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.
I am addicted to shipping and addicted to creating fanfiction. This is a blog for all my new drabbles (and maybe even some old/new fanfiction) of my many many ships. You can browse, request and, most important, enjoy!
This playlist is for that teenage jam feel. The other day "I'd do anything" popped up on my music feed and I was karaoking like a maniac walking down the street. Also good for singing when tidying up or bed-jamming while singing with a brush in hand.
