Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This is a terrible fucking idea,” Jihoon groans, clutching his face in his hands as he watches his friends scrounge around Junhui and Wonwoo’s disorderly, shared flat in search of a fresh piece of paper. They had been joking around for all hours of the day previously, in thinking of all kinds of weird and wonderful things they could do to kickstart their summer break on an unforgettable note. They’d had a plethora of activities brainstormed; some illegal, some dangerous, and some plain unrealistic. Even with one of their friend group missing, eleven people trying to come to a consensus on one thing was difficult - especially given all the great ideas that had been pitched in earlier throughout the day, judging by all the loose paper scattered around the floor of the apartment. Seungkwan was always best at this, after all. However, it was Seungcheol’s non-committal suggestion of “ Why don’t we just summon a demon and be done with this? ” that had sent the majority of the boys into a complete frenzy of inspiration and excitement.

“What kind of demon do we want to summon, though?” asked Hansol eagerly, the second-youngest of the group.

“Good question. Someone Google a ritual, spell, whatever,” orders Jeonghan; clearly enthused and taking charge of the whole situation.

“Heard Junhui’s dabbled in some weird demonic shit before,” Wonwoo pitches in with a smirk, having lived with Junhui for almost two years now.

“You bet your ass,” Junhui retorts back at Wonwoo. With laughs chiming in from all around, he reaches for his phone and starts typing search terms into the browser.

Though it came out as a joke, Wonwoo actually wasn’t wrong; Junhui did have a knack for the supernatural. More specifically, demonology. Even he had no idea when it had started - especially given how conservative and non-skeptic everyone he had grown up around was during his childhood. Maybe it was exactly that, or maybe something inside him knew that there was more to this world than humans, animals, and God - if he even existed at all. That being said, however, he wasn’t far gone enough for whatever these fantasies were for them to erase the fact that none of what has supposedly been recorded as truth by hippies and drugged up believers has been deemed scientifically possible. That this was purely for the sake of a bit of young, stupid, teenage fun - and possibly a cool story to take back to uni when the next school year swung around. Shaking off the contact anxiety, he pulls up an interesting looking article, skim reads it, and decides that this one’s alright to use.

Maybe it’s an error in the loading of the page, or the coding’s outdated, but he can’t see a written title on the tab or on the page itself; and nowhere in the article does it say anything about the kind of demon it summons. Deciding that it was probably for some kind of sprite, he shrugs. After all, what was the worst that could happen?

“Found one!” Junhui announces to the room, figuring that they had nothing to lose - considering the possibility of anything actually happening was right about zero.

“Awesome, what do we need?” asks Hoshi, excitable at the prospect of the activity having a barely slim chance of working. His optimism lightened the mood and chatter arose amongst the boys yet again.

“Uhh, a white candle, some incense, paper, a pen, a needle, and a quiet & lockable room. Oh, and a pentagram,” Junhui reads out before turning to Wonwoo. “We got any of those in the house?”

“Well, we’ve got the paper, pen, and needle, but I’m not too sure about the candle and incense - and much less about the pentagram,” Wonwoo replies. Junhui returns to the article, reading quickly that the ritual is best performed between 12 to 3 in the morning. Glancing at the clock, he reads 11:49 PM. Deciding that he wants to make the most of the opportunity, he turns and snaps his fingers at the two youngest among them.

“Hansol, Chan. Can you guys go to the convenience store just down the road and pick up some incense and a pack of long white candles real quick? Not the tealights, those won’t work,” Junhui orders, handing Hansol his card and whispering his PIN number into the younger's ear. The two promptly oblige, and swiftly leave the house. Junhui gets the rest of the boys to push all the furniture to the sides of the living room and grab tea towels to shove in between the doors that don’t lock. While the rest of the boys are at work, he prints off a paper copy of the article, since he figures using his phone during the ritual might throw off whatever might come towards them during the process. He considers printing off the pentagram too, out of self-preservation, but - daunting as it is - he has another idea in his mind.

Discreetly, he slips out of the room and into his own private quarters. Gritting his teeth, he opens the door to his wardrobe and rummages right through to the back of the cramped space. Grabbing hold of the velvet fabric, he worms his way out of the closet and onto the floor of his bedroom. Unrolling the thick material, he dusts it off a few times before laying it out and allowing himself a good look at it: a black, heavy textile, with a red five-legged star and numerous markings and designs dyed across the front. Choking back a gulp, he rolls the pentagram back up before returning to the living room, preparing himself for concerned questions from his friends upon presentation.

By the time Chan and Hansol are back, it’s just past twelve and the rest of them are already seated in an age-ordered circle in the middle of the now spacious, semi-empty room.

“Here you are,” Chan says while handing Junhui the candles and incense. Wonwoo hands Junhui a lighter as Hansol and Chan take their seats on the floor, and he orders Jisoo to turn the lights off. Junhui stops Jisoo when he thoroughly reads the first step: Make sure there is no one under the age of 18 on the premises during the carrying out of this ritual.

“Chan… I’m afraid you’ll have to sit this one out,” Junhui slowly announces. Chan’s face falls slightly at this, and he stands reluctantly.

“Ok, I’ll just wait outsi-”

“Chan, this could take hours for all we know. The best thing for you to do is just to go home,” says Mingyu, a sorry expression painting his usually soft and bright features.

“Maybe next year,” Seokmin chirps up, positive and sympathetic as always. “We’re really sorry, we all wish you could sit in as well.” Chan blinks a few times, hesitating as he collects his thoughts and eventually sighs in agreement.

“Alright then. Goodnight,” Chan says in mild disdain after a long pause. As silently as physically possible, he makes his way out of the living room, his departure marked by the gentle click of the front door swinging shut. Jisoo shuts off the lights and returns to his designated spot in their circle.

“Where’s the pentagram?” asks Seungcheol. Taking one deep breath, Junhui reaches behind him and places the mat on the ground in front of him. Bracing himself for whatever the boys would say to him in just a few seconds time, he rolls it out so that it lays flat exactly in the middle of the circle.

Nine pairs of eyes flit between the pentagram on the ground in front of them and Junhui himself. He feels his ears burning in slight embarrassment and breaks the silence, clearing his throat before he speaks.

“Let’s start now, shall we?” the rest of the boys nod except for Jisoo, whose face has paled and hands stilled in mild shock. Junhui feels slightly guilty about it and offers for Jisoo to leave. Surprisingly, Jisoo chooses to stay. Church kids need to live a little too, Junhui figures. With shaking hands, he sets the candle and incense down in the center of the pentagram and speaks up to brief his friends on what to do.

“Alright guys, so basically you need to start thinking about what you want in your mind. This might be a bit awkward, but it mentions arousal somewhere here in these instructions so I guess… think about your deepest sexual desires I guess?” Jun reads out, feeling his cheeks burn while his friends all chuckle alongside him. “Then we’ve all got to write down said desires underneath our names on a piece of paper, so I guess everyone fold the paper down after you’re done so that no one gets embarrassed. After we’ve done that we all have to meditate, so close your eyes and concentrate on whatever it is you want so… yeah. I’ve also got to burn the paper, and then we need to keep the candle alight for at least 30 minutes, so be patient. I’ve got to sign it off under my name and in my blood, and my alarm’s set for three a.m. If nothing happens by then, then that’s just our luck. None of us are to speak, except for me. Everyone got that?” The boys collectively nod and begin to settle into the zone of the ritual. Junhui leans forward to place the candle and an incense stick in the middle of the circle and quickly lights both of them. He then joins the rest of the boys, and begins to think about exactly what he had told his fellow members to do; ponder on his darkest hidden fantasies.

After what feels like enough time has passed, he nudges the paper anticlockwise towards Soonyoung on his right, and he begins to write. None of them try to read one another’s writing as the paper is slowly filled up with everyone’s wishes of lust and sexuality. Finally, the paper returns to Junhui, who first writes down his own desires before signing off the paper in his full Chinese name. Picking up the needle, he inhales deeply before quickly pricking an artery in his right index finger and pressing it to the paper gingerly. As the blood soaks into the thin sheet, a tingling sensation runs up his spine and goes to his head. Shrugging it off as placebo, Junhui cues for all of them to close their eyes. With all of them in deep focus, Junhui speaks up with as much confidence as he can muster through all the mixed sensations flowing through his core.

“Spirits, please receive this offering. I give it truthfully and willingly.” Taking the lighter in his hand once again, he reaches forward and lights the corner of the letter. As the flames engulf the paper, he speaks up one more time before closing his eyes and letting himself relax back into the meditative state required in order to complete the ritual:

“May the light of this candle and the scent of this incense burn brightly and guide thee spirits to me.”

For two hours the room is completely silent, save for the light breaths of the boys and the occasional cough from one of the members. It is a miracle in itself that one of them fall to sleep, as when Junhui’s phone goes off to indicate the end of the ritual’s time window, they all open their eyes, at least three of them immediately yawning.

“Well, that was a big flop,” Jihoon speaks up, pessimistic as always. Junhui simply stands and brushes himself off quickly - wondering if any of the others felt the same things he did for the two-and-a-bit hours they had sat there in silence. “I’m heading off home soon, anyone need a ride?” he chimes in once again, drawing out responses from all around. All the rest are either standing around getting ready to go home or helping shift all the furniture back in place, while Junhui remains affixed to the spot to gather his thoughts.

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the room shifts - as if all the heat has been sucked through the ceiling - and the boys all perk up their heads at the drop in temperature. The mess of tingling sensations chills Junhui’s bones whilst simultaneously causing him to overheat severely. Repressing whatever physical phenomenon that was currently happening inside him, he reassures his friends that all of this is just an illusion, and that nothing has actually happened from these kinds of rituals in the past.

“You’re all probably just hallucinating from tiredness. Head on home whenever, Wonwoo and I can tidy up on our own,” Junhui announces.

Deciding that none of this was real and that maybe he’s falling ill, he blows out the candle, taking the electricity out right along with it.

“Jesus, what the hell?” Jisoo exclaims, cowering right into a corner of the room.

“Someone check to see if the water’s running!” Junhui yells in panic. What in the Lord and Satan’s name is happening? is the only thing he can bring himself to think as the ground underneath them all begins to shake.

“Got your back!” yells Hansol, darting off to the bathroom to turn on all the taps. The quaking of the ground increases at an exponential rate every second, to the point where standing is a complete impossibility by the time Hansol’s able to shout out to them that the water’s not working.

“I told you guys this was a bad idea,” Jihoon says in a condescending tone underpinned with fear intrinsic to the situation.

“Yeah, no kiddi-” Wonwoo starts before the floor opens up right before them, red light flooding the ceiling. Junhui’s pentagram is lost to the crevice, and in any other scenario Junhui might have been upset about it - fear putting a damper on all other emotions as in the literal heat of the moment - what with a spark-spitting split through the wooden floorboards of the living room - there was no such time to be protective over their personal belongings. As fearless as Junhui liked to think he was, there was no getting around the fact that this was easily the most terrifying thing he’d ever lived to experience.

It takes at least fifteen minutes for the shaking to start dying down, during which the crack has widened to almost ten meters long and two wide. Hansol hobbles back into the room, disoriented from being separated from his friends for so long during the ordeal.

“You alright?” Junhui calls to him right as he notices the crack in the ground. Wide-eyed, Hansol’s eyes dart along its length before falling on Junhui’s face.

“Was that there before? I mean it’s cool, but like, when did this happen?” Hansol jabbers, barely coherent and wildly gesturing his arms in the direction of the crevice. The boys allow themselves a laugh and are just beginning to pick themselves back up when they’re all thrown back once again by the crack - this time violently eviscerating smoke, sparks, and light.

“Not this again,” Junhui groans, taking refuge behind a couch and calling out for his friends to take cover. He sits with his back against the couch’s posterior, preparing himself to wait another fifteen minutes or longer, but is drawn back to attention of the crack upon cue of the paranoia-stricken cries of his friends.

“Something just jumped out of there!”

“What the fuck is going on?”

“This is it, we’re all gonna die.”

"Why has no one mentioned the fact that we just summoned a fucking demon?"

“I swear to god if that thing’s evil I’m going at Seungcheol first for suggesting this.”

“Everyone shut up ,” Junhui commands. Slowly, the exasperated chatter of the boys dies down - and simultaneously, the smoke dissipates. As the ash in the room settles and the silhouette of the entity lightens, all ten jaws drop at the reveal of what none of the boys could have ever believed to be a feasibility for the Earth and humankind before this.

Standing in the residual smoke is a boy. Or at least, what appears to be one. His frame is slight and barely muscular, yet there’s an air of undeniable femininity that has nothing to do with how his face or body is built. Short, fluffy brown hair falls down in locks against his eyes, darker than chocolate but lighter than night. Peeking through his hair are two, short, suedey horns, and soft, leathery wings & tail extending from between his shoulder blades and lower back. He could almost be considered cute, with his posture and general aesthetic, if not for his attire: tight black leather shorts and short cropped top with a distractingly large heart cutout across the front - complete with thigh-high socks, heavy collar and belt, and suspender garter. What with the amount of skin he was showing, and the silence in the room, all the group of ten could do was stare at the mystery being in the room - and the mystery boy right back . In all their taken-aback ness, the only elephant in the room was how undeniably attractive this... demon, was.

His eyes flit around the room at each of the ten boys staring dopey-eyed and dumbfounded at him and finally speaks up.

“What’s up?” he asks in perfect Chinese, confused even further when nobody reacts immediately. Rocking on his heels, he turns to have a good look at each of the boys standing before him. “You know, I’m not really used to this kind of set-up. Usually, the people who summon me are more… forward. Willing.”

“My friends only speak Korean,” Junhui manages to reply, fumbling over his words, completely mesmerized by the being standing before him. The demon boy sighs and makes to speak up again.

“Okay, so my name is Minghao. What do you want from me?” Minghao , Junhui thinks. Great Ming Dynasty.

“I… We…” splutters Junhui. Minghao simply cocks an eyebrow and folds his arms, standing at rest. “Sorry, just give me and my friends a moment,” he answers after a few attempts at articulating himself. When Minghao tilts his chin upwards slightly in affirmation, Junhui crosses the room at lightning and speed and brings all his friends together into a huddle. Once they’re together, Junhui peeks over at the demon- Minghao, who has two fingers stuffed into his ears and is singing lightly so as to not eavesdrop. In any other situation Junhui might’ve found the action endearing, but immediately, Junhui is bombarded with questions, and his head returns to the mess of a conversation unfurling before him.

“What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into?” asks Mingyu, clearly confused out of his mind.

“Why are you asking us? Ask Jun, he’s the one who found the fucking ritual,” Jihoon shoots back at him, glaring daggers at Junhui. “And none of this would have happened if Seungcheol had kept his big creative brain to himself.” Seungcheol keeps his head down, not making eye contact with a single other member of their friend group.

“Look, this is all a mess, but we literally have got a demon standing less than five meters away from us, and he’s just asked me we want from him,” Junhui urges.

“This was supposed to be a joke, for crying out loud! What the fuck makes you think I know any better than you or anyone else here does?” Seungcheol shouts, clearly frustrated at so much of the blame being placed on him. With that being said, the rest of the members let their contempt go. Cheol’s right; no one is to blame for a situation that couldn’t have been foreseen no matter who or how hard they tried. It’s with a disinclined exhale and knowing they have nothing more to lose from here that Junhui breaks away from the circle and turns to Minghao again.

“No one has a clue. We did this as a joke,” Junhui forces through gritted teeth, mustering together all his willpower to not staring at Minghao’s crotchal area through the tight material stretched over it. Hand on hip, Minghao frowns and makes a noise of exasperation.

“So, not only do you not have an actual wish for me to complete, this a joint summoning. I’m literally stuck here.” Throwing his arms above his head and tangling his long fingers in his hair, Minghao huffs his disappointment. “Thanks, guys. Or should I say, contractors, since I’m now bound to you all for God knows how long,” Minghao goads, all emphasis on the word 'contractors.' Had anyone else in the room understood Chinese, Junhui might not have felt so insecure about how he was feeling in this moment.

Wordlessly, Junhui blinks, not knowing how to process the new information. He doesn’t know whether or not to speak again, but Minghao answers that for him.

“Oh, and in case you were wondering, I’m an incubus. If you don’t know what that means, you all will soon enough, because I won’t dance around a single one of you. And you, Junhui,” Minghao turns to address him, “you signed the contract in name and blood, and you are responsible for every little ill thing that happens to me. Watch your back - my mom is one feisty lady.”

Junhui’s heart drops a foot through his abdomen, and he gulps. One thing proves true from this night forward: he’s fucked, in both the figurative and literal sense of the word.

Chapter Text

The noise of everyone’s voices discussing and deliberating over one another pounds into Junhui’s head, drilling holes through his skull and well near penetrating his brain. As he rubs at his temples in a weak attempt to ease the throbbing and recall his alertness, all he can feel is regret at not reading the instructions the whole way through before dragging himself and nine of his friends into a contract with an incubus, of all demons to ever exist. Ever since he’d thrown Minghao in his room with the order to keep his mouth shut until he returned, ordered the boys to tidy up the room, and told them what exactly Minghao is, the conversation had been nonstop.

“Look, I’m not saying that being bound to a sex demon is a good thing, but if you think about it-”

“He’s a demon, Soonyoung, for fuck’s sake. He could have a venomous tentacle for a penis for all we know,” shoots Jeonghan, effectively cutting off his ever-positive friend's feeble attempt at optimism. Soonyoung mutters a faint agreement, and they sulk in silence - all except for Jisoo, who had been shaking in terror and clutching the rosary he always wore around his neck with both hands and frantically muttering to himself since Minghao had left the room. Junhui can’t tell, but he thinks Jisoo might be reciting bible verses in hopes that it’ll protect them, or him, if not drive Minghao away completely. As funny as it is, Junhui can’t bring himself to laugh at him. If he too were religious, he’d probably be doing the same, as there was no reversing what they’d all done for the foreseeable future. They might as well be dumpster diving in a department store; there was no way for them to take action against something none of the boys had the higher mind to understand, much less control.

“This is my fault,” Junhui utters softly, lightly thumping his head against the wall he hasn’t moved away from for the last hour or so. “If I’d just read the method thoroughly the first time around, or stopped us halfway through, or researched a bit more, none of this would have happened.”

“Jun, seriously, don’t feel bad. We all agreed upon this as a joke and we went in as a collective, so we’re going to get through as one too.” Junhui’s head perks up at the sound of Seokmin’s endlessly bright voice, and he allows himself to feel better momentarily. Smiling at his friend, he turns so the full expanse of his back is pressed against the wall. Even Jihoon, who’d scowled and made stabs at him for the past hour they’d discussed their options, was no longer glaring - instead choosing to lean his head on Seungcheol’s shoulder, drifting in and out of microsleeps.

“You’ve been uncharacteristically silent this whole time,” Wonwoo states, prompting nods from everyone - including Junhui himself. “Wanna take this time to explain that fucking pentagram you brought out?”

Junhui was fully expecting this question, although he’s completely lost as to where to start explaining - especially now that the boys are covered in soot from the division of the ground beneath their feet on top of having an otherworldly being down the hall from them. With nine pairs of eyes on him, a sweat breaks out at the nape of Junhui’s neck, and his lips part in a halted reply.

Had the ritual not worked, this might have been easier for him to answer.

“I.... Well, we all get curious at some point, I guess,” is all Junhui can say in his own defense. Eyerolls from all of his friends ensue, followed by a continuation of their previous staring. Their eyes press him for more depth, and he starts and stops several times before giving in and just letting the words flow.

“I don’t know, okay? I really don’t, and I know none of you are going to be satisfied with me saying this. But I’ve always believed in something more, something beyond the Earth we live in and the things we see for ourselves and know to exist. I didn’t know how else to try and gain my own access and insight to it, so I dip into occult practices every now and then. How it worked this time completely stumps me, because it never has before tonight. That doesn’t matter anymore, though, what does is that I’ve brought a fucking sex demon into our lives by contract. And I could have prevented it, which is the worst thing. Damn it, I just want to sleep. And get this Minghao kid - demon, whatever - out of our hair as soon as we can.”

Nine pairs of eyes blink at him, and already Junhui is apathetic towards anything they are about to say. Sighing, he closes his eyes and tips his head back against the wall; he doesn’t need to look at his friends to know that they believe him. More silence ensues until Jihoon twitches awake and yawns - setting off a chain reaction indicative of the fact that it’s time for them all to go to sleep. The situation will still be there in the morning for them to continue their search for a resolve.

Jihoon and Seokmin leave immediately - the rest of them staying to have some coffee before they walk home so that they don’t fall asleep on the sidewalk, and a debate on where Minghao would be residing during his time with them; deciding eventually that until further discussion, Minghao would stay with Junhui and Wonwoo in their flat. Soonyoung and Hansol are the last to leave, followed by Wonwoo stumbling from the living room muttering some shit about how he’s gonna buy a male chastity belt, and Junhui is left alone. Groaning, he hauls himself off the floor and winces as his knees give way from lack of use.

The trip down the hall to his own bedroom is a struggle and a half - with so many thoughts racing through his head at light speed, it’s a wonder he can even walk straight. Stopping by the bathroom to quickly gargle some mouthwash and rinse his face before going to sleep, he’s taken aback by how foreign his own face looks due to nothing more than a traumatic evening’s events.

In short: he looks like shit. Dark rings circle his eyes, and the leftover soot clinging to his skin forces him into the shower, stealing away half an hour he could’ve used to sleep. Junhui decides to use this time to ponder on the situation at hand, even though he had told himself prior that he would not think of this any longer for the time being. No matter how hard he tried to force his mind away from it, it would not leave the forefront of his conscience - especially given that this was something he’d believed in for so long.

Now, it’s been proven true - and he was there to witness it.

Of course, Junhui had questions. Was this to be anticipated, and why did he not in the first place? Why did they agree on an occult ritual instead of just going bowling? Should he tell someone outside his inner social circle, and would it help their situation? How is Minghao so goddamned attractive? Uncertain of his current ability to process thought, he swings open the door to his bedroom, stride long with all intention of flopping onto his bed and immediately succumbing to sleep.

He really didn’t know what he expected to see when he looked up at his bed, but whatever it was, it wasn’t the incubus laying widthways along Junhui’s bed, head hanging off the edge - and definitely not with one hand wrapped around his cock, lazily stroking along its length, and three fingers buried to the knuckle inside his own asshole.

Junhui’s jaw drops open as he takes in the sight of the boy, so innocent looking hardly two hours ago when he'd forced him into his room. A film of sweat glazes over his entire body, and his stomach and cock are flushed red from arousal. Upon hearing the door open, the demon - Minghao - crooks his head upwards, and peers at Junhui through blown pupils and half-lidded eyes. Panting lightly, he allows his head to fall back down off the edge of the mattress before letting out a long, wanton moan. The sound goes straight to Junhui’s dick, and he can feel himself becoming lightheaded as all the blood in his body travels to the same destination.

Ripping his eyes away from the scene, he turns and makes to leave the room, but Minghao is faster and blocks off Junhui’s escape. Shocked and bewildered at Minghao’s sudden apparition, he backs into the empty wall on the left side of the door, and Minghao follows - cock standing forward proudly as he closes in on Junhui. Despite Junhui being the taller of the two, he can’t help but feel small and helpless with Minghao surrounding him the way he is. Junhui turns his head away, hoping that Minghao will lay off him, but he only feels him getting closer. He’s aroused, all resilience chipping away every time Minghao licks or bites his lips. Still, the demon continues to lean in closer, and he smirks.

“You can’t resist me,” Minghao taunts, voice lowered to barely a husk. Junhui doesn’t respond - at least not verbally. His cock gives a twitch at the sound of the shorter boy’s voice, making Minghao grin. He leans in to tuck his chin in the crook of Junhui’s neck and brushes his lips against his ear before speaking again.  “Make one noise and my mom will hear about this,” he threatens, catching his teeth along Junhui’s earlobe and sliding it along his teeth before letting it fall back to rest, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin right atop Junhui’s jugular artery.

With this, Junhui’s resolve snaps. Grabbing Minghao by the shoulders, he expertly flips them so that their positions are switched, and Jun is now the one in physical control. In his element, Minghao’s irises are ringed burgundy, and they simultaneously surge forward; catching each other’s lips halfway in a furious, heated kiss.

A tangle of human limbs and demonic appendages, Junhui explores the inside of Minghao’s mouth with his tongue while Minghao’s hands roam the expanses of Junhui’s back and chest underneath his shirt. Both boys fumble clumsily at Junhui’s fly, and Minghao’s licking a long stripe up the underside of Junhui’s cock within seconds of unzipping his jeans. Mouth forming an ‘o’ shape, Junhui fists one of his hands in Minghao’s hair - the other bracing himself against the wall so as to give Minghao better angle for taking his cock down his throat. Minghao works his mouth off Junhui slow and deep, pausing every now and again to suckle along the tip of Jun’s cock.

Five minutes in, as an experiment, Junhui lets a quiet groan slip through. Minghao’s eyes widen and immediately, he pulls his mouth off Junhui’s cock, grabs him by the collar of his shirt, and channels all his burning vigor into glowering right through Junhui’s eyes.

“I will get up and walk out of this room. Don’t test me,” Minghao warns.

“Oh really, what are you gonna do?” Junhui preens, voice sickly-sweet and patronizing. Smiling innocently, Minghao rises so he is eye-to-eye with Junhui once again.

“You’re not the only one with a dick in this household,” Minghao says, batting his eyelashes prettily before glancing down at his still-hard cock for a fraction of a second. The small action drives Junhui completely up the wall, and he grabs Minghao by the throat; tackling him to the floor and straddling his small hips. Grinning widely, pupils dilated to the edge of his irises, Minghao laughs, throwing his head back. “ That’s more like it.” Junhui silences Minghao with a rough kiss, and he slots one leg between Minghao’s, allowing the smaller boy to stimulate his cock against Junhui’s thigh. They continue like this for a few minutes - Minghao rutting against Junhui’s leg - until Minghao decides he’d like his own way of things.

Pulling away from a confused Junhui’s lips, Minghao flashes a short smile at him once and pecks his lips playfully before grabbing Junhui by the shoulders and throwing him off to the side onto his back. As swiftly as he’d chucked Junhui to the side, Minghao climbs on top of him and crushes his lips against the taller boys' once again. The tiny sliver of Junhui’s remaining logical conscience is screaming at him to throw the boy off him, grab Wonwoo, run away, and perform some kind of exorcism spell. But his cock is so throbbingly hard, and his tether’s going to snap, and Minghao needs to hurry the fuck up . However, when Junhui raises both hands to grab onto Minghao’s hips, his tail whips forward to smack his hand away lightly.

"What the fu- "

“Don’t be too eager, now. We have all the time in the world," Minghao taunts condescendingly.

Junhui curses the demon for being such a tease as Minghao sucks a trail of wet kisses down his stomach, and wraps his hand around the tip of Junhui’s cock. Slowly, as if Junhui’s length had been bearing a ‘fragile’ sticker, he strokes down and back up to the tip of his shaft once - and when Minghao slides his thumb over the slit at the top of Junhui’s head, he cants his hips up into Minghao’s hand. He feels Minghao’s tongue swirl around the area of skin between the bottom of his cock and the base of his balls, and barely keeps it together. Expecting for Minghao’s emotionally torturous foreplay to drag out forever, he closes his eyes, deciding to lay back and just enjoy whatever sensational onslaught he would be bringing him next. Thankfully, Minghao decides against playing around for too long and climbs back on top of Junhui after only a few minutes more of teasing.

“I’m going to ride you now,” Minghao whispers into Junhui’s ear, voice dark and husky beyond anything Junhui could ever have imagined possible coming out of someone as unadulteratedly beautiful as the boy hovering over him. Junhui nods, not knowing how to respond to such a proclamation, cock spitting precome in anticipation of Minghao’s ready asshole stretched around it.

Gingerly, Minghao lifts his ass and reaches underneath, grabbing Junhui’s dick by the base. He gives it a few more slow strokes before placing Junhui’s cock head at his entrance, moving it against the puckered skin in small, still-teasing circles. Throwing his head back, Junhui wants to shift his hips and thrust home. But Minghao’s got the upper hand and he knows it, and he doesn’t want to know what kind of consequences he’ll face if he tries anything. It feels like forever that Minghao’s playing around with his own asshole with Junhui’s cock before he finally halts his teasing and positions himself so the tip is pressing into Minghao’s ready hole. Sighing at the pressure being applied at his asshole, he slowly sinks down onto Junhui’s length, letting out a long drawn exhale the whole time. Junhui arches his back and grips onto Minghao’s hips on either side, suppressing a loud moan when Minghao lifts his hips and sits all the way back down. Sweat lightly mists Junhui’s body, making muscles and skin glisten as Minghao slowly rises and falls on Junhui’s cock, stopping at the bottom every once in awhile to connect his lips with Junhui’s and allow their tongues to meet sloppy and uncoordinated.

“You're being so good for me, so quiet.” Minghao praises Junhui in the form of a whisper in his ear and Junhui’s head perks up. Shifting the angle of his hips just slightly, he feels a small hardness brush against his cock head, and Minghao’s stomach tightens as he lets out a high-pitched whine. Junhui smirks when he notices the stockings still sheathed around Minghao’s legs, and he runs his hands up and down Minghao’s thighs, completely amazed by how incredible they look on the small, slight, barely curvy boy. Smiling down at him with an innocence that makes Junhui forget that he’s barely human, Minghao picks up the pace of his hips and before long the room is filled with Minghao’s near-inaudible moans and pants, Junhui still not making a single noise. The rise and fall of Minghao around Junhui’s cock mixed with the heat of the room and the muted sounds of pleasure falling from Minghao’s blood red lips makes Junhui’s heart race, and he feels almost lightheaded; the overstimulation flooding all his senses. Feeling his blood pound through his chest, his head, and his cock, his hands slide up to cup Minghao’s hips and he tightens his grip like a vice on the smaller boy’s skin. Minghao closes his eyes and bites his hips, rejoicing in the knowledge that there will be bruises where Junhui’s fingertips are pressing into him.

When Minghao lifts his ass away from Junhui and starts slowly fucking his asshole over just his cock head, Junhui breaks. Growling low in his throat, Junhui further strengthens his grip on Minghao’s hips and thrusts home hard, pulling Minghao down to meet him in the middle. Minghao lets through a wail before remembering that they’re not alone in this apartment, and closes his hand over his mouth, moaning with every upwards snap of Junhui’s hips almost instinctively.

“I’m so close, Junhui- augh ,” Minghao breathes between Junhui’s increasingly aggressive thrusts and his own high pitched whines; the slap of skin on skin wanton and clear as Junhui jackhammers his hips upwards. The scent of the room is cloying and balmy and was sure to be noticeable the next day - not that Junhui cared at this particular moment in time.

“Me too,” Junhui replies, panting like a dog as his movements do nothing but become faster. “Jerk yourself off,” he orders, no longer thinking about keeping too quiet or remaining submissive to the body on top of his. Minghao obliges, pumping his cock with his hand with fervor.

Minghao comes hot and fast, drawing a sharp whine from within his throat. Angling his cock towards his stomach with one hand and covering his mouth with another, he releases all over his own abdomen as his movements up and off Junhui still as the larger boy grabs his hips to take complete control. Junhui thrusts into Minghao a few more times before pushing him off his cock and switches their positions around so that Minghao is on his back and Junhui’s legs straddle his slender torso. Fisting his cock, he fucks his hand over his dick hard and fast. Minghao’s mouth falls open and his eyes shut.

“Want your come so bad, ngh , oh-- please, harder ” Minghao rambles along with other incoherent phrases and jumbles of words until the first drop of Junhui’s come hits his skin and he throws his head back, eyes shut and mouth spread across his cheeks in a wide, toothy smile of ecstasy.

Junhui paints Minghao’s stomach all over with his come, marveling at the fucked-out expression on Minghao’s face. After Junhui’s milked all the semen he can from his cock, he stands to admire the being laying on his bedroom floor, who brings his hand up to swirl the come all around his stomach with his index finger. How someone could look so at peace and content with come-covered skin beats him, but what with how gorgeous he looks from above and the smile gracing his cheeks, Junhui decides that the question isn’t worth breaking another sweat over.

Fatigue suddenly wracks Junhui’s body, and he can’t tell if it’s Minghao affecting him or the fact that it was now past five in the morning. Junhui might have gone straight back in and fucked Minghao again if he weren't so tired, but his arousal is ebbing away, and all his mind is focused on is going to sleep. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, he collapses on his bed and falls to sleep immediately - his last thought before passing out on top of the sheets being the assumption that Minghao won’t go anywhere, and can take care of himself.

When Minghao’s senses tell him that Junhui’s asleep, his eyes shoot open. Wiping his skin clean with toilet paper and flushing them away, he moves quickly through the apartment and steps outside. The feeling of cool, early morning Earth air is chilly and pleasant against Minghao’s wings, and he begins to walk. His senses tell his feet to turn this way and that, and he admires the streets in which he is passing. Despite the pointless contract, he was happy to be back on Earth - and even more so to have ten contractors instead of the usual one.

For the time being, he simply smiles and walks on; mind set on the tall, dark, and handsome he knows he'll be getting his way with next.

The air in the spacious, lavish apartment hangs still and undisturbed from the lack of the usual late-morning activities that would otherwise have broken through the default monotony of the Kim residence. Light squeezes through the blinds, illuminating the sleeping body atop the super-king sized bed that was never quite full enough for the bed’s - or the boy’s - sake.

This was, more specifically, Kim Mingyu’s residence. As he rises to alertness by a faint knock at the front door, his eyes crook open and it takes him a while to remember where he is and what happened just a few hours ago. He had meant to stay the night at his best friend Wonwoo’s flat, but after the whole satanic ritual thing happened and they’d summoned some random demon-kid right into the middle of his and Junhui’s living room, he decided he was better off not hanging around.

In the middle of a long yawn, Mingyu suddenly stops and inhales sharply - eyes flying open after fully remembering what had happened last night. The number of questions he has about the situation that unraveled itself no less than eight hours ago for Junhui and the new boy (Ming-something, he remembers his name to be) cloud every nook and cranny of his mind, and he finds himself completely engrossed in a desperate urge to find answers. Truth be told, despite Junhui's (admittedly superficial) explanations last night, he still didn’t quite know what exactly what the demon kid was. Instead of looking it up immediately upon arriving home, he choose to simply strip off his soot-stained clothing, quickly wipe off his skin and go to sleep, like he assumed most of the other boys would have. But now, after a few hours of well-deserved rest and some time to remember what he had gotten himself into, he couldn’t wait any longer for explanations. Energy floods back into Mingyu’s body and he leaps out of bed, deciding that he can get ready in minimal time and answer the door on his way out. The whole process of picking out an outfit, showering, brushing his teeth and quickly fixing his hair is abnormally tedious, as the only thing on his mind falls nothing short of a craving for truth.

A flurry of stuffing arms into coat sleeves and grabbing things from various desks and tables, Mingyu races down the stairs leading to the downstairs hallway. His nose is stuck into his phone, frantically texting to the Kakao group he and his eleven other best friends were part of that he’d be swinging by Junhui and Wonwoo’s flat. On a whim, he decides that he’d ring up his favorite drive-thru cafe for a few muffins and cups of coffee so that when he arrives later, Junhui and Wonwoo won’t have to eat shitty budget ramen for once in their broke university student lives.

Too caught up in spur-of-the-moment business, he doesn’t look up from his phone even when unlocking the front door. With his phone pressed to his ear and hands fumbling at keys and wallets, he pulls open the door. Freezing on the spot and almost allowing his phone to slip from his hand - all previous desire for information instantly being replaced by complete confusion and a strange tingle of arousal, as he stares down at the young, doe-eyed demon boy he’d helped summon yesterday looking back up at him through bright and innocent eyes.

Mingyu stammers a few times, unable to form sentences or wrap his head around what he the sight before him. The kid- demon, simply blinks at him before speaking to him in Chinese.

“May I come in?” he asks plainly, no mischievous tone underlying his voice. Though Mingyu understood nothing of what the boy was asking of him, he figured that since the kid was clearly no longer within the walls of his friends’ home, that there was no point in leaving too soon. Shuffling to the side, Minghao steps into the hallway - his tail following him through the doorframe, and Mingyu has to force himself to look away.

Casually, the demon boy strolls down the corridor and back down again, peeking inside each of the rooms as he goes along. Mingyu’s eyes are fixated on the boy’s ass the whole time his back is turned against him, and he refuses to make eye contact when it isn’t in case it were to elicit some kind of negative response from any unholy instincts the slight, young-looking brunette might be hiding underneath his seemingly wholesome facade.

“Nice place you got here,” he says - again, in Chinese - as he lightly runs his fingers over a large white clay bowl Mingyu’s parents had given him as a decorative piece for his already luxurious apartment.

“I don’t speak Chinese,” Mingyu says, tripping over the phrase of Junhui’s native language he had taught him when they, plus Wonwoo, were in Shanghai last summer on their Asia travels. Mingyu thinks he sees Minghao’s eyes lighten up the tiniest bit upon hearing the sentence, but regardless, the leather clad boy-demon continues babbling on - not caring whether Mingyu can understand him or not.

“I’ve never been able to stay anywhere by myself before, is it nice? I’ve heard that it gets lonely, though, sometimes. To be honest, I don’t actually get any time to myself at all. I think I prefer it that way, what with the whole “demon from hell” thing going on with me. Jesus, is it always this cold on Earth? I’m always freezing when it’s here. Once I was summoned to England during one of their heatwaves and I couldn’t believe how sweaty all the people there were. I don’t know if it’s just me out of all my siblings, but I really do think humans are kind of weak. Man, I almost feel bad for you guys.”

The kid continues like this for at least fifteen minutes - all of which Mingyu spends repressing the arousal he can feel bubbling up within himself. The flush on the shorter’s cheeks is nothing less than blatantly apparent, as are the swollen lips he arrived on the doorstep already boasting. His eyes flicker periodically to Mingyu’s lips and he feels them drying as if the boy’s gaze alone was drawing the moisture from his skin. When the boy gives him a once-over along the expanse of his tall, toned, lean body he can feel himself sweating, completely bewildered as to how extreme the physical effects of such minute actions from a boy so small and innocent-presenting was having on him. Hot and red with embarrassment mixed with whatever demonic sorcery he was having performed on him, Mingyu darts his eyes around the upper range of his vision, knowing full well that eye contact would do nothing but render him unable to keep it together for any longer than he already was. When Minghao suddenly stops talking and takes a step back, a dejected expression crossing his features, Mingyu makes the mistake of looking down and locking eyes with the boy; realizing just a second too late what exactly he’d done when he tries to tear his eyes away and discovers that he can’t.

Two pairs of dark, dilated eyes gaze into the other for what feels like an eternity. But when the pair belonging to who Mingyu now fully accepts is a demon drops down to his half-hard cock peaking ever-so-slightly through his jeans, the last of his self-control leaves him. The boy, whose expression not even thirty minutes ago was bright and shining, now looks up at Mingyu - sultry and alluring. He bites his lip upon reconnection with the taller’s stare, and Mingyu decides he’s had enough.

With a lust stronger than anything he’s ever felt in his entire life leading up to now, he lunges forward to grab the boy by both his shoulders and slams him against the wall of his hallway. Their lips find each other in a messy, rough kiss - teeth and tongues moving awkwardly against each other as Mingyu runs his hands across and over the smaller body his own has pinned against the wall, he breaks their heated lip-lock to trail kisses down the demon’s cheek and neck, sucking marks into the boy’s smooth, ashen skin. In response, his head tilts back to expose more of his throat. All senses are heightened for both boys as Mingyu continues attacking Minghao’s neck, while the latter clings onto Mingyu for dear life, profanities leaving his mouth in a long string. Both are verbalizing their arousal in languages the other cannot understand, but in the heat of their desires, neither give a shit; their one and one only mutual goal being finding a release in each other.

Eagerly, Minghao’s hand drops down from where both of them were laying on Mingyu’s chest and begins palming his cock through his jeans. Mingyu’s breath hitches in his throat, and the suction of his mouth on Minghao’s neck increases, pulling a high-pitched, pleasured whine from within the boy trapped in by Mingyu’s body. Mingyu detaches his mouth from Minghao’s neck, taking a moment to marvel at the cluster of bites he’d left on the smaller boy’s skin before looking up into his eyes once again, and hoists a thin leg up to wrap around his waist so he can grind his hard member down on the other body's. Their lips meet again, and Minghao moans loudly every time Mingyu’s cock satisfyingly brushes against his own.

“Fuck me… Want your cock so bad…” Minghao begs, knowing full well Mingyu can’t understand what he’s saying. But Mingyu’s already got a plan of action in mind, and it starts with pushing Minghao’s top up and over his chest to expose his nipples, standing proudly ready and forwards.

Mingyu takes a moment to step back and look him up and down. His body is surprisingly shapely - skinny, but not bony or awkwardly lanky. His arms and legs are long, but not gangly, his shoulders are sharp, his collarbones push - strain, almost - against his skin, and his stomach is flat but subtly toned. And that's without his demonic features in mind, which for the moment he decides to ignore as well as he can.

All this, and yet... there's a softness there that he almost feels bad about handling roughly. But his eyes are so, so enticing, and he really couldn't give less of a shit about how his body looks when those dark brown orbs are honed in on his own.

Mingyu dives back in and brings his hands up to play with the small sensitive buds, his lips still on the demon’s so as to keep him quiet. Minghao tries to rut his hips against Mingyu’s crotch again, but Mingyu frees one of his nipples from between his fingertips and halts the movement of Minghao’s hips with one hand - all while trailing kisses back up and down his jawline and neck. He runs his tongue over some of the marks he’d left earlier before blowing cool air over it, the subtle play on temperature driving Minghao mad and he mewls, desperation evident in his racing pulse and the pace of his lips on Mingyu’s. Mingyu bites back over a particularly red and angry hickey, and Minghao keens impatiently. He silently curses Mingyu for not being able to speak Chinese, or himself for not understanding Korean, but no other need in the moment is stronger than that he needs to get the hell out of these shorts as soon as he possibly can.

Ducking down so his face is eye level with Mingyu’s cock, the taller boy watches as the demon undoes his fly, fingers working quickly and expertly so that Mingyu can then finish the job and free his member from within the confines of his jeans. He looks at Mingyu’s cock: tip red and slick with precum, and pointing outwards directly at his face. It’s thick and long, and Minghao wants to get his mouth around it, but he decides for this one he would rather skip the foreplay. Making quick work of unclasping his garter and stepping out of them, he wraps his arms around Mingyu’s neck and allows him to grasp his ass tightly and lift him into the air, Minghao’s chest coming in contact with the wall with a light thump. Mingyu slips a hand under to finger the boy’s asshole, but he notices that he’s already stretched, and - despite their growingly frustrating language barrier - asks him anyway if he’s ok to skip the pleasantries and just do him raw.

Mingyu knows that the responses he could garner from Minghao were extremely limited, therefore he assumes he’ll still need stretching out. But before he can get any of his fingers inside the boy’s hole, he feels slender fingers wrapping around his wrist and pulling his hand away. He looks up at Minghao, whose eyes flutter shut and head drops down so their foreheads are touching.

“Mingyu, ” the boy moans - and just like that, he’s gone.

Growling low in his throat, Mingyu’s hands work in a lust-fuelled frenzy as he keeps the demon pressed against the wall with one hand while the other fists the base of his cock. He angles it at Minghao’s stubborn rim, and before the boy can anticipate it, he thrusts home; immediately hitting his prostate as he drills his hips and cock deep with each push in. Minghao’s moans are broken up with every impact of Mingyu’s strong hips meeting his own in a loud, erotic slap, and throws his head back. Hot and lustful, Mingyu grabs Minghao by the hair at the nape of his neck, and pulls him forward, kissing with fervor and swallowing each other’s moans and foreign, slurred words of desire.

“How does it feel, huh? ” Mingyu whispers harshly in between increasingly faster thrusts into Minghao. Still held in place by Mingyu’s hand in his hair, Minghao just nods and keeps moaning, but his eyes are glazed over as if already he were too far gone, and he chokes up every time Mingyu’s hips snap forward and hit the little cluster of nerves inside his ass, electricity firing through his system every time the head brushes back over that sweet spot.

“God, I can’t take this, I - augh - you’re so hot, mmmm ,” Minghao babbles in his unfamiliar native tongue, high on the heat and sex and the assault on his prostate. Overstimulation takes over, and the exertion has him panting like he’s running a marathon instead of seducing someone. His lower back is raw from being pressed and lifted and scraped against the wall for so long, and he bites down on his lip so hard he tastes blood. The sounds their bodies make every time Mingyu's hips meet Minghao's is fuel in the fire of their debauchery, and Minghao is starting to feel overwhelmed by not only pleasure, but also by pain.

He’s never had a contractor handle him this roughly before. Not that he didn't enjoy it, because oh,  he was, but because Mingyu was only the second out of the ten he’s bound to he’s slept with so far. If these first two already are the best he's ever had out of every time he's been brought to Earth, he can't imagine what the other eight will have in store for him. Upon realizing something like this under different circumstances he might have been concerned, but with Mingyu’s cock buried to the base in his ass and whispering sweet nothings he can hardly understand into his ear, he’s too immersed in Mingyu’s ministrations upon his own body to care about the other eight boys he has in line.

The sex becomes sloppier as Mingyu and Minghao both tire, but neither can hold on much longer. Mingyu's thrusts grow increasingly inaccurate, and their moans resonate down the hallway in a rapid crescendo as the two approach their tipping points.

“I’m so close, oh, fuck,” Minghao breathes out, biting down on Mingyu’s shoulder to suppress screams. Mingyu picks up on the smaller boy’s body language, and he mutters something along the lines of ‘ me too ,’ before hauling him higher up the wall one last time and drilling him like it’s his dying day. Minghao cries out, unable to hold in the sounds of pleasure leaving his vocal chords.

When Minghao’s orgasm hits, the knot in his stomach tightens and comes undone in a climatic, exultant burst. Loud, indulgent exclamations of pleasure fall from his lips as his he comes, hot and heavy between his and Mingyu’s stomachs. The taller boy, eyes still darkened with lust and desperately craving his release, continues with his thrusts. Minghao, gratified but still wanting more, places his head in the crook of Mingyu’s neck, and moans his name one last time right into his ear.

Mingyu’s hips still and his eyes roll back into his skull, lids fluttering shut as his head falls forward and onto Minghao’s shoulder. When Minghao feels the first drops of come spurt from Mingyu’s cock within his ass, he grins widely and takes Mingyu’s face in his hands - kissing him deeply and tenderly as Mingyu finishes inside him. Bound by limbs and lips, they hold their position for a while longer - the satisfaction too delicious to let go of so soon after.

They mutually pull away, and, exchanging a smile, they take a moment to breathe before Mingyu pulls out and lets the demon down from against the wall. Doubled over and hollow from his half-gaping hole, he takes a moment to lean against the wall while Mingyu stands over him, not quite knowing what to do. Mingyu quickly does up his jeans and whips out his phone, fingers flying over the screen as he makes to call Junhui.

A tidal wave of new knowledge floods Minghao's mind and body and in perfect sync with the sudden gain of new information, his eyes light up - looking up at Mingyu with adoration and fire burning in his gaze. He speaks up, confident in the words he's about to let slip for the very first time.

“Wait.”

Mingyu’s jaw drops open, and he hears Junhui answer on the other side of the line. Mingyu hangs up the call as he stares in disbelief at the phenomenon - did he hear that right?

“I never introduced myself to you. My name’s Minghao,” the demon says with a smile sweet as sugar, in lovely, accented, near-flawless Korean.

Still-dilated eyes stare back and forth, and Mingyu's confusion is palpable in the air of the room. Minghao simply laughs and continues on - relishing in the shock upon the taller's features.

"If you seriously think that this is the most impressive thing I can do, then you'd best prepare yourself. I'm nowhere near done amazing you yet."

It's with this, and the fact that he already has eight missed calls from Junhui and Wonwoo both, that he knows that he - or any of his friends, for the matter - won't be getting out of this one anytime soon.

Chapter Text

“So you’re saying he just showed up at your house?” Wonwoo asks, confused as the rest of the boys in the room all were. Rubbing their temples and still drained tired from the previous night, the same group of boys as were all sat once again in Junhui and Wonwoo’s living room, the air in the room thick with displease as it was evident none of them wanted to be there. The seating arrangement is slightly different, as Minghao is sitting cross legged and alone on the floor while the rest of the boys look down at him from various couches and dining table chairs. The demon’s eyes flit between all ten boys sitting in front of him, and he holds his tail in his lap, stroking its velvety hide as he struggles to find somewhere - something - to train his sight on.

Mingyu feels a blush creeping up his neck, and he’s grateful he decided to change into a light turtleneck shirt before arriving. He nods his head a few times before reclining back into the corner of the sofa he’d cramped himself into, unable to look at Minghao for too long without being taken back to just a few hours ago to when they’d fucked like animals in the hallway of his apartments.

“How did he even know where your house is?” Jihoon pipes up, and Mingyu shrugs. “You can’t just say he turned up at your apartment and not know how he got the-”

“Quit it, Jihoon,” Junhui interrupts. “I’m the one who let him out of my sight. I’m the one you should be blaming. Again.” Jihoon sighs and drops all his questions, deciding to spare Junhui any additional stress he wasn’t already having to deal with.

“What even are we here for, then?” he says, throwing his arms up in frustration at having to be here instead of sleeping in extra. The rest of the boys mutter agreement, and Junhui feels helpless.

“I - well, we still have to figure out what we’re doing with Minghao,” Junhui says, failing to properly articulate himself. His friends all groan and roll their eyes, all while Minghao continues to look effortlessly beautiful and Junhui flushes red from embarrassment.

The truth was that he had ordered all his friends over to their flat after he and Wonwoo had both woken up to find Minghao missing from their flat, and had spent a good half an hour thinking and arguing about where he could’ve gone. They were on the verge of calling the rest of their friends anyway , when Mingyu had abruptly called him, bearing news of both the unfortunate and relieving sort.

“Hey… so um, I’ve got the demon,” Mingyu had stammered through the phone, and all three of them collectively flipped their shit.

Now, their full ensemble was seated once again in the living room for a deliberation meeting no one was keen to be a participant of - minus Chan and Seungkwan, of whom they decided were better off not knowing about Minghao for as long as they possibly could. Following the initial shock of the event, all but Junhui and Mingyu were experiencing extreme annoyance towards the entire situation. It was safe to say, that if it were possible, they’d simply kick Minghao out as if he were newly turned eighteen and they were his parents - desperate to finally be rid of their messy, loud, uncontrollable son. But knowing that they were dealing with forces beyond human comprehension, they also knew it wouldn’t simply be that easy. Just as they’d been doing since they all gathered, the boys and Minghao continue to stare at each other; ten pairs of eyes to one, until the demon quietly pipes out a suggestion to Junhui.

“Should we talk about where I’m staying?” he asks in Chinese, and Junhui nods.

“Okay...” Junhui says slowly, stiffly turning his head towards his friends before switching over to their native language. “The demon needs a place to live,” he translates bluntly, pulling fussy groans and complaints from all except Mingyu, whose eyes flit up and widen - the small patch of skin visible underneath the collar of his sweater now a deep scarlet. Junhui can’t help but notice the way his hands fidget and how he can’t quite sit comfortably enough for his own satisfaction, despite having decent room on the sofa.

“I thought he was staying here with us? You’re the only one who speaks Chinese, after all,” Wonwoo states with full confidence. Junhui remembers their agreement upon that last night, but one glance at Minghao and suddenly he’s faced with images of last night with the smaller boy on top of him, a chill shaking his core, electricity firing through his spinal cord.

“I thought he was staying here with us? You’re the only one who speaks Chinese, after all,” Wonwoo states with full confidence. Junhui remembers their agreement upon that last night, but one glance at Minghao and suddenly he’s faced with images of last night with the smaller boy on top of him, a chill shaking his core, electricity firing through his spinal cord.

“No, no, I really don’t have any room to take him in. I just remembered that I’m bringing drones home from uni for engineering in a couple of weeks and I need the spare room to tweak them,” Junhui states a bit too confidently. Wonwoo narrows his eyes at the lack of pause separating his and Junhui’s exchange, and can see his friend’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat as he swallows nervously. Maybe it’s stress from assignments, or that Minghao intimidated him too much for him to be able to live comfortably within his presence, but Wonwoo takes his word for it and rules their flat out of the question.

“So, anyone else-” Wonwoo begins before being brutely cut off by Jihoon.

“Don’t talk to me or Seokmin, we’d rather not have that thing in our house.” Seokmin nods, clearly in disagreement with Jihoon’s depersonalizing usage of the word ‘thing,’ but for the sake of their self-protection and Seungkwan’s too, it’s his show of kind declination.

“What about Mingyu? You should have a lot of space to offer up, right?” Jisoo puts forward, at which Mingyu’s face flares red and he embarrassingly blurts out a ‘No!’, meriting weird stares from almost everyone - except for Junhui, who is wearing a worried expression, and Minghao, a smug half-grin gracing his charming features. He stutters a few times through a tied tongue before he can bring himself to verbalize coherently.

“M-my parents might come around at any time, I’d rather not have to explain the half naked boy with wings and a tail to them.” Several pairs of eyes narrow in his direction, and Mingyu can only hope to God they can accept the lie he so awkwardly pushed through his teeth. “I can’t imagine sharing a house with anyone anyway,” he adds for believability.

All the while confused looks are being shared left right and center, Soonyoung notices Junhui staring at Mingyu, both of them sporting the same awkward blush on their cheeks. Slowly, the pieces click together in his mind, and he hides the grin spreading across his face behind his sleeve and a convincing bout of ‘coughing.’

“You alright there Soonyoung?” Seokmin asks, concern underlying his voice as it usually did - being the responsible person & friend he is - when someone around him shows the slightest sign of unwellness.

“Yeah, I’m fine man,” Soonyoung replies, brushing his friend off before returning his attention (and newly refreshed poker face) to the group conversation - already giving himself props for not breaking down laughing at the thought of Mingyu and Junhui in compromising positions with the demon currently perched lightly on his ass in front of them.

“He ain’t living with us, that’s for sure. We really need all the space in our apartment,” Jeonghan declares, half-snoozing and curled into Jisoo’s chest. Junhui says nothing in response to this, instead choosing to sigh loudly out of annoyance and hopelessness for the situation.

Soonyoung decides to contribute, only half-messing around when he speaks up about his latest idea. Given his current hypothesis, for Hansol - the straightest, most awkward romantic any of them knew - the demon would be an absolute headache of a responsibility for him. That being said, the chances of any hanky-panky happening would be close to zero.

“Hey, Hansol, you live on your own right?” Soonyoung says cheerily. Hansol’s head snaps around to look his friend in the eye and his lips part, clear that the cogs of his brain are churning as fast as they possibly can in deliberating whether he has the space and temperament to accommodate Minghao in his small, studio apartment.

“Well, you wouldn’t be able to sleep on my couch anymore, but as long as you don’t mind finding somewhere else to stay I reckon I’d be alright to take him in.”

“Well then that’s settled,” Soonyoung confirms, and the rest of the boys nod in agreement. Hansol’s mouth is still open, confounded by so many people settling for such a big decision on his behalf. He glances over at the demon, and is only half-surprised to see those big, round, brown eyes already trained in towards his direction, and he smiles sweetly and innocently at Hansol. He manages to quirk up the corner of his lip at him before turning back to the group.

“Is there anything else?” Jeonghan says through a long yawn. “I wanna go home and sleep.”

“Jeonghan, you slept in until five minutes before we were supposed to leave and then all the way through the car ride,” Joshua comments harshly.

“I think you’re forgetting the part where you’re a morning person and I’m not really.”

“Alright guys, stop with the lover’s quarrelling. Are we done? Can we leave” Seungcheol asks from the next couch over, squished up against Jihoon by with Seokmin and the ball of human named Mingyu, whom everyone held a degree of concern about seeing as he didn’t usually like making himself so small.

“Guess so, there’s nothing else to discuss,” Junhui says, and the group of boys disperses immediately. Within five minutes, the only people remaining in the apartment (apart from its residents) are Hansol, and Minghao. Wonwoo leaves to take a nap, leaving Hansol and Junhui together in the lounging room.

“So, uh, I guess I’m taking the demon no-”

“Not so fast,” Junhui interrupts, switching to Chinese. “Minghao, can you give us a minute?” He hesitates a second, not knowing whether he wants to send the boy into his bedroom or not - what with how well (awfully) it had worked the previous time. He ends up doing so again, in which Minghao simply nods without smiling and leaves the room - figuring that because Hansol’s here, he won’t try anything.

“What is this?” Hansol asks, confused by the seriousness in Junhui’s voice.

“Hansol. I know you’re a sensible kid and all, but keep your guard up around Minghao.”

“I don’t underst-”

“Listen to me. Just do what I say, and don’t let him get inside your head.” Junhui pauses, and swallows hard. “It’s not pleasant, when he does.”

“Not pleasant, how?” Hansol keeps pressing, not knowing the meaning behind any of what Junhui is telling him. He knows that Junhui’s keeping something big from him, but whether it’s to spare his feelings or for his physical safety is beyond him.

“Just - just be wary of him. He’s nice enough, but he is a demon after all.”

“Alright, alright, I’ve got it.”

“You sure?”

“Jun, you can’t possibly think that after graduating high school at 16, moving out immediately to live alone, and starting university two years younger than everyone else in my cohort that I’m still so naïve,” Hansol gripes, knowing that all Junhui’s doing is trying to look out for him as most of his friends do. But he grew up very quickly, and as much as he appreciates the support, he can’t help but feel a tiny bit insulted by the fact that his older friends still don’t see him as an age equal the way he wants them to.

“Whatever you say, big shot,” Junhui says, turning around to lead the both of them through the door down the hallway.

The mess in Junhui’s room upon entering it is abominable - all his desk drawers are open, clothes pulled from his wardrobe and hanging clothes rack scatter the floor, and they look up to see the light bulb blown out above them, sparking every once in awhile. Sitting in the middle of Junhui’s bed, swaddled up underneath the duvet, is Minghao - his only visible body parts being his face, one horn, and a few thick, brown locks of hair.

“S’up?” he says, taking in the shocked look on their faces.

“D… Did you do this?” Junhui asks, perplexed as to how such a huge mess could have occurred in the short period of time he’d been in a separate room to him and Hansol.

“Sorry,” Minghao answers carelessly, and Junhui has to mentally restrain himself from yelling the shit out of his lungs at the demon.

“Get the fuck out of my room,” Junhui angrily mutters, closing his eyes and standing there as the demon unravels himself from the sheets and quietly exiting the bedroom.

“I can help you tidy up if you want-”

“He’s all yours, Hansol. Take him away, I’ve had enough of this for today,” Junhui orders, turning around and thrusting the two from the apartment at lightning speed.
Breathing a sigh of momentary relief, he turns and makes to clean his room. The entire time he reorganizes his room to a satisfactory and liveable state, an underlying notion of terror keeps the back of his mind occupies, and with each passing minute he realizes how wrong it was of him to let Minghao go.

 “Well, here we are,” Hansol announces, tossing his keys on top of his shoe cabinet. “I’ll get the sofa ready.” Minghao doesn’t speak or offer to help out the whole time Hansol sets up the pull-out couch bed, instead choosing to nose around the tiny apartment curiously.

With Minghao present the space feels almost crowded, even though Hansol - being the smart kid he is - found every single convenient way to transform it into a comfortable and efficient living area fitting for a maximum of two people. In the main room is the living area, kitchen, and bed - which is sectioned off by a wall-like formation of shelves and other storage spaces. His desk takes up a sizeable chunk of the room, a Mac desktop, keyboard, and a stack of notebooks and loose paper sitting on top of it. Hansol’s entire life savings worth in sound systems surround, the computer, and in a box next to the desk is all his equally expensive recording equipment - none of which Minghao has a clue of their purpose. He continues to peruse the apartment until Hansol calls out that he is finished setting up Minghao’s bed.

“All done,” Hansol announces almost indignantly, and as he stands the two boys turn to face one another. He pats the bedspread, gesturing for Minghao to come over and test it out. “This is where you’ll be sleeping.”

“Thank you for this,” Minghao says, and Hansol’s mouth drops to the floor - eyes bulging out of his eyes in disbelief. For the longest time until this moment, he had no idea if he would ever be able to communicate with the demon fluently, but now the only thing running through his mind is how the fuck he managed to learn the language of the land seemingly overnight.

“Y-you… can speak Korean?” he blubbers.

Minghao simply chuckles at this and he glides over to tentatively sit down on the bed, then lay down and make himself comfortable. “I’m full of surprises,” is all he says in explanation.

“I can’t believe this, I-”

“Don’t have to, I’m here on a business trip, essentially. Before you know it, I’ll be gone."

“You’re a demon, for fuck’s sake, how do you know what a business trip is?”

“Long story, but you should know this isn’t my first time ever on Earth.”

“First in Korea?”

“Yeah.”

Unblinking, they stare at each other - and at the same time Hansol stands up and runs his hands through his hair in complete disbelief, Minghao starts laughing.
“Fucking hell, this is a nightmare,” Hansol exclaims, waddling over to his desk and plunking himself down, holding his face in his hands. He’s exhausted beyond belief, and all he wants to do is curl up in bed and do nothing for the rest of the week but pray that Minghao knows Earth well enough to be self-sufficient.

Deciding that for now, a few hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt, he stands up and addresses the demon whose face is now pressed up against the huge full length mirror installed on his wall, switching between examining his face in-depth and standing back to look at himself in full.

“Never realized how much I missed being able to see my own reflection this clearly,” Minghao says while stroking his hair through his fingers.

“Don’t you have mirrors in... wherever you came from?”

“Nah, nothing to make them with.”

“Shit. Well I’m going to sleep for a few hours, don’t destroy anything yeah?” Hansol asks, hoping to whatever higher being that Minghao will agree and actually uphold the meagre request.

“Got it boss,” Minghao affirms, and the metaphorical knot binding Hansol’s chest only loosens slightly. Saying no more, he walks over to his bed and lays himself down, drowsiness racking through his body. He swears he can feel a waft of a mischievous grin hanging in the air as he drifts off, and within seconds, he’s out.

 When Hansol wakes, it’s to a burning smell allusive to melted plastic and smoke, and Minghao quietly swearing his ass off. It takes him a moment to register the scent and in realizing its severity, he shoots out of bed and straight to the kitchenette. There he sees Minghao standing anxious and confused, completely lost on what to do about the black smoke pouring from the microwave and the still-sparking fork laying in the middle of the glass plate.

“What the fuck have you done?” Hansol exclaims, hands flying to his head as he runs to grab the fire extinguisher from its cabinet next to his front door. He sprays the totaled microwave while Minghao stands to the side silently, swaying lightly back and forth on his heels and twiddling his thumbs, unsure of how to help in the moment - that is, if it were to even be appropriate for him to help in the moment. Unsatisfied with silence, Hansol irritatedly yells at the demon once again. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, you fucking dimwit.”

“Could you have the tiniest bit of patience with me? Just because I’ve been on Earth before doesn’t mean I know anything! You humans are so fucking condescending, I swear to God,” Minghao bursts out, frustration flailing with his arms as he turns away from Hansol and storms into the bathroom.

Hansol almost feels bad for yelling at the demon. Minghao’s right, he can’t expect a supernatural entity to know very much about the human world at all, and he sighs, unplugging his microwave and removing the fork with a tea towel.

Disappointed with the outcome of the day, Hansol sets himself on the edge of his bed, and unsure of who best to contact, picks up his phone dials Soonyoung’s number. When he hears him pick up on the other side of the line, he’s met with a pumping beat with bass beating right through the speaker and rattling his skull.

“Alright, Soonyoung, who did you rob to hire out the studio again?”

“Didn’t have to, I found 50,000 won on the street outside a convenience store.” Hansol sighs at this, wondering why the hell his friend had chosen dance as his major when all the other options he could have gone with would have meant not living as a near-scrounger and sleeping on his friend’s couches just to get by.

“Get your ass over here,” Hansol barks down the mic.

“Jesus, what’s gotten in your hair?” Soonyoung asks in mock defensiveness.

“I’ll explain when you get here. You can use my shower, just hurry the fuck up.” Hansol hangs up before Soonyoung can reply and throws himself back onto his bed, wondering if the world will find some other depraved way to make his day even worse from here. Luckily, it’s three p.m. and Soonyoung takes only twenty minutes to arrive. Less pleasant is the fact that he’s dripping in sweat from dance practice and the heat of Seoul, but nonetheless Hansol’s happy to see him and that he agreed to come over.

“What happened in here? It smells like chemicals and fucking fire,” Soonyoung asks, sniffing the air conspicuously.

“Fire doesn’t have a smell.”

“Not what I asked, pipsqueak.”

Hansol flinches at the name, and answers him. “Fucking demon you guys left me with just put me two-hundred-and-twenty thousand won in debt by microwaving a fork.” He miserably gestures over to where his busted microwave sits, melted plastic and fried circuit still lightly puffing out smoke. Soonyoung nearly laughs, but then looks over at the now-useless piece of technology, and he suddenly feels terrible for, essentially, pressing Minghao into his hands. Judging by the way his friend is looking at him, Hansol probably blames him just as much as his own self does. When he makes the connection, it’s not surprising that he of all their friends was called over.

“So what can I do for you?” Soonyoung asks, knowing full well by this point he wasn’t invited to Hansol’s apartment to have a chill time.

“I-I don’t know, I have to ahh...” Hansol begins, immediately tripping over his words and vaguely motioning towards his front door. “...Go do something, get a new microwave. What do demons eat?”

“I don’t eat human food,” Minghao yells from the bathroom where he’d been silently hiding out. Soonyoung looks at Hansol and simply shrugs, and Hansol raises an eyebrow.

“Alright then, I’m done here, just watch my demon and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. See you later,” Hansol says, and turns to exit the apartment.

Seems easy enough, Soonyoung imagines. “You on your way now?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna talk about it after you get back?”

“Nah.”

“Okay. Have fun.” Hansol nods stiffly before ducking away and leaving the apartment wordlessly.

As soon as the front door of the apartment closes, the one leading to the bathroom opens. Soonyoung turns to watch the demon cautiously amble out of the washroom, and they make eye contact for a split second before Minghao opens his mouth to complain.

“My demon,” he sneers under his breath. “MY demon, what the fuck does that asshole think I am? A pet? Bullshit, this is all bullshit.” He stops to flop face first on Hansol’s bed, sighing so loudly Soonyoung almost shushes him. “I hate humans.”

“He’s just trying to deal with the situation,” Soonyoung tries reasoning.

“Well he’s doing a terrible fucking job, isn’t he?” Minghao shoots back, annoyed that not a single person had been on his side this entire time. No one back in his home realm had ever held the amount of disappointment towards him than the humans he’d encountered during this particular trip to Earth, and he wasn’t having it. “Humans are stupid and gross.”

“Not all humans-”

“All fucking humans.” Minghao’s tone is raised, and despite the fact that the he hasn’t moved from his horizontal position on Hansol’s bed, the air in the room shifts. All the colour in the room seems to have dulled and Soonyoung flinches slightly - feeling cramped in and somewhat smaller within the presence of the demon.

“Okay... okay. Humans are disgusting, I agree. I’ll try and be better,” Soonyoung says in a gentler tone, hoping that Minghao will see it as more of a mediating gesture than sarcasm or patronization.

“Fuck you,” Minghao says nonchalantly.

“I’m not here to be an asshole to you. You can come out whenever you’re ready to stop being a brat,” Soonyoung says, completely done with how stubborn and child-like the demon is acting.

It takes Minghao a good forty-five minutes to emerge from the bed and perch himself down on the couch next to Soonyoung, and a further five to mutter a half-assed apology to Soonyoung.

“Sorry for being a bitch.”

“Not your fault. You didn’t ask to come here.”

“Yeah I did, by being born into this fucking mess of a demon body,” Minghao grumbles, agitated and clearly upset by the fact that nothing is going as it usually would for the boy.

“Do you not like it?” Soonyoung asks, not being able to tell whether Minghao’s speaking from frustration or genuine dissatisfaction with his demonic manifestation.

“I do enjoy being what I am, but it’s people like you and your friends that make fulfilling my purpose really fucking difficult.”

Soonyoung doesn’t know how to respond to this, or how to bring himself to be empathetic towards him. Kicking his legs out and standing up, stretching and twisting to pop out his locked joints before grabbing his phone and making his way over to Hansol’s sound system. He plugs the aux cord into the headphone jack and opens up his music app, pressing play on his favourite dance mixtape and beginning to move his body lightly to the beat.

“Do you like dancing?” Soonyoung asks, walking over to Minghao and holding his hand out to him. Tentatively, but with appeal, Minghao takes the larger boy’s outstretched hand and allows him to be yanked out of his seat.

They dance, at first Minghao watching Soonyoung freestyle whilst bopping slightly awkwardly to the beat, before Soonyoung grabs the demon by both hands and shakes them around to loosen him up. After they’re both laughing and Soonyoung’s skin is lightly misted with sweat, Minghao allows himself to let loose and allow his body to flow to the music. He hadn’t danced for a while up until now, and Soonyoung is impressed with how fluid his moves are.

Again, something changes in the air, but unlike the last time the associated physical response isn’t one of fear. As he watches Minghao move, he’s becoming increasingly more intrigued by the boy’s body, and he can feel his body temperature rising even further. Like a paperclip to a magnet, Soonyoung finds himself moving closer and closer to the demon until the space between them is small enough for Minghao to throw his arms over his shoulders, his hands straddling the boy’s slender waist in reciprocity.

Touches turn to caresses and fondling, while swaying from side to side turns into hips undulating, and Minghao spins his body around to grind his ass against Soonyoung’s crotch. The air is thick with heat and lust, and Minghao drags Soonyoung by the collar of his shirt and pushes him backwards onto the couch, leaning down to catch his lips in an immediately heated makeout session.

With Minghao now sat on top of him and straddling his hips between smooth, exposed thighs, Soonyoung can feel his heart beating in his throat as Minghao parts his lips and he slides his tongue into the hollows of his mouth, their tongues connecting in an erotic tango, and sparks fly in the air and through his body. His hands roam high and free upon the plains of Minghao’s body, and he raises his hips to close the space between their already dangerously close crotches. Minghao whines at the light contact, and grinds his cock down on Soonyoung’s. Everything is hot, too hot for Soonyoung to handle given his level of dress, and the first piece of clothing to fall to the floor among them is Soonyoung’s t-shirt.

“You’re so hot,” Minghao whispers between kisses, exhaling hotly against the larger boys’ skin. Soonyoung’s hands work at Minghao’s leather ensemble, and after a grand struggle the boy is left naked for him to see in full. Taking his lip between his teeth, the demon leans right in close to press a tender kiss against Soonyoung’s lips before descending, hands dragging down his stomach and making its way to the bottom of his teeth.

“Fuck,” breathes Soonyoung as Minghao palms him through his jeans. Minghao undoes the top button and slowly drags the zipper down, Soonyoung kicks his shoes off and raises his hips from the couch so Minghao can gently tug both the denim and his boxers off his thighs, his cock springing free ready and hard for Minghao to take in. He’s bigger than the incubus would have thought, but he’s not complaining, and Soonyoung throws his head back and moans the whole way down as Minghao wraps his lips around his cock and slowly takes the entire length in his mouth and down his throat. As Minghao sucks him off, Soonyoung’s hands roam across the area surrounding him, stopping to clutch at Minghao’s hair every once in a while. Eventually, he leaves one hand on Minghao’s head, gently maneuvering him as he fucks his mouth on Soonyoung’s cock, leaving the other resting to the side. He looks down at Minghao the whole time he’s got his cock in his mouth, and Minghao peers up through long lashes at him before drawing back and coming away from his cock with a slight, wet pop sound. Minghao doesn’t get to move before Soonyoung grabs him and unceremoniously throws him onto the couch.

“On your knees,” Soonyoung commands, Minghao obliging immediately. Soonyoung reaches forward to shove two fingers inside Minghao’s mouth to slick them up before placing them at the rim of Minghao’s asshole, fingers lightly pressing in as Minghao whines and rocks back, needing him deeper. Placing his free hand on Minghao’s ass to spread his cheeks open wider, Soonyoung works both fingers into Minghao’s asshole, speeding up and curling his fingers deep inside as Minghao loosens up until he can accept another finger in. By the time Soonyoung could add a fourth, Minghao’s practically pushing his ass on and off Soonyoung’s fingers and already groaning like he could come from this alone, but Soonyoung stops him and draws his hand from inside the boy.

“Fuck me, God, please,” Minghao begs, unable to wait any longer, and he yelps out loudly when Soonyoung cracks one hand across his asscheeks.

“Just wait,” he says, leaning in to plaster kisses across the small of his back and over the reddening skin he’d administered a harsh slap to just moments ago. The feeling of Soonyoung’s soft lips grazing feather-light over his tender, irritated skin is an entirely new sensation, and just like that he’s losing his clutch and whining out pleas for Soonyoung to hurry up.

Soonyoung knows he’s been holding off on actually fucking Minghao for long enough, and with one last kiss to the boy’s reddened flesh he straightens and positions himself on his knees, aligning his hips with Minghao’s. Smoothing one hand down Minghao’s back and using the other to grip his length, he positions his cock head at Minghao’s prepared hole, and slowly eases into the boy.

“F-fuck, Minghao, you’re so tight,” Soonyoung mutters, biting back the urge to groan loudly as he begins rocking his hips forwards and backwards. “You look so cute, all pretty and exposed underneath me…”

“I-I-augh, you’re so big…” Minghao starts before being cut off mid-moan by Soonyoung suddenly thrusting home and forcing his body forwards. Soonyoung leans forward to lie his abdomen flat against Minghao’s back, hugging his waist close to him and resting his head on Minghao’s shoulder. After sucking a few bites into Minghao’s neck, he reaches around Minghao’s stomach and takes the boy’s swollen cock into his hand, pumping along the length a few times while the demon writes and yelps, breathing unstable from the double stimulation. Sucking a few bites into the skin around Minghao’s ear, Soonyoung catches a lobe between his teeth and drags it out slowly before whispering in the boy’s ear.

“Tell me what you want,” and Minghao wastes no time in replying.

“Want you… Want you to fuck me… God, it’s so big-”

“Such immodest language.”

“Please, I want to c-come - ngh…”

Soonyoung didn’t want to risk Hansol coming home and finding the two of them naked on his couch with his cock buried to the hilt in Minghao’s ass, and sets his hips off at an unrelenting pace. He grabs Minghao’s hair and pulls his head back so Minghao’s sounds of pleasure can rebound from the walls instead of being soaked up by the material of the couch. Startled by the sudden jerking back of his head, he lets out a multitude of broken moans while Soonyoung continues to hold their bodies close as he fucks Minghao - his vision blurring and heart rate skyrocketing as his pleasure builds. Minghao can feel heat pooling in his stomach, and when Soonyoung’s cock starts hitting his prostate he sees stars and his vision blanks out from overstimulation.

“I’m so close, fuck, Soonyoung, don’t stop…”

Soonyoung worked his hips over for minutes more, no longer watching or listening to Minghao’s reactions until a final, fucked-out and ecstatic scream falls from the lips of the boy underneath him, and he feels the younger twitching as he comes all over the couch in thick, hot, white spurts. Craving his release more than he’s ever wanted anything in his entire life, Soonyoung kept going, thrusting on and on and over until his cock is ensheathed right to the base in Minghao’s ass, spilling his seed hot and deep right against the boy’s prostate. Together, they rode out the high of their orgasm until Soonyoung pulled out of Minghao and sat the boy back onto his lap, kissing away all remaining lust until they were both zen and laughing in the aftermath of their intimacy.

“Hansol’s probably on his way home now, we should get this cleaned up,” Soonyoung suggests, still dazed and soaring from orgasm. For now, he couldn’t say that he would particularly mind any person at all walking in on them.

“Yeah, he’s on the bus right now. I can handle this.” Soonyoung cocks his brow at the specificness of the statement.

“How do you…”

“I’m a demon, remember?”

“Right.”

Soonyoung sits on the couch, watching Minghao magically remove the sweat and semon from the tarnished textiles, as well as siphon away the humid musk of the air mingled with their scents and sweat in the air. He expects distress to set in, considering what he just did, but all he feels is a strange sense of peace while he watches the beautiful entity in front of him reset the apartment to how it was before they’d near defiled the space in their coitus.

“You should take a shower,” Minghao suggests. “I can clean this place however much I want but it’ll be a dead giveaway if you’re sitting there looking like that.” Soonyoung cranes his neck to look at himself in the mirror on the wall above Hansol’s shoe cabinet, and realizes that Minghao’s right.

“Good idea,” he agrees, and swiftly disappears into Hansol’s bathroom.

As the water runs over his body, washing away the sweat and sebum of the day, the realization of what he’d just done sinks in, but instead of feeling panic like the other boys did, a wave of calm and satisfaction overcomes his senses.

He steps out of the shower, breathes in the cool air filtered out by none other than Minghao himself,and allows himself a wide grin. Despite how all his other friends thought about keeping him around, Soonyoung knew for sure that he would enjoy having Minghao here to stay.

Chapter Text

Hansol spends almost half an hour lugging his new microwave and bag of groceries from the bus stop back up to his apartment - cursing himself for buying the microwave before his food and for not having a job well-paid enough to get him a car, or an apartment in a complex with elevators. As he pauses for what feels like the thousandth time to wipe sweat from his brow and rest his arms and lungs, he’s reminded for ten times more so that Minghao and Soonyoung are still in his apartment; alone and completely foreign to one another. In hindsight, bringing Minghao out with him might have helped him reacclimatize to the human world faster, and he wouldn’t have had to force Soonyoung out of the practice room the way he had. He didn’t want to be so frustrated with him, given his own experiences with drastic environmental changes, but the microwave incident was enough to set him sick of the demon - and the fact that Minghao’s essentially under his custody.

Another pause, and Hansol’s seriously considering a new job so he can afford shipping and delivery and no longer have to carry any and all new furniture back up to his house in the way he had been since first moving in. He decides against trying to call Soonyoung again to check up on them, but he’d let every call go through to voicemail since the first time Hansol had rung. Happy-go-lucky as Soonyoung might be, he’s still a decently responsible guy, and that leaving Minghao under his care was better than no care at all.

God knows what they’ve gotten up to back there, he wonders as he continues up the stairs, motivated only by his overwhelming need to get back and make sure Minghao hasn’t fucked his apartment up any further.

After another fifteen minutes or so of physical toil, he reaches his floor. His hands shake so badly from the physical exertion of holding the box to the point where he fumbles with his keys several times before managing to unlock his front door, practically tumbling inside to land on his back and flop out on the wooden floorboards; happy to finally be home.

The first thing he notices is Soonyoung laying spread-eagled on the couch bed, and Minghao nowhere to be seen. He assumes that Minghao’s still hiding in the bathroom, but with Soonyoung’s physical and emotional state, something’s not quite adding up.

“Hey Hansol,” Soonyoung says with an ear-to-ear grin in a cheery, dopey voice. Hansol’s eyes flit over to focus on his older friend, throwing him a weird look at the prompt of his uncharacteristically whimsy behavior.

“The fuck’s up with you?”

“Don’t have to be so snappy, do we?”

“Whatever. Help me set up my new microwave.”

“Alright, pipsqueak.”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that today.”

“You’re still legally underage.”

“Fuck you,” Hansol replies mundanely to Soonyoung making a mockery out of his age again. Groaning, he heaves himself off the ground and winces at the all-too-familiar weighted pain spiking through his arms as he picks up his new microwave and sets it on the bench of his kitchenette. “Get off your ass and do this with me.”

“Fine, fine,” Soonyoung says, still not sounding as serious as Hansol would like him to.

The night passes in a pleasant slowness; Hansol and Soonyoung finish setting up the microwave, Soonyoung watches Hansol cook spaghetti and they eat it at the breakfast bar ( “What do you mean you don’t eat human food?” Soonyoung asks Minghao), and they end the day by deciding to settle down on the couch bed and watch a movie together - Minghao included.

“Let’s watch Horns, yeah?” Hansol suggests, hooking up his laptop to his TV and searching pirate film websites for the movie.

“Sure thing, I don’t really mind,” Soonyoung says, slinging an arm over Minghao’s shoulders with a borderline sleazy grin. Hansol’s glad Soonyoung isn’t intimidated by Minghao - as much as he knows he should be getting used to being in close proximity to the demon, he really didn’t want to. He was glad Soonyoung was there to act as a barrier, even if he hadn’t asked for it.

“I haven’t watched a movie in years,” Minghao quietly admits.

“The hell do you do in your demon land to pass the time then?”

Minghao shrugs. “Talk to each other? We don’t have internet.”

“Sounds like shit.”

“Don’t say that when half the fucked up stuff in your world happens because of overexposure.” Soonyoung shuts up, and Hansol starts playing the movie.

Halfway through the movie, Hansol falls asleep on Soonyoung’s shoulder, and Minghao hasn’t moved an inch - or even so much as expressed an outwards emotion - the entire duration of the film so far. Soonyoung yawns long and hard, and with it he decides to clock out for the night. He switches off the TV, plugs Hansol’s laptop in to charge, switches off the light, and crawls back into bed after repositioning Hansol more comfortably.

“Don’t tell me sleep isn’t a thing where you come from too,” Soonyoung half-jokes, and Minghao laughs.

“I’m still part human, I need to rest sometimes,” he teases back, and they exchange smiles again before Soonyoung lays his down to rest. Within minutes Soonyoung succumbs to sleep, his arm slung across Hansol’s abdomen.

Next to the two sleeping boys, Minghao lies awake, and when he knows the two are sleeping, he carefully steps out of the bed and stands up slowly, making sure the ground beneath him makes no noise.

He knows he shouldn’t be leaving on his own terms without his summoners knowing again - Hansol, especially, but with ten contractors, he wants to get the job done with as fast as he possibly can without severely fucking up their lives. In the darkness of the night, he slips out of the apartment soundlessly, and allows himself to stand openly and unshielded at the gates of the apartment complex for a few minutes. He breathes in the cool air of the night, pondering on which of his seven remaining contractors he should consult next. As he singles the list down to a face and vague remembrance of the name associated, just as he had just a few days ago, he begins to walk; letting his feet guide him this way and that to the long-haired pretty boy he more than knows he wouldn’t mind getting a taste of.

“I’m going to the mall, are either of you gonna use the car today?”

“Dude, seriously? You’ve been on what, three shopping trips already this week. Give your wallet a break, Jeonghan,” replies his thoroughly annoyed flatmate, Seungcheol. The bob-haired man simply shrugs, brushing a strand of his long bangs out of his face as he slings a light jacket over his shoulders. He’d been picking up and covering shifts at work left right and center, and his bank account was fat with money he didn’t otherwise need for rent, bills, and food.

“I’m taking that as a no, then. Want me to grab any essentials on the way home?” Jeonghan asks.

"We’re out of ice cream,” Jisoo shouts from within his own room.

“Alright. Anything else, Jesus Boy?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Says you now, two days after praying your ass off when that demon first sprang up at Jun and Wonwoo’s.”

“Fuck you man, I was desperate and terrified.”

“Whatever you say. I’m leaving now, see you guys tonight. Don’t forget that you’re cooking tonight, Hong.” He quickly fixes his hair again and double checks that he has everything before swiftly exiting the front door and jogging down the drive to their shared car.

He unlocks the car and gets in the driver’s seat, and immediately after sitting down notices a strange lack of suspension to the car he wasn’t expecting to feel - almost as if he wasn’t alone in the car. Deciding it’s just his imagination playing with him, he shrugs it off and starts the car, reversing out of the driveway and setting off on his drive to the mall.

Ten minutes into the commute, he feels a breeze waft across the skin of his neck at a red light. His hand moves to the door to reel the window up, head bopping to the music streaming through the car’s speakers, but stills suddenly when he doesn’t hear the usual ‘bump’ of the window coming to a stop when it fully closes.

“Huh?” Jeonghan murmurs, spinning in his seat to look behind him before winding the window down to stick his head out and look around outside. He hears a car horn honk at him from behind, and he turns to see the light’s turned green and all the cars ahead of him in the lane had long since driven on. Retracting his head quickly and hitting the gas, he gathers himself as he accelerates forward, mind working at full speed in convincing himself that it was nothing and he’s overreacting. Throughout the rest of the drive it happens twice more, and with each occurrence, his anxiety grows. When he finally arrives at the mall, he drives around the parking lot at twice the allotted speed limit in hopes of finding a park faster so he can get out of the car before anything weirder happens.

He enters the mall and breathes a sigh of slight relief, though in the pit of his stomach he still can’t shake the feeling that he’s being followed. He glances down to his phone at the list he’d made earlier of all the stores he wants to visit and things he’s looking to buy, allowing himself to feel comfort at the fact that he came on the least busy day of the week. He always hated having to wait around and pester staff for assistance. Picking a store at random, he sets off to begin his third retail therapy day of the week.

As expected, the weird occurrences followed him around the shopping center. Some were mildly annoying at worst, whereas others left him so embarrassed he had to leave the store he was perusing flushed scarlet red and panicking to go calm down in the mall bathrooms. Several times he pulls out his phone to call someone, but he doesn’t know who. Jisoo? Seungcheol? The police? Not that any of the three would believe him - much less bring him any less emotional comfort.

It’s when Jeonghan is in the fitting room of a niche, avant-garde modern fashion store trying on pre-fall sale items that he’s taken completely off guard. One second, he’d been perusing fall coats and semi-formal dress shirts, holding up a particularly nice deep green silken button down, when he hears it.

“I don’t think that suits your hair color.”

Jeonghan yelps and spins towards the source of the whisper, and jolts backward into a rack of clothing.

“Jesus fucking Christ, what are you doing here?” Jeonghan whisper-shouts, hand clutching at his heart as he gapes at the boy who’d seemingly materialized out of thin air.

“Just so you know, I’m invisible and inaudible to everyone on the face of this Earth except you right now, so you kinda look like you’re talking to yourself at this current moment.”

Fuck , Jeonghan curses internally, and grabs his newly apparated plus-one, careening the two of them into a fitting room and locking the door at the speed of light.

“Minghao, what do you want? And why the hell are you walking around dressed like that? ” Jeonghan questions, motioning in the general direction of the demon’s usual leather ensemble.

The boy simply stands plainly and shrugs, but Jeonghan can spot out the tell-tale signs that he’d been grinning like the Cheshire Cat just moments ago. In a play of innocence, he rocks on his heels and plays with his own hands. Jeonghan knows he’s acting, but lets the kid have his grand moment.

“Guess I’m just a bit bored. Hansol’s not much,” he answers, trailing off at the end of the sentence in an attempt at feigned vacancy.

“So you decided to stalk me to my house, distract me while driving, ruin my shopping trip, and now make me look like a complete idiot in front of God knows how many more people today?”

“Sounds about right.”

Jeonghan huffs, an irritated smirk rising to his features along with the resentment he’s now also harboring.

“No wonder no one wanted to take you in, you’re a pain in the ass.”

“That might be true, but in the end I’ll always be the one with the painful ass.” Jeonghan swears he can feel bile rising in his throat at that, but he shakes it off.

“Not a fact I needed to know about, but whatever. So what’s your plan now that you’ve actually decided to show your face to me?”

“I don’t know.”

Jeonghan raises his arms to hold his head in both hands and sigh loudly at how much messier his day had gotten since Minghao had revealed himself, and figures that letting him tag along might not be the worst idea he could ever come up with.

“You can just stick around with me then,” Jeonghan offers. Minghao perks up and smiles adorably, and Jeonghan’s heart gives way slightly.

He can’t tell if the demon’s being genuine or not, but something about the mixed aura of his appearance commands Jeonghan to go easy on him, and from there on he does. For the entire rest of the shopping trip, Minghao tags along - invisible to everyone but Jeonghan - and helps Jeonghan pick out clothing; even offering up opinions on some of the pieces he tries on. At one point, Jeonghan even starts picking out clothing for Minghao as well, and they laugh at how they look with Minghao’s monotonous black leather outfit.

“So can people who don’t summon you see them?”

“Only if I let them.”

“You don’t let them see you like that , do you?”

“Well… yeah.”

“No way. Let me buy you some clothes.”

Hours later, Minghao and Jeonghan walk out of the mall holding bags upon bags of new clothing - Minghao now wearing a neat flannel button-down with dark wash fitted skinny jeans and pristine, white Superstar sneakers. As he strolls down the carpark, any passerby looking at Minghao would not take him to be anything more than a young (albeit wealthy) college student, and he holds his head high in awareness of his own beauty. Jeonghan suddenly feels bleak in comparison to the radiant boy walking at his side. Ever since he was a child he’d put great pride into making himself beautiful, but even that pales in comparison to the natural allure he can feel constantly radiating from Minghao. As much as his ego allowed him to, Jeonghan has to admit that there was no way he’d ever come close to Minghao in the way of pure, natural beauty.

On the way home, Minghao spends the majority of the car ride asking Jeonghan questions about the human world, and what he’d missed between now and the last time he was here. He asks about traffic rules, about things he sees through the window - and even dabbles in light political conversation. Jeonghan loosens and loosens still the more Minghao talks to him, almost as if he enjoyed listening to the boy speak. By the end of the drive Jeonghan’s so encaptured by Minghao that when they walk back into his apartment together, the fact that that Joshua and Seungcheol are home completely slips Jeonghan’s mind.

Luckily for him, they’re not in the living room. Unluckily for him, he can hear various noises coming from Seungcheol’s room - and so can Minghao, who’s suppressing a massive ear-to-ear grin.

“Something up between those flatmates of yours?” he jests, trying and completely failing to hide his amusement.

“Yeah. Seungcheol’s in med school and Joshua’s doing law with honors. They’re very-”

Thump.

“... pent up with stressful studies.”

“I can see that,” Minghao says slowly, and a chill jets its way down Jeonghan’s spine. His legs almost give way, but he catches himself. Through weak eyelids, Jeonghan watches Minghao from across the room as he picks up a carrot with a few diagonal slices taken off the top end off a chopping board in the kitchen, and eyes it up. Long fingers grasp around the end of the vegetable to stroke down over the tip several times, and Jeonghan can’t tear his eyes away. “Why don’t you show me your bedroom?”

His feet wander this way and that until Jeonghan finds himself standing dead center in the middle of his bedroom while Minghao shuts - and locks - the door behind them before proceeding to trace the perimeter of the bedroom, observing all the posters and art pieces Jeonghan has on display in the space.

“Cute,” Minghao states, eyeing up a particularly interesting poster above Jeonghan’s desk about the difference between the left and right brain. “Psychology, I assume?”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan replies nervously. “Art history too,” he adds, pointing at the collection of small prints of famous paintings above the headboard of his bed.

“Interesting.”

Jeonghan inhales deeply and finds the air becoming increasingly thicker as he breathes in. Not so much in a humid sense, but more so his own lungs weakening. Minghao casts tiny glances in his direction as he continues to wander around the room, opening shelves and peeking around in ways no normal human being ever would or should. He opens his mouth to tell Minghao to stop, but he quickly retracts when no sound leaves his throat, nor can his limbs move from the position he’d been standing in the entire time he and the demon had been in his room. Jeonghan is relieved he still has his thoughts to himself, and he knows that whatever’s happening to him and his body in this moment is not of his own choosing.

Minghao draws near his closet - and as if a switch had been flicked inside him, his heart rate doubles, bringing out a smirk in the demon.

Shit , Jeonghan curses in his head.

“Let’s look in here, shall we?” the demon announces, right when Jeonghan thought his pulse couldn’t speed up any more. As Minghao swings the door out, he squeezes his eyes shut and beats out a long string of silent requests to whatever gods might be listening to him in the moment.

Please don’t let him look inside, please don’t let him rummage through, please don’t let him look into the far right corner, please don’t let him open the box…

“Aha,” Minghao exclaims, and Jeonghan hears the shuffling of hands on cardboard, of cardboard against fabric, of his dignity slowly shedding one paper-thin layer at a time. He cracks one eyelid open and confirms the horror that is Minghao carrying the storage-sized box across his room and placing it down on the bed, perching himself next to it and gently lifting the folds enclosing the contents.

His eyes widen and a smile spreads across the demon’s face upon sight the contents hidden within the box. A delicate hand reaches in and gently pulls out the first thing he notices - an anal plug with a long, fluffy faux fox tail attached to the end, beaming as he turns the toy in his hand in observation. Gently, he rifles through all of Jeonghan’s toys - of which by the time he’s moved the box off the bed, he’s left out a string of anal beads, a set of fleece-lined leather wrist and ankle restraints, a ball gag, a peacock feather, and a cock ring.

“Come here,” Minghao demands with utmost authority. Jeonghan’s legs move on their own, and Minghao stands to meet him at the side of the bed. Slowly, Minghao leans in to press a soft kiss and leans back, stopping when a loud moan from next door escapes of the mouth of whom Jeonghan assumes to be Jisoo. The two boys make eye contact, both harboring half-hard cocks and the same idea.

“Your friends sound like they’re having fun.”

“They usually are.”

“What say we do better?”

Jeonghan suddenly feels himself regain control over his body and dives forward to grab Minghao by the waist and catch his lips in an immediately intense makeout session. Minghao’s hands raise to wrap around Jeonghan’s neck and he pulls the two of them backward so that Minghao’s laying back on the bed with Jeonghan’s wide frame encompassing his small body. Jeonghan pulls away from Minghao’s lips to shed his jacket and tug his shirt over his head, and together, they begin to peel away Minghao’s outfit away from his skin. Before long the young demon is fully exposed, half-hard and ready for Jeonghan to ravish,

“Lay down in the center of my bed,” Jeonghan orders. “I’m going to restrain you now.” Minghao does exactly as he is told, and offers up his arms first to be secured to the headboard. Jeonghan takes two of the leather restraints and affixes Minghao to the bed first by his wrists, then his ankles. Minghao’s cock is now fully hard and laying flat against his stomach, slowly leaking precum. Jeonghan gags Minghao, before retrieving the peacock feather and beginning play.

Minghao moans as he feels the tip of the feather lightly run down the center line of his torso and cranes his neck to watch Jeonghan’s motions, trailing loops and circles across his lower stomach but avoiding his cock. His belly is flushed scarlet and already he’s whimpering from the sensations coming from Jeonghan, who knows exactly what he’s doing, and already has his course of action planned.

“Tell me, how does that feel?” Jeonghan asks Minghao, knowing full well he can’t answer due to the gag in his mouth. Minghao simply allows himself a guttural keen, before closing his eyes and letting his head fall back to the bed so he can bask in the pleasure Jeonghan’s ministrations are bringing him.

“That’s good to hear.”

“ Hnnnf ,” is all Minghao can muffle in response. Jeonghan chuckles and swats the feather off Minghao’s upper right thigh before placing it aside and switching it for the cock ring. Minghao emits a high pitched squeal upon seeing it again, limply bouncing his head off the bed as Jeonghan slips it over his cock and tightens it as he sees fit. His head bobs down to leave a soft kitten lick over the purpling cock head and Minghao sees stars as he feels his cock swell almost painfully at the lack of circulation.

Jeonghan leans away and returns with the anal beads. Minghao lifts his ass per Jeonghan’s request, who wedges an arm underneath the small of Minghao’s back and circles his hole with one spit-slicked finger. After a few minutes of teasing he presses the first bead into Minghao’s entrance, bathing in Minghao’s sounds of sexual indulgence as the rest of them follow. After inserting all the beads, Jeonghan abandons the string of balls inside Minghao’s ass and moves to his neglected cock, wrapping a hand loosely around the reddened tip and stroking down, then up just once. It’s enough to get Minghao mewling loudly through the ball gag, and Jeonghan grins cheekily as he tightens his grip and begins to jerk him off more consistently.

“ Hnn hh-hn hnn… ” Minghao attempts to vocalize through the ball between his teeth, but even without him saying so Jeonghan knows what’s about to happen: I’m gonna come .

Minghao’s moans louden and quicken, and his hips cant upwards into Jeonghan’s hand as he nears his release; and in one cruel movement, as Minghao just reaches his tipping point, he releases Minghao’s cock from his hand, and the demon cries out in outright resentment.

Jeonghan does this a few more times - bring Minghao to the edge and then leave him to come back down right at the point of release - before releasing Minghao’s ankles and detaching his wrists from the headboard; fixing them behind his back, instead. The poor, tortured demon almost cries when Jeonghan frees his mouth from the gag and doesn’t even talk at first so that Jeonghan doesn’t try to put it back on him.

“Please…. can’t take this anymore… want your cock…” Minghao slurs, head lolling the side from exhaustion.

“Of course, you’ve been so good,” Jeonghan praises. “Be patient though, we gotta get these beads out first. Ass up.” Minghao obliges, and Jeonghan gets to work extracting the beads one by one from within Minghao’s hole, and the demon cries out loudly with every ‘pop’ of the beads pushing past his stubborn rim.

“Cock, want your cock,” Minghao begs after he feels the last bead exit his body. Jeonghan pulls Minghao up and onto his knees, positioning the boy between his own. Jeonghan’s grabs his cock in one hand and secures Minghao against him with the other, lining up his length with Minghao’s entrance. In one swift movement, Jeonghan thrusts upwards into Minghao, and the boy moans like a whore the entire time it takes for Jeonghan to fully sheathe his cock inside Minghao’s asshole.

“I want to hear everything ,” Jeonghan demands, beginning to move at a moderate pace. Minghao moans every time Jeonghan’s hips collide with his ass, his cock loosely flopping up and down with each thrust.

“It’s so m-much, I- nngh , I’m gonna come, oh my god…”

“Not until I say so.”

Minghao’s yelling out at being denied the right to come, and Jisoo and Seungcheol - of whom usually wake Jeonghan up in the middle of the night - are almost inaudible compared to the two of them. Neither of them know how they’re doing, if they’re put off by the sounds coming from their room, or if they’re getting off to Minghao’s sounds of pleasure.

“Can you hear them next door?” Jeonghan asks the demon, who’s now lifting his ass and sitting down on Jeonghan’s cock in tandem with the movement of the larger boy’s hips.

“Yeah,” Minghao breathes out. “They’re talking about me. Seungcheol’s got th-three fingers in Jisoo’s ass.”

“Holy shit,” Jeonghan murmurs underneath his breath, speeding up the pace of his hips still while Minghao’s asshole clenches and relaxes around his cock. The heat in the room is unbearable and the sweat clinging to both boys’ skin making the slap of skin on skin more erotic than it’d previously already been. Jeonghan can feel all the signs arising of Minghao nearing the edge, and decides against making him hold off for now. His hand reaches around to stroke Minghao’s reddened, glistening, neglected cock hard and fast, and the boy curls in on himself, screaming profanities and unintelligible speech barely reminiscent of his euphoric cries from earlier.

“I can’t hold off any longer, I’m gonna c-come-”

“That’s okay, sweetheart, just let it out. On my count: Three, two, one .”

Completely in time with Jeonghan’s countdown, Minghao comes, shooting cum up across his stomach and even hitting his own face. Jeonghan grabs Minghao’s head to turn it around for a kiss, and not long after, Jeonghan reaches his peak and unloads his release inside Minghao. A whole new wave of pleasure and satisfaction washes over Minghao as he feels the warm, sticky liquid fill up his insides, and they ride out the highs of their orgasms together, Jeonghan remaining in Minghao’s ass until he’s half soft and can feel his own come begin to drip down out of the smaller boy’s hole. He brings a hand down to feel around where he and Minghao are still connected before raising his fingers to Minghao’s lips and allowing the boy to lick the come off Jeonghan’s fingers. Soon after, he pulls out to collapse onto his bed - Minghao following suit, laying on his side next to Jeonghan and peppering light kisses across his shoulder and the side of his neck. Neither speak or try to move, choosing to spend the rest of the night together in bed. They listen to Jisoo and Seungcheol in the room next door, during which Minghao gives Jeonghan a blowjob while Jeonghan fingers Minghao’s ass until they come all over each other once again.

“So what am I gonna tell Hansol in the morning when he sees I’m not there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you won’t have to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeonghan shrugs. “You could always walk back to his place,” he suggests.

“You’re kidding me,” Minghao protests.

“Not really. If you go back and we act like this never happened we can spare Hansol a boat load of worry. Junhui too, since those two are like blood siblings.”

Minghao has a think about it. He doesn’t usually like to play it safe like this, but he feels it’s probably one of the more sensible things to do - especially after the last time he’d snuck out, and how well that went.

“Alright then,” he agrees, pulling himself up and jumping off the bed to pull on his leather set. He spends a few minutes in Jeonghan’s ensuite bathroom to make sure he doesn’t look too conspicuous, and bodes his latest contractor a light-hearted farewell before leaving the apartment.

Luckily, it’s still very dark outside, and the walk back to Hansol’s apartment took less time than expected due to the lack of pedestrian and vehicle traffic while crossing the city to get to his host’s building.

When he arrives, he warps through the front door and slowly, quietly walks over to the bed where Hansol and Soonyoung lie, still asleep and splayed out in strange, awkward-limbed positions. He stares down at them a while, wondering when his job here will be done and when he can rejoin the world he knows is waiting for him to return.

Reluctantly, Minghao gently slips back under the covers and lifts Soonyoung’s arm to place it around his waist - and with an ache in his heart, he falls asleep to the sound of clock arms ticking and the gentle beating of the two boys’ hearts.

Chapter Text

"Fuck this! Fuck saving lives, fuck everything. I hate being a med student.”

“Calm down Seungcheol, throwing your shit everywhere won’t help you pass your midterms.”

The older boy looks down at the younger quietly and calmly studying with his notes spread out neatly in front of him, all existing anger burning hellfire at the sight before his eyes. How could he just sit there so peacefully while I’m here freaking out? he thinks, opening his mouth to shout yet again - this time directed straight at the soft, honey-brown haired boy.

“What the fuck do you know? Every day I come home from campus to see your ass sitting here all relaxed and shit, and you never seem to have stress at all. Do you have any idea how badly I want your lifestyle? Your schedule?”

“Well duh, my degree doesn’t require for me to physically save lives, of course it’ll be less stressful. But that doesn’t mean I’m not working as hard as you are.”

“Psh, you can say that again.”

“My de-”

“Shut the fuck up, Jisoo.”

The boy looks up from his papers, offence clear in his eyes and expression. The outburst had taken him completely by surprise - his initial reaction being of one of extreme shock. He knew Seungcheol (his flatmate and friend) was always under stress and usually didn’t have a problem with him yelling, but this was the first time he’d been yelled at by him.

“Are you attacking me right now?” Jisoo asks in disbelief.

“Damn fucking right I am. You pretentious law students always prance around in your business attire sitting in court meetings and attending fucking jury duty for extra credit, how could I not be bitter? I have to handle blood and other fucking body fluids all day and even then I’m hardly making the grade boundaries, let alone having any energy to do extra credit activities. I don’t get why you have the easy work and I’ve got a mountain of shit on my back!”

Jisoo can only blink at Seungcheol with how shocked he is at being accused of being nothing more than a ‘pretentious law student.’

“Our specialities are different, Cheol, you just can’t compare them like that. You think I don’t struggle sometimes? You think jury duty is all I have to do to bump up my grades? You think prancing around in business attire is the only thing we do all day? I’ve never seen you this bitter this entire time we’ve been living together.”

“You never worked through high school, your “gifted student scholarship” was gained through all those private tutors your folks paid for to get you here, you’re a spoilt kid who’s known no hardship whatsoever and everyone loves you because you’re attractive. Get. That. In. Your. Head.”

Jisoo knows he should be mad, but he can’t get what Seungcheol had just said out of his mind. In the midst of their argument, he finds his expression changing from irritated to curious.

“You… think I’m attractive?”

“Of fucking course I do, why else would I be fighting your ass right now? I’m jealous of everything you have. I’m jealous that everyone looks at you when we’re out together, I’m jealous that everything seems to be perfect for you while I’m agonizing. I'm jealous that you've always had it so easy, but the worst part is I know I can't be mad because it wasn't your choice. God, I hate you so much.”

Two pairs of deep brown eyes stare deeply into the other, all disdain dissipating as all the electricity in the room condenses in a field around the two boys. In a silent exchange of emotions and thoughts - just like in a Hollywood cliche - the two close the space between them; their lips meeting in a fiery, heated, passionate kiss, skin prickling with fire as hands roam and hearts pound within burdened chests.

“You’re an asshole,” Jisoo moans against Seungcheol’s lips, hands working their way up Seungcheol’s sides and chest to link around his neck as Seungcheol’s hands found themselves at Jisoo’s ass.

“Up,” Seungcheol commands. Jisoo obliges, pulling his face from the older boy’s and jumping upwards without disconnecting his arms from where they encircle Seungcheol. He wraps his legs around Seungcheol’s waist, rough hands coming up under his ass to support his weight all while their lips reconnect and never leave one another.

Together, Seungcheol walks them to his bedroom where he unceremoniously dumps Jisoo on his bed before running his hands right up Jisoo’s abdomen underneath his shirt, desperate to get his hands on younger boy’s flawless and brazen skin. With his submission silently established by the way his body falls into position on the bed, Jisoo looks up at Seungcheol through alluring cat-eyes, entrancing the elder - almost feeling as if he’ll never get close enough to Jisoo for comfort. As Seungcheol moves to close the space between them Jisoo crawls back on the bed, so that when they meet in the middle their bodies have maximal space for what they know is about to happen.

“Fuck, look at you,” Seungcheol exclaims in between kisses, running his hands over Jisoo’s smooth thighs. “God really did a good job here, didn’t he?”

“You know I’m not that religious,” Jisoo responds, smirking against Seungcheol’s lips at the old joke.

“Well let’s hope Father’s okay with me roughing you until you forget your own name, then,” Seungcheol growls lowly, working quickly to rid Jisoo of his clothing.

Once Jisoo’s completely naked, half-hard length and everything on show for Seungcheol’s hungry eyes, Seungcheol places one hand gently in the center of the younger boy’s chest and slowly drags it down his abdomen - stopping just past Jisoo’s navel to trail one fingertip down the short strip of fine hair leading to his cock.

“Nggh, stop teasing me…” Jisoo whines, hips bucking upwards into Seungcheol’s touch - and when Seungcheol finally grips hold of his almost fully hardened cock, it sends electricity spiking in every direction within him. He moved with hand Seungcheol had wrapped around him, noises wet and slick from precum. Seungcheol doesn’t speed up, and Jisoo doesn’t complain. With every up and down motion of Seungcheol’s hand over his cock, Jisoo feels the stress built up in his chest ebbing away and being replaced by pleasure in his core.

When Seungcheol releases Jisoo’s cock to begin unbuttoning his shirt Jisoo gets to work on his jeans, feasting his eyes upon Seungcheol’s thick length when it springs free from his underwear. He pushes Seungcheol down with both hands, clumsy in his lust, kissing and sucking down Seungcheol’s abs - further and further down until his head hovered above the elder’s cock.

“Fuck, Jisoo, yes.”

Jisoo could feel every breath emanating from within Seungcheol’s lungs and, as a test, he nudges the tip of Seungcheol’s cock with his slightly parted lips. When Seungcheol moans, Jisoo smiles, teasing gradually until his shallow movements turned into bobbing his head up and down and licking patterns along the underside of Seungcheol’s cock, all the while his hand moves slowly and leisurely over his own.

“This isn’t enough,” Seungcheol complains despite the pleasure Jisoo’s mouth was inflicting upon him. His hands fly to Jisoo’s hair, holding his head down, and as quick as lightning he begins to snap his hips upwards; fucking his cock against the walls of Jisoo’s throat as the smaller boy cries out loudly with each thrust.

“Nggf,” Jisoo mumbles, tears squeezing their way from the corners of his eyes as he begins jacking his cock off in tandem with the movement of Seungcheol’s hips as he fucks his throat raw. Seungcheol pulls out of Jisoo’s mouth a few minutes later, leaving the latter gasping for air, salty droplets finally falling on his cheeks as Seungcheol picks him up and manhandles him so that his head is resting on the pillow and his body easily accessible for both his eyes and his own frame. He straddles him and swoops down to kiss the smaller boy once, tender and rough simultaneously, before taking one of Jisoo’s ankles in each hand and spreading his legs, cock jumping at how easily Jisoo’s thighs fall apart for him - feasting his eyes upon the small, pink hole he’s mere seconds away from stretching around his fingers.

Jisoo doesn’t try to hold back his sounds of pleasure when Seungcheol sticks two fingers inside his mouth to slick them up, before pressing one against his tight hole - slowly working past his rim and slowly sliding in with ease afterwards. One finger becomes two, then three, and soon enough Jisoo cries out in pleasure as Seungcheol curls his fingers inside him to brush against his prostate, digging his fingernails into his own thighs in an iron grip as Seungcheol runs his hands over his stomach in soothing circles while the other fucks in and out of the smaller boy’s asshole mercilessly.

“Stop, p-please, just f-fuck me already,” Jisoo stammers brokenly, desperation palpable as he groans out in pleasure and want. Seungcheol’s eyes flit up to Jisoo’s face - wrenched up in an almost pained expression as he pants heavily in time with his hand moving in and out of him.

He pulls his fingers out of Jisoo’s hole after a particularly brutal attack on his prostate, making the boy yelp loudly. He pretends to inspect Jisoo’s hole, adopting a patronizing tone in his voice when he speaks. “Hmm, I don’t know if you’re ready yet…”

“I am, please, just fuck me, want your cock so bad-”

“Shh, tonight I know your body best. Let me do as I please.”

“N-no, Seungcheol, I’m ready, I’m so ready - please, just fuck me no-”

Jisoo is cut off by several harsh slaps across the back of his thighs before he feels Seungcheol kneel upright on the bed and position his body between his legs. He glances at the cock standing proudly between his thighs - proud and thick and still shining with precum and Jisoo’s spit.

“Alright, you asked for it,” is Seungcheol says - and in the blink of an eye, Jisoo is screaming out as Seungcheol positions his cock at his hole and begins thrusting home at an alarming pace, all within the space of mere seconds.

The slapping of Seungcheol’s skin against Jisoo’s skin was loud and rapid, and Jisoo found the knot already wound up in his stomach already coming undone. He could tell from the get-go that Seungcheol wouldn’t last long either, each movement ending in a groan or whimper from Jisoo.

“So c-close already…” Jisoo breathes out between Seungcheol’s fierce ministrations upon his body.

“Me too,” grunts Seungcheol. Jisoo says nothing, but notices the way his movements are faltering and gradually becoming more and more imprecise.

Seungcheol simply kept pounding into Jisoo’s ass - and when he found an angle that allowed him to plough into Jisoo’s prostate with each thrust, he attacked it with vigour until Jisoo was screaming his name at the top of his lungs, strung in with a mix of endless profanity. There, in Seungcheol’s bedroom, and with nobody else in the apartment, the two wordlessly confess all their pent up emotions and feelings towards one another through the motions of their bodies working together for the sole purpose of mutual pleasure. No other words needed to be said, other than one letting the other know that they were very soon reaching their climax; and right before his orgasm hit, Seungcheol leans down and presses his mouth to Jisoo’s - swallowing his moans as they come together, Jisoo’s cock painting their stomachs white between them while Seungcheol empties his own come deep within Jisoo’s asshole.

The rest of the night is unfocused after Seungcheol pulls out of Jisoo and simply collapses on the bed next to him. In their tiredness, it was a miracle of a feat what they’d physically achieved that night. but what neither cared to think about in their post-coital drunken state was what exactly they’d just done, and how their relationship would change from that point onwards - for the better, and for the worse.

Minghao wakes up to the scuffling sound of half-asleep feet padding across wooden floorboards. Looking up, he takes a moment to remember that he walked all that distance to sleep in Hansol’s apartment as opposed to staying with Jeonghan that night, and his mouth slowly spreads across his face in a wide grin when all the events of his previous endeavours in consciousness flow back to him. He hears chopping and clanking from the kitchenette and turns to see Hansol filling a pot with water and placing it on the induction stove, grabbing a package of instant ramen from his open pantry and clumsily tearing it open. He looks over at Minghao, eyes half-lidded and wings creased from sleep.

“Morning,” Hansol greets the demon in a low, scratchy voice, to which Minghao responds to by yawning loudly and diving back under the sheets.

“A verbal reply might be nicer.”

“Not a morning person.”

Sighing, Hansol turns to the stove where the water’s just begun to boil. He watches as the bubbles quicken and grow in size, then dumps the dry block of noodles into the water followed by the flavouring sachets.

“You hungry? I can make another pack of ramen for you later if you’d like.”

“Don’t eat human food, remember?” Minghao reinstates, voice low and husky from a fulfilling - yet still insufficient, sleep.

“Right…” Hansol mentally hits himself over the head for forgetting so quickly, berating himself so hard he doesn’t realize he forgot to turn down the heat and his ramen is now boiling over. Minghao laughs when Hansol swears and rushes to clean up and the younger boy can feel warmth pooling in his cheeks, embarrassment so physically palpable it takes him all his strength not to scald his fingers when arranging vegetables on top of the noodles, or drop the egg he pulls out from the fridge, or crack it too aggressively against the lip of the pan.

There’s a silence hanging in the room as Hansol waits out the remaining two minutes for his ramen to finish cooking, but it’s not awkward - mainly to do with Minghao’s want to disappear within the sheets of his fold-out couch bed. But Hansol still has questions for him, and wouldn’t be particularly surprised if Minghao had a few to ask back. When the time has passed and his breakfast is finished, he turns off the heat and carries the pot over to the coffee table, careful not to burn himself or drop anything in his anxiety. After making a secondary trip for cutlery, Hansol sits down and lifts the lid off the pot, letting the smell invigorate his senses and shake off any remaining feelings of tiredness.

“Come and sit with me,” Hansol suggests to Minghao.

“I don’t wanna watch you eat.”

“Not my intention. I’m just trying to be friendly here.” Minghao’s head perks up to catch Hansol turning his eyes to the food in front of him from when he’d previously been looking in his direction. A pang of guilt - or, at least what he thinks might be guilt - shoots through Minghao’s chest and reluctantly, he slowly walks over and sits cross-legged opposite Hansol on the floor.

For the first few minutes as Hansol eats, Minghao simply watches in silence - studying the features of Hansol’s face and the way it moved as he chewed and swallowed.

Despite his semi-frequent expeditions to the human realm of the Earth, cultural norms and social conventions he always found near impossible to deal with - mostly due to how many he’d already had to learn about whenever he became stranded on Earth like he was now.

“So did you want to talk about anything?” Hansol prompts, hoping to get some conversation out of the demon, since the chances are he’ll be around for a while.

“Mmhh,” Minghao huffs lightly, playing with a glass prism Hansol has on the table as a paperweight for some bills he has yet to pay. His eyes follow the refracted spots of light the prism casts along the wall, ignoring the way Hansol is staring right into his face.

“Alright then,” Hansol says with mild contempt, Hansol watches Minghao pretend he’s not there, before giving up after a few minutes and going back to his breakfast.

“Why are your friends all assholes?” Minghao suddenly asks, loudly and with intent.

“I’m… I’m sorry ?”

“Those other nine boys who you summoned me with together. They all treat me like I’m the spawn of Satan.”

“Well, to be fair you’re a demon-”

“That’s not the fucking point, Vernon ,” Minghao goads to cut off Hansol’s smart remark. Hansol feels almost shell-shocked at the sudden usage of his middle name; he doesn’t even know if he ever told Minghao what it was. “That’s right, I know everything about you and your pals ,” he says, spitting the words out as if they’d tried to poison him. “I know it all; your full name, your date of birth, your country of birth, your next of kin, your blood type, your dominant hand, your high school alma mater - your fucking kinks for God’s sake - but I don’t know jack shit about your personality or how you are with people. It’s the one fucking thing I actually have to find out by myself, and I have to do that with all of my contractors in order to get even a step closer to making it home.”

“Well, how do you think you’ll manage that if you never talk to any of us?”

Minghao opens his mouth to throw an insult, but he feels his body stiffen and his lips tighten at having his ass handed to him by a human.

“Well, for all you know I could be a mind reade-”

“Shut the hell up man, otherwise you’d really know everything about me. Come on, tell me something about myself that I don’t know.”

The demon sits unmoving in position at the coffee table. Since when did humans get so witty?

”Exactly. Don’t think you get to be a brat to me and come out of it unscathed.”

The silent tension in the room is heavy as Hansol continues to eat, Minghao sulking miserably opposite him. Never before had he ever felt so bad about being rude to someone until Hansol had called him out on how awfully he’d spoken to him. Despite being a master of manipulation by nature, he suddenly felt like Hansol was truly in power over him at the current moment.

Now, he might realize why he feels as if most of his contractors hate him.

“You blink less when you’re eating,” Minghao points out timidly.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” Hansol retorts, highly unimpressed by the random observation.

“Look, I’m sorry.”

“Good, apology accepted. Because if you’re gonna be here on Earth, in Korea, for however long you are, you’re gonna need to learn how to behave like a good citizen. Understand?”

Minghao wants to get angry with Hansol, he really does, but the amount of authority in Hansol’s still-croaky morning voice tells Minghao that he is seriously not in the mood to be messed around with.

Still, they sit together, regret clawing away at Minghao from the inside like a rabid beast as he reflects on his behavior. He’d seen a mother discipline her child out on the street one time when he’d been summoned to Latvia, and almost felt as if he himself were the child and Hansol was the parent in this situation. In theory, it should have been the other way round - with Minghao being the one in control and Hansol at mercy to him. But he knows now that in order to get what he wants from people, he can’t always demand it and use his powers to his own advantage. For some, like Hansol, it simply wouldn’t work.

After thinking about what he’d been told, he comes to one final realization: if he wants to get anywhere with Hansol, he’d have to get to him to trust him first.

“So what are your friends like?” Minghao asks nervously, hoping that his tone isn’t too shaky, nor does it sound forced.

Hansol halts his movements halfway through raising his chopsticks to his mouth. “And you want to know this because…?”

The demon shrugs. “Guess I just want to know what kind of people they are through the eyes of a person who likes them.”

“Well then,” Hansol grunts hoarsely after pondering on it briefly, placing his chopsticks down and repositioning himself slightly. “Who do you want me to tell you about first?”

Minghao pretends to think a moment; feigning naivety as he innocently replies “Junhui.”

The blonde-haired boy stares at him a second. He knows already that something’s up between the otherworldly boy sitting before him and his friend - who, just a few days before, had warned him about Minghao. He didn’t know what exactly for or why, but so far he saw no reason for Junhui to have told him to keep his guard up so high.

That being said, Hansol was still nowhere near trusting of Minghao. For all he knew so far he was a nuisance, but he knew little about what he was - and even less the intentions the demon sitting in front of him might be harbouring.

“Well first off, no one in our circle calls him Junhui, we all just shorten it to Jun.”

He pauses, watching Minghao nod, gathering his thoughts as he tries to put words together to describe his friend. He realizes now that he’d never really had to talk about his friends like this, and brushes off all feelings of unfamiliarity as he continues.

“Go on…” Minghao edges on lightly.

Hansol swallows. “He’s, well at least I’d say, one of the ‘father figures’ of the group. He’s very connected with reality, but we all know that he’s secretly very creative. He thinks more than he speaks, but he’s only been in Korea since he moved here for university, so that might just be because of the slight language barrier we’ve still got with him. Uh… he’s close with his family. He calls his mom at almost the exact same time every week - around Thursdays at 9pm, give or take a minute or a dozen. I don’t really know what to say about him, he’s just generally a really good guy. One of the newer in our friend group, but we all feel as if we’ve known him our whole lives.”

Hansol studies Minghao’s face as he processes everything he’d just been told about Junhui.

“And Mingyu?” Minghao asks bluntly. Hansol tries to draw together possible correlations between why Minghao had chosen to ask about these two first before talking, but his mind runs dry and he mentally shakes off his suspicion.

After all, it’s not like talking about his friends will hurt anyone.

“Most people are intimidated by him at first because he’s really tall and looks as wealthy as he is, but he’s humble and a real puppy when he’s around us. For some reason, his parents sent him to public school even though they could afford to send both him and his sister to top-notch private schools. Probably figured it’d help prepare them better for the real world, but we can’t really be sure. Uh, he’s loud and really close with Wonwoo. They’ve been best friends since pre-school. Did I mention that he’s rich? Because he’s filthy rich. Every time we go out to eat he covers the bill, and without any of us asking either, no matter how long and hard we argue about splitting it. Promise you we don’t just use him for his money, even before he had any of his own to spend we’d always been close to him. Surprisingly, he cooks for himself too. None of us know where that comes from.”

“He lives on his own?”

Hansol narrows his eyes slightly at the demon. “Yeah… Big white expensive apartment. It’s a wonder he keeps it clean, considering he doesn’t hire cleaners. Doesn’t have much stuff, though, except for clothes and kitchen items.”

Again, Minghao takes a pause to process the information. For the rest of the morning, Minghao asks about all ten of the boys that had been present at the summoning where they’d called upon him - including Hansol himself, which takes close to half an hour for him to answer due to not quite knowing what to say; choosing to instead just play his Soundcloud mixtapes to him, saying they’d explain more about him than any explanation would.

“So that’s it, then? Sounds like you have really good friends,” Minghao says, his tone suggesting what Hansol thinks might be slight envy.

“Actually, there’s two you haven’t met yet…”

Minghao suddenly perks up, eyes wide and shining in intrigue. “Tell me more,” he immediately asks.

“Well… their names are Seungkwan and Chan. Chan was originally going to participate in the ritual, but he’s not eighteen yet so we had to send him home, and Seungkwan was performing with his school choir at a concert the night we summoned you so he was never at Jun’s place to begin with.”

“They hang out with you a lot?” Minghao pushes.

“Of course, our group wouldn’t be the same without them. Seungkwan’s our clown and Chan’s our youngest. Soonyoung loves Chan a lot since they dance together whenever he’s out of school. When they’re not around it’s really not the same.”

Minghao sits back, painstakingly suppressing a smile. By the laws of his land, “corrupting” people of under legal age is highly transgressive, but the thought of having even just one extra client excited him beyond words; the only problem present in this situation being that he wasn’t able to track unlisteds due to the lack of blood connection.

“I see,” Minghao says plainly in response.

“Anything else you wanna know? I’ve got a day off today and I don’t particularly need to do anything, so…”

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Question upon question spills from Minghao’s mouth while Hansol provides endless insights into what he knows he can answer for him; by the end of the day, both boys are smiling and laughing with one another in a manner only a bond of decades ever would.

Still, the two chatter on through the setting of Seoul’s summer sun, content in their company and drunk on the joy of newly-bloomed friendship. As the air around them cools and the studio succumbs to the dusk, Minghao looks out of the apartment window down at the streets - still bustling with cars and nightlife - and figures this might just be what it feels like to be human.

Chapter Text

The hard obsidian walls of the castle howl as drafts pass through the unpaned window structures, menacing to all but its inhabitants. With autumnum - the daemon fall - steadily coming toward its end, the residence is barren while the children of the castle play outside; milking every last drop of light they can before the inevitable cold returns to bite at the heels of those who dare to challenge it. All except one - a young boy, who simply wandered the corridors aimlessly, thin, gangly and growing arms holding up the duvets his mother had wrapped him up in so he wouldn’t get cold running around early in the morning. Usually he’d have taken them off by midday, but even with the thick fabric swaddling his body he felt a chill rattling lightly through his bones.

His whole body hurts, and as he continues walking he brings a hand up to caress the stiff buds still yet to break through the skin atop his skull. He’d waited so long for his horns to finally start pushing through, but he didn’t think it was going to be so painful. He didn’t need to reach around to feel his tail and wings, for the rubbing of the fabric against the new appendages was enough to remind him that they were there - and growing fast. And yet, somehow they hurt him less. He figures that it’s down to the hardness of his horns, versus the softness of the wings and tail that determined which appendages would take more pain and time to develop.

“Son,” a voice behind him calls in daemon tongue.

The boy turns to the sound of the familiar voice of his mother, standing at the other end of the hallway. He’d always marveled at her ability to materialize within the blink of an eye wherever she pleased, and couldn’t wait until it was his turn to learn.

“Mama?” he replies, in Chinese rather than demonic. He knew he should be practicing, but it felt thick and uncomfortable in his mouth - he preferred the ease of flowing vowels and varying tones his native human language allowed him. Learning the language wasn’t too high up on his list of interests - none of his siblings paid any attention to him anyway.

“Come over here.”

He turns on his heels, and his little legs pick up in pace until he’s running as fast as he can into the open arms of his mother - Lilith, the progenitor and bearer of all demons. She picks him up and spins him around, the small body curling up and laughing against her chest. Despite being taller for his age than the average demon-human hybrid child, his mother towers strong and beautiful above all - most days, she could even still carry him as if he were still an infant. She nuzzles her nose into the unkempt brown locks of hair atop his head, smoothing a comforting hand over his back and closing her eyes.

“Why are you not out with your brothers and sisters, precious?” his mother asks him, continuing the conversation in Minghao’s mother tongue.

“They don’t talk to me,” Minghao utters timidly, lowering his voice even more. “I don’t know if they like me much.”

“Of course they do, Hao. They love you so much, but they all already speak demonic fluently. I know you love Chinese, but you're the only one here who speaks it. You have to keep learning. We’re your family, and I’m sure they’d love to talk to you as much as I know you want to talk to them.”

“I’m so scared, Ma,” Minghao sobs, tears welling up and spilling over from his wide, brown eyes. “My entire body is in pain. I don’t know if I like this... What if I want it to stop?”

Lilith softens, and she places Minghao down on the ground. Slowly, she peels away the duvet Minghao still wore draped around his thin frame, until he is left in nothing but a tunic soon to be too small for him - judging by the way the outline of his newly blossomed wings press out against the fabric.

“Oh, baby. You have to tell me when your clothes are getting small. It’s important for them to be loose when you start developing, to minimize the pain.”

Taking his small hand in hers, she leads him to the dressmakers’ where Minghao is remeasured, and new tunics fitted.

“When can I wear a toga like my brothers and sisters, ma?”

“In time, love. You are still one of the youngest.”

“I want to grow up fast so that I can visit the humans soon. On Ea… uh, ea-”

“Earth," she corrects him with a chuckle. "Just relax and take good care of yourself, my dear son, your turn will come soon,” Lilith assures him. “Now take your tunics and put them in your wardrobe.”

“Thank you, mother,” Minghao bids goodbye to his mother in rough demonic, drawing a smile from within her features. Arms full of his new clothing, he starts to walk down the corridor before turning around and catching a flash of material from the skirt of her dress, followed by the thin black mist left he knows to be left behind by daemon apparition. He grins widely, before skipping off to his bed space and replacing all his old robes with the pristine, new ones.

The day was almost over, and it was almost time for supper. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of his cot, he closes his eyes and allows his mind to wander off. Of fully grown wings and horns, of his first Earth trip; of what laid more and beyond the demon realm he secretly yearned to escape…

The honking of a car horn just outside the apartment complex shakes Minghao out of limbo and he snaps to awareness, immediately disappointed in his sights and surroundings.

Cross-legged and hunched over, Minghao sits in the center of the sofa bed he’d been sleeping on for the past few days since the agreement was made he’d be living with Hansol. Restless, he squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds before opening them again - praying to something that he’d magically materialize back in the castle he knew as his home. But when he opens his eyes once again, he’s met with nothing but the same despondency from his sudden awakening.

How stupid I’d been to have ever wanted this, Minghao thinks to himself, rubbing his face and groaning in his regret.

The feelings of despair and longing at being stranded from his native realm had begun slowly after his first twenty-four hours on Earth, after winning the race against all his incubi brothers and sisters to claim the spot in executing the summoning in which Junhui and his friends had so ignorantly committed to. He hadn’t minded it at first, and it wasn’t uncommon for demons completing missions on Earth to miss their home realms.

Not until he’d had that dream, at least.

Now, it hits him all at once. Perched cross-legged atop the bed and swaddled in flimsy, gauze-like sheets, his mind wanders back to his home realm. As much as he was adaptable to life on Earth, it was simply too different. Everything was too bright; being outside for too long was a strain on his eyes from all the visual clutter and diverse color schemes - and due to the fluorescent neon lights of Seoul’s nightlife, it was even worse after dark. He was used to dusky, warm neutral colors, the uniform structural aesthetic of the architecture in the daemon realm. Being able to look out of a window and see everything behind it in its exact shape felt too plain, for the windows in the castle he grew up in were carved thin and imperfect out of crystal. The surfaces would distort everything on the outside, and when light shone through the panels, it refracted in hundreds of different directions. On rare occasion it would split into a small rainbow on a wall or the floor, which was just about the most color they ever got.

He misses it all. He missed the long drapey clothing everyone wore about their daily activities, missed the warm hugs from his brothers and sisters, the lessened gravity that allowed for their wings to work, the thick, faintly glowing fluid they drank instead of eating; warm, diluted energy.

Everything around him is motionless. Despite the fun he’d been having, messing with Junhui and his group of friends by day, the darkness and quiet of the late left him lonelier than ever, with nothing to distract himself and all the time in the world to miss home.

Minghao glances over at Hansol, snoozing peacefully underneath what might just be the only thick duvet in the apartment. He gets an idea, and quietly uncrosses his legs to step off the bed. bundling up his own duvet in his arms before making his way over to the bed. In two swift movements, Minghao pulls Hansol’s duvet right off him and lays his own over his host’s sleeping frame. Padding along back to his bed, he lays the blanket down and slides underneath, shifting his body and the covers around until his entire body is swathed in the thick material and he can feel the heat from his own body radiating back at him through the insulation of the fabric.

He doesn’t know how long he continues to lay awake, or roughly what time he falls asleep, or the number of times he feels his heart speed up when Hansol stirs in his bed. All he remembers is the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, silently rolling down his cheeks as memories of his childhood flash before his eyes - wishing with all his heart that he could go back to that time when everything was simpler.

“...asshole snatched my duvet off me at ass o'clock in the fucking morning the other night-”

“It’s been three days, Hansol. I was homesick, can we leave it?”

“I didn’t know demons got homesick,” Soonyoung blandly interjects over his bowl of cereal, multitasking his morning activities expertly as he manages emails and his already blowing up Kakao Talk messages concerning today’s classes and activities.

“You forget that I’m half-human. It happens, especially if we get stranded here with no real objective.”

Despite their constant questions about Minghao’s state of being, he’d grown to quite like Soonyoung and Hansol both during his stay so far - almost never wanting to see the other members of the friend group; mostly due to the fact that out of the ten he’d met so far, he’d been met with respect from only the two of them. Soonyoung stares at him for a moment before wolfing down the rest of his breakfast and rinsing out his bowl.

“Well, I’m off to the studio now. I have exactly six hours to choreograph a routine for Junior Advanced, they’re getting really good really fast. Almost better than me.”

“Impossible,” Hansol comments, having witnessed full well the talent and passion for dance his friend possessed.

“You’d be surprised actually, no kids’ class I’ve ever taught have improved as fast as this one has. Come along and see for yourselves if you’d like, but for now I’m out.” Mere seconds pass by before Soonyoung grabs his phone and jacket off the table and leaves the apartment with a last muffled ‘ see you guys later tonight.’

The past few days, Minghao had been having a great time staying with Hansol in the coziness of his apartment, during which time Hansol had taught Minghao how to live in a house like his demon half didn’t even exist. He was still getting a grasp on basic concepts like the purpose of electricity in powering the apartment and man-made appliances, making phone calls, and using a computer, but with the help of his Hansol and Soonyoung he picked up the baby steps fairly quickly. He’d even tried human food when his “roommates” ordered in fried chicken one night and offered him a piece, but was bedridden for the majority of the next day. As much as he liked the taste, it wasn’t something his body was used to.

Despite the good time he’d been having with Hansol and Soonyoung, however, the lack of sex was getting to him - he’d been irritable and his limbs felt strangely detached from the rest of his body. In the past he’d never been on Earth long enough to experience withdrawal, but he could almost feel his energy levels depleting by the second. And with Hansol being his long-term host, he didn’t feel it was appropriate to sleep with him until he was through with most of the other boys. For the sake of keeping his place to stay, he decides that he’ll leave Hansol for last.

Out of nowhere, an idea pops in his head - like a lightbulb in his head flipping its switch to “on” - as he remembers the threat he’d made to Junhui just days ago.

You’re not the only one with a dick in this household. The words ring through his mind like his young voice would echo down the dark halls of his castle home while playing around with his mother or siblings. The name of the boy he’d been referring to then speeds to the forefront of his mind and he suddenly can’t keep his feet still, and he knows that today is the best possible day to get what he needs from him.

“Hey Hansol, I’m gonna go out for a walk,” he calls out to his friend, earning a breakfast-muffled noise of approval and a thumbs up. A small smile graces his face as he swings the front door open and leaves the small space he'd been calling home, setting off the same reason as Soonyoung had done just minutes before: to go and do his own job.

“Dammit Mingyu, you had one job! Just kill the motherfucking guy and get it over with!” Wonwoo screams through his gaming headset at his best friend of.

“It wasn’t my fault! They had me surrounded, I couldn’t get my aim right-”

“If you’d just taken down that one guy we’d have demolished the rest of their team,” he continues to scold before leaning back in his seat and rubbing his face. Pressing pause on the game, he rises from his seat and winces at the stiffness in his knees from sitting for so long. “I’m gonna go grab a drink of water, I’ll be back,” he utters into the mic before ripping the headset away from his head, placing it down on his desk.

Immediately, he turns his head towards a knocking sound outside the apartment. Coincidence? he wonders as he lazily strides towards the front door, not bothering to look through the peephole before unlocking and swinging the door open.

His eyes widen upon recognition of the figure standing before him and immediately slams the door shut, still facing the door as he backs away slowly before retreating to the kitchen - filling a glass at the speed of light before whisking back to his bedroom.

Not trusting Minghao to be gone so soon, he watches his door intensely for several minutes before spinning to face his computer and placing the headset back over his ears. He pulls the video call with his best friend back up and makes to speak, but he’s barely gotten a word out before he feels a brush of fingers against his scalp and the headset being yanked back off his head. Throwing his arms up defensively, he whips his head around and any dissipated anger floods back into him at the sight of the last person he ever wanted to see.

“How the fuck did you get in he-”

“You saw me jump through a crack in the floor of your friends’ apartment, this shouldn’t be anything new to you,” Minghao says, his tone tiptoeing a border between condescending and whiny. Leaning against the doorframe of Wonwoo’s bedroom, he heaves out a deep sigh before speaking again. “For the record, I hate doing that. Just let me in next time, a total violation of privacy if you ask me.”

“Dare I ask where these manners come from?” Wonwoo snaps back at him, arms folded against his chest as he reclines into the desk chair, spinning away with a huff and a morose expression.

“Incubi and succubi hate being walked in on jerking off as much as regular humans do,” Minghao casually drops into the conversation as if it - the mention of demons and jerking off in the same sentence - were the single most obvious thing in the world.

Wonwoo’s eyes only widened a little, sour emotions mixing and melding into pure confusion and curiosity like the pour of heated milk into espresso at a barista’s expert hand. He’d managed to put the pieces together with the help of Google and Taehyung - a third-year friend from uni who, conveniently enough, happened to minor in mythology.

But to hear confirmation from the man, the demon himself…

Wonwoo blinks twice before running a hand through his hair, smoothing down the strands that had stood upright from shock. He knew had to find out more.

“So how did you get past my door, even after I slammed it in your face?” he asks, rotating back around to face Minghao, one leg crossing over the other and the corner of his mouth tipping upwards in an inquisitive half smile.

“I’m not too sure if I should tell you,” Minghao teases, upturning his nose in deliberate stubbornness. Wonwoo however, instead of talking back like Minghao expected him to, he simply glared at the spot on Minghao’s cheek where their lines of vision had met just moments ago. Breaking character, he feels a small grin spread across his cheeks and curses Wonwoo internally for being as clever as Hansol is - if not more clever, even.

“Scared I’ll freak out and call the authorities?” Wonwoo returns tauntingly, and a subtle flash of seriousness appears and disappears from Minghao’s features before he can react - responding again almost instantaneously.

“Well, that not the worst that could happen.” Minghao shrugs. “You could try and kill me. People have, in the past.”

Wonwoo fails to respond, watching the way Minghao starts to fidget with his hands, that same fleeting expression from earlier settling back into his face, forehead creasing ever-so-slightly, and Wonwoo doesn’t need to ask to know that Minghao’s definitely experienced trauma while on Earth before. As much as he wants to ask, he’s not sure he wants to hear the answer any more than Minghao would be happy to give it.

“So you really are a demon, then?”

Minghao’s eyes fall from where they had previously been fixed on the ceiling, almost flushing head-to-toe a hard red when his gaze meets Wonwoo’s - had he been watching this whole time?

“Well, would a regular human be able to jump between dimensions like I just did?”

The room is uncomfortably silent for a full minute, all of which Minghao can practically feel Wonwoo thinking, the cogs of his mind jamming and refusing to cooperate with the new information.

Minghao jerks when Wonwoo suddenly moves, raising a hand to his forehead to rub away at the points right where the head of his eyebrows begin. He watches Wonwoo close his eyes and concern pools in his brain like storm clouds; he almost feels bad for hitting Wonwoo with that kind of information on a buildup of such a bare minimum.

“That’s impossible,” are the only words Wonwoo utter out in response. Minghao’s heartbeat speeds up right along with Wonwoo’s as he feels the older boy become agitated by what he’d just heard.

If he didn’t explain now, there was no doubt Wonwoo would lose it .

“Okay, yes, I’m a demon. Not a biblical one, but I guess I’m not human at the least.” Minghao watches Wonwoo with wary eyes as he pauses before going on, but the elder simply remains in position, waiting for him to continue more so than Minghao is waiting for a response. Turning his eyes away from Wonwoo, he begins to talk.

“The human and demon realms are at the same time separate and connected, and they can come together in all different sorts of ways. Some demons can come and go between either as they choose, but that’s reserved for only the most powerful ones. For demons like me and my siblings, the only way we can get here is the way you witnessed that one night - unless there’s an inter-realm crisis, in which case our mother opens up a special passage for us.”

“Have you ever been involved in one of those? An inter-realm crisis, that is.” Minghao stops halfway through a breath at the sound of Wonwoo’s deep voice interrupting the explanation, suddenly realizing those eyes pressing indents where his gaze falls on the side of his head.

“Not yet. They’re pretty rare occurrences, but often extremely severe. Last one to happen was in 1960’s China during their cultural revolution, but that was the first in over a millennium. Our seniors still speak of it.”

Wonwoo nods in understanding, and Minghao continues.

“However, once we’re here on Earth to complete a mission, we’re able to pass between the human realm and demon realms momentarily if we need to get past something, as long as it’s beneficial to getting our job done. Like just now when I got past your door - that was me dimension hopping.“

”So… like teleporting?” Wonwoo asks. When Minghao cocks his head and raises an eyebrow in question, he brushes it off.

“I don’t know what that is, but I’m not sure any human language would be able to explain what it is properly. It’s not something your so-called ‘science’ can make sense of anyway. I know it’s what you’re raised to believe, but there’s always things it’ll never be able to explain.”

Wonwoo shivers as he feels the hairs at the nape of his neck stand on end, bringing a hand up to smooth down the gooseflesh prickling against his fingertips as he traces his fingers in an attempt to calm his skin. He catches a mischievous glint in Minghao’s eyes, trying to quell the rising heat he can feel starting to course through his body like the crashing of ocean waves upon dry shores in the early stages of a storm.

When Minghao comes away from the wall, it’s as if the lines of his body have somewhat shifted, his curves more exaggerated as he stretches his arms over his head. His throat feels dry as he swallows forcefully, and if the demon notices he doesn’t react when Wonwoo quickly scans his eyes down his svelte figure. He’d always been the quiet yet observant type, and his eyes briefly catch on a few aspects of Minghao’s body; the half-moon edges of his nails, the smoky darkness ringing his eyes and accentuating the burnished red-brown of his irises, the leisurely flexing of abdominal muscles even Wonwoo himself would have difficulty noticing in slow motion or up close. Thankful for his ability to hold a poker face, he continues to sneak glances at Minghao - all while he feels his skin burning up until he feels he might as well have none left - until he once again finds his eyes locked within those of the boy he instantly longs to know better; in more ways than just the personal.

“If you’d like, I can show you what us demons are capable of.” The words leave Wonwoo on edge, and he feels it in the electrical current surging like a bullet train through his spine before letting loose; leaving Wonwoo more relaxed than he’d ever felt in his entire life.

Wonwoo thinks before answering, tentatively, in low voice. “Well, I’m not opposed to trying new things”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Curiosity killed the cat , Wonwoo’s immediately thinks. “As long as it’s not gonna hurt, I guess.”

Minghao simply smiles, and takes the first step forward.

“Satisfaction brought it back”

And then he’s sitting in Wonwoo’s lap, arms draping loosely around the taller's shoulders as he leads them into a kiss that’s neither rough nor forgiving. The video game and headset lay forgotten about as heat spills over from the two bodies in the room, and the atmosphere quickly grows thick with lust. Wonwoo’s limbs feel like jelly and doesn’t know where to place his hands - he hasn’t done this in a long time - and is taken aback by how instantly eloquent the kiss is, but when he places his hands on Minghao’s waist and regains his composure to kiss back after his initial surprise, he feels all its components in rapid succession.

Minghao presses his lips fervently against Wonwoo’s, hard enough to bruise, and he feels hunger first. The gap between their bodies is small - close enough for Minghao to feel just how much heat is radiating from within Wonwoo’s core, prompting only more urgency from the demon as his lips loosen and his tongue peeks out to push against Wonwoo’s lips which are still tight against his own. Wonwoo quickly realizes this, and parts his lips so that Minghao can push past and gain long-needed access to the inside of his mouth. Teeth clacking together awkwardly several times, they grow more and more frantic as the air around them begins to crackle from the electricity of their closeness. When he experimentally brings his crotch up to brush against the leather stretched across Minghao’s he hears the boy whine, and doesn’t hesitate a single moment longer to rack their intimacy up further.

Need is the second thing he can feel when he feels the smaller boy grab him by the collar of his shirt, shifting his legs and rising to his feet, leading Wonwoo to the bed not two metres away from where they had previously been lip-locking on the desk chair. Almost as if they were dancing, Minghao smoothly spins them around before not-so-smoothly pushing Wonwoo down onto the mattress, watching him crawl backwards as he paces forward, the taller boy centered on the bed by the time Minghao’s knees fall to the bed. Minghao’s eyes are intense as they point down back into Wonwoo’s as he straddles his hips, diving back down to reconnect their lips in identical vehemence as when they split apart.

Wonwoo allows his hands to roam across the vast expanses of Minghao’s skin as the smaller boy hovers atop him, afraid he’ll split its infantile softness with his touch. He allows a quiet moan to escape his lips, and Minghao drinks it down like a parched man stumbling upon a clear oasis. Minghao brings his hips down, already half-hard and needy as he rubs himself against Wonwoo’s clothed thigh, but his kisses are not those of someone whose sexual intentions are controlled by lust. He tilts his head differently to drop wet kisses down the length of Minghao’s jaw, leaving small bites and sucking at ashen skin as he trails down to sharp collarbones, but Minghao is impatient and takes the sides of his head to claim Wonwoo’s lips once again. And while arousal shrouds Wonwoo’s thoughts, his head light as he feels the blood redirect to where it matters for the moment; from Minghao, anguish is the third thing he feels.

“ Off .” Minghao’s voice is commanding as he tugs at the hem of Wonwoo’s shirt. He repositions so that Wonwoo can tug the fabric over his head, discarding it on the floor. Minghao follows suit and, with assistance from Wonwoo, rids himself of his tight leather ensemble. Wonwoo didn’t think Minghao would be any more thin and spindly than he himself was, but in his hands he felt as though the slightest rough handling would snap him in half - even if Minghao was the one on top. The kisses grew frantic still, Minghao’s body now completely on display for Wonwoo. He carefully brushes his fingertips against the velvety sheen of Minghao’s wings, feels the junction where his tail leaves the rest of his body, all while Minghao continues to kiss him until both sets of lips are puffy and almost bruised. Minghao begins to rut his now fully hard cock against Wonwoo’s thigh fast, without any preparation or warm-up stimulation - and as precum leaks wet streaks down Wonwoo’s sweatpants, he finally feels the raw, unmitigated desperation underlying every single one of Minghao’s motives.

Minghao brings his hand down between their bodies to palm Wonwoo’s cock through his jeans, and revels in the gasp Wonwoo lets out against his mouth.

“I thought you would be the one to explore me, not the other way round.” Wonwoo focuses his eyes on Minghao’s, and gathers himself, voice breathy from lack of use from thirstful kisses. He searches in eyes flashed with burgundy for an answer, and when it comes to him the response is more than satisfactory.

“Can’t we both do a little investigating?”

Minghao’s hand stills, and he sits upright, shuffling downwards on the bed until he’s positioned between Wonwoo’s legs. He tucks his fingers under the waistband of both Wonwoo’s sweatpants and underwear, dragging them down his thighs painstakingly slowly, eyes widening in want at the sight of Wonwoo’s cock springing free from the fabric, leaking at the tip and mouth-wateringly tempting.

“Can we…” Minghao begins to say, trailing off at the end of the sentence and brightening when Wonwoo nods. With a grin, he turns and straddles Wonwoo once again, only now he’s met with his cock and inching backward so his own hips are in line with Wonwoo’s head. He feels long fingers wrap around his achingly hard member, and he moans languidly when they stroke downwards and back up once. Minghao looks down between their bodies and into Wonwoo’s eyes, and, as if in time with the universe, their heads dip downwards to wrap their lips around the head of the other’s cock in a moment of mutual pleasure exchange that feels as though it’s drawing out forever.

When Minghao begins to swallow Wonwoo’s cock all the way down to the base, Wonwoo’s mouth comes off Minghao’s, his head falling back against the sheets as he feels the walls of Minghao’s throat swallow around his member. He slicks two of his fingers up with his saliva and draws circles around the tight ring of muscles, watching them spasm as Minghao moans approval. Slowly, he dips one finger in until it’s ensheathed to the base, taking Minghao’s cock in the other hand and lazily stroking him off as Wonwoo begins to move his hand within the smaller boy’s hole. He adds another, then another until Minghao is moaning around the head of his cock, sending intense vibrations through his dick and into his core. He slips out a quiet, sated breath of his own, and downright whines when Minghao inhales deeply before taking Wonwoo’s cock down his throat right to the base.

“I’m gonna-- ngh --gonna come in like, five seconds...” Wonwoo begins before groaning in displeasure when Minghao pulls completely away from his cock and twists his body so they’re once again making eye contact, a thread of spit and precum hanging away from his upper lip where it snapped away from between his mouth and the cock that had just been inside it.

“Not so soon,” Minghao says in a low voice, and pulls Wonwoo’s hands away from his ass - flinching slightly at the lack of fingers filling his hole, but it isn’t long until his legs are on either sides of Wonwoo’s hips yet again. He leans down and tilts his hips forward so their cocks brush together, relishing in the little sounds escaping Wonwoo’s vocal chords as the taller boy’s arms find his back and they kiss, open-mouthed and lazy as Minghao slowly ruts his own cock against the other’s. When things begin to get heated again, he interrupts the flow to sit back upright and move his hand to Wonwoo’s erection which is spit-slicked and achingly hard. Running its sensitive head through the cleft of his ass before positioning it at his prepared hole, he sinks down on it with no effort at all and smirks when Wonwoo brings a hand up to suppress the loud gasp he lets out. He watches as the older boy arches his back and cants his hips up involuntarily, moving in a gentle tandem when Minghao begins to ride him. He takes his time as best as he can - humans weren’t as immediately used to rough sex as demons were - but his impatience stirs, thick like liquid adhesive in his chest, and he moans long and loud as if the neighbours were as much the target audience of his sexual endeavours as the boy underneath him was.

Their breathing is deep, each inhale heightening their pleasure as Minghao begins to rise and sink with more speed and vigour than before. Breaths and gasps and brief praise from both parties are released into the room and dissipate like wisps of smoke in a breeze - hanging around just long enough to form shape, gone only to be replaced by newer ones. Wonwoo’s hands snake up the sides of his thighs and lay to rest at the depression of his waist, coupling on either sides of his torso. The demon’s ministrations are long and fluid and Wonwoo can feel the sensation of ocean waves again - only this time it was earthquake that had angered the ocean, a curving swell of water gliding across the otherwise peaceful ocean. Earlier, Minghao was conjuring up a storm in Wonwoo’s body. Menacing, unpredictable, salacious violence.

But this was different.

“Uh-uh,” Minghao warns, ripping Wonwoo’s hands away from where they were holding his sides. “No touching unless I say so. Let me take what I need from you.” Wonwoo’s eyes go wild and he gulps, but his shock subsides instantaneously when Minghao’s hands move to Wonwoo’s abdomen, keeping his balance as he begins to speed up the pace of which he moves over the cock in his ass - grinding down every time he takes it down to the hilt. Wonwoo moans loudly now, voice deep and smooth and Minghao’s breathing speeds up right along with his speed. He leans down and kisses Wonwoo softly, noting the way his hands have fisted themselves white-knuckled into the bedsheets to avoid moving them to Minghao’s body, all the while still grinding his ass down, milking the cock inside him for everything it was worth.

To Minghao’s nonexistent surprise, the sex has mostly been quiet, but that changes when Wonwoo tucks his legs up halfway and shifts the placement of his hips. He feels the head of Wonwoo’s cock brush against the prostate they’d not paid attention to so far, and cries out in surprise and absolute bliss. Bringing a hand up to his flagged erection, he tugs at it until it’s standing proud and continues to fuck himself off Wonwoo’s cock - massaging that sweet spot every time he brings his hips down, and feels his release coming around faster than he’d been expecting. He can tell Wonwoo’s close too from the way his breathing quickens, his hips coming up to meet his in a unified rhythm that grows both more agitated and disorderly each passing second.

“Go faster, please, I’m a-about to--no, what are you- ” Wonwoo snaps to full attention as Minghao pulls off Wonwoo’s cock to sit on the taller boy’s stomach, rapidly stroking himself off.

“I said--a h-- I said no touchi-- mmm! ” Minghao manages to stammer out before he reaches his climax, painting streaks of semen across Wonwoo’s chest. A drop makes it to Wonwoo’s face, which wears an expression reading partly that of shock, but mostly of betrayal at his own high being ripped away from him so cruelly.

“You…” Wonwoo begins to say. Minghao grins, giggling at the other boy’s speechlessness as he continues to gape open-mouthed and wide-eyed at the demon.

“I just wanted to mess with you,” he replies through his laughter. He briefly considers just leaving him like that, but he’s had enough experience with extreme orgasm denial that it would be cruel of him to walk away without letting him experience the same release. “I’ll make up for it now.” He lifts himself back onto his knees shuffles down the bed until he’s back in between Wonwoo’s thighs for the last time, laying flat on his stomach. He props himself up on an elbow and brings a hand forward to fist at the head Wonwoo’s cock before reaching over to take one of his, wrapping lithe fingers around the softness of his own. Together, like they had done this whole time, they coax Wonwoo further and further to release until he’s panting and gasping and impatient for the climax he’d been so wrongfully denied.

Before, Minghao had conjured up a storm inside him …

Wonwoo reaches his orgasm in a cry of relief, allowing all his frustrations to flow out as he voices his pleasure and shoots come onto his own stomach, soft lips wrapping around the head to milk the remaining seed from his tortured cock. His entire body relaxes, fatigued from the most exhausting sex he’d ever had in his life - lasting no longer than twenty minutes but using up more energy than he ever had in his life.

… but this, oh, this was a tsunami.