{06.} YunHo & ChangMin

16:46:00 Roxana Poxana 0 Comments

Hello~ This is prompt #6 “Demons / fallen angels / angels / any mythological equivalent” for the HoMin section of the Dark!AU Challenge

Summary: YunHo is a demon who wants to have fun. ChangMin is a fallen angel who has way too much fun but doesn’t want to share it with YunHo.
Warnings: R-rating | Drug Use | Smut | #I’m A Heathen

Heaven’s Day

Ichi.
It is easy to spot angels walking amongst humans. They do not look like Mormon kids with their collar buttoned up to their chins nor do they look like crunchy hippies preaching for world peace. Most of the time, they look completely normal. Well, no, not really—they always look happy. Abnormally so. They are helping people; they smile and stand with this halo surrounding them, all self-righteous and stuff. Disgusting. As a lowlife demon paying his dues amongst this crappy human society, YunHo’s seen a few during his century working the Earth. The puffy bastards, they come and leave, helping those who serve some sort of purpose in the bullshit Godly plan but looking the other way from all the other suffering in this nearly God-forsaken world.

Fallen angels, on the other hand… They are quite the different breed. Fallen from grace, they usually pass for humans most of the times—depressed, annihilated humans who indulge in vagrancy and other human habits, that is.  It’s usually the itch that gives them away. The effort of keeping their wings hidden without grace being too great, they end up scratching weirdly, or just give up, tie them and wear baggy clothing in hopes that people will not take notice—who wants to stand out as a freaky bird-person in a world so keen on testing the unknown?

YunHo can respect that. He knows the business upstairs is a filthy one, has always been so, and he understands that most fallen fluffers are really the smartest of their bunch. Yet, with all the people and creatures he has seen during his existence, he never expected to walk into a high-end club bathroom to find one of the hottest pieces of ass sniffing coke, hunched over the porcelain sink and panting like a dog.

He’s recently fallen too—there’s still certain amount of grace within him, emanating from him. YunHo feels kinda exhilarated, like he could just smell the blue-ish hue and get high on it.

“Hey~llo!”

“Not interested” the angel says, without so much looking at him. He cleans up and rests his weight against the white tiles, letting his back slide downwards until he’s sitting on the floor.

YunHo puts on his best puppy face and kneels in front of the angel. In truth, that’s YunHo’s secret. Unlike many of his brute colleagues, YunHo is nice. As nice as a spawn of Satan can be, that is. He likes to strike deals with people who really need it, who will not regret it until the very last second when the hounds come get them. And he does so not as a bully but as a friend, with smiles and wit and humor and hugs. Yes, hugs. YunHo’s one hell of a hugger, pun very much intended.

“I don’t believe you know who I am…”

“Oh, I know exactly WHAT you are” the man smirks, still not looking at him. “Actually, I think I even remember your name. YunYeo, or something? Saw it on some files. Before I was given the envelope, of course. Still not interested.”

The demon grits his teeth. YunHo does not enjoy being ignored, denied, or blown off.

“YunHo” he corrects, trying to sound friendly. “And you are…?”

“Out of your league.”

YunHo snorts. “Puffy winged ostracized bastard thinks he’s too good for a demon?”

“No. ChangMin, a sexy fucking guy chilling in a club, sees a random guy he doesn’t like and is now leaving.”

He stands up and strides over to the door, not even bothering to look at YunHo again.

“Wait!”

ChangMin ignores him and YunHo is suddenly staring at a wooden door in an empty bathroom.
Ni.

ChangMin has this cute scar under his eye. A reminder of his lost angel days. It’s just a thin browner-than-his-brown-skin slice, not even reaching his cheekbone. He looks at himself into the mirror and smirks. He likes how it sort of glows. He likes how his reddish brown hair curls softly and the way it is cut brings out his eyes, his jaw, his angelic features. Well, the old man has done some good works during his reign. ChangMin is clearly one of them, and he basks in his healthy narcissism before he finally leaves the bathroom to get dressed.

He goes out; his outfit so whorish he wouldn’t be surprised if a disgusting business man stopped his chauffeured car to ask him about his nightly rate. His white pants, fitted nearly to the skin, his nearly-transparent black shirt, his white and fluffy coat, middle-thigh length—he really does look the bitch part.

He’s about to try his luck on a busy street corner, just because he can (this being his usual life-motto and decision-making process), but he stops dead on his tracks when he catches a glimpse of a church on the other side of the street. Fuck, he groans, rolling his eyes. There’s that hot flash of guilt again, to which he still can’t get used to—why are you disgracing your body thus, brother? An angel should treasure the temple given by God. Ugh. Ugh.

Well fuck them. It’s not like he misses heaven. True, he misses having a home, a place he belonged to and to where he thought he could always return. Clearly that hadn’t been the case. And fuck them. ChangMin just wants to have fun, anyways.

And what is the best way to have fun and pray some Hail Fuck You’s to heaven than hanging out with a demon?

ChangMin smirks again.

He wonders if there still enough mojo inside him to contact YunHo, to at least find out where he is. He is aware that he’s being childish. YunHo only intrigues him because he’s a demon. And he’s hot, that too. But beyond that—is it really wise to contact one of their kind just for some vodka shots and a quick fuck?

But Hell, ChangMin wasn’t kicked out of Heaven for his superhuman self-restraint.
|-|
YunHo opens the door after the fifth doorbell ring and nearly chokes when he catches sight of what’s behind it.

“I’ve never fucked a demon” is ChangMin’s only greeting before he pounces.

YunHo’s beer bottle crashes down to the floor, spilling the contents all over the fake wood floor. ChangMin doesn’t even notice—he opens his mouth for YunHo to fuck it with his tongue, a moan catching inside his chest, wanton and animal. He holds onto YunHo’s shoulders and lifts a leg to wrap it around YunHo’s hip. YunHo can’t help noticing the… easiness of stretch. He doesn’t have much time to think about that when ChangMin kisses him again, then his jaw, his collarbone, his neck, then back at his mouth.

The fallen angel suddenly acts like he’s thirsty for this, and YunHo’s not about to complain, except that…

“I thought you weren’t interested” YunHo says, unintelligently, as ChangMin removes his jacket and shirt.

ChangMin shrugs. “Changed my mind. Where’s the bedroom?”

“Uhm…” YunHo doesn’t know what to say. Mainly because ChangMin’s naked torso is fucking perfect, chiseled by… Well. His lips are wet and swollen and his chest heaves with every breath and pant and he’s just so, so—“over there, is over there at the…”

“Great!” he goes, and YunHo whines as he follows those perfect legs that go on forever slide to the bedroom.

YunHo’s bedroom is simple and store-bought. There’s not much of a mess, it just feels lived in. Cozy. ChangMin removes his shoes as he forgot to do so before. He pops open the button of his pants but doesn’t take them off. So tempting, acting as if he’s the grand price (which, okay, he might be)—YunHo licks his lips and wonders what he has done right lately to get to this point.

 “Let me see your wings” YunHo pleads as ChangMin sinfully slithers on his hands and knees until he’s properly settled on the bed. As if he’s always owned it. He stretches, arches his back in a graceful bow and lifts his ass, rubbing against the bed in a feline way that dries YunHo’s throat. His back has the natural slashes of hidden wings, going from the shoulder to the middle back. These look angrier, though, red and textured as if ready to burst open.

“I cut them” the angel almost spits, a smirk on his lips. “‘s the only way to really fall, babe” he adds, and YunHo’s cock twitches at the vision of ChangMin on his arms and knees, looking back at him with those wicked eyes that are so wide and pretty still.

YunHo climbs onto the bed, grabs a handful of the angel’s hair and pulls, not softly, not forcefully—just damn right. ChangMin’s stomach tightens in anticipation. “Oh, baby, the things you say…” YunHo whispers playfully, and ChangMin’s chuckle dissolves into a moan when YunHo bites his neck.

Tonight, there’s neither Hell nor Heaven— they are in fucking Purgatory city.

Bonus.

The third time they meet is at a cute and small to-go coffee shop, a couple of months later. ChangMin is standing in a long line when YunHo enters—he blushes the moment their eyes meet. For weeks, he’s been doing his best to avoid this encounter. You’d think in such a big city it would have been easy. He’d had a moment of weakness, okay, yes; he doesn’t need (or want) a constant reminder. To add insult to injury, did he really have to run into YunHo today, of all days, right after…? Well.

The angel’s cheeks color even more, and YunHo’s chest swells with pride thinking it’s because ChangMin is reminiscing their night together, but after a close observation, he realizes it’s because ChangMin is wearing day-old clothes and he comes from another man’s place.

“…So… Fun night?”

ChangMin smirks.

“Oh, yeah” he bites his lip and seems to be remembering something quite pleasant. Then he appears to notice YunHo standing there next to him and his smile wavers, discreet. “Yes, very, actually.”

YunHo scrunches up his nose and makes a disgusted face. He looks at ChangMin with a sneer on his face and stands behind him in the line as he orders. Americano, double shot, cinnamon. And a piece of lemon pound cake. YunHo orders the same as he hastily approaches ChangMin from behind while he’s waiting next to the counter.

“So… Who was him?” ChangMin rolls his eyes. “Tell me!”

“I’m not biting. Please find some other poor unfortunate soul to bother” he sneers while he seats on an armchair. YunHo scoffs.

Goddammit, who does this bratty God pawn believe he is?
He will not be concerned with his fluffy affairs anymore…
…Except. Except that ChangMin really intrigues him. 

He leans against a wall and stares at ChangMin, wondering what is it about him, what does he do or say or is that makes him so interesting to YunHo. So alluring.

Or is it just his voice, ordering “Hey, are you going to sit there ogling at me the whole time? Sit”, as he points to the chair across the small coffee table without glancing up from his cellphone, which makes him so hot. It’s soft yet sharp, and oh how pretty he moaned that night.

YunHo smiles and obliges, “so… who was he?”

This time, ChangMin answers. Honestly. Wittingly. He was a Water Polo player, he says, hot and muscular and fucked like a dream, but totally dumb. Good for sucking cock, terrible to hold any sort of semi intelligent human to human conversation. YunHo laughs. They talk. Then they talk some more.

By the time they finish talking ChangMin stomach grumbles with the promise of lunch. YunHo invites him to this cozy Italian place. His treat. ChangMin nods and gets up, holding out his hand in a this-is-a-very-magnanimous-effort-on-my-part sort of way.

“But don’t get used to it.”


Oh, YunHo thought, baby, I will get used to this. 

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