Listen, Jisung. I've been thinking recently, and I realized something you might need to hear. The way to fight temptation is simple. Because what is a temptation if not resisting desire, right? Don't let anyone, God included, tell you what you desire. You decide for yourself what you want and then, do you know what you do? You go after it."

"That's easy for you to say..." Jisung wants to interrupt, but Hyunjin doesn't let him.

"No, Jisung. It's easy for you ," he says, sitting up on the bed. "If Chan really wants you, then at least you know he has the capacity to like you. You just have to convince him he does."

Jisung sits up too. He seriously doubts Chan has the capacity to like things, but he doesn't really have a way to explain that to Hyunjin without also having to explain how he’s essentially gotten himself a pet demon.

“You’re afraid of being tempted?” Hyunjin smiles, tapping Jisung on the knee. “Well, then I suggest turning your attention towards beginning a temptation of your own.”

“So what, you’re telling me to go after him? Set myself up for heartbreak?” Jisung shakes his head. “Hyunjin, I really can’t—”

“Why not?”

"Because if I let myself love him, I'm afraid I won't ever know how to love anyone else!" Jisung yells.

Hyunjin freezes. They both do. Whether it's from fear of being heard or having spoken matters little.

"Take it from someone who's already figured out as much," Hyunjin speaks quietly. "If you're afraid of that , then all of this worrying is pointless. Because you already love him."

Jisung inhales, but he doesn’t get a chance to speak. Though even if he did, he wouldn’t have known what to say.

“Cause you’re afraid nobody will ever make you feel so much, right? How would you know that if you didn’t already feel how much it is?”

Hyunjin's words ring in his mind and emotion fills him. All he can do is stare at nothing and feel , because as soon as they'd been pointed out, Jisung's emotions woke up and burned. Hot and dazzling, they could not be ignored anymore.

It's a lot, too much, far too much.

"Jisung?"

He looks up at Hyunjin, who moves closer to Jisung and pulls him into a hug.

"It's gonna be okay. Trust me, even if something goes wrong and he turns out to be an asshole, it's gonna be okay. You know how I know?"

"No..." Jisung sniffles, closing his eyes. There's so much to be felt.

"Because I know you. And I know that Han Jisung will never run out of love to give."

He tears up, but holds his composure. Barely.

"Also, I have trouble imagining there would ever be anyone who could resist your charms," Hyunjin adds, and it makes Jisung chuckle weakly. He hugs Hyunjin a little tighter and sighs. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Hyunjin says and Jisung knows he means it. “But you have to keep me updated.”

“Naturally.”

Chapter Text

Though it takes some internalizing, which he only gets to do a few days after Hyunjin has enlightened him, Jisung does realize his friend is right. In fact, he realizes even more.

He realizes that not only does he have feelings for Chan, but his feelings for Chan are, well, his . They aren't something Chan put in his mind, like the many temptations before. They're not parts of God's plan either, at least he is pretty sure they're not. They are his and his alone, and as such they are exactly what he needs in his fight against God.

He thinks about Chan a lot, about what he'd said the last time he'd seen him. He meant it. He really did. He didn't want to belong to the demon. He was only now beginning to shake the chains his God had kept him in, and he had no intention of walking back into either that particular cage or another. But Hyunjin was right. The temptation to belong disappeared almost completely as soon as he set his eyes on what he really wanted. Once he began to hear his own desire, his own voice whispering to him what he wanted, once he had a goal that was his , it drowned out everything else as if it had never been there to begin with.

He doesn't want to belong to Chan.

He wants Chan to be his.

“All mine," he whispers the words the demon had growled against his lips. He taps his fingers against his mouth and looks out the window of his room. It's summer and it's hot, the sky is clear and the sun burns.

He imagines Chan, envisions a future where the demon belongs to him. Not any more than he belongs to himself, but still. His . The idea makes him feel powerful and light. He wants, and like the summer sun, it burns.

But of course, there's the issue of what he'd said to the demon the last time he'd seen him. It's been months since, but it's not like he's had a chance to apologize. He isn't sure if demons are the type to hold grudges. Still, Chan has been uncharacteristically absent, and the thought bothers Jisung slightly.

He prepares himself mentally and emotionally to confront the demon. He waits until his parents have gone to bed. He turns on all lights except his bedside lamp, and takes a few breaths, rehearsing what he wants to say. From halfway inside his head, surely, the demon will know he feels bad, right?

When he’s ready, once again, he whispers his name into the dark. But the demon doesn’t come.

“Chan?” he tries again, keeping his voice quiet. Nothing. He can neither see nor feel his presence. Chan is not there.

Okay, change of plan. He needs to get Chan to listen to him somehow. And well, the fact that Jisung knows what Chan wants is just as true as its reverse.

"Chan, I miss you," he says, even making his voice come out a little desperate. Then he holds his breath and waits. But Chan really doesn't come. And okay, that kind of hurts a little. But hey, if he really did hurt the demon that time then... well, Jisung gets it.

But now he's sort of out of a plan and he has no idea how to summon the demon.

"Chan? Can you hear me?" he poses the question to the empty room. "Do you want me to say please? Please, come here, Chan."

There's no answer and okay, Jisung is getting a little upset. For some reason, he doesn't doubt that Chan is listening. He is very nearly convinced he's being ignored on purpose.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he says. "I really am. I was rude to you because I was scared and I'm sorry." It doesn’t work. Nothing works. He tries calling out a few more times, and does all but beg. Yet his room remains stubbornly empty.

He gives up, for the time being. Well, giving up may not be the way to put it. But he recognizes a stalemate. Therefore he retreats and decides to plan his next move very carefully.

Battle, not war, you know?

He is entirely lost at first as to how to go about getting Chan to return to him, but after about a week, he has a thought. It’s a thought he almost pushes away from his mind on instinct, until a very quiet voice in the back of his head goes um, actually—

He comes up with a plan. It’s a Hail Mary of a plan, because if this fails too, then he really has no clue how to get the attention of the demon again. If it fails, he might as well give up for real. So he makes up his mind. He must assume it will work. 

Jisung is nervous. It is summer but the sky is dark and rageous. There have been thunderstorms all day. They remind him of Chan.

He waits for his parents to settle and for the sun to set. He waits for quiet, or at least an absence of the sound of people. Out there, against his window, the storm is loud. Just not loud enough to drown out his nervous heartbeat. At least the air has cooled, Jisung thinks. A welcome break from the heat that has been plaguing his room for weeks.

Too bad he’ll have to ruin it.

“What am I doing…” Jisung whispers to himself. He fiddles with his own fingers, looking around his room. He looks down at himself as if he’s possessing this mortal vessel for the first time and he’s unsure of its features. And maybe he doesn’t like what he sees because he decides to turn off the lights after all. He reaches for the bedside table, and with a click, he gives way to the comfortable veil of shadows.

He swallows. He wishes he could opt out of having to bear witness to his own actions, but sadly there is nobody to commit said actions in his place.

“This is ridiculous.” He curls up on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest. “This is stupid.”

But it is also the only thing he hasn’t tried yet. And he has to assume it will work. He has to assume it will bring Chan back to him.

Chan… He’ll come back. He’ll be here, with Jisung, while he—

Jisung’s breath breaks into a quick staccato and warmth simmers in the pit of his stomach. Oh, he wants that. And more importantly, he knows how to get it, because he’s learned from the man himself.

He remembers everything, clear as day. He remembers all the things the demon has told him to do, everything he’s made him yearn to do.

“Okay,” he whispers as if answering the demon’s guidance, even now. “Okay…”

He rolls onto his back, letting his mind and his memories lead him. He knows what he felt back then. This time though, he doesn’t ignore or chase away the urge to touch. Jisung breathes out slowly and puts his hand flat against his stomach. He drags it down along the side of his waist and pulls up his knees, palms wandering over his inner thighs…

Jisung sighed. “Had your fun already?” he called out to the empty room.

“Admit it.” The now familiar voice rang out from behind him, from near his bed. “You missed me.”

Jisung snorted, keeping his eyes on his trigonometric functions. “No way.”

“Chan…” he whispers, recalling the many images the demon has gifted him with over the years. “I miss you…”

Jisung sort of regrets always shutting down this particular intrusive thought before it could happen. He feels like the practice run would have come in handy, no pun intended. But even though Jisung had always resisted seeing himself, Chan would find ways to torment him. 

“I think you should know that you can make yourself feel really nice. I know,” the demon said and then there were the images again, this time not of Jisung though. It was the demon, naked, and Jisung couldn’t close or avert his eyes because it was all in his head. He was forced to watch the demon’s hands move, his muscles twitch, his face contorted in pleasure. He heard the quiet moan that left his lips that Jisung could see slowly parting. “I know it feels good. And when I feel good… Well, I already know your name, don’t I?”

He reaches under the waistband of his trousers. Jisung breathes in again, but it hitches in his throat when his hand brushes over skin he hadn’t realized could feel quite so sensitive.

But right now, he feels everything tenfold. 

He stutters out air in favor of any other sound that might be louder. The storm is masking all of the noises he’s making, but he doesn’t have the comfort of being aware of that. He lets tentative fingers brush against himself and grits his teeth, trying to make no sound. He’s holding his breath as he slowly wraps a hand around himself, in the way he’d seen Chan do it. He stills to let himself breathe, panting.

He moves his hand slightly, and a whine catches in his throat. He swallows to hold it down. His eyes flutter shut, and he fears he’ll lose his mind when he repeats the motion. 

Fuck. Chan wasn’t lying. It really feels… really good.

It feels even better when he loses focus on his own movements and turns his attention towards the images in his mind. And as soon as he does, he makes a sound that is high-pitched and—

“Needy, are we?” Chan said against his cheeks, moving to kiss down along his face, jaw, neck.

The thought of the demon comes naturally at every jolt of pleasure that rushes through him, up his spine or across his skin, white and hot and fast. He can’t hold back the soft sounds that leave him, though he’s trying his best to be silent. Then he remembers silent isn’t what he is here to be. He is here to try and bring back a demon who’s been trying to tempt him into doing exactly this. So what he needs to do is let the demon know he’s here.

“Chan…”

“Chan?”

The demon’s eyebrows raise in interest.

“You… In one of the visions, you made me say that name. Is it yours?”

“Chan…” he repeats, a little louder this time, but still barely speaking. “Please, Chan… I miss you.”

He hates how desperate he sounds, he hates how close the real thing is to all the fantasies Chan has shown him before. He hates how honest he’s being, hates how close it is to what he thought were lies.

“Oh my god…” he whines quietly. “Please, Chan– Ah…”

His words fade into a broken moan when he moves his thumb across the head and he squirms against his sheets. “Ah–” he moans, and he really wishes Chan was here to help him, because this is agony . He has no idea how to— “Chan, please. Help me…” He doesn’t know how to finish what he’s started.

Jisung feels the bed under him shift. He freezes up and his eyes fly open. He gasps, his entire body bursting into flames all at once.

Red. Crimson-red glowing eyes hover above him, staring down at him. The mattress is dipping down under hands on either side of his head and under knees that frame his hips.

“Chan,” he moans, his relief mixing with the pleasure until they’re all but the same emotion. “I’m– Cha– Ah…”

“You, Han Jisung,” he growls and Jisung feels inexplicable joy. “Are going to drive me up a fucking wall.”

Chan is mad, definitely, but Jisung doesn’t really care because it’s Chan , it’s really him. He is here and more importantly, he is exactly where Jisung wants him. Where Jisung needs him to be.

Almost.

With the hand that he’s left unoccupied thus far, Jisung reaches up to quickly pull Chan down. The demon moves with practically no resistance, and their lips crash together in a mess of a kiss. Jisung melts, moaning into the demon’s mouth, no longer caring about the sounds he makes because Chan is here.

He kisses Chan hungrily. His head spins when he’s met with equal fervor from the demon. All the shame of getting caught by him (despite this having been his goal all along) and the knowledge that Chan is aware that Jisung wants him now mingles with the need to feel Chan want him back. It sets his skin ablaze, his insides magma hot.

“Chan,” he gasps in one of the moments few and far in-between, where his mouth isn’t, well, full. He doesn’t really get to keep going because Chan licks back into his mouth immediately. Jisung hums to get his attention, but Chan appears unbothered by his attempts to stop him. Not that Jisung is trying to get him to stop completely. Which is what he tries to tell him as soon as he gets a chance. “Help.”

This finally gets the demon’s attention. He pulls back just enough to pant against Jisung’s mouth. 

“What do you need, baby?” he asks, voice low and sweet. He leaves a trail of wet kisses along the line of Jisung’s jaw, awfully considerately freeing his lips and letting him talk.

“I need– Ah… You,” Jisung moans out, because he knows at least that much. “Just… Help me, please?”

“Look at you…” Chan says, and it seems he meant it literally, because he pulls back. He sits on his heels and the bedside lamp flickers on. Jisung quickly pulls his hand out from his pants, embarrassed. Chan catches his wrist and stares him down. He slowly drags his gaze down along the entirety of the mortal body under him. He teases Jisung like he’s always done. “All desperate like this… And just for me?”

But even if he feels naked under his gaze in the light, even if Jisung truly feels caught now with his wrist held firmly in Chan’s gentle grip, he still isn’t blind. He knows Chan is just as affected by him as Jisung is by the demon. He can see that he is.

Chan catches him looking and smirks. He moves Jisung’s hand to rest on his thigh first, then guides it slowly closer to the tent in his pants, giving the human a chance to pull away if he wants to. But he doesn’t want to, not really, so he allows Chan to lead his hand to where his own curiosity isn’t strong enough to take him. 

“Is this what you need help with? Or is this what you need?” Chan speaks and Jisung cannot meet his eyes. Partly because he’s too embarrassed to do so, but also because the next moment, Chan begins to move. He rocks his hips gently into Jisung’s hand and not only is he now reluctant to look away, he is pretty much content never looking at anything else, ever.

Then there is what Jisung can feel. Which is of course the fabric of Chan’s pants against his palm, but also the firm shape digging into it. The way Chan moves against him. The way he feels his own hand rub over Chan’s cock slowly, but it’s still the demon’s doing not his. As soon as that realization hits, he tries to move his hand too. And as soon as he does, Chan makes a sound .

It isn’t really a moan or a whine, more so somewhere right in between, and it’s very, very quiet. Almost just a sound that has forced its way through on an exhale. Jisung still understands what it means, so he does it again. Chan notices for sure, because he rocks his hips a little faster now, and if only Jisung dared to look up, he’d see the pure want in the dark of his blown-out pupils and the pleasure that’s written on Chan’s face in the drooping of his eyelids and in his mouth that hangs just ever so slightly ajar.

And so it really isn’t like Chan isn’t enjoying this, but he also isn’t rude. He isn’t about to ignore Jisung’s request, especially when he asked so nicely. So he moves his hand away and leans forward again to kiss him. It falls a little closer to sweet and tender than what he was going for, but it’s okay because Jisung makes a cute little noise anyway, which was the point.

Chan lifts a knee off the bed and presses it between Jisung’s legs. Then the other one. He forces the human’s legs apart, which is met with no resistance. He settles between them, all the while kissing him enough to leave Jisung dizzy.

Chan has no clue where Jisung gets the idea to wrap his legs around him, but it’s not an unwelcome surprise. He smiles against the man’s lips and hums in appreciation. “Eager, are we?”

“Slow, are we?” Jisung bites back, probably without thinking. Chan just chuckles.

“Don’t worry, Little One, I don’t intend to make you wait much longer,” Chan assures him, and as a sign of good faith, he rolls his hips down against Jisung’s, who moans, loud. He slaps a hand over his own mouth, eyes wide in alarm. Chan chuckles and presses a kiss over the back of his hand. “It’s okay. I made sure nobody can hear you,” he reassures the human.

“You can,” Jisung says, muffled against his hand.

Chan smiles, fond.

“Damn right I can. And I want to.”

And by god, hear him he does. Whether or not Jisung intends him to is thrown quickly out the window when one roll of the demon’s hips becomes two, becomes many. All he can feel now is Chan and pleasure, though even those two are fast becoming one and the same. His arm fails to stay in place and his hand uncovers his mouth, grabbing the bed sheets instead. There’s nothing stopping Chan from hearing him now. 

Every inch he’s jostled up on his bed and back as Chan ruts against him is an inch he’s closer to insanity. He can feel pleasure everywhere, dancing across his skin in sweet waves. He’s never felt any of this in his life, and he almost never wants to stop feeling it again.

But he knows he can’t keep going. He knows the pleasure will eventually get too much, and he knows because he’s close to that point already. He feels the breaking point approaching, and he doesn’t know what to do.

“Cha– Ah,” he hiccups between moans. “Chan?”

Chan hums in acknowledgment, leaving another mark over Jisung’s collarbone. 

“Too much,” he whines, the hands he has tangled in Chan’s curly hair pulling weakly. Chan moans. “It’s too much, I can’t– I can’t keep– Ah,” Jisung struggles to speak.

“Go ahead, Jisungie.,” Chan kisses the side of his neck. “You can come.”

“H-how?” Jisung asks, and there’s a barely noticeable pause in Chan’s movements, just a slight change of rhythm as he processes what the human has just asked him.

“Just…” Chan kisses his cheek this time. And before he kisses him for real, he tells Jisung, “Just let go.”

Jisung does let go, and Chan can feel him melting under his touch. Then, on the next roll of the demon’s hips, he moans, Chan’s name rushing past his lips. His back arches off the bed and his fists in Chan’s hair tighten.

Chan never knew his name could sound like that. So broken and sweet, desperate and divine. He comes with Jisung’s voice ringing in his ears, dazed, moaning into the human’s mouth.

For a moment, there is nothing in the room save for labored breathing and gentle touches and trembling, shy kisses. The first thing to break the silence is Jisung’s pleading “Chan,” and Chan thinks there is no sound more perfect for the job.

“Yeah?” he asks, unsure.

“Stay?” Jisung holds his face in his hands, and Chan wants to run. Whether it is away or even closer, even he doesn’t know. But when Jisung kisses him and begs so sweetly, he hardly has the will to move further away. “Stay here, okay?”

“You want me to stay the night with you?” he whispers against Jisung’s cheeks before kissing over the soft flesh.

“For now,” Jisung giggles. “And then stay with me for the next,” he adds, guiding Chan’s lips back to meet his own. “ And the next", another kiss, "and the next."

Chan isn’t sure about all of that, but for now, he is more than happy to curl up with Jisung under the covers (after having cleaned both of them up, because while Jisung complains about a delay in his well-deserved snuggles, Chan is fairly sure neither of them would want to wake up like that).

He rubs his face against Jisung’s once he is in the bed with him, wrapping his arms and legs around the human comfortably. “You do realize I have to leave in the morning, right?” he murmurs, relaxing his arms while Jisung shuffles to get comfortable. “Unless you want your mother to see this when she comes to call you for breakfast.”

“I know.” Jisung sighs, content. “Just be quiet when you leave, thanks.”

“Alright, damn, no need to cry over it.”

Jisung giggles. Chan smiles.

“Chan?”

“Mhm?”

“I really don’t mind that you’re a demon.”

Chan opens his eyes just to roll them. “Leave forgiveness to God. I’m fine. I wasn’t mad at you to begin with.”

“Yes, you were. Unless you’ve been ignoring me for the hell of it.”

“Nice.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Chan chuckles. “It’s okay. I consider this as you making it up to me. I’m fine.”

“Alright,” Jisung sighs, though from his tone Chan assumes it is anything but. “I’m glad you came back.”

“Well, you tried so hard to call me, I couldn’t very well ignore all your kind efforts.”

“I fucking knew it would work.” 

“Shut up.”

To his surprise, Jisung complies, falling silent. When there’s no answer for a minute, Chan assumes the conversation is over. So he says, “Goodnight, Jisung.”

“Goodnight.” Jisung snuggles closer. “Just you wait, Channie…” he murmurs, stifling a yawn. “Some day soon, I’ll tell you ‘Good morning,’ too.”

Chan cannot tell him, but he is eagerly awaiting the day, maybe even more than Jisung is.

Chapter Text

Jisung’s last little stunt earned him the demon’s near-undivided attention once again. Chan kept visiting him daily— or nightly, rather.

The first night after, when he materialized in the darkness, Jisung was already almost asleep. He just tugged his bedsheets aside and pulled Chan down under them, then cuddled up to the demon's chest. Chan sighed and voiced his disappointment, talking for a few minutes to try and tempt Jisung into staying awake but making no real effort to do so. (Probably because every suggestion he made was met with a small kiss over the fabric of his shirt, right over his heart. And well, it was sweet and so very Jisung that Chan didn’t mind the change of plans.)

The next day, he makes sure to get there sooner, which leads to Jisung’s eyes going wide as saucers when he sees Chan in his room as he walks in after getting home from an outing with his friends. He makes a choked-up sound before promptly shooing him away.

“Go! Get out!” he hisses at the demon with urgency, his voice panicked.

Chan is confused, wondering what he’s done wrong again. He just stands there in stunned silence, so Jisung grabs his wrist and pulls him towards his closet, pushing Chan inside and slamming the door in his face, just as Hyunjin opens the bedroom door, walking in with Felix in tow. Jisung looks like a deer in headlights, but beyond that, his friends can’t find anything incriminating in his room—though not for a lack of trying—because Chan finally got the hint and poofed into the shadows, though not without giggling about it profusely. In hindsight, having understood that Jisung wasn’t mad at him, his panicked expression was kinda funny.

Felix and Hyunjin stay the night, so Chan has to wait until they both fall asleep on the inflatable mattress they have installed in Jisung’s room. Then, Chan crawls into bed too, pressing up against Jisung. Who, startled awake, elbows him in the stomach. He hisses at Chan, inquiring about the purpose of his visit and whether or not it is in search of the underground.

“The hell are you here for?” He turns to the demon half awake, and Chan presses his palm firmly over his mouth.

“Try not to wake your friends,” Chan says very, very quietly, smiling when Jisung squirms out of his hold.

Jisung doesn’t try to speak again but he does mouth “Unbelievable.” at Chan before he gives in, turning his back to the demon and letting him hug him from behind. Once comfortably spooned up, Chan sighs contentedly, smiling against Jisung’s pajama shirt. He can feel the mortal’s heart beating fast under the arm he has curled around his chest, and he yearns for the belief that it could be beating for him.

The sleepover is a trade-off between Jisung and his parents, who are flying overseas to visit family over the weekend. Jisung wanted to invite his friends over so he wouldn’t be alone, but his parents refused to let the boys stay unsupervised in the house overnight. They trusted Jisung on his own, but they have been his age at one point in their lives, and still remember how fast common sense dies in the company of like-minded individuals; especially when said individuals share a common pool of finite brain cells. But as compensation for being so harshly rejected, his parents had agreed to let Felix and Hyunjin stay over before they flew out.

Which of course meant that after seeing his friends off to the bus stop, Jisung gets home and says bye to his parents, who are already loading their luggage into the taxi they called. He waves until they turn the corner, then heads back inside. He climbs the stairs to his bedroom and sends one last quick text to his mom, reminding her to let him know when they land or get to his cousins’ place safely.

When he’s done and gets an ’ok :)’ back, he tosses his phone on the beanbag chair in the corner of his room, then flops backwards onto his bed with a huff.

It takes less than a second before the view of the ceiling before him is blocked by Chan’s face, the demon climbing on top of him with a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Hi,” Chan greets him, giddy.

“Hi,” Jisung smiles and brings his hands up to hold the demon’s face. “Missed you.”

“I don’t even need to ask anymore?” Chan teases but pliantly allows Jisung to squish his face into a pout.

“Nope!” He giggles before craning his neck up to kiss his demon chastely.

If Jisung is being honest then he’s gotta admit, he was a little scared of what his giving in to the demon that time would bring about, or what Chan might demand from him. But to his absolute relief, Chan seems more than content simply kissing him and holding him close, or pressing himself against Jisung while they make out, close as humanly possible. It’s unexpected but not unwelcome. It definitely sets the cogs in his head turning, though. So on the first night of their freedom (wherein they finally have the house to themselves) Jisung asks him about it.

Chan’s lying propped up against the headboard on Jisung’s pillows, the human and his blanket over him. Jisung has his arms crossed over Chan’s chest, his chin resting on them as he blinks up at the demon.

“What are you thinking about?” Chan prompts him. He keeps playing with Jisung’s hair, but his eyes move from following his own hands to meet the human’s gaze.

“Why are you being so careful with me?” he asks, having decided it's the most straightforward way to word himself.

Chan seems caught off guard by the question, and he contemplates it for a minute or two. He smiles a weak, bittersweet smile when he answers. “I just… Don’t wanna scare you away. I don't wanna leave you. I don’t want to lose you.”

Something in Jisung’s heart is set aflame at his words. He takes a breath, which shakes on the inhale.

“I don’t want you to leave either.” He scoots upwards carefully, trying not to hurt the demon under him with unfortunate knee placements. “I very much like having you here, Chan.”

He leans forward, offering a kiss, which Chan takes with a smile. When Jisung pulls back and looks at him again, Chan is silent. He simply stares back, and Jisung feels things. Oh so deeply.

“Okay, but I’m pretty sure there’s more,” Chan says, nodding towards Jisung. “It’s written all over your face.”

“I mean, there is, but that’s a new train of thought entirely.” Jisung juts his lower lip out as he thinks. His eyes wander across the features on Chan’s face. “I guess I’m just curious.” 

Chan raises an eyebrow. “Of what?”

“Is this… So like, you know how your eyes turn red sometimes?”

Chan nods.

“Is that, like, the default setting?” Jisung asks. The demon laughs. “Come on, I’m serious!”

“Yeah, I know,” Chan coughs, keeping the rest of his laughter in. He nods. “It is the factory default, yes.”

“Why change it?” Jisung frowns, contemplative if not perplexed. “Is that just to not scare me off, too?”

Chan’s brows furrow for a moment, questioning. “I mean, yeah,” he admits. “Humans tend to prefer things that look familiar.”

“Well, I don’t know what kinda humans you’ve met,” Jisung says, sulking. “But I definitely prefer the original color. It’s more… you .” He shrugs. Chan blinks at him, processing his words.

“You mean to tell me… you’re okay with the red?”

“No, no.” Jisung shakes his head quickly. “I’m telling you I prefer the red. It’s an important distinction.”

His words earn him a long, dazed stare, but in the end, Chan chuckles. “Alright. Have it your way then.” He closes his eyes for a second and when he opens them, they are their original, crimson color again.

Immediately, Jisung breaks out in a smile that reaches from ear to ear. He looks up at Chan with sweet swirling emotions in his chest, but resists the urge to surge forward and kiss him again. After all, he has more to ask him.

“What else is like that?” He speaks with a tilt of his head, eyes never leaving Chan’s face.

“Like what?” The demon frowns slightly.

“Different. What else—Like, I don’t know. I don’t know what demons are supposed to look like, so I don’t know. How close is this version of you to like, what would be the real you? The original, you know?”

Chan swallows, looking worried. “Uh,” he stammers, glancing away. “I mean, it’s kinda close in some ways, I guess? But different in others. I don’t know how to explain.” He shrugs, hoping to get out of the question. Jisung doesn’t let him.

“Then don’t explain,” he responds with a shrug of his own. “Just show me.”

“What?” Chan recoils, bewildered. Surely, Jisung can’t be serious.
But the human scrambles to his hands and knees, carefully moving to straddle Chan’s lap for the optimal viewing position. He looks at the demon expectantly.

“You did the eye thing, so go on. I wanna know what you look like for real, and not just what you think you should look like for me to think you’re attractive.” Jisung lifts a hand to make a wall next to his mouth, whispering secretively. “Which is very accurate, by the way.”

Chan snorts, but his amusement quickly gives way to worry again. He’s reluctant to follow the instructions of the mortal.

“Please?” Jisung asks, batting his eyelashes. “Pretty please?”

“That’s the thing,” Chan mutters. “It’s… it’s not pretty.”

Jisung stalls like a badly maintained car. He replays the words in his head and finds the aftertaste of them to be undesirable.

“I refuse to believe that,” he tells the demon. “There’s no way you could be not-pretty, Chan.”

The demon looks at him and not for the first time he looks… Sad. The broken kind.

“Trust me. You wouldn’t like it,” Chan says, petting Jisung’s arms placatingly. “Nobody would.”

“Can you at least let me decide that for myself?” Jisung pleads. He reaches out to caress and hold Chan’s face. The demon nuzzles into his hand and presses a kiss to the heart of his palm.

“Are you sure?” Chan peers up at him.

“A hundred thousand percent.”

“I hope you won’t regret this,” Chan whispers.

Jisung doesn’t answer. He waits and watches as Chan begins to transform. His face changes, though only slightly. His features turn… sharper, though not in a way that makes him any less attractive. It only makes him look the slightest bit older. Horns grow on either side of his head, slightly curled and the same black as his hair. He also seems to shift upwards on the bed, which confuses Jisung for a moment. Then he realizes: Chan’s gotten bigger. Taller. Barely enough to notice.

What’s infinitely more noticeable is the sudden movement against Jisung’s leg. Something thin and slithery like a snake moves against the skin of his calf and makes him jump nearly out of his skin. He squeaks and looks down, mouth falling agape as soon as he spots the thing that touched him.

He watches a thin, jet black coloured tail settle down against the bedsheets, brushing against his leg as it does. He looks back up at Chan with wide eyes and chin forgotten on the floor. The demon’s eyes burn as they stare into his, watching for his every move, every reaction. Jisung is trying to say something, anything, but he’s too distracted. Too many thoughts are rushing through his head, none of which come to mouth when he meets Chan’s gaze. He is so distracted in fact that he doesn’t even notice the large shadowy shapes behind Chan until they move.

When Chan leans forward just a little to slowly unfold his large black wings, careful not to knock everything off the bedside table, it becomes impossible not to notice.

“Whoa,” Jisung breathes out, biting his lips. His gaze keeps roaming over Chan. But like, can you blame him?

“So,” Chan says quietly, “I take it you don’t hate it?”

Jisung laughs, though the sound comes out a lot like a whimper. “Chan…” He shakes his head, incredulous. “My god.”

“Not quite.”

Jisung rolls his eyes, but smiles anyway, the tension suddenly broken. As soon as his thoughts return to him and he finds his voice again, he asks Chan, “Can I touch?”

The demon smiles, because Jisung with his big sparkly eyes asking so reverently if he’s allowed to touch him has one legally allowed reaction and it’s a dopey endeared smile.

“Sure. Where do you wanna touch?” Chan wiggles his eyebrows. But Jisung isn’t really paying attention to what he says once he gives his permission.

He raises his hands first to cup Chan’s cheeks again. It’s not what he expected, and the demon almost pulls away just out of surprise.

“You’re not as pretty as before,” Jisung says before kissing him, languid and lingering. When he pulls away, he rubs their noses together, smiling as he does. “You look more handsome and sexy now, than you do pretty, you know?”

Chan scoffs. He puts a hand behind Jisung’s head and pulls him in for another kiss, forever insatiable. Jisung pulls away and blinks his eyes open to glance past Chan’s shoulders at the expanse of charcoal black now there. He extends a gentle hand, fingertips barely touching the skin of the wings.

“You can touch it,” Chan says, and Jisung feels his tail (which he forgot was there) brush against his leg again. He jumps at the feeling. Then he realizes that the demon is caressing him reassuringly with it, just as he often does with a hand on Jisung’s arm.

Jisung nods quickly in acknowledgement before he puts his hand flat against the surface of the wings. He pets it gently, smiling to himself. It’s soft.

There’s a hitch in Chan’s breathing when Jisung’s hands move closer to the bone. He turns to look at the demon’s face, but sees no sign of discomfort. He sees no sign of anything, really, because Chan is staring back up at him with nothing but eager anticipation and unwavering attention. 

Jisung pulls his hand back and this time he moves his pointer finger to the tip of Chan’s horn, poking it. It isn’t quite as sharp as he expected. He traces the horn down along the wave-like curve. Chan’s eyes flutter closed, seemingly on their own accord. When he gets closer to the base of it, the demon sighs. “Does it feel nice?” Jisung asks, dragging his finger slowly up and down the length of it. Chan hums, leaning into his touch.

“Surprisingly so,” he answers, sounding almost drowsy with sleep despite no doubt being wide awake.

“Surprisingly?”

“I’ve never had anybody touch them like this,” Chan admits, opening his eyes to look up into Jisung’s wide and shocked ones. “You’re the only mortal to have seen me in this form and have gotten close enough to touch. As you might imagine, we don’t tend to walk around in this form when trying to seduce humans.”

Jisung laughs silently. “It’s a shame.” He shakes his head. “It’s a very attractive form.”

“Oh?” Chan raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?” He smiles and runs his hands up Jisung’s legs to rest them on his hips.

“I uh…” Jisung shifts to get more comfortable in the demon’s lap. He can feel the spearhead-like end of the tail slide slowly under his shorts, moving from his shin to caress his thigh instead. He shudders, leaning closer to Chan without thinking. “I definitely do think that,” he breathes out, nodding.

“I might have to visit you in this form more often, then,” Chan chuckles.

“Always.” Jisung nods. “I do like the other one, don’t get me wrong.” He runs his hands down the demon’s chest only to drag them back up again. “But this is…” He only shakes his head, bringing his hands up to hold Chan’s jaw on either side, angling his face up slightly for a kiss.

Chan has never met anyone like Jisung. To learn that the human had been curious about his true form was shocking enough. But to have him not only like it but prefer it to what Chan had snatched straight out of his deepest desires?

Chan—despite having chased the feeling of being wanted his whole life, or rather, his whole existence—has never felt truly wanted until this very moment. It makes him feel like a drowning man finally breaking the surface, and he breaks away from their kiss for air with the same sort of desperation.

But Jisung isn’t like the raging ocean, he isn’t cruel or deadly. So, although he is consuming Chan whole, the demon is still more than happy to dive right back in, to kiss him again, to pull him closer, to hold onto him a little tighter. He slips his tail free from under Jisung’s shorts and instead curls it around his waist, holding him closer, his Jisung. He folds his wings over them like a blanket, caging Jisung in his hold. And the mortal sighs contentedly, relaxing into it, melting into Chan.

It’s the sort of thing heaven must be made of.

“Chan?” Jisung sighs against his lips. Chan hums, a prompt to continue. “I think…” Jisung pants, pulling back just enough to look at him, to look into his bright red eyes. He’s still holding Chan's face, but to the demon, it feels like he’s holding all of him. His heart, his soul. Jisung has all of him, in the palm of his hand. 

“I love you,” Jisung says and Chan feels something in his chest, something that has been torn, slowly beginning to mend.