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here4theheartbreak · 1 year

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Heaven Sent, Hell Bound (2Min)

AO3 | AsianFanFics

Relationships: Minho x Taemin Genre: smut | fluff | angel/demon AU Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~15.7k

Tags: Smut, Fluff, Angel/Demon AU, Corruption AU, Alcohol, Angel Choi Minho, Demon Lee Taemin, Getting Together, Dirty Talk, Rough, Bottom Lee Taemin, Top Choi Minho

Summary: Taemin has one final assignment to complete before he can move up in the ranks of Hell's Army. A trifle really, easy. Seduce and corrupt an angel. And he just so happens to know where one is on earth.

Square: Lee Taemin; inspired by tear Of gOd by OnlyOneOf ( @kpopwritingbingo )

The first thing that Taemin learned when he stepped foot on earth was that it stunk. Not in the amazing, eye watering way that his level of hell did, no. This place smelled like rot and despicability that even a demon would grimace at.

The second thing he learned was that angels smell amazing. He should have found it repulsive. The sickly-sweet purity, cutting through all of the decay and depravity. As a self-respecting demon – anything that pure should have made him want to vomit in the most Exorcist manner possible – ideally all over the nearest unsuspecting nun or expectant mother. But not Taemin. As soon as he neared the location of the angel he was hunting, the most delightful, overwhelming joy came over him. He had to physically stop walking to calm his racing heart and keep from rushing toward the source of that delectable scent.

Taemin was a young demon, working his way up through the ranks of their militia. This would be his final promotion, into the ranks of King Asmodeus’ legions – if he could pass this one final test. While most demons in his position waited generations for the opportunity to advance, Taemin’s promotion came with a stroke of celestial luck. In order to advance his rank, Taemin would need to corrupt the incorruptible – a pure blood angel. Of course, with the inability to enter the realm of said angels, it often took years to obtain one to complete the task. Taemin, however, was given the task just as a recently promoted angel was given his own task; to spend a month on earth without the use of his powers, in order to experience the “beauty of humanity”. Taemin knew nothing about his mark, aside from the fact that he would likely be beautiful and smell awful. He was excited about the work ahead, however. Seduction had always been his strong suit and the challenge of a supposedly chaste and perfect angel was exactly what he craved.

Before leaving hell, Taemin had asked some of his friends where they thought an angel on earth might hang out. The answers ranged from churches (duh) to gardens, to Kibum’s droll response of “probably screwing a nun”. None of them had gotten it correct, however.

Bartending, apparently, was where an angel sent to earth chose to spend their time. Specifically, bartending at a tiny little hole in the wall bar, where Taemin was pretty sure he’d seen a rat in the bathroom having dinner with the roaches.

The angel was just as beautiful as Taemin had been led to believe. He had a small, neatly semi-symmetrical face, with dark, emotional eyes. His hair was styled in a simple, unassuming way. His shoulders were broad, and Taemin could see his muscles under the tight black t-shirt he wore, flexing as he cleaned glasses. Though he was quiet for the hour that Taemin observed him from his corner table in the bar, he drew humans to him like moths to a flame. Taemin listened to at least fifteen people spill their woes over a few drinks, all while the handsome man nodded sympathetically.

How he wasn’t losing his mind was beyond Taemin. Didn’t this angel know that this stuff meant nothing in the long run? These humans would live an insect’s span of existence in the greater scheme of things, then die and be judged accordingly. Their tears were wasted over the random men and women they were in “love” with.

Halfway through the second hour, Taemin was ready to out himself as a demon just to give the poor handsome angel a break. Instead, a far more brilliant plan emerged in his mind. He rose slowly, walking carefully toward the bar to avoid drawing too much attention from the humans. He was created as an incubus, which meant that even when he didn’t want it, he tended to draw people’s interest.

Taemin made it to the bar without incident and settled onto a stool a fair distance from the other patron, a young woman who’d been flirting with the angel to no avail for the past twenty minutes.

The angel approached Taemin, his easy smile wavering when he made eye contact. “H—Hi,” he said after a minute. “Need a refill?” He jutted his chin toward the beer bottle in Taemin’s hand.

“No… I actually have a question.”

“Shoot.” The angel leaned down, fixing something under the bar near Taemin’s seat.

“What’s your name?”

The angel glanced up. He smiled brightly, his teeth perfect and straight. No wonder the woman had been flirting with him; that smile alone was to die for. Taemin swallowed hard, mentally scolding his heart for picking up speed.

“Minho. Yours? I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Taemin. I’m new in town. Which was actually what I wanted to ask. How long have you been around? The bar patrons seem friendly with you.”

“A few weeks,” Minho said. He leaned on the counter and faced Taemin. “I’ve just got a way with people. Good listener.”

“I guess that’s important for this job.” Taemin took a sip of his beer. “Do you know if there might be any openings in the bar?” He asked as casually as he could.

“You looking for work?”

Taemin nodded. “Yeah. I’m sort of moving around right now, but this town seems nice. I wouldn’t mind staying here for a bit, so long as I found a place.”

Minho nodded. His gaze lingered on Taemin’s a little too long, brows furrowing for a moment. “Yeah,” he said, a bit distracted. He blinked and shook his head. “Sorry, um… I don’t mean to stare, but you look… Really familiar. Are you sure you’ve never been around?”

Taemin shook his head, shifting his features just enough to give himself an innocent, youthful expression. “Never. I guess I just have one of those faces.” He smiled brightly then and leaned more over the bar. “Is it a pleasant familiarity at least?”

“Oh—” Minho hesitated, confusion crossing his features. Taemin locked gazes with him, letting a whisper of his magic creep out and surround Minho. Minho reacted instantly, straightening up with a grimace. “What?” He asked, a little more sharply.

Taemin withdrew his magic, pouting softly. Well that wouldn’t work. “Sorry, I asked if I was familiar to you, to a good person you knew.”

“Oh.” Minho nodded after a second, seeming to shake off the fog that covered him due to Taemin’s magic. “Yeah, I’d guess so. Most people are pretty good.”

“You have an optimism about yourself,” Taemin said. “Doesn’t it get hard to keep that, working in a bar?”

“Nah.” Minho shrugged. He nodded to a man who entered before looking back to Taemin. “People are inherently pretty great. They just struggle sometimes. Place like this… I see everything.”

Taemin bit his tongue, struggling not to argue about humanities flaws with Minho. That would be the last thing that would make the angel interested in him. He nodded instead, smiling in a way he hoped was understanding and pleasant. He watched Minho walk over to the other end of the bar, leaning forward to chat with the new man that had entered.

Taemin finished his drink and quietly slipped from the bar. The sun was shining warm on his skin, not nearly warm enough to feel comfortable, despite the lack of clothing worn by all the humans around him. He wandered down the sidewalk, doing his best to blend in as he considered his next move.

Minho’s time on earth was meant to be spent living as a human, learning about them and taking those lessons back to heaven. Taemin had misunderstood this as having no powers, but Minho still had some residual celestial power, as evidenced by their conversation. He was able to sense – and reacted negatively – to Taemin’s own seduction power. He likely had some form of angelic charm, drawing the humans to him to spill their guts – though this may have been the alcohol consumption. Not being able to use his power made Taemin’s work in seducing him more of a challenge, but not one he wasn’t happy to take on.

The first thing he needed to do was establish himself as a presence in the handsome angel’s life. Which meant being around him, and being human – at least in appearance. Taemin followed the lingering traces of Minho’s scent to various locations around the small town.

First, a café that stunk of coffee beans and sweat amid the sugar and chemically altered flavorings. Minho must drink this stuff. Taemin made a mental note to determine which flavor he liked.

Next, a small grocery store. Taemin grabbed a basket absentmindedly, following the scent around the aisles and pausing where it seemed stronger, trying to determine what Minho may have grabbed. Did he need to eat? Was his power that removed? Or was it all for show? Another question that Taemin would need an answer to. He purchased a small bag of cinnamon candy, absently chewing it as he wandered to the next location.

This one was a small apartment building. Where Minho lived, possibly? Taemin touched the knob, reaching out with his magic to unlock the main door and slip inside. He traced the scent up to the second floor, lingering at a door emblazoned with a bronze 12 on it. Taemin touched the knob once more, unlocking it and pushing it open carefully. The apartment was sparsely furnished and obviously empty. A chair and table and a small rug were present in the front area. Taemin could see a kitchen, just as sparse – the counters were entirely empty. He crept into the kitchen and opened the fridge, surprised to see it properly filled with food enough for one person. A quick peek through the rest of the cupboards revealed that the kitchen was far less sparsely stocked than the empty counters implied; the angel was apparently just a neat freak.

Stepping deeper into the apartment, Taemin peeked into a clean bathroom, glancing in the medicine cabinet. Basic skincare, toothbrush, things that one would expect to find in the bathroom of a human man equal to the age Minho appeared. Taemin nodded in approval. The angel had done his homework, apparently; he wondered how many humans Minho anticipated coming over to see this façade. Not many, if the lack of a couch was any indication.

The bedroom was the final room Taemin entered. The bed was large and the blanket was white and soft looking. There were a row of pillows in soft blues and purples along the headboard, and a nightstand, empty save for a lamp and a notebook stood at the right. The closet was neatly organized, with an array of shirts and jeans hanging, and a small dresser that was filled with socks and underwear. A few pairs of sneakers and a pair of snowboots were present as well. The boots made Taemin scowl; how long did Minho intend to stay on earth? He pulled open the drawer of the nightstand, unsurprised to find a Bible tucked into it. He was far more surprised, however, to find a bottle of lubricant and a small pile of condoms next to said holy book. Taemin grabbed one of the condoms, smirking at the size; he’d assumed Minho was well endowed – it was nice to have confirmation. However, he’d been under the impression that angels on these sabbaticals couldn’t partake in human acts of sin. Unless he was intending on marrying a human in order to experience sex… Taemin’s scowl deepened. He dropped the condom back into the drawer and shut it with his hip. He crept out of the apartment and locked it back up, sneaking down to the front and exiting once more.

Once outside, he looked over the buzzer box, spotting the one marked ‘Office’. He pressed it and waited. There was an uncomfortable crackle before a tinny woman’s voice answered.

“Yes?”

“Hi, I’m wondering if you guys have any available apartments?”

“How many bedrooms?”

“Just one. Single person.”

“Come in, follow the first floor signs for office, we can talk.” A louder buzz sounded, and Taemin smirked, pulling open the door. He walked into the office, allowing his powers to envelop him as he smiled softly at the woman sitting behind the desk. Her eyes widened slightly as she looked at him.

“Oh—Good morning,” she said, rising.

“Morning, ma’am. My name’s Taemin. I’m new in town. I heard from a friend that you might have an open apartment?”

She rose, nodding. It took her a few seconds to make noise despite her mouth moving, her eyes never leaving Taemin’s.

“Yes, of course,” she said in a rush of breath.

Taemin could smell her arousal from where he stood, thick and pungent as she undressed him with her eyes. Humans. So easy to manipulate. He stepped forward, hiding his laugh behind a cough when she moved backwards in surprise, falling ungracefully into her chair. Taking a seat, he leaned forward and smiled again. “What do I need to do to rent one?”

The woman rattled off a list of requirements, fidgeting with papers in front of her as she did. He could see her squirming in her seat as Taemin pulled the required documents from his pocket for her inspection. He knew he could have just as easily presented her with a piece of paper torn from a year-old newspaper from another country and still gotten the apartment – but why risk it? Minho had done well, presenting as a human; the least Taemin could do was match that energy for his own assignment.

“We have an opening down here,” she said, finally gathering her bearings enough to flirt back. “Right next to my door.”

Taemin smiled, leaning a little closer to her. “Lovely… But I prefer the second floor. Apartments near the number twelve, actually… Old suspicion of mine. Anything there?”

She hesitated a moment before nodding. “Twelve is taken, but thirteen is available. Next to it. An unlucky number, but…”

“It’s perfect,” Taemin said quickly, flashing a bright grin and watching the woman’s eyelids flutter as her arousal spiked.

“H—Here. Just need the deposit.” She placed the keys in front of him, her hand shaking visibly.

Taemin pulled his wallet from his pocket, withdrawing a handful of paper money and sliding it across to her. Her eyes widened. “Oh—”

“I prefer cash. Old soul, I think,” he lied easily. “That’s okay, I hope?”

“Of course, let me write you a receipt. This is well over three months of rent…”

“That’s good. I would like to keep myself advanced on bills.” He grabbed the key and tucked it into his pocket.

When she held out the receipt Taemin took it, sliding his hand over hers. When he did she shuddered, unable to suppress the moan that slipped out as came instantly. Taemin smiled, letting her hand slip from his grip when she slumped back in the chair, barely able to keep her eyes open. A little surge of power spiked his pulse, the energy from her pleasure a delightful treat. Though he didn’t need sexual energy to survive, it was absolutely delicious when he was able to pull it. He wondered how Minho’s energy would taste. Would it have that same floral, delightful pureness? Or would his sinning sour it to something rich and dark? Taemin could barely wait to find out.

Taemin stepped out of the apartment building, taking a moment to gather his bearings. The sky had turned a lovely, fiery orange as the sun began to set. He headed back toward the bar, allowing his magic to extend back to furnish the apartment that he’d rented next to Minho’s place. No reason he couldn’t be comfortable while he completed his assignment, he figured.

The atmosphere around the bar was far livelier than when Taemin had left it earlier in the day. Though he wouldn’t call it exciting, it was far louder and more boisterous, both outside and inside. Minho was still at the bar, his bright grin contagious as he laughed over something a baby faced young man said to him.

Taemin stepped up to them, catching Minho’s eyes. He nodded. “Be with you in just a sec,” he called before stepping down the bar to pass a drink to another customer.

Taemin’s brows rose, surprise cutting through him. He’d never been told to wait before. He pouted a little, leaning on the bar. The boy that had been talking to Minho touched his arm.

“I’m Sungho. I’ve never seen you around before.”

Taemin hesitated, biting back a snide comment. He smiled instead, relaxing the hold he had on his magic instinctively. Sungho’s shoulders slumped a little, his gaze going a bit unfocused as it affected him.

“Taemin,” Taemin took the hand Sungho held out, pressing a kiss boldly to the back of his hand. Despite the spark of energy he gained from the easy seduction, something troubled him. Sure, he could seduce anyone with his magic. Even the most pious of nuns and priests were no match for his power. But that was all it was. Magic. Magic that he couldn’t use to seduce Minho, who had instinctual barriers against it. Even letting it free here, in Minho’s presence, ran the risk of him being outed as demon before he managed to even get a kiss out of the pretty angel. But what was Taemin without that magic? Could he seduce a human – let alone an angel – without the use of his power? The question made Taemin uneasy. He pulled back on his magic, quickly clamping it deep inside of himself, and settled onto the stool next to Sungho.

“I’m new in town,” he said, keeping his voice gentle enough that Sungho had to lean forward to hear him.

“What brings you here?”

“Work. As in, I’m looking for a job. My last one fell through.”

“What do you do?”

“Singer,” Taemin said after a barely noticeable pause. He wasn’t – really – but when it came to human jobs, it was one of the few he knew he could do without problems or excess magic use.

“You’re a singer?” Minho’s voice cut through their conversation. Both Sungho and Taemin looked at him.

Minho smiled sheepishly, taking a step back from the bar. “Sorry, that was very rude. I didn’t mean to listen in.”

“It’s quite alright,” Taemin said smoothly, smiling gently. “I am a singer. Sometimes, when I’m needed as one.”

“You should’ve said that earlier,” Minho said. “We just lost our last performer.” He motioned with his head to the back, where a small stage sat empty. “I bet my boss would be more than happy to talk to you about a job.”

“Yeah? I’d love that. When is he in?”

Minho glanced at his watch. “She usually comes in around ten, so if you’re willing to wait around for an hour?”

“That’s fine. I was gonna have a drink anyways.”

Minho nodded. “What can I get you?”

“You pick.” Taemin grinned brightly. “I trust you.”

Minho’s gaze narrowed a little, his mouth curling up into a smile of his own. “We just met, how am I so trustworthy?”

He shrugged, putting his chin on his hand. “Just a vibe I get. Am I wrong?” He looked at Sungho for confirmation, who smiled and shook his head no.

“Minho’s the best bartender we’ve had in a long time. Very trustworthy guy.”

“Now you’re just flirting,” Minho teased, tossing a cardboard coaster on the counter and setting a glass on it. He grabbed a few bottles and a shaker, setting to work. Taemin watched him for a few moments, drawn in by the way he worked, his movements fluid and precise despite his size.

Their gazes met when Minho poured the vibrant red drink into the glass. He slid it over to Taemin by the coaster, smiling. “Here you go.”

“What is it?” Taemin asked, picking it up.

“A red devil.” Minho said. He tapped the bar. “Lemme know how you like it.” He said before heading down to where an older woman called his name.

Taemin’s brows furrowed. Did Minho know? There was no way. He wouldn’t be relaxing and chatting with him like this if he did. Especially not flirting. Was that flirting? Taemin’s scowl deepened for a moment. Did he even know what human flirting was these days? He’d relied on his magic for so long…

Sungho nudged him. “How is it?” He asked.

“Hm? Oh.” Taemin took a sip, surprised at the fruity flavor with the level of alcohol he’d watched Minho pour into the shaker. “It’s really good,” he said, grinning. “Wanna try?” He offered the glass over.

“Sure.” Sungho took a sip, his eyes widening. He licked his lips. “Oh wow, that is good! I’ll have to order one when he gets back. What’d he call it?”

“A red devil.”

Sungho snorted. “Cute name.”

“How long has he been around here?” Taemin asked, watching Minho move.

“About a month. Feels like he’s been here forever honestly, he’s really fit in fast.”

“Do you know much about him?”

“Not really.” Sungho shrugged. “He rolled into town about a month ago, ended up coming into the bar and talking to the boss. She loved him right away and gave him a job. He said he was looking for a quiet place to settle down for a while, didn’t specify why. Of course, it’s a small town, there were rumors. He was some insane serial killer, he was a government agent, you know.” Sungho snorted. “But he’s just a sweet guy. I know it’s his job to listen to bar patrons complain, but everyone I’ve talked to that’s spoken with him – myself included – he makes you feel really important. He’s very good at his job, I guess, or he just… Loves everyone.”

Taemin smiled softly at Sungho’s description. “He sounds amazing. Are you and he a thing?”

Sungho laughed brightly. “Oh God no, I wish. Me and half the people in this place. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone not flirt with him, even our local pastor makes excuses to come in and flirt.”

“Does he have a partner yet?”

Sungho shook his head. “Not that we know of. Always goes home alone too, sadly. Guy like that…” He slumped his cheek into his hand and sighed heavily. Taemin chuckled into his glass. He knew the feeling.

Taemin nursed his drink for the next hour. Though he wouldn’t get drunk from something as simple as a human alcohol, it was good to keep up appearances. While he did, he watched Minho work, listening into his conversations with various patrons to try and learn anything he could that would help him in his seduction.

Sungho had been correct; everyone flirted with Minho, and while he remained polite about it, he never played into their flirtation, seemingly unaffected. Even the most intense flirting from some of the more beautiful humans, Taemin couldn’t sense a whisper of arousal from him.

Minho’s boss was a handsome older woman that Taemin immediately liked. If this were any other visit to earth, Taemin would have sought her as a bed partner immediately. She sized him up across the table they chose in a quieter corner of the bar.

“Do you have a resume?” She asked.

“No.” Taemin did his best to look chided. “Most of my jobs have been kinda as needed.”

“What have you done in the past?”

“In other towns I’ve worked as singer in bars, kinda like this. I’ve done some maintenance work, some sales work.”

She nodded. “What do you sing?”

“Pop, usually. But I’ll try whatever’s put in front of me.” He grinned at that, relieved when she cracked a small smile at his joke.

“You have confidence for sure, which can be good. Or horrible.” She smirked. “But you’re charming too. You’ve certainly charmed our new bartender, he seemed pretty eager to have me talk to you.”

Taemin smiled brightly at that, glancing at Minho across the bar. “He’s a sweet guy.”

“Do you two know each other?”

Taemin shook his head. “Met today. I came in earlier to ask for work and then later tonight. He overheard me talking to one of the other patrons about singing.”

“So that is impressive. He’s nice, but hard to please. I guess I should give you a shot on that alone.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint.”

She nodded. “I am sure you won’t. Would it be too forward to ask you to start us off on karaoke tonight?” I can bring in a musician if you need one next week, but just to see how you do?”

Taemin nodded. “Of course, I’m up for that.” He grinned. “Anything you want me to sing in particular?”

“Something that will impress me.”

Taemin’s grin shifted into a playful smirk. He turned his head a bit, narrowing his eyes. “You’re setting me up to fail with that,” he said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I feel like you are one tough woman to please. For good reason.”

“Oh?” She put her chin on her hand and tapped her nails against her cheekbone gently. “And why do you think that?”

“You have high standards,” Taemin said. He leaned back, waving his hand absently around the bar. “It’s obvious to see. You run a good place. You’re clean and you make sure your servers aren’t slobs. You’re a person of class and you know it, you expect the best from people because you only hire the best.”

She smiled at that and nodded. “Astute assessment from someone so young. Mostly accurate as well. Do you have a psychology degree?”

“I just like watching people. You learn a lot from just listening.”

“My thoughts exactly. And you are right. I am very tough to please. But I feel like you’re up for the challenge.”

Taemin rose and bowed, smiling coyly. “I’ll do my best.”

He stepped up onto the stage, hesitating a moment to let his eyes adjust to the lights angled toward it. It only took a few more seconds to scroll through the song options on the small screen nearby and select a song that he knew well. The music began almost immediately and he grabbed the mic smoothly, smirking at the nearest bar patron. He began to sing, letting his eyes roam over the small group that began to form. He didn’t need his magic for this, and it felt good; despite not being human, he had been blessed with a number of human talents; music was something he’d always had an affinity for. It was an easy way to draw in his victims – willing participants in this case – and it soothed him deep down.

As he sang, the bar quieted, everyone listening to him. Taemin chose a second song quickly, riding the high of adrenaline and joy that being the focus of attention in this way brought him. He could feel eyes on him, and hear murmurs from the various people as he hit each note with ease.

As the song finished, Taemin spotted the young man he’d first smiled at taking a few tentative steps toward the stage. He crouched to be eye level with the man. “Wanna have a go?”

“I’ve never done that before.”

“It’s easy. And if you’re bad, who cares? You still got to try, right?” He grinned warmly and pulled the man up, helping him figure out the karaoke machine before hopping off the stage. He was immediately approached by a handful of people, asking if he was a professional singer, who he was, where he was from, the voices overlapped to the point even Taemin struggled to understand.

“Hey! Let him breathe!” Came a stern voice from behind them. The group separated immediately, revealing Minho, his arms crossed over his broad chest. The boy on stage began to sing, giving the patrons something else to focus on while Taemin made his escape with Minho.

“That was great,” Minho said as they approached the bar. The owner was behind it, tapping various bottles with the back of a pen as she took notes on a small pad in her hand.

“I told you I can do that,” Minho said, his voice taking on a note of anxiety as he circled around the bar.

“Nonsense, I own this place. If you keep doing everything for me, what should I do? Put on a dress and look pretty? Serve drinks?” She slapped Minho playfully on the chest and turned to face Taemin, who’d stopped in front of the bar.

“Plus, you were rescuing our new resident celebrity. You said you could sing – not that you were that good at it.”

“I’m okay,” Taemin said, smiling softly. It was a strange feeling, Minho’s gaze on him. It made him feel almost modest.

She snorted. “Understatement of the century, kid. You have the job, if you want it.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Sing. Just like that. Starting off karaoke like that at night would be great. The more they sing, the more they drink. But I want some real performances from you too… Once a week to start. If you’re willing to come in at least three other nights to work karaoke and…” She drifted off. “I think he could be behind the bar a bit. Not serving drinks, but he could help you take orders when it gets busy. Keep the customers happy and talking… Would that work for you?” She asked, looking at Minho.

He nodded. “I think that would work. Minho met Taemin’s gaze, smirking softly. “He certainly has a fanbase already.” He nodded behind Taemin. Taemin glanced back, spotting a few of the people that had come up to him after he left the stage. They were watching him closely, talking in one another’s ears. He flashed a bright grin and shook his head, turning back to the two.

“I’d be happy to come in, that all sounds great. Do you want me to give you a list of songs I’m good at singing? For a DJ or someone?”

“Yeah. You can write it out and bring it to Minho tomorrow. For now, come to the back with me. Contracts, legal stuff, gotta work it out with you.”

Taemin followed her to the back room, listening politely as she explained the legal aspects of the job. It didn’t really matter to Taemin; he wasn’t going to be staying long enough for any of this to be relevant, and he didn’t need money when he could just conjure it, but making a good impression was everything – especially since this woman had just given him his in to getting that handsome angel in his bed.

After everything was signed and agreed on, the boss offered her hand. “I’m so rude. I never introduced myself. I’m Jian.”

“Nice to meet you.” Taemin shook her hand firmly. “Can I ask you something that might be entirely out of line?”

“Shoot. Now’s the time to ask, you’re not officially my employee until tomorrow.”

He chuckled. “I suppose not. Um… Minho.”

She smirked. “What about him?”

“Is he… Um… You know. Are you and he…”

She laughed brightly then and shook her head quickly. “Oh God, no. No, he’s available for you.”

“F—For me?” Taemin did his best to look bewildered. She smiled, tilting her head to the side.

“Oh, as if I didn’t notice the way you two were looking at each other. He is far too young for me, plus I don’t date employees. He is a handsome man though. You could do worse.”

Taemin smiled sheepishly, lowering his gaze to the desk.

“I don’t have a ban on employees dating, by the way… If it comes to that. Just don’t let it affect work if you do, okay?”

“I doubt it’ll… You know.” Taemin rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he was doing a convincing job of looking shy. “Sungho said he was kinda distant in that way, not really into dating.”

“Not into dating customers. Which is a damn good mindset. One I hope you take to heart. But I’ve never seen him act like he did tonight.”

“How so?” Taemin asked softly.

“That boy nearly ran around the bar to save you from your gaggle of new fans. You’d think you were some idol and he was your body guard with the way he protected you. It’s cute.”

Taemin’s smile grew then, and his heart gave a little flutter. Strange – he didn’t recall it ever doing that before. “Yeah?” He asked, realizing it was far easier to sound hopeful.

She nodded. “Yeah. Trust me. I’ve got a good eye for these things.” She patted Taemin’s wrist. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Remember to bring Minho that list so I can get it looked over. I have a few different musicians that like playing, but they prefer playing for a singer, so, a list will help me figure out who can come in and when, that’ll help us narrow down your schedule too.”

“Of course, I’ll bring it tomorrow afternoon, so he can give it to you right away.”

She nodded again. “Good boy. Come on. Things will be busy for the rest of the night, I’ve gotta help out Minho. You’re welcome to stay, watch how we do it. It’d be great if you could pick up a few things yourself, start helping him with basic drinks.”

“I’m happy to learn.”

Taemin walked back out with her, surprised to see that the bar had filled far more in the thirty minutes they’d spent in the back. He circled around, spotting a seat at the bar that he could slip onto and watch Minho work. There was little time to talk through the remainder of the night, as Jian had implied; they seemed to draw a lot of business for being in such a small town.

Taemin could feel the energy drifting through the bar in waves – all of the emotions clashing together in a loud orchestra that made every nerve ending light up. He wondered if Minho felt the same way; if angels could pick up on the little energy changes the way demons were taught to. It would make sense, he supposed. But he knew very little about angels, on purpose; they guarded their secrets closely lest they be found out and brought down by some hellspawn. Taemin smirked into his glass at the thought. Demons hadn’t given any serious thought to angels in many millennia. They’d moved onto bigger and better things; it was angels that were stuck in the past. Aside from these occasional silly tests, demons could care less about angels and their comings and goings.

Taemin slipped out of the bar before closing and headed back toward his apartment. He didn’t want to have Minho find out about his living situation quite yet – let them develop a friendship first, then have it be a lovely coincidence. He grinned when he entered his now furnished apartment. While the angel’s next door was minimalist and white, Taemin had gone with a far more drastic pattern. A large black and red rug filled the living room, with a comfortable black leather couch and a large television, as well as a dark cherry wood coffee table. The curtains were heavy and crimson, blocking out all light when closed. His bedroom was similar, the king-sized bed covered with black silk sheets and a deep red comforter.

Taemin stripped nude and slipped under the cover, sighing contentedly. Sleep was voluntary as a demon, but he’d never turn down the excuse for rest. It was one of those human things that he simply couldn’t get enough of. His dreams that night were filled with an entirely different view of the world than he was used to. Instead of death, sex, and flames, Taemin found himself walking through a meadow with Minho, his wings vibrant white to Taemin’s sleek black feathers. Their fingers were laced together as they walked, settling down to rest near a babbling stream.

Taemin could hear Minho’s heart pounding as he rested his head on his chest, and his own matched the rapid beat. Contentment, Taemin realized in his dream. That was what he felt here. Contentment and peace… And something entirely new. A strange feeling that made his heart patter against his ribs and his stomach flutter like a thousand flies were trapped in it. A feeling he didn’t quite have a name for, though it was on the tip of his tongue. A feeling that he finally named, waking with a jolt as the sun rose in the sky.

Love.

Despite the uncomfortable wake up call, Taemin brushed it off as he got ready for his day. Eating was voluntary – but Taemin couldn’t resist the allure of an aggressively sweet bowl of sugary cereal as he researched common flirting practices of humans – through some popular television programs, of course. Afterward, he took a moment to write out some songs that he wouldn’t mind performing to give to Minho. Though this was all a part of his ultimate task, he found himself somewhat excited about the prospect of performing like this. He’d never been on earth this long before; normally he only came to visit to seduce his quota of innocent souls before slinking back to his home in hell. He hadn’t realized just how much there was to do up here.

When Taemin had determined he’d wasted enough of the day on research (and binge watched that particular program because he needed to see if they ended up together), he changed into a pair of form fitting jeans a black t-shirt and boots before heading down to the bar once again.

Despite it being a Sunday afternoon, the bar was just as busy as it had been the day before. Taemin recognized many of the faces, though there were a number of new ones as he made his way to the bar. Minho smiled when he entered, jutting his chin toward Taemin in greeting as he listened to the customer in front of him. Taemin approached quietly, taking a seat at the bar.

Minho nodded to the customer, making a quick excuse about having another patron, and hurried over to Taemin.

“You’re welcome for the escape,” Taemin teased softly. Minho smiled gratefully.

“He’s nice. Just talkative. Want a drink?”

“Sure. The one you made last night was great.”

“I’m surprised it didn’t knock you on your butt; that drink is strong.”

Taemin shrugged. “I’ve got a high tolerance.”

Minho snorted. He pulled out the bottles, beginning to make the drink. “I’d say. You sounded really good last night by the way. I was impressed.”

“Thank you.” Taemin smiled softly. “Oh, I brought the list.” He pulled out the paper and slid it across the bar. Minho took it, his eyes moving back and forth as he skimmed the songs. He nodded and tucked it into his pocket. “I’ll get it to Jian when she comes in. Are you gonna be here tonight? We could use another karaoke starter,” he teased. He slid the vibrant drink over to Taemin.

“I’d be glad to. Any requests?” Taemin leaned over the bar a little, putting his chin on his hand.

Minho’s gaze narrowed, his mouth thinning. He tapped his chin in thought. “Something sweet. I like happy songs.”

“Songs about falling in love?” Taemin asked,

Minho smiled softly and nodded. “Yeah, those ones are good.”

Taemin nodded in agreement. “I’ll sing one just for you tonight then.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Minho said, holding up a finger as he walked toward the other end of the bar.

Taemin finished his drink and paid before stepping outside. Having nowhere in particular to go, but not wanting to linger around the bar for longer than necessary, lest Minho find something suspicious, Taemin wandered down the sidewalk, following traces of Minho’s angelic scent as he did. This trail led him to a beautiful park, tucked away behind an office building. The center was filled with a lush garden of flowers, and around it was a beautifully kept meadow. Taemin’s heart skipped a beat, his skin tingling with déjà vu as he walked through the meadow. It ended at a small stream, winding lazily around and disappearing under a bridge. Recognition hit Taemin like a brick. His dream; he’d seen this exact meadow in his dream. He spun around, half expecting to find Minho – or some other angelic presence – watching him, outing him as a demon. But the park was empty, save for an elderly man walking along the trail surrounding the meadow.

The uneasy feeling of being watched didn’t stop even when Taemin left the field and headed back toward his apartment. His skin tingled, nerves further fraying whenever someone glanced at him, no matter how innocently. He hurried back toward his apartment, this new feeling of insecurity one he didn’t relish. A part of him wanted nothing more than to disappear, fly back into hell and curl up in his warm home, forget about the angel and earth and the promotion. But something held him back, kept him from turning tail and running. A part that kept thinking of the promise he made to Minho, to sing a love song, and the remembering the way Minho’s hand felt in his in the dream, how the new fluttering sensation in his tummy and heart tickled like nothing he’d ever felt before. Maybe it was the thrill of a new experience, maybe it was something wholly different, but whatever it was, it made Taemin want to see this through.

He returned to the bar that evening, his motivation renewed. As he’d assumed it would be, the bar was far busier, and he barely had a moment to say hello to Minho before the other was stepping away to take another order. Jian was behind the bar as well, serving drinks and chatting with patrons. She waved Taemin over when she spotted him.

“I got your list, I sent it out to the musicians I know, they should be getting back to me throughout the week. I’m pretty confident that we’ll have you sing a formal set, about an hour or so, this upcoming Friday, but I don’t know who will be playing with you. Is that okay?”

Taemin nodded. “I’m easygoing with it. Just let me know whenever you find out.”

“Would you be willing to do a little tonight? We have an older crowd on Sunday nights, so we likely won’t get much, but a few might want to sing after you.”

“I can give it a shot. Should I go now, or wait?”

“Give it about an hour. Wanna come back behind the bar and let me show you some of the basics?”

Taemin nodded. He rose and circled around the bar, easily dodging Minho’s arm by ducking under him. Jian chuckled. “A natural. Those fast reflexes will come in handy back here.”

The evening passed quickly while Taemin worked to learn the ropes of the bar. Though it would have been just as easy to pull from the infinite knowledge his magic could give him, there was a fun little thrill he felt in learning and succeeding in these new things. They were simple, he knew, given what he was, but it brought a feeling of joy he’d not felt in many years.

As the night drew on, Taemin climbed onto the stage once more, choosing a few older songs to appeal to the crowd that filled the seats that night. A few individuals came up after him, but more asked him to sing another song, even requesting he sing this or that that they liked. He humored a few requests, singing every little while between bursts of heavy business at the bar.

Though he hadn’t intended to, Taemin stayed until close, helping Jian and Minho clean up the tables and close down the bar. She clapped her hand on his shoulder as they stepped out into the early morning air, cooled off with the lack of sun.

“Thank you for your hard work tonight, Taemin. You did so much more than was expected.”

“Honestly,” Minho agreed, locking up the back door of the bar. “You were a massive help; I don’t think we’ve ever gotten orders out so fast.”

“He picked it up so quickly too. You’re sure you’ve not bartended before?”

Taemin smiled sheepishly, his stomach fluttering with excitement over their praise. “No, I haven’t. I’m a quick study though. I’m glad I could help.”

“Do you need a ride home?” Jian asked, motioning to her car in the parking lot.

“No, I live walking distance,” Taemin said. He bit his tongue. “Just up a few blocks.”

Minho cocked his head to the side. “What building?”

Taemin told him, trying to sound casual as he spoke.

“Hey, no kidding? That’s where I live.”

“Really?” Taemin grinned. “What a crazy coincidence. Wanna walk home with me?”

Minho nodded. He gave Jian a quick hug. “See you on Tuesday?”

“Of course. Night.” She squeezed Taemin’s shoulder again before walking to her car and getting in. Minho and he waited until she drove off before heading down the street toward the apartment building.

Taemin had about a hundred things he wanted to say to Minho while they walked, but for the first time in his very long life, he found himself entirely unable to speak. Nothing his mind helpfully supplied sounded right or good to start with, and nothing he wanted to ask seemed appropriate as they walked in the quiet early morning. It was ultimately Minho that broke the silence first.

“Your singing tonight was really something. Some of the folks that were there until we closed usually don’t stay for more than a drink or two.”

“Thank you,” Taemin said, smiling softly. “I don’t know if it was entirely my singing that caused them to stay though.”

“Oh, it was, trust me. I’ve been working there long enough to know some of these folks very well.”

“How long have you been there? Everyone seems to know you and be comfortable with you.”

Minho shrugged. “I’ve just got that way with people; can make them open up and relax.”

“That’s a good quality. Have you always been able to do that? Little boy Minho talking to the grown-ups like he was a psychologist?”

Minho’s smile softened a little. He shrugged. “It’s an inborn gift. Same as you seem to have a way with your own gifts. You’re very charismatic. Even when you messed up tonight, nobody seemed to mind. I’ve watched some of those patrons rip our waitresses a new one just for looking at them wrong.”

“People are complex,” Taemin said. “Sometimes they react without thinking.”

“And sometimes certain types just… Work for them.” Minho agreed. He unlocked the door to the building and let Taemin step in. “I’m on the second floor. You?”

“Me too. Apartment thirteen.”

Minho’s brows furrowed. “Thirteen?”

“Yeah? What… Did you know someone who lived there before?”

“No, it’s… Always been empty since I’ve been here. It’s weird, actually. I’m twelve.”

“Really?” Taemin feigned what he hoped was an appropriate level of pleasant surprise. “What a crazy coincidence! I should’ve stuck around last night, we could’ve walked back together like this.”

Minho nodded, still watching Taemin. He turned away only once they ascended the stairs. Taemin tried to remain relaxed in his posture, keeping a gentle smile on his face. Minho’s expression was unsettling; like he knew more than he was letting on.

“I’ll see you later,” Minho said when they reached their doors.”

“Jian said the bar isn’t open tomorrow?”

“No she’s closed on Mondays.”

Taemin leaned against his door, facing Minho. “What do you plan on doing tomorrow?”

Minho inhaled deeply, glancing down the hall. He shrugged. “I usually just walk around town. There’s a church I visit, volunteer a little time there. Wanna come with me?”

Taemin hesitated. Though there would be no actual physical harm in him going into a church – they made him distinctly uncomfortable for very obvious reasons. He pursed his mouth in thought.

“What time?” He asked finally. Minho smirked. He leaned back a bit, his gaze nearly sizing Taemin up as they stood.

“I’ll come get you around eleven.”

“Sounds good. Should I dress in any certain way?”

“No, it’s usually not too bad of work, helping out sorting papers or cleaning up the parish.”

Taemin nodded. “Sure, I’ll be up.” He unlocked his door and opened it. “Thanks for walking me home.”

“No problem.” Minho hesitated for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something further. Instead he nodded once, entering his own apartment and shutting the door softly. Taemin heard the lock click before entering his own apartment, barely able to hide the smile that appeared on his face as he got ready for bed.

Though Taemin was anticipating hours of discomfort the next day at the church, it was far calmer than he expected. The pastor was a young man with a warm smile. Taemin would have gladly seduced him at another time, but his focus was solely on capturing Minho’s affections in the far slower human manner.

They spent four hours at the church, working with a few other people that Taemin recognized from the bar, including Sungho, to clear out the basement for an upcoming charity sale. Taemin found himself relaxing as he worked, chatting with the humans and forgetting for periods of time that he was there for only one purpose. This was actually nice, he realized; and humans weren’t as boring or awful as his schooling in hell would have led him to believe.

After finishing at the church, Minho left, stating that he needed to help someone with some indistinct chore. Though Taemin was ready to offer his assistance, Sungho grabbed his shoulder. “You wanna come to the diner with us? Our treat. Welcoming you to town, and a thanks for helping us today.”

Taemin agreed easily, waving goodbye to Minho without a second thought until he’d already sat down at the table with the humans. He was here for Minho… Yet he was not only willing – but even happy – to socialize with humans that did not influence his job at all. It was nearly as unsettling as the field the day before had been. What was happening to him?

The answer to that question became clear as days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. Humanity, friendship, and a newfound understanding of mortal life – Taemin was experiencing a new side of existence, one he’d so long overlooked. He tried to keep his mission in mind, seduction, moving up the ranks, the power he would receive after sleeping with this angel, ruining him… But as the days passed, the assignment drifted further to the back of his thoughts until, after a few months, Taemin only thought of it late at night, when he wasn’t so tired from his work or hanging out with Minho, Jian, Sungho, or any of the other friends he’d made in the town that he went to sleep right away.

He hadn’t forgotten that he was a demon – nothing could make him lose that part of himself – but he no longer required his powers to live. He’d been spending money that he earned through the bar work, rather than conjuring it. The week prior, he and Sungho had gone shopping a town over, and he purchased some antique statues to put on shelves he’d bought and Minho had helped him set up. His kitchen remained stocked through shopping trips, and he often replenished drinks and food after nights with friends coming over to watch a human sport, play cards, or just to chat. As demonic as the blood was that ran through Taemin’s veins – he had never felt more human.

Minho was still a very present force in his life, but it was easier to see him as a human that Taemin was interested in, rather than an angel. That interest had changed as well, Taemin knew. While he started the assignment seeing Minho as a means to an end, an experiment, a tool, now he saw him as a friend. A dear friend that he wanted so desperately to be more. Not just sleeping with him either – though the thought of that sent a delightful thrill down Taemin’s belly, stirring up the butterflies that had taken up permanent residence there, it seemed. No, he wanted the dream he’d had his first night on earth. Holding hands, affection… Love.

But he knew he couldn’t. As human as he felt, he wasn’t one, and neither was Minho. A relationship like what Taemin craved would ruin Minho, and while that was, ultimately, Taemin’s original goal, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Part of him knew he’d failed in his mission. He should have gone back to hell the moment he realized, without a doubt, that he would never corrupt Minho in such a way. But going back to hell meant leaving the friends he’d made, his job, Minho. And that was almost worse than having to report his failure. So he stayed, promising just another week, another month, and then he’d go back.

Seven months after Taemin had stepped foot on earth, he and Minho were sharing a table at the bar, having a few drinks on a night that they weren’t working. Jian had recently hired a third bartender, giving Minho more days off, despite his unwillingness to take them at first.

“Will you sing tonight?” Minho asked, motioning to the stage where a couple of college age girls were crooning off key to some popular song. Taemin shook his head.

“Not tonight. Just wanna chat with you.”

“Just chat?”

Taemin’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” He asked after a moment when he was unable to process the implication. Minho smiled softly.

“It’s been seven months since we met.”

“Has it been so long?” Taemin smiled in return. “Feels a lot longer in a good way – and not that long at all.”

“I know. We had a pretty quick friendship, didn’t we? Especially for what we are.”

“What we are?”

Minho’s smile returned. He rested his chin on one hand. I know, Taemin. What you are. Where you’re from.”

Taemin’s heart clenched in a vise of panic. He smiled despite the sudden urge to run from the bar. “What are you talking about? You know where I lived last or something? Little creep. Stalking me?”

Minho’s patient smile remained. “Taemin. Drop the act. You’re a demon.”

Taemin pouted full force. “That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

Minho sighed. He waved the hand his chin wasn’t on, and the entire bar stilled.

Taemin whipped his head around, surprised at the rush of energy he felt. Every human sat frozen, mid-drink, laugh, even the beer being poured at the bar was locked in time.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to use your powers while you were on this sabbatical,” Taemin said softly. He looked back at Minho, his throat clenching. The burst of energy had revealed Minho’s truer form, beautiful wings emerging from his back, and a glowing pale blue aura that matched the natural color of his eyes. He smiled. “We’re not. But you were being stubborn.”

“I hoped you were joking.” Taemin sighed softly, disappointment creeping into his voice as he spoke. “When did you realize it?”

“The first time I saw you.”

“What?”

Minho shrugged. “I was informed that there might be demons out. Trying to make me break my vows. That it’s a special thing, an angel like me. I was taught what to look for. And when I smelled you in my apartment that night, it confirmed it.”

“Ah – I thought I covered my tracks better.”

“You did. But I was already on high alert.”

“Why didn’t ranks of your superiors come to throw me back into the pits of hell?”

Minho remained silent for a moment. “Because I didn’t tell them. I still haven’t.”

“What?” Taemin shouted, surprised. “Minho—You have to.”

“Says who? Demons roam among humanity constantly. How was I to know you were after me and not just out to corrupt humans? As an angel meant to learn how humans live, wouldn’t it make sense to study the demons who influence them?”

“But I was in your place.”

“You were.”

“And constantly around you.”

“You have been,” Minho agreed, his lips curling up into a smile.

“So… It’s pretty obvious what my intentions were.”

Minho leaned forward, cupping his chin in both hands this time. “What are your intentions then, Taemin?”

“To…” Taemin’s cheeks warmed. He looked away, shame eating a hole in his stomach. “To corrupt you. Make you fall.”

“And how is it that you do that?”

“You know how.”

“Mm. I do.” Minho leaned back in his seat again and took a sip of his drink. “I also know you’ve had more than enough time to do the job. You’re stalling. Why?”

“I’m not stalling,” Taemin mumbled. “I’m waiting for the right time. Plus, you already knew what I was supposed to do, you’d never let me succeed.”

“True. But you didn’t know that. So what’s been stopping you? You’re a sex demon, I can tell that much. But you haven’t used your powers. On me or anyone else, since you’ve been here.”

“I didn’t want you to smell it.”

“Fair. But after this long. Taemin… I have given you plenty of opportunities to try.”

Taemin swallowed hard. Minho wasn’t wrong. Especially in the past few months, lingering touches, glances, even a few close, slow dances – he had had more than enough time to steal a kiss, begin the seduction process properly. He hung his head.

“I can’t do it. I’m a failure, is that what you wanted to hear?” He snorted. “Spent years trying to work my way up the ranks, and at the last step I fell down. Because I let myself feel something for the one thing I couldn’t.” He shook his head, meeting Minho’s gentle gaze. “I’m sure that’s a story your superiors will love to hear. A demon who fell for an angel.”

“I’m sure they would, if I spoke to them still.”

“What do you mean?”

“When’s the last time you checked in with your superiors?”

“You know I can’t divulge that—”

“I don’t need details.” Minho sipped his drink again and waved his hand. His wings disappeared, his form shifting ever so slightly back into the human looks as the bar burst with life and energy once more. He sipped his drink. “Just a vague time.”

“About three months ago,” Taemin said.

“It’s been two months for me.”

Taemin scowled at him. “Why?”

Minho hesitated. He spun the now empty bottle in his hand, thumb picking at the label. “Finish your drink, then come take a walk with me. We’ll be able to talk better if we’re alone, I think.”

Taemin did as he was told, swallowing the last mouthful of his drink before rising. They tossed the bottles away and waved to Jian as they walked out into the cold night. Snow had begun falling months ago, and was now starting to melt away with the impending spring.

The two walked in silence for some time, heading in the vague direction of their apartment building, but taking a meandering path through the streets. Finally, Minho spoke.

“I haven’t spoken to them because I don’t want to go back.”

“To heaven? Why not?”

“How much do you know about it? Heaven?”

“Not much. Honestly, we don’t really care.” Taemin chuckled. “Angels love to think we’re trying to get some secrets or something. Take over heaven or ruin earth, I don’t know. Really we’re just… Doing our own thing. We know about you, and when rare things like this assignment come up, we know more, but… The details don’t matter.”

“Well, it sucks.” Minho said simply enough that Taemin stopped walking, his eyes widening. “You—But you’re an angel.”

“Yeah? And you’re a demon. How’s hell? Honestly.”

“Hot,” Taemin admitted, smiling sheepishly.

“Do you love it? Can you wait to get back there, go hang out with your demon buddies and torture souls?”

“That’s… Not true, we don’t… Actually do much torturing,” Taemin mumbled. “But I’m in no rush to get back, you’re right.”

“We’ll go back to the torture thing, but, right? It’s fine where we’re from, but here is so much richer. It’s not so black and white.”

“People don’t expect things from you just because you’re this or that,” Taemin agreed.

“Exactly. So yeah, compared to earth, heaven is boring. And I’m sure hell is too. I don’t want to stop my sabbatical yet, because I don’t want to go back up there. Same reason you haven’t told your superiors that your assignment failed. And why I don’t think you will any time soon.”

They reached their apartment building and Minho grabbed Taemin’s wrist. “And what’s more… I don’t think you’re used to feeling this way in hell. About someone else.”

Taemin looked down. Those now familiar butterflies scattered in his belly again. He nodded. “I know what it is. But we don’t… Really discuss or admit to it in hell.”

“It’s a nice feeling, isn’t it?”

“Once you get used to the butterflies, yeah.” Taemin looked up, letting his gaze linger a moment on Minho’s soft lips, curled up into a soft smile, before meeting his gaze.

“Come up to my apartment,” Minho offered. “We can talk some more. Better than standing in the cold.”

“Have you redecorated? Last time I was in there you had zero places to sit.”

Minho laughed softly. “Fair enough. I still really don’t. Yours then.”

Taemin nodded. They walked up in silence, stripping out of their winter damp clothes by the door before Minho entered the living room and settled onto the couch. Taemin lingered in the kitchen, instinctively beginning to pull out food before hesitating.

“I really have gone native,” he commenting.

“How so?”

“I was about to offer you food and drink.”

“I will take a drink, actually. Might not need it, but humanity got it right when they started making these consumable items.”

“Right?” Taemin laughed a bit. He grabbed two fruity drinks and a box of cookies before entering the living room. He sat down next to Minho. “Honestly, their idea of sweets and their use of sugar is the best thing I’ve experienced.”

Minho laughed and nodded. They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their drinks. It was Taemin that spoke first.

“So if you know what I am, and that I like you… What about you? I mean, we’re friends, I think, but I don’t know anything more. I can’t get a sense of what you feel. Can you feel anything? Do you?”

Minho cleared his throat. He picked at the label on the bottle in his hands, bottom lip moving slightly as he chewed the inside of it. “I do feel things for you. Things that my superiors would have my wings for. I didn’t mean to start liking you. I knew what you were, at first I kept you close just to make sure you didn’t hurt someone but… Then I realized you’re not a bad person. Or… Demon, I guess. And then I really started liking your friendship and that turned into something else. At first I worried I was being seduced by your magic, but I know you haven’t been using it.”

“Not for seven months, honestly,” Taemin admitted. “I knew it wouldn’t work on you, so I had to practice not using it. Then it just became easier to do things the human way.”

“And you made friends. Real human friends.”

“I did. Our friends are important to me. I know a big reason why I’m sticking around still is because of those friendships. So, you actually like me? Even though you know what I am?”

Minho nodded. “I do.”

“What do we do about it?” Taemin asked.

Minho sighed. “I don’t know. It’s a catch-22. As much as I don’t want to go back to heaven… I don’t want to fall.”

“And intimacy with a demon is grounds for falling.”

Minho nodded, his face twisted up in discomfort. “So I mean, we could date in the human sense – going out together for dinners and stuff like that but… Any real intimacy…”

“Would be off limits.”

“Yeah, for the most part. There are a few loopholes.”

“Like what?” Taemin tilted his head.

Minho smirked. “You’re the demon, you don’t know?”

“No, and I’m both offended that you think I should just because I’m a demon… And concerned and surprised that I don’t.” Taemin said, grinning as he spoke to let Minho know he was joking.

Minho leaned back on the couch, his smirk shifting into a more relaxed, albeit just as smug, grin. “Apparently, I learned… I can touch myself, even to the point of orgasm… Without falling. No matter who I’m thinking about.”

“Really? I thought good God-fearing people weren’t supposed to spill their seed.”

Minho shrugged. “Some of that book is… Wildly misinterpreted. Biologically, these bodies just… Ejaculate. It’s nobody’s doing, not a demon or an angel. It’s science. So pleasuring yourself isn’t some big sin. Now… What you think about does matter. I have a few feathers that have… Darkened in the past few months.”

Taemin leaned forward. “You’ve jerked off? Thinking about me?”

Minho squirmed, and Taemin watched his cheeks redden.

“Don’t try to lie, I can smell that you know. I’m a demon. How much?”

“You’re telling me you haven’t?” He mumbled.

“I have. More than a few times. But I’m a demon. It’s kinda my thing. What were you imagining?” He pressed.

Minho squirmed again, looking anywhere but at Taemin.

Taemin sighed. “Fine, keep it a secret. But I expect details at some point. So, okay, you can touch yourself.”

“And I can touch myself thinking of you. Which would imply that as long as you aren’t touching me sexually, we’d be okay.”

“I suppose that makes sense. So that gives us a few avenues.”

“And hanging out together obviously doesn’t do any damage. We’ve slow danced together before and it was fine too. I think that it’s limited to actual sexually intimate things.”

“What about… Kissing?” Taemin asked softly.

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to risk it. Since it is a more intimate thing.”

Taemin nodded. “I understand. So we could date, sort of.”

“It doesn’t feel fair to you.”

“You aren’t getting a much better side of the deal though, it’s not like it’d be easy for either one of us. I think we just need to decide if it’s worth it.”

“I stayed on earth for you. Partly for you, I mean. It’s worth it for me.”

Taemin smiled softly at that. “And I guess I stayed for you too, partly so… It’s worth it for me too.”

Minho set his bottle down and took Taemin’s, setting it on the coffee table. He took Taemin’s hands in his own, making the other meet his gaze. “I just have one thing that you need to promise me.”

“Of course.”

“You won’t use your powers. Those ones, you know. On anyone. If we date…”

“I won’t. I’ve been the most celibate sex demon in existence lately, I’m sure. I have no problem keeping it that way.”

Minho smiled at that, his entire face brightening. “I wish I could kiss you,” he whispered.

Taemin leaned forward, moving his head to the side and placing a kiss on Minho’s cheek. “There. It’s better than nothing, right?”

Minho closed his eyes and nodded. He placed a kiss on Taemin’s cheek as well. “So I think this means you deserve a real date from me, right?”

“I would think so. If we wanna do things like the humans do.”

“Next week, when we’re off work. We’ll go to the next town. There’s that restaurant Sungho mentioned he took Junhyung to. We should go there.”

Taemin nodded, grinning at the thought. “Yes. Good, that sounds like a great first date.”

“But until then… I should get back to my place,” Minho said softly.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow at work?”

“Of course.” Minho finished off his drink and rose. Taemin followed, walking with him to the door.

“I’m glad we talked. But you could have told me earlier you knew what I was. I wouldn’t have fought so hard to hide it.”

Minho smirked. “What would the fun be then?”

“You’re conniving for an angel.”

Minho’s grin grew wider. He leaned closer to Taemin, their noses nearly brushing. “You have no idea.” With that he walked out, leaving Taemin gaping at the spot he vacated. He heard Minho’s door close before he snapped out of it, laughing softly in surprise.

Dating an angel was surprisingly easy, at least for the first few months. They went out on dates at least weekly – sometimes doubling with the other couples in their friend group, sometimes alone. They maintained a polite distance at work, despite Jian’s constant teasing about their affectionate looks across the bar, and Taemin’s sudden uptick in love songs during performances.

But as spring turned to summer and the weather warmed, so did their needs. Taemin found himself having to actively resist kissing Minho far more often than usual, and even Minho’s touches became more lingering and heavier with implication than they had before. Once they’d attempted to stay in the same room while masturbating, testing the theory that it was only touches from Taemin that would corrupt Minho, but both realized it was far too much temptation to cross the room and help each other that they never tried it again.

Even sexting was off the table, as their proximity in living spaces was just too risky. They prided themselves on their ability to keep calm heads regarding intimacy, but it was a visible struggle on both sides.

The two went out on the one-year anniversary of the day that they met, going into the next town for dinner and a concert that they were both interested in. As the night passed, that ache in Taemin’s chest seemed to grow so much larger. He desperately wanted Minho in every way, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to resist. But he knew why Minho was reluctant, and he respected that.

When the two arrived back at their apartment building, Minho lingered by his door.

“Wanna come in for a while?” Taemin offered.

“I do,” Minho whispered, but made no move to approach. Taemin waited, smiling gently. He pushed his door opened, beckoning Minho forward. Minho hesitated further. He wet his lips, looking down at the ground a moment.

“What’s the matter?” Taemin asked. He reached out, touching Minho’s cheek. Minho leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. He set his hand over Taemin’s, lacing their fingers together. The familiar tingle of his magic ignited the nerves down Taemin’s arm, drawing goosebumps to his flesh as his own magic rushed back toward Minho; a gentle intimacy that they were allowed despite their forced distance.

Minho opened his eyes suddenly, his pupils wide and dark. He went forward suddenly, pushing Taemin into the apartment as he did. The door slammed behind him as he turned them, pressing Taemin to the wall with his body.

Taemin gasped as the air was knocked from his lungs. “Minho—”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Minho whispered, leaning closer to him. Taemin gasped again, realizing what he was about to do. He braced his hands against Minho’s shoulders and shoved, using just enough of his powers to force the angel backwards.

“We can’t.”

Minho gritted his teeth, baring them for a second. “Please, Taemin – I know you want it to.”

“I do.” Taemin said softly. He relaxed, stepping forward and setting his hands on Minho’s broad shoulders. “I do, you know I do. Take your shoes off, I’ll get us something to drink, and we can talk. I think it’s time for us to do that anyways.”

Minho nodded, closing his eyes. He took a second to compose himself before leaning down to remove his shoes. Taemin stepped back, doing the same before heading into the kitchen. He heard Minho shuffling through the apartment, and the soft whoosh of the couch as he sat. Taemin tried to keep his actions slow and even, not wanting to rush back into the room. He wanted to give Minho a second to gather himself, recover from what had nearly happened, before they approached it. Things could only go one of two ways tonight, Taemin figured, and he wasn’t sure which would make Minho the happiest.

He settled onto the couch next to Minho, remaining quiet as he set two glasses of wine in front of them. Minho was leaning forward, his eyes closed and his hands clasped into a fist over his mouth, as if he were praying.

Taemin leaned back, folding one leg under him and raising the other onto the couch. He clasped his hands around his knee, watching Minho patiently.

After what felt like hours, Minho sighed heavily and opened his eyes. He looked at Taemin, his expression stoic.

“I poured the wine you like,” Taemin said carefully.

“Thank you.” Minho took a sip, staring into the dark red liquid.

“Were you praying?” Taemin asked.

“Yes.”

Taemin nodded. He brought his leg down, crossing them and leaning forward. “Did your God offer any advice?”

“No. He’s been quiet for quite some time. I think they’ve given up on me up there by now.”

“That doesn’t sound much like the religion I know of.”

Minho smiled briefly. “No, it doesn’t, but… It feels that way. I understand now why humans can be so easily swayed away from it. His silence is… Unnerving.”

“If you had kissed me tonight, Minho… You would have fallen.”

“I know.”

“There’s no coming back from that.”

Minho nodded. “I know,” he said again. “You pushed me away.”

“Not because I don’t want to kiss you,” Taemin assured him. He smiled when Minho looked over at him. He shrugged. “I pushed you away because you didn’t look like you were thinking right. I wanted us to talk before we made a decision like that one, so we both knew we were… Ready.”

Minho chuckled. “Ready. As if we’re school age humans instead of centuries old celestial beings.”

Taemin laughed once and nodded. “In a way we are. When it comes to this sort of thing, right?” “I suppose.”

“If you fall… You’ll never be able to go home. Four months ago, you weren’t ready to accept that. What’s changed?”

“Do you still consider hell your home, Taemin?” Minho asked instead of answering the question. “I—I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”

“Please do. I’ll wait… This is important. When you sit and think about what home is to you, what it means, how it feels, how you feel about it. Where is home for you right now?”

Taemin remained quiet as he mulled over Minho’s question. It was a valid question, and his gut told him an answer he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with. But the longer he considered it, the more he realized it was indeed the correct answer.

“No,” he finally whispered, shame coloring his cheeks a deep red.

“No?”

“No, you’re right. Hell isn’t my home anymore. It hasn’t been for a while, I don’t think.”

Minho nodded. “I thought so. Where is?”

“Right here.” Taemin said. This apartment, maybe. Earth. My friends, you. My job… I’m happy here, where I am.”

“If someone told you that you’d never be able to go back to hell…. You’d lose your connection to it. What would you say?”

“I’d be a little sad but… Right now the thought of going back there makes me nervous. I don’t want to face them, the demons I mean. Not because they’ll be upset. They will, but I’ve handled demonic wrath before. I don’t want to hear them tell me I’m wrong to enjoy this life.”

Minho smiled softly. “You answered your question. What changed from when we started dating. My fear about not being able to go home. I realized I am home. And if I have to fall to be happy with you, then I’m ready to accept that.”

“But falling won’t just mean leaving heaven… You’ll become a fallen angel. You’ll be a destined for hell if you ever want to leave earth.”

“Good thing I know someone from there. And I heard that he’s about to get a pretty big promotion too.”

Taemin’s heart skipped a beat. “We don’t have to.”

“No, we don’t. You’d never force me to. But I want to. If you do.”

He laughed. “Of course I do. God, I want to so badly.”

Minho grabbed Taemin’s wine and set it on the table. He leaned forward. “Then what’s stopping you?” He murmured.

“Just one thing,” Taemin whispered, setting one hand on the side of Minho’s neck, the other on his shoulder.

“What’s that?”

Taemin smiled softly, their lips nearly touching. He pulled back, laughing when Minho nearly fell into his lap. “We need to move to the bedroom.”

“Why?” Minho asked breathlessly.

“Because I have wanted to take you apart for months, angel. I’m not going to stop once we start, especially not for something as simple as a location change.”

He stood up quickly and grabbed Minho’s hand, nearly dragging him toward his bedroom. Minho laughed brightly, rushing to follow. When they hit the bedroom, Taemin felt strong arms wrap around his middle, and Minho’s lips hit the back of his neck, pressing kisses along to the side of it. “I’ve never been in your bedroom before,” he murmured between kisses. “That bed looks so soft.”

“It’s amazing,” Taemin agreed. He pulled from Minho’s grip and threw the covers back, turning and stripping out of his shirt.

“Let me.” Minho stepped up, pushing his hands away and beginning to undo the buttons. Their foreheads pressed together, and Taemin could feel Minho shaking. He set his hands lightly on his wrists.

“We don’t have to do this right now. Even though we decided, we can take our time.”

“That’s not why I’m shaking,” Minho admitted.

“Then why?”

“Because it’s taking every ounce of my power not to just rip this shirt off you and steal our first kiss this very second.”

Taemin laughed softly at that. “Rip away. I don’t mind.”

Minho groaned. He gripped the fabric and tugged. They both laughed when the buttons popped off easily, and Minho shoved the shirt down past Taemin’s shoulders. He yanked at the button on his pants while Taemin treated his clothes with the same aggression, tearing the shirt open and sliding his hands over Minho’s broad, bare chest. The stepped apart to finish undressing, both climbing into bed and immediately grabbing ahold of one another, drawn by invisible magnets.

“Are you sure?” Taemin asked one final time, brushing his nose over Minho’s.

“Yes.”

Their lips met with a surprising gentleness, and Taemin felt a bright spark. Minho’s magic, he was sure. It increased quickly in aggression and intensity, their bodies reacting to the touch of their mouths. Taemin rolled them over, straddling Minho’s hips and gently grinding their hardening cocks together. He deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into Minho’s mouth. Minho’s fingers tangled in his shaggy hair, a soft moan slipping from his lips.

They kissed until Taemin’s lips were numb and his body ached desperately for more. He pulled back, leaning up and splaying his fingers over Minho’s chest.

“Do you want me to use my magic to get ready for you? Or the human way?”

Minho’s eyes fluttered shut. He wet his kiss swollen lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing rapidly. “I’d say human - but I don’t think I can wait,” he admitted. Taemin smirked. He slid his hands down Minho’s chest slowly, curling his fingers to let his short nails scrape the skin as he did.

“I’m so glad you said that,” he admitted. “But you still need some lube.” He leaned forward, ghosting his mouth over Minho’s as he dug in the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lubricant. He dropped it onto the bed before moving down his body, folding his own body over to kiss along his chest and stomach.

Minho’s cock was thick, curving ever so slightly upward, a perfect example of male anatomy. Taemin lifted it, running his tongue along the underside before wrapping his lips around the tip. Minho shouted, covering his mouth with his hands.

Taemin pulled back, stroking gently. “Go ahead and make noise. My room is soundproof. That was a necessity for me when I moved in.” He sank back down on Minho’s cock, easily taking it into his throat with minimal effort. Minho moaned openly, burying his fingers in Taemin’s hair and thrusting up toward his face.

He swore softly when Taemin pulled back, licking his lips. Taemin grinned. “Don’t wanna get you too worked up.” He teased.

“As if I wouldn’t be able to come more than once,” Minho complained.

“Oh… Well it’s funny that you think I’m going to just make you come once tonight.” He moved back up to sit on Minho’s hips again, gently sliding his ass along his spit slicked cock. “Did you forget you’re about to fuck a sex demon? I can go all night, angel.”

He grabbed the lube and opened it, leaning forward and catching Minho’s mouth in a kiss as he reached back to slick his hole up. Minho’s hand caught his wrist.

“Let me,” Minho murmured against his lips. He scraped the lube from Taemin’s fingers with his own, bringing them to his ass.

Taemin gasped when Minho slipped two fingers in. Even with his own magical preparation, he hadn’t been expecting the thickness of Minho’s digits, or the graceful finesse he used to spread the lube inside him. His cock twitched between their bellies, and Taemin moaned softly, feeling Minho smirk.

“You gonna fuck me, angel?” Taemin teased, beginning to grind against Minho’s fingers. “Make those dirty dreams come true?”

“Taemin—“ Minho gritted through his teeth.

“Oh, we both know it’s true,” Taemin whispered. He whined when Minho pulled his fingers out, but relaxed at the sound of the lube bottle again, and the wet sound of Minho stroking his own cock. “You’ve dreamed of it, haven’t you? Fucking me, making me moan. Taking me just like this I bet. Have you woken up covered in come from a dream, Minho? Or do you just wake up with an aching cock, desperately wishing you could come over and sink into my ass like you want to?”

Minho growled. He grabbed Taemin’s head with his free hand and dragged him into a rough kiss that made Taemin giggle. The energy in the room was positively electric, and his body was drinking it in eagerly. He felt the blunt tip of Minho’s cock nudge against his hole, and pushed toward it.

“That’s it,” he whispered against Minho’s lips, “take me. Make us feel so good.”

Minho pushed his hips up, guiding his cock into Taemin for the first time. Taemin lowered his body at the same time, sinking onto it with a gasp.

He pulled back as soon as Minho was nestled inside him and sank down again, throwing his head back in a delighted moan.

Minho cried out as Taemin began to ride him, his grip tight on Taemin’s hips.

Taemin leaned down, kissing him gently. “Is it good?” He panted.

Minho moaned, grabbing Taemin’s ass with one hand. He wrapped the other around his shoulders, dragging him into another deep kiss. “Amazing,” he panted against his lips. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Taemin giggled. “It’s cute when angels swear. Do it again.”

Minho smirked. He leaned up, nipping his earlobe. “I wanna fuck you so hard you scream,” he whispered.

Taemin shivered. “That’s sinful, angel. Do it.” He pulled off Minho suddenly, his body aching at the loss. He moved to the side and laid on his back, stuffing a pillow under his hips. It only took Minho a second to catch up. He rolled over and pushed Taemin’s legs open before bringing them up to his shoulders. Lining up his cock, he sank to the root, tilting his head back as he moaned Taemin’s name.

Taemin shouted happily, his back arching as Minho began to thrust, hard enough that it would have hurt a human. It was exactly what Taemin craved. He screamed happily, holding onto Minho’s arms as his body was forced open again and again on the thick cock.

“Yes! More! Oh fuck, it’s perfect!” He sobbed. “Keep going, I’m so close, oh!”

He clenched around Minho’s shaft as his cock throbbed, semen spurting onto his belly and chest.

Minho moaned, thrusting harder into him. The rough strokes against his prostate drew his orgasm out, milking his body until his stomach ached.

They kissed again, and Minho grabbed his shoulders, dragging him down against his cock even as he thrust into him.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasped. “Oh God, Taemin—“

“Come for me,” Taemin whispered. “Give it all to me.”

Minho moaned low in his throat. He continued to rut into Taemin, stealing his moans with soft gasps. His cock throbbed deep inside Taemin, and a delightful bloom of energy filled his body, a sure sign that Minho was spilling inside him. He closed his eyes, gasping and sighing as it washed over him, dragging him to a second orgasm with the intensity of it.

Minho whined softly, shuddering. “I can’t—“ He whispered as his cock throbbed once more. Taemin dropped his legs from his shoulders and wrapped them around his waist as a second orgasm washed over Minho, immediately following his first. Minho shouted brokenly, overstimulated. Taemin milked his cock, stroking his back and ass as purple sparks bloomed behind his closed lids. The energy shifted around them, the sweet purity of Minho’s light fading, darkening into a rich, deep velvety feeling. He was falling. He was falling fast and hard and every drop of his release was pushing him further, held securely in Taemin’s arms.

Taemin rolled them over and gently pulled off Minho’s softening cock, giggling at the rush of come that dribbled down his thighs. He moved forward, gently rubbing his cock over Minho’s lips.

“Open.”

Minho obeyed, his eyes rolling up to look at Taemin as he took his cock into his mouth. Taemin caressed his cheek, gently thrusting into his warm mouth. “Swallow when I come,” he said, his voice soft but demanding. Minho nodded as well as he could, hollowing his cheeks and sucking. He swirled his tongue around Taemin’s cock; delightfully talented at this despite Taemin knowing he likely wasn’t experienced. He sighed happily as his orgasm neared, burying his fingers in Minho’s hair. “Deeper.”

Minho lifted his head, letting Taemin push deeper, until the tip of his cock bumped his throat. Taemin shivered, moaning. “Perfect, take it… Doing so good,” he murmured. He began to move quicker, nudging Minho’s throat on each thrust. Minho moaned, his throat clicking as he struggled to stave off his gag reflex. Taemin whined softly.

“Here, Minho - Oh fuck, swallow it for me.”

He thrust twice more and stilled, shivering as his cock spurted into Minho’s awaiting mouth. He gulped quickly, his eyes slipping shut. He reached around, sliding two fingers easily into Taemin’s hole. He fingered him hard as Taemin groaned.

“That’s it,” he whispered, pulling his cock free. He squeezed himself, working one last dribble out and onto Minho’s lips. Before Minho could lick it up, he leaned down, kissing him hard and driving his tongue into Minho’s mouth. They shared his come as they kissed, their bodies sticking together with sweat and semen.

Taemin pulled away and rolled off Minho, flopping next to him on the bed. He reached down, finding Minho’s hand and lacing their fingers together as they laid in the suddenly oppressive silence of the room.

“Wow,” Minho whispered, breaking the silence first. Taemin’s breath escaped in a rush; he hadn’t realized he’d been holding it. “You okay?” Minho asked.

“I’m great, I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Minho drew in a deep breath. “I’m sore. And I definitely… Feel different. Magic wise. But I’m okay. I’m good.” They looked one another in the low light.

“We should shower,” Taemin said. “Then we can talk.”

Minho nodded. The two rose quietly and made their way to Taemin’s bathroom, stepping into the shower. Though it wasn’t a necessity; he could have easily cleaned them up with his power, it gave him – and Minho – some time to process what they’d just done. Thankfully, if Minho’s gentle touches were any indication, he didn’t regret it.

The two stood under the hot water for a while after they cleaned one another, Taemin’s face buried in Minho’s neck as they embraced.

“I’ve fallen,” Minho whispered.

“You did. I’m right here thought. I won’t let you be alone in this. I don’t know a lot of fallen angels… But I know their powers are similar to a demon’s. I’ll help you learn, if you get confused or don’t know what to do.”

“I know you will. I’m not upset.”

Taemin pulled back, meeting Minho’s gaze. “You’re not?”

“No. It’s overwhelming. I feel so different… Free, somehow. But not bad. I’m happy, actually. What we did was amazing, and I never would have been able to experience that if I wasn’t willing to take that leap.”

Taemin smiled softly. He kissed Minho’s mouth gently, sighing. “I’ll never get sick of doing that.”

“Me neither. Hey… You completed your assignment. Doesn’t that mean you get to move up in your rank now?”

Taemin nodded after a moment. “I do. When I go back. If. If I go back.”

“You aren’t planning to?”

“Not any time soon. I meant it when I said I was happy here, this was home. Unless you want to go see what hell looks like, I… Don’t think I’ll go back any time soon.”

“I’m perfectly fine waiting until these bodies waste away to go visit. I’d like to experience growing old like a human.”

“Yeah?” Taemin grinned brightly. “With me?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They stepped out of the shower and went back to the bedroom. Taemin dressed first, slipping out of the main door to Minho’s apartment. He grabbed a pair of sweats for him, knowing none of his would fit Minho. When he returned, Minho was standing in the bedroom, his wings out on display. Instead of the bright white that Taemin was used to seeing, they were now a rich, velvety black, intermixed with purplish hued ones.

“I’m beautiful,” Minho said, turning to face him. His eyes had changed as well; instead of a vibrant, sky blue, they were now dark brown, tinged with red. They were similar to Taemin’s, but just a bit lighter, a sign of his fading purity.

“You are,” Taemin agreed. He stepped up, stroking one of Minho’s wings. “This looks lovely.”

“Thank you. I wanted to see… If I’d like it. I do.”

“They suit you.” He handed Minho his sweats, looking around the messy bedroom. “Why don’t you try out your powers. See if you can clean up the bedroom. A good practice.”

Minho nodded once. He chewed his bottom lip, and Taemin could tell he was trying to figure out how to draw from the new power budding deep inside him. He went around behind him, wrapping his arms around his middle.

“Relax,” he whispered. “This power is different. It’s a part of you. Just let it come out, you know what you want done.”

Minho took a deep breath and released it, nodding once. He raised his hand and flicked his wrist. With a rush of energy, the bedroom shifted. Taemin laughed softly when he realized what Minho had done. He succeeded, mostly; the sheets were clean and the piles of ripped clothes were gone. Except, instead of the sleek black silk that normally adorned Taemin’s bed, it was now the same baby blues and soft white cottons of Minho’s room.

Minho made a small noise. “Sorry. I can fix it…”

“No.” Taemin pushed his hand down. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind, really.” He went around and kissed Minho’s mouth. “If we’re going to end up living together at some point, we’ll need to figure out how to make our design ideas work anyways so. This is good practice. Come to bed with me.”

The two curled up together under the blankets, their arms and legs twisted together as one. Minho sighed after a few minutes of silence. “I can’t fall sleep.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, not really. I can feel the last bits of my angelic purity. Deep down, they’re fading but holding on. It’s like I can feel the angels I left. I know they know what happened, we can feel it when one of ours dies or changes like this. I know they’re crying over it, even though I’ve been away so long.”

“Are you upset?”

“No. I’m sad that they don’t understand it. That they’re shedding their tears when they don’t have to. They can’t understand how happy I am. How this… This loss gave me paradise in so many ways. But I still don’t regret it. I don’t think I ever will.”

“Hopefully they’ll understand someday,” Taemin said, holding Minho’s hand over his chest. “We’ll just need to work on it here, showing our paradise, how nice it can be. Why tears don’t need to be shed.”

Minho nodded in silent agreement. Their lips met once more, and Taemin felt that blossom of energy deep inside him. It was a unique feeling – so different from the butterflies he felt, or Minho’s purity. This was something entirely new, a dizzying sensation that he couldn’t wait to explore hand in hand with his fallen angel.

#shinee fic #minho x taemin #2min #angel/demon au #choi minho fic #lee taemin fic #taeminho #taemin smut #choi minho smut #mywriting #musicbingo23

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here4theheartbreak · 1 year

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Of Magic & Social Media (2Min) - Ch.3 - The Tunnel

Relationships: Choi Minho x Lee Taemin Genre: fluff, spooky, smut | strangers to lovers, fae & fairies, influencer au Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~4.6k Tags: (more will be added as chapters progress) Fluff, Spooky, Smut, Fae & Fairies, Social Media Influencer Choi Minho, Alternate Universe - Magic, Mystery

Summary: Minho is a decently successful influencer. He amuses his followers with vlogs of random GPS coordinate exploring. One such adventure leads him deep into the woods, where he stumbles upon a box, locked and buried. Upon opening it, a series of strange, and inexplicable things begin to happen to him. Is it just bad luck? Or did he release something ancient and powerful when he lifted the lid?

AO3 | AsianFanFics

The coordinates that the app generated were in the city this time. Minho recorded as he usually did, noting how far away they were from his present location, and what he expected to find based on a glance at the map. No real high hopes this time, he explained as he walked down the street. Probably someone’s house or a business or something. He put his phone down to focus on where he was walking, not wanting to run into some poor pedestrian because he was distracted.

As he got closer to the coordinates, the bustle of the sidewalk seemed to ease up. He glanced at the map again, scanning the proposed route. Upon closer inspection, he saw what looked like a shortcut on the map just a few feet ahead of him. He kept his eyes on the map as he walked forward, looking to the right once he reached the apparent path. Sure enough, there was what looked like a bike tunnel a few feet below him. He headed down the stairs and pulled up the camera again.

“Hey, see this, is why I love these adventures. I never knew this was here.” He showed the tunnel on camera. It looked far more foreboding on the camera than in real life, the dark circle of the opening looking more like a maw than an innocent pedestrian tunnel.

“It doesn’t look super used,” he commented, noting the trash and leaves crunching under his feet. Should cut a good few minutes off my walk though.” He kept the camera filming as he entered the tunnel. Only a few feet in, and Minho was plunged into darkness. The air seemed to thicken around him, and the concrete muffled the city noises.

“Weird,” he whispered. Even the low tone of his voice echoed like he was shouting. He glanced back toward where he’d entered. It was still there, but the sunlight stopped short as if blocked completely by the darkness. He showed it on camera. “It’s longer than I thought,” he said softly as he looked forward and realized he couldn’t see the light from the opposite end. He turned on his phone’s flashlight and moved it around, getting a feel for his surroundings.

The tunnel was just over eight feet high by his best guess; big enough for a person or a bicyclist. The walls were a dark grey and the air smelled damp. There was some graffiti here and there, and the concrete under his feet was wet and dirty. He walked forward, still angling the phone around to get a look at the tunnel.

After a few minutes, the light from his phone seemed to disappear into a darkness to his left. Curious, Minho turned and walked toward it, holding one hand out in front of him. It was a second path. He paused at the fork, biting his lip.

“I’m not sure which way to go,” he admitted. “Hold on…” He paused the recording to pull up his map. It showed him near the end of the path that he’d intended to take, but it showed no forks like this. He screenshotted the map and pulled his camera back up. “So, this is weird. I think the GPS must be messing up. According to the map, the exit should be just a few feet ahead.” He turned the camera to show the path he was originally on. Nothing but darkness filled the viewscreen, eating the rays of light from the flashlight.

“But it’s a sunny day – if the exit was anywhere in the next few feet… I’d see the sun. It also doesn’t show this secondary path.”

He hesitated, looking between the two options. “Well, the point of these little adventures is to find new things, right?” He turned and headed down the new path.

It was more of the same for much of the path, damp, grey walls, dirty concrete walking path. The more Minho walked, the cooler it seemed to become, as if the sun was warming less and less of the area. He commented on it as he continued to record the video.

“Sorry you’re not seeing much here,” he said. “There’s really only the walls – a lot less graffiti that I can see. I wish I’d brought a real flashlight, but I didn’t expect to be anywhere dark on this one.”

The tunnel in front of him suddenly ended in a grate, coming up so fast it startled him. “Huh. Well, that’s that,” he said, placing his hand on the metal. It was frigid cold, and felt damp. He could feel a gentle vibration from it. He angled the flashlight around it, confirming that the grate was sunken deep into the concrete all around. He tried to peek through it, but the tunnel seemed to continue on in darkness. Somewhere distant, Minho could hear water dripping slowly.

“I wonder where I am in relation to the city,” he commented. He turned to head back the way he came when his flashlight’s beam disappeared once more. He paused and looked closer, realizing he was looking at another tunnel that branched off. Next to it was a second.

“Huh. Well… Which way to go.” He paused the recording and looked at his map again, a little surprised to realize he’d been walking these tunnels for nearly twenty minutes. More surprising, however, was that he had absolutely no service. The GPS couldn’t locate him, so the map couldn’t update. He went back to his camera and chuckled. “Well… We have a bit of a problem. Apparently wherever I am, I’ve gotten to a place with no service. Which is odd, considering how good the cell service is in this area of the city normally. I wonder if the tunnel has been curving down in some way? It would make sense since it’s been getting colder… And the water, I wonder if it’s some sort of sewer access? Maybe that’s why it didn’t appear on the map, they might not have wanted anyone here.”

He looked at the two tunnels again, and then back the way he came. “I still have pretty good battery life, so I’m going to keep going for a while more. It seems like there’s nothing here though, so I am gonna stop recording for a bit, try to save the battery and also cut down on the amount of footage I have to edit out when I’m finished. I’ll start up again if anything cool happens, or when I figure out where I am or what this place is.” He ended the recording and lowered his brightness on his phone and flashlight, hoping to conserve his battery. He did have an external pack in his bag, but he didn’t know how long he’d be down here, and didn’t want to end up using both and getting himself lost. He opened the notes app on his phone and drew a quick map, as well as noting what he came to.

‘Straight path, then took the left fork. That path ended at a grate with 2 paths on the left side. Taking the’

He paused, looking at his two possible options. Left or right. Which was better? Worse? He walked a few feet down the right path, using his flashlight to see if anything caught his eye. More of the same. Backing out, he went down the left tunnel and repeated his actions. It all looked the same. Back out to the grate, and he leaned against the opposite wall, sighing heavily. He wished he had service, he could post a quick poll and ask his subscribers left or right. Either seemed equally possible to end in something cool or a complete waste of time.

After considering for some time, he nodded and tapped his phone.

‘the right side’ he typed. He headed down the right tunnel, shining the flashlight around.

This tunnel seemed to curve more than the others. As Minho walked, he could feel the wall nearing his arms despite walking in a straight line. The top of the tunnel seemed to be sinking as well; the original one had been nearly eight feet, but this one was almost touching his head, putting it just over six feet by his best guess. After walking for another ten or so minutes, he recorded a quick video.

“Alright, so I took the right tunnel. More of the same mostly, just grey walls. There’s no grafitti here though, so I’m guessing nobody’s walked this far. It’s cold, so I think the idea that we’re dipping underground is right. The tunnel itself is getting smaller. It used to be big, but now I can nearly touch all of it just standing in the center. I’m still not seeing any natural light, and I hear water a lot louder now. Up ahead I thought I saw another fork in the system, so I’m going to head left in that one.”

He stopped the video and headed toward the split he’d seen. He entered the left tunnel then paused, glancing back the way he’d come. A sensation came over him then, settling over him like a blanket of chilling anxiety. He hadn’t consciously thought about taking this path. His phone was still out of service, and he had no idea how long this system went on for – or even where it ended. He backed out of the left tunnel and looked to the right one. Instead of the opening he swore had been there five minutes prior, he was instead met with another grate.

The invisible weight seemed to increase, thickening the air around him. He could have sworn there was an opening there. He pulled up the video he took, rewatching to see if he’d shown it, but he hadn’t. The camera had remained on his face, barely visible in the darkness. The only other thing visible in the screen were two tiny points of greenish light, glowing somewhere over his left shoulder. Minho walked back to where he’d taken the video, moving his light around quickly to try and catch the reflection of whatever had been in the video. There was nothing but more of the same grey.

“I’m losing it,” Minho said to himself, chuckling softly. His laugh echoed down the tunnel, reverberating back to him in an unsettling mockery. The hairs on his arms raised. He hurried into the left tunnel once more, turning off the flashlight. As he walked, he began to mouth a reminder.

“Stay left, stay left, stay left,” he repeated. There was no visible danger, but something felt… Wrong. Minho loved adventure, loved exploring. This should have been no different. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that had returned. The tingling between his shoulderblades, the gentle movement of hair on the back of his head when no wind was present. He felt watched. More accurately, he felt followed. Even stalked.

His footsteps echoed, and would mask anyone’s that might be trotting after him. His own breathing as he moved at a faster pace down the seemingly endless darkness would hide anyone else’s breathing. The rush of blood in his ears would render him incapable of hearing any subtle movements.

Entirely focused on suppressing the panic that was threatening to take over, Minho nearly ran face first into the end of the tunnel. He shouted, his own voice mocking him from two directions. The tunnel split once more. He pulled out his phone, a knot growing in his stomach. It was half dead, and he’d been walking for almost an hour. It didn’t feel like it. His legs weren’t aching, he wasn’t thirsty or hungry, none of the normal responses to walking nonstop for an hour. He pulled up the camera and started a video.

“Another tunnel fork,” he said, pausing when he realized his voice was shaking. He took a breath to calm himself and laughed, trying to avoid cringing when the tunnels laughed back. “All this talk of demons and spirits, you’ve all got me super freaked out,” he said, offering what he hoped was a genuine smile. “I swear I feel like I’m being followed. It’s probably a mouse.” He chuckled again. “I’m gonna go down the right tunnel here, see where that takes me.”

He went to stop the recording, then remembered. “Oh!” He brought the phone back up to his face. “Weirdest thing. Earlier when I was recording about a split in the tunnel. I swear there was a right and left side, but when I went back, ends up the right side was blocked off with a grate. I didn’t video it, so no proof, but was so weird.” He shrugged and grinned. “See you soon.”

He ended the recording and headed off down the right tunnel, using the flashlight at first to determine there were no differences, then going by feel. Recording had calmed him down and gotten his heart back to a normal pace. He was just scaring himself, he was sure, being alone in the dark had to affect some deep animal part of a human psyche.

Minho’s calm mindset was far from long lived. The feeling of being watched continued to grow in intensity. The tunnel path continued on for what felt like hours, curving gently left or right. The dripping water never grew or decreased in volume or intensity, and Minho wondered if he was really moving forward at all, or just walking in place.

That question was answered quickly, when only a few minutes after thinking it, he ran directly into something blocking his path. It was cold and hard, and despite his slow pace, he’d been moving quickly enough for it to send spikes of pain along his nose. He swore loudly, his voice echoing back to him as he turned on his phone’s flashlight and aimed it in front of him, surprised to see that the tunnel seemingly just stopped, ending in a wall. “Wh—” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and held it up, relieved there was no blood. Minho focused his attention back on the dead end, moving the flashlight around to try and find another path. There was no way he spent hours of his day walking through a tunnel just to have it end like this. Especially considering the sound of the water; it had to be coming from somewhere. He was just about to backtrack and go through a different tunnel that he’d passed up when he spotted it. The entrance was to the left, only about four feet tall. He’d nearly missed it, searching for entrances his height or more. He crouched down, shining his light into the tunnel. It looked the same as the one he was in, albeit two feet shorter.

The ground was cold even through his jeans as Minho sat to record. He held up the camera, taking a moment to try and adjust it to show his face even a little in the low reflected light from the flashlight. “Well, I reached a wall – and nearly broke my nose in the process.” He chuckled a little. “There’s a way forward, but it’s a smaller tunnel.” He shifted the camera over to show the opening next to him. “I can make it,” he said, pulling the camera back to himself. “But I’ll be crouched over; it’s almost two feet shorter than I am. I don’t know if you can hear it – but there’s water dripping somewhere. But it seems like no matter how long I’ve walked, it doesn’t change. No closer or farther away, I don’t know what to make of it. The silence is creepy – I can hear my own heartbeat and every time I make a noise it echoes. I can see why they say people go insane if you keep them in the silence and the dark for too long. Not that I’m going crazy.” He grinned brighter, as if to convince those that would eventually be viewing this. Or maybe himself. “But I get it,” he continued after a second.

“It’s been…” He glanced at the time, whistling softly. “I can’t believe it, I’ve been in this tunnel system for nearly three hours.” He sighed. “At this point, backtracking is going to be impossible. Even with the directions that I’ve written for myself, I won’t get out until well after dark. So I just have to move forward and hope that I’m closer to the end of the system than the beginning of it. I’m definitely underground now. It’s frigid and it shouldn’t be. So, I think I’m going to keep the flashlight on now, maybe I’ll find a ladder that gives me some sort of street access. I haven’t found anything to indicate what these tunnels are used for, but that would make sense, right? Logically – there’s gotta be a reason for them.”

He rose and wiped off the back of his jeans. “Alright, I’m heading into the space. If I go for another hour or so and I don’t seem to be getting any closer to an exit, I might try to backtrack after all. I don’t wanna be down here all night.”

Minho shut off his recording and began down the smaller hole. He was hunched over, the strain on his back becoming obvious within only a few hundred feet. He didn’t want to crawl on his hands and knees; how humiliating – but this was going to start to become painful if it kept up. The walls still looked the same and it was starting to drive him a little crazy. This system had to have an out somewhere. It only made sense; who would create a system of tunnels with only one exit point?

After what felt like an hour, but based on his phone clock was only about twenty minutes, Minho swallowed his pride and dropped down to his hands and knees, scootching forward. The rasp of his jeans on the concrete was as loud as a scream, prolonged and echoing in such a way that he couldn’t have heard anyone even if they’d been running.

Which is likely why Minho didn’t hear the heavy breathing coming from the tunnel in front of him until it was too late. He looked up, shining the light. His heart jumped into his throat, squeezing and skipping a beat when he saw something other than empty tunnel. In front of him, separated by a mere six feet, stood the largest beast Minho had ever seen. Its eyes were bright, candy apple green, reflecting eerily off the light from his phone. It was a dog at first glance, though much larger than any Minho saw in the city, ears nearly brushing the top of the tunnel in their perked state. Its fur was as black as the darkness behind it, and its lips were pulled back into a snarl, revealing sharp white teeth and pink gums.

Minho made a small noise of surprise, a shout choked back by the clench of his throat. The dog-like beast snarled then, snapping its jaws. The sound echoed like a gunshot off the walls, and Minho’s throat let the scream through. His own voice reverberated back, his eardrums aching and throbbing as he scrambled around. He rose to his feet, crying out when he bumped his head on the top of the tunnel. He hunched over and ran, the sound of the beast barking and snarling as it chased him. It had two advantages, he knew – with four legs and being short enough to run through this tunnel without crouching. It wouldn’t be long before it caught him and ripped him to shreds.

Minho felt a wind behind him, and heard the snapping of jaws once more. Though he couldn’t see, he knew the beast was an inch – maybe two – from taking a bite out of him. He lunged forward, lungs burning. Up ahead he could see the opening of this smaller path when his hands rose, still gripping the phone with the light on. He leaned further, praying to whoever was listening that he could make it. If he could just stand straight, maybe he’d have a chance.

His shoulder smacked the edge of opening hard as he reached it, pain radiating down his arm, but also propelling him in the right direction. The beast was still on his tail, jaws snapping and breath warming the leg closest to its mouth. Minho rasped for air, a sharp pain ripping through his side as he struggled to keep up the pace. He was athletic, but he’d already been walking for hours, and his body couldn’t keep going at this clip much longer. Minho dared a glance over his shoulder, his blood chilling in his veins. The dog-thing was only about a foot behind him, though it was nearly invisible in the darkness. Minho could see its eyes – neon green pinpoints, and the glint of its teeth, bared to shred his flesh the second it caught him. He cried out softly and looked forward again, screwing his eyes shut.

The toe of Minho’s sneaker struck a small lip in the tunnel. His speed sent him forward, crashing to the ground and skidding painfully. The sunlight seared his pupils even behind closed lids, and the rushing of traffic only a short walk away sent pain radiating through his head. He clapped his hands over his ears, forcing his eyes open in a tear-filled, blurry squint. He was on the ground. He rolled over, fully expecting to see the beast leaping at him, but instead, the opening of the tunnel loomed in front of him. It was only about eight feet in length, and Minho could see the bike path on the other side, edged on either side in trees.

As his eyes adjusted and his heart slowed, Minho sat up, rubbing his chest where he’d taken the brunt of the fall. He searched around in the dirt, spotting his phone a few feet away. He scrambled to pick it up, wincing at the angry crack across the glass. He tapped it, panic forming in his chest when it wouldn’t turn on. He smacked it against his palm and held down the power button, sighing in relief when the logo popped up on the black screen. While he waited for it to power up, he looked around, dazed. How? He’d spent hours in that place. It wasn’t short like this. A part of him wanted to enter it again, check for an opening, something to explain the past few hours, but he was afraid the second he did, he’d be thrust back into the dark tunnel system and the dog-beast like some demented Alice in Wonderland.

Minho looked down to check his phone. A pit formed in his stomach when he did, cold icicles of fear pinning him to the spot. According to his phone, he’d only been in the tunnel five minutes. Though in reality, it should have been nearly dark out, close to seven in the evening, it was just past one. With a shaking hand, Minho pulled up his photo app, relieved to see the pile of dark stills that proved he’d filmed something over the past few hours. He pulled up a random one, turning up the volume to hear himself. But there was nothing. He could see no light from the phone, couldn’t hear his voice or his footsteps. He pulled up another – the same. File after file, it was just minutes upon minutes of dark silence. The timestamps were no help, showing all zeroes. Minho sat on the ground, staring in disbelief at the screen. His fear shifted to a panic, drenching him in a cold sweat. How would anyone believe him if he tried to explain this without proof?

Feeling numb, he pulled up the app and started recording. “Hey, guys…” He began, realizing how tired he sounded. And how tired he felt. Despite the lack of missing time, his body certainly believed he’d spent all that time walking. “So, I just had… Something super weird happen, and I know a lot of you won’t believe it, but I gotta say something before I talk myself out of it.”

He sighed and stood up, brushing off his jeans. “So, I pulled up a new set of coordinates today to film. Nothing weird, but while I was walking, I ended up spotting this.” He flipped the camera to show the tunnel. “Just a basic sort of bike shortcut, but it would cut quite a bit of time off my walk to the coordinates, so I figured I’d use it.” He turned the camera back to himself.

“Except when I went in there, it changed.” He chuckled. “I know how this is gonna sound, but I gotta put it out there. It was dark and it was a lot longer than that that you see. It was like a whole system of tunnels They were all smooth concrete like that but they just went on and on. I lost service even. And I did record. A ton too. So, I was walking for hours. It never seemed to end. I swear, I spent at least five or six hours down there. I finally reached this part that was short, only about four feet tall. While I was in it, a fucking animal came out of nowhere. It was solid black, and it looked sort of like a dog or a wolf or something but it was massive. It’s ears were touching the top of the tunnel. The fucking thing chased me. I thought I was going to die.” He laughed a little, hating how strained his voice sounded.

“I tripped over something and landed on the ground.” He lowered the camera to show his torn shirt. “Outside.”

Minho rubbed the back of his neck. “I was back outside. I’d walked for hours and within five minutes while that mutt from Hell was chasing me… I ended up outside, and that tunnel was how you see it now. Not long or deep or scary at all. And the dog was totally gone.”

He sighed. “I know it sounds crazy. What’s crazier is that none of that time is gone. Like I was walking for hours, but it’s only been a few minutes on my phone. While I was in the tunnel time was passing, it should be sunset, but it’s not. It’s like I’ve only been gone for a few minutes. What’s worse? None of the videos have any sound or picture. I feel crazy. I have hours of footage in my phone but it’s all black and silent. The timestamps are just zeros…” He shook his head. “I feel like I’m losing my mind. And I know a lot of you won’t believe me, and I have no way of proving it but…” Minho sighed, rubbing his temple. “If you have any clue about what happened, or what might have happened to the videos, I’d take any advice.” He looked back at the tunnel, an unsettling feeling crawling down his spine. “What’s worse?” He whispered. “I feel like I’m being watched.” He looked back at the camera for a moment before ending it and posting it.

Without wasting another minute, Minho hurried back up the trail to the sidewalk, relieved to see the busy faces of strangers after the events he’d experienced. He rushed back toward the bus stop that would take him home, ignoring their stares. He was sure he looked a mess – torn shirt and sweaty like he’d just run a mile. And though he tried to keep himself neutral, he was sure some of the panic he was feeling was leaking through in his expression.

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#shinee fanfic #shinee #choi minho #lee taemin #minho x taemin #2min #taeminho #mywriting

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