Chapter Text
Before Wooseok could understand what was happening, he was living with the demon.
Wooseok had been staying with Yanan since the night he’d landed on earth, so Wooseok hadn’t thought too much of it. He was comfortable stay in Yanan’s apartment, or as comfortable as he could be, staying with a demon. There was still so much about Yanan that Wooseok didn’t know, so much he feared. But Yanan was keeping Wooseok safe, so the angel let it be.
Yanan took as good of care of Wooseok as he could manage. He let Wooseok wear some of his own clothing, since they were close to the same size. He made sure Wooseok was well fed, and comfortable, and he’d even introduced Wooseok to some of his own friends. They were eccentric, and intimidating, to say the least, but they were nice to Wooseok. Despite the way Yanan had snapped at them, they really cared for Yanan, that much was clear to the angel. It was odd to Wooseok, how a demon could have such kind friends, and be so kind, when he was a demon. Demons were evil, by nature, yet everything Wooseok learned about Yanan pointed to him being a good person.
Yanan was extraordinarily nice to Wooseok. The angel was grateful for what the other man was doing. But there was no wat he was actually a good person. He was a demon. He’d killed an uncountable number of people. He’d killed someone the night Wooseok had met him—it still made Wooseok’s stomach churn. And there was no way Yanan would stop killing, any time soon. He was a demon, it was what he did, what he had always done. Demons were like that. Wooseok had to remind himself that Yanan, despite what he seemed, was not a good person.
Good person or not, Wooseok was living with him. It happened the previous week, when Wooseok had been thinking about anything but his living situation. Until then, he’d just been staying with the demon, until one of them decided it was time for him to get a grip on the real world, and move out onto his own. He still had no idea how this earth worked, besides the very basics and what Yanan had taught him, but he was going to have to get used to it at one point or another, they both knew that.
Wooseok had been sitting on the couch after Yanan made him breakfast—his favourite chocolate chip pancakes and a glass of strawberry milk. He was watching something animated and colourful on the television, bright words and effects popping up and keeping the angel entertained.
“Hey, angel-face,” Yanan said, white fabric balled up in his hand. He was standing in the entryway to the hall, looking down at the younger man with cat-like eyes. Wooseok looked up at him, used to the nickname. He didn’t exactly like it, but he did suppose it was accurate enough. He was an angel, which meant that his face was, too. “Do you want this sweater?” he held it out, the sweater white and knit. It was far too big for either of them, but Wooseok was finding that he rather liked wearing oversized sweaters and hoodies. It looked soft, so Wooseok nodded. Yanan tossed the sweater in his lap—it was soft. “I think I got it a couple years ago, but I haven’t worn it since, just because I don’t wear white that often, anymore.”
“Why not?” Wooseok asked curiously, eyes flickering between Yanan’s face and the action that was happening on the television.
“I just don’t,” the demon shrugged. He was rushing his words. “Besides, your shoulders are broader than mine, so it’ll probably look better on you, and I figured you’d want to own some actual clothing, instead of just borrowing mine, and hey, do you want to live here, permanently?”
“Oh,” Wooseok said, eyes widening at Yanan’s offer. He hadn’t expected the demon to ask him something like that. “I don’t know where else I would go, at this point, and I don’t mind being here with you.” That was, after the first couple of weeks. It definitely took some time to get used to living with a person, much less a demon. Yanan was up in the middle of the night, and in the bathroom when Wooseok was trying to shower, and sitting on the bed or couch while Wooseok was trying to sleep. Yanan was always there, and Wooseok wasn’t used to that. Yanan’s apartment was a lot different than Heaven, but Wooseok didn’t think that was necessarily a bad thing. “As long as you don’t mind—”
“Wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” Yanan said quickly, running a hand through his inky black hair. His eyelashes kissed the tops of his cheeks when he blinked. Wooseok had spent a lot of the past month looking at Yanan. IT was like he’d memorized every detail of the demons face, except that the demon’s face kept changing. His eyelashes would appear longer, or his lips would have more of a natural pout to them than Wooseok had noticed before. He wondered how long it would take for Yanan’s face to be a fixed object, in his mind. “You’re already practically living here but I could get another bed and we can share the room, or… whatever. You should have your own stuff, so it doesn’t feel like you’re just crashing on my couch.”
Wooseok nodded, “the couch isn’t very comfortable.” For the first bit of Wooseok staying with Yanan, the demon stayed on the couch. It was a nice gesture, but Wooseok felt bad for making Yanan sleep on the couch in his home, so Wooseok was the one who usually took the couch, during the nights. Sometimes, he’d accidentally fall asleep in Yanan’s bed. It was nice of Yanan to offer so much to someone who’d began life on earth with so little. Wooseok wasn’t sure he would have regularly accepted, but he had no where else to go, and Yanan took good care of him. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. He was still weary of constantly having a demon around, but it was Yanan. They’d gotten closer, as time had passed. Good person or not, there was something terrifyingly comforting about Yanan.
The demon nodded, and sat next to Wooseok. He was close enough that their knees bumped, and neither of them moved away when they did. “I know it’s weird living with me, but I kind of like having you around.” He frowned down at his lap, as if his own words irritated him. Then, he looked up at the angel and gave half of a smile, and it was like the expression had never happened.
Wooseok’s lips twitched into a small smile he tried to repress. “You do?” he asked, looking up at Yanan under his eyelashes. Yanan was nice, but it was rare for him to say such nice things. This, coming from Yanan, was like a full-blown compliment.
“Sure I do,” Yanan shrugged, fingers fiddling with a piece of yarn from the sweater that was over Wooseok’s lap. “It’s not as quiet here, anymore, since you’re always watching these animes.”
He looked up at the screen, “I like them,” he admitted. They were fast-paced, and funny, and they kept him busy and entertained while Yanan wasn’t around.
Yanan smiled. “I don’t understand why you like them so much, but they’re okay. It’s cute that you like them so much.” He pat the angel on the knee, eyes following the colourful animation on the screen. “I don’t really get what being an angel is like, so let me know if you need something… extra. I don’t want to totally fuck up, but I’m still a demon, so I probably will.” Wooseok looked back at him, confused as to why Yanan was suddenly talking about this. “If you’re going to live here permanently, I’ll try not to freak you out too much.” There was an implied ‘no promises’ that Wooseok understood. They were two opposite beings. Wooseok was a fallen angel, damned on earth for his sins. And Yanan. Well, Yanan was something of the embodiment of sin.
Wooseok pursed his lips in a nod. “I’m not used to what you are. I’m not used to anything, yet.”
Yanan chuckled in agreement. “We’re not as bad as you think,” he assured, patting Wooseok on the thigh. He sounded so sure of himself, Wooseok was almost inclined to believe him. Except, all of Wooseok’s life, he’d been taught how terrible and vile demons were. Just because Yanan was nice, didn’t make him any different. That was only on the surface.
Wooseok nodded, eyes finding a patch of carpet to stare at. He didn’t like looking at Yanan when he remembered what he was, and all of the things he’d done. He didn’t know if he could believe that Yanan was better than Wooseok thought, because he remembered the way the dead body looked, his first night on earth. He remembered the smell, as Yanan lit the body on fire without so much as a second thought.
“Really,” Yanan said, a crease forming between his eyebrows. He moved back on the couch to get a better look at Wooseok, as if what he was saying was that important. “I know what you think of demons, I know that’s what you’re supposed to think, and that’s fine, but you have to understand that I’m not all that bad. You can’t be afraid of me, if you’re going to live here.”
Wooseok clasped his hands in his lap. He could feel his tense his shoulders were, like even his body was afraid to give in to Yanan, too much. “I know,” he said so quietly, it was almost a whisper. “I’m not afraid of you.” The words tasted superficial on his tongue, like the waxy discount chocolate Yanan had given him. It wasn’t nearly as good as the real thing.
Yanan raised his eyebrows when Wooseok looked back up at him. “Bullshit, you aren’t,” he said, making the angel flinch, just a little bit. Wooseok had gotten really good about not flinching to whatever Yanan did, but some things shook him up more than he’d care to admit. Yanan was a powerful being who could undoubtedly kill Wooseok in the blink of an eye. He had a good excuse to flinch. “You’re terrified of me, kid.” He said the last word softer, like he was trying to make up for making the angel jump.
Wooseok wasn’t afraid. It was true. Wooseok wasn’t afraid of Yanan. Mostly. A bit. “Can you blame me?” he said quietly, looking up at the demon. He wondered how Yanan had known.
Yanan was evil, and violent, and handsome, and cunning. He was strong, and he was smart, the two making up an unstoppable force. Wooseok was sure Yanan could do whatever he put his mind to, whether that was scaring someone out of their own skin, or lighting fires with the snap of his fingers, or killing a thousand people within the span of forty-eight hours. Wooseok knew he could do it, and he knew how easy it would be for Yanan. He had every single reason to be afraid of the man that sat before him. Even if Yanan made him breakfast, and gave him sweaters, and let Wooseok cling to him the one time he got drunk. Even if he did all of this for Wooseok, he was still dark energy and wildfires, and his words were like the split of a maraschino cherry—sugary sweet and coated in red. Even though Yanan let Wooseok sleep in his bed, and wear his hoodies, and watched cooking shows with Wooseok, he was still a demon. It would have been more concerning if Wooseok hadn’t been afraid.
Yanan sighed, his dark pink lips parting. “Fine,” he acquiesced. Even he understood that he was deadly. “Just try not to be so scared of me, alright?”
Wooseok swallowed, sinking into the beige cushions of the couch. “I’ll try.”
Yanan smiled, slumping back next to the angel. He grabbed the remote to turn the show up, so he could watch it with Wooseok. The outsides of their thighs were pressed together. “Me too.”
-
That was that. Wooseok was living with Yanan now. Yanan was living with Wooseok. It was an unfortunate pairing, to say the least. Wooseok didn’t understand how he was supposed to get used to Yanan. He didn’t know how he was supposed to stop being afraid of the demon.
He wanted to stop being afraid. He still sometimes when Yanan snuck up on him. When Yanan touched him, he felt like moving away. Yanan’s hands were nice, and he was gentle, but Wooseok could only remember the way that the woman’s blood stained his hands crimson. Every time he was about to allow himself to feel comforted by the demon’s touch, he was reminded of how the water ran orange in the bathroom of the diner. He was reminded of the shiny black his eyes were, when they weren’t the soft brown colour that took Wooseok a week to notice. He remembered the night he met Yanan, and how powerful he looked in the moonless night. Even if Yanan was nice to him, he couldn’t get it out of his head. Even if Wooseok liked the way Yanan’s face looked when he smiled, there was something that twisted in his gut every time he remembered that Yanan was a demon. He was reminded that Yanan was a killer. And that scared him.
It was getting later, now, a week having passed since his living situation became permanent. Yanan’s apartment—their apartment—was cast in dark blues and dim yellows, the white walls painted by the sky. The sun was already set, outside, the quite rumble of the city on the other side of the walls.
Wooseok was sitting on the couch, where he usually was when Yanan wasn’t with him. He wasn’t watching anime, this time, he was lying down under the soft red blanket Yanan had bought him as a housewarming gift. It smelled like laundry detergent, sort of like Yanan did. Wooseok was only a little bit cold, mostly from where his ankles stuck out from under the blanket. He’d yet to find a blanket long enough to cover his whole body, so he usually just wore socks to bed, despite Yanan’s stigma against it.
Wooseok didn’t really feel like sleeping, right now, but he didn’t know what else to do. Yanan usually kept Wooseok company, but he’d been in his room for most of the day. They’d talked a few times, when Yanan had almost scared the life right out of Wooseok while he was in the bathroom, and when they’d eaten a brief lunch of sandwiches and strawberry milk. Other than that, though, Yanan seemed to want to be kept shut up in his room all day, and Wooseok didn’t want to disturb him just because he was bored. They usually talked all day, or at least watched some shows together, or just sat silently in the other’s presence. Without the familiar company of the demon, Wooseok’s day felt lacking. He’d gotten so used to Yanan being around that just one day without him felt off. He didn’t know what to do all day, without Yanan around. He felt bored, and lost. Lonely.
He was upset with himself for feeling lonely. He knew it was just because Yanan was the only person he actually knew, but about his day without that contact made his stomach hurt. Wooseok was afraid of Yanan, yet here he was, downright missing the demon. It was just too quiet in the apartment, all alone. Wooseok found himself lying on the couch, unable to sleep because he was wondering what Yanan was up to.
He wanted to fall asleep. He didn’t know why he couldn’t close his eyes. He sighed deeply, wishing he could go to sleep without wishing he’d talked more to Yanan, today.
A door creaked open, illuminating the living room with the light from Yanan’s room. Wooseok was about to sit up and see what the demon was doing, but he quickly realized that Yanan was sneaking across the carpet, not wanting to be heard. Wooseok closed his eyes so Yanan wouldn’t notice him, even though he didn’t know why he didn’t want Yanan to see him. And then the front door opened, and Yanan was gone.
He didn’t usually leave this late. He usually stayed in his room until the morning, and then greeted Wooseok with a sleepy gaze and a breakfast. He knew Wooseok didn’t like being alone, especially in the dark, so he made sure to stay one room away, where Wooseok could find him, if he needed to. Wooseok didn’t know what it was, but there was a voice nagging in the back of his thoughts, telling him that something was wrong.
Wooseok sat up quickly, pushing the blanket off of himself. He toed his shoes on next to the door, wide eyes trying to see in the dark. There was something telling Wooseok to stop where he was, to stay in Yanan’s apartment. Another, much louder, much more appealing voice was telling Wooseok that something was wrong, and that Wooseok needed to find out what it was.
And then Wooseok found himself walking down a sidewalk, the moon guiding him. Yan an was also guiding him, considering that he was only about twenty feet in front of him. Yanan was wearing the leather jacket he’d lent Wooseok so many nights ago. Wooseok could see the moonlight glinting off of the material. He was blending seamlessly into the shadows, escaping Wooseok’s vision whenever he passed trees or a building.
Wooseok couldn’t even feel the cool air of the night, despite the favt that he was wearing a simple t-shirt and some duck-print pajama bottoms. His mind was too preoccupied with finding out where Yanan was going. Even if it meant following Yanan across town. They were still what Yanan called ‘downtown,’ buildings surrounding them, nightlife hanging off of the edges of the city.
It seemed like the farther Wooseok followed him, the emptier it became. At first, when Wooseok had started following Yanan, there were people, and dogs, and life surrounding them, reassuring Wooseok that everything was going to be okay, as long as they stayed where it was safe. Yanan dipped between two buildings, and into the darkness. Wooseok had to rush to keep track of him, worried that he would lose track of the demon. If he lost Yanan, there was no way he was going to be able to ever find his way back. Now, there was barely anything going on around them, and Wooseok was feeling more along than he had since the night he fell.
There was something familiar about the night. It reminded Wooseok of the night he fell. It was pitch black, the night air frighteningly still. The only difference in the sky was the presence of the moon. It was dark, and shadowy, and quiet in the way that made Wooseok’s ears ring. It was the type of silence that Wooseok felt he would be able to hear any scream, and the stillness in the air almost guaranteed that he would. He wasn’t as scared as he had been, since now he knew a little more about life on earth, but he was still scared. Without Yanan, he would undoubtably be lost. He would be alone.
When Yanan slipped into a bar, Wooseok stopped dead in his tracks.
Yanan was just going to a bar. It was a totally normal thing to do. Wooseok had followed him all the way across town just to see him go into a bar. He’d probably waited this long to go out because he didn’t want to feel obligated to take Wooseok with him, like he had been for the past month. Besides, Yanan had always enjoyed the nighttime more than the day, so it made sense. Everything Wooseok was having suspicions about was cleared up in a second, leaving Wooseok to feel like he was ridiculous for even having them.
It occurred to Wooseok that he was now totally alone, in a place that seemed uninhabited by all creatures. And it was dark, in the way that strained Wooseok’s eyes. There was a streetlight, but it was dim, and it wasn’t helping Wooseok feel any less afraid. Goosebumps covered Wooseok’s bare arms as the cold finally reached his skin. The angel was lost, without Yanan to guide him. And he was scared.
Wooseok didn’t know what to do, so he stood with his back to the building opposite of the bar, waiting for an answer. Maybe he could wait for Yanan to leave the bar, so they could go home together. He didn’t like being alone in the dark—it made every bad thought he’d ever had come to the front of his mind until he was sweating, and afraid of the things in his own head. He could wait for Yanan to finish his drinks, so Yanan could guide him all the way to the apartment. He could wait all night, if he had to, against the cold brick wall. He didn’t want to go inside, to search for Yanan, to tell him he’d followed him all the way inside. He didn’t want to be any more of a burden to Yanan that he already was being, and already had been. He’d rather just wait, so he didn’t disturb the demon or take away from his fun. It couldn’t be too long, right?
Wooseok distracted himself by looking at the moths being drawn to the flickering orange of the streetlight. Moths were interesting creatures, to Wooseok. They were attracted to light to the point that it was dangerous; a fatal attraction. Moths got so close to a lamp, or the headlights of a car, or even an open flame, to the point that it would cause their untimely demise. They were a pretty sort of bug, in Wooseok’s opinion, but the thing they loved most and strove for was the thing that would most likely kill them. Something as simple as light. It was really the question of how insects could be so thoroughly tricked—lured—to their death by light, on such a grand scale.
Wooseok wondered if humans could be like moths. Humans seemed to crave whatever was bad for them, whether they knew it was bad, or not. They would keep reaching, and reaching for their sliver of light, but like a moth, they couldn’t tell if it was artificial or not. They couldn’t tell if it was at all attainable, but that didn’t lessen the vigor they existed with. They followed their light like moths followed the moon, without purpose, or thought. It was a fatal attraction, following the thing that was so dangerous to them. Just because they thought it was beautiful.
Wooseok wondered if that was why he’d followed Yanan all the way to this bar.
Even though he knew the demon was dangerous, he’d still followed him in Yanan’s natural habitat. Wooseok was in danger—of Yanan, of the night—but he was still here. He wondered if he was so drawn to Yanan just because he was dangerous.
If Wooseok was a moth, Yanan was a crackling bonfire. There was no way Wooseok wasn’t going to get burnt up to ash, like dust in Yanan’s palm.
Just as the thought crossed Wooseok’s mind and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, Yanan came outside, his leather jacket draped around his shoulders. He was barely within the limit of the streetlight, but Wooseok could still see his feline features, turned up into a sharp smile. He walked like he owned the very cement he walked on, and the air that surrounded him. Yanan was the presence of a fire, and Wooseok so badly wanted to let his palms get burnt.
Yet, Wooseok was terrified of the way the fire would sear his skin, so he kept his distance. He always kept his distance, because Yanan was more powerful than any fire he could imagine.
Wooseok was about to approach him, to where he was haloed in orange. But then Yanan turned his shoulder, and Wooseok could see that there was another man with him, walking equally as confident as the demon was. They were walking along the side of the bar, talking in low voices Wooseok couldn’t pick up. Yanan laughed, though, a sound that Wooseok had grown accustomed to causing.
Wooseok just kept watching them. He watched them move toward the alley next to them, and followed them into a place darker than the last. The alley stunk of trash and alcohol, since they were right next to a bar. It was nearly pitch black, so Wooseok cold barely make out the features of the two men he was following, and it was likely they couldn’t see him at all. The only light that was catching Yanan’s features was the light of the moon, and Wooseok thought he understood the appeal of the moon to moths, for a second. It’s pale glow made Wooseok want to stare forever, at the way shadows accentuated the pout of Yanan’s lips, and the straightness of his nose.
Yanan pressed the man against the brick wall, the other man’s hands on the demon’s waist.
Like several other things that night, it made sense. Yanan liked men and had made that very clear to Wooseok. It was fine, Wooseok just wasn’t used the that sort of thing, since he’d been in Heaven his whole life. Yanan liked men, and that was why he was with this man. Wooseok knew he shouldn’t have been watching them, under these circumstances, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Even as Yanan leaned in, closer and closer, like he was about to kiss the man. Wooseok couldn’t pull his attention away. The demon leaned closer to the man, until their lips were almost touching. Wooseok wanted to look away, but there was something that made him want to keep looking. It was like how people were tempted to look at a solar eclipse, even if they absolutely weren’t supposed to. Yanan’s lips were so close to the other mans.
Wooseok was figuring out that it wasn’t only moths and humans that enjoyed the dangerous and unattainable. It was angels, too.
Yanan was moving faster than Wooseok’s eyes wanted to register, and his hand was wrapped around the man’s throat, holding him up against the wall. The man was gasping like a fish out of water, but Yanan didn’t hesitate to keep talking, saying something that the angel couldn’t hear. All he could hear was the way the mans struggled to breathe.
Wooseok was stuck once again with the need to run. He couldn’t, though—he was paralyzed. Yanan laughed, a cold, terrifying laugh that Wooseok had never heard before, much less caused him to make. Wooseok gasped, but luckily neither of the other two heard him. Yanan drew his free hand back, still holding the man against the wall. The man’s hands clawed at Yanan’s, trying to get access to breathe, again. But it was no use. Yanan wasn’t even phased. Yanan plunged his hand forward, forcing it through the man’s shirt, and into the center of his body. Blood immediately blossomed from around Yanan’s wrist, sputtering and spilling out from the man’s mouth, as well.
Wooseok could smell the sharp, metallic scent. His fingers were shaking, his knees wobbly. His stomach was churning, like he was about to throw up, and his head was spinning all the same. He couldn’t bare to look, yet no matter what he did, his body didn’t want to let him look away. Yanan was killing this man, right in front of the angel.
Blood was running down the man’s chin, splattering when he coughed. He was struggling against Yanan, but the demon was strong, so his attempts were useless. Besides, Yanan had just run his hand straight through the man’s skin; he was bleeding out. His entire shirt was soaked in blood, both from his wound and from where he coughed it up. Yanan’s hand was on the inside of him, right alongside his organs. There was no way the man could even get Yanan to break a sweat. He was totally, completely defenseless against the overwhelming and dark power than was Yanan.
Yanan was more powerful than any human could comprehend. Wooseok could hardly comprehend it. Yanan may have been tall, and lithe, but he was strong. His body was strong, his tongue sharp like the blade of a knife. He was electrifyingly strong, every molecule of his being practically vibrating with intensity. There was no light in the alleyway, but there didn’t need to be—Yanan drew in every beam of light from the stars and moon. It was the opposite of the way moths flew towards light. Light was attracted to Yanan like it needed him to keep on shining. Yanan was fire, and wind, and inky, pulling darkness, and explosive heat. Wooseok was in awe. He was beyond terrified.
The demon let the man fall to the ground, his body limp, bending unnaturally when he hit the cement with a dull ‘thud!’ Yanan took a step back to inspect his work, wiping blood off of his face with a hand. Flames erupted around the body, crackling a vibrant orange in the pitch black of the night.
Yanan turned away from the fire, and Wooseok could see the shiny, pure black of the demon’s eyes. Wooseok wanted to run, but his feet were still stuck to the pavement, sticky with the stillness of fear.
The demon gasped loudly, his eyes rolling away from black, back to the hue than Wooseok knew. With the whites of his eyes finally showing, Wooseok could actually see how wide his eyes were.
When he spoke, his voice was a shocked whisper. “Wooseok?” he asked, unmoving. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Wooseok was shaking. His throat was tight. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but instead, tears started streaming down his face, and he trembled all the way down to his knees. His stomach twisted hard enough, and he retched, throwing up right there.
Yanan crossed over to Wooseok, kneeling next to him. “Wooseok?” he said softly. When Wooseok didn’t respond, the demon shuffled next to him. “Wooseok, are you okay? Wooseok, dude—angel face, come on. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
The angel shook his head, not in response to any question in particular. He sat up on his knees, making sure to not look at Yanan. He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything at all.
Yanan set his hand on Wooseok’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you were there, seriously. Why are you here?” he sounded sincere. Wooseok was sure he looked sincere, too, but he couldn’t manage to take that into consideration, right now. The hand on Wooseok’s shoulder was soaked in drying brick-red blood, cracking where Yanan’s fingers bent. When he noticed Wooseok staring at it with wide eyes, he snapped it off of the angel’s shoulder, like he’d burnt his hand.
Wooseok wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It was hard to breathe, with the way he was heaving, tears rolling down and dripping off of his chin. “I followed you here,” Wooseok finally choked out, looking at the shadow Yanan cast on the pavement. It seemed darker than normal shadows. “I just wanted to see what you were doing, because you didn’t talk to me a lot today, I—I didn’t know you were going to—to—” another sob racked his body, and he was squeezing his eyes shut. He didn’t want to remember what he’d just seen, but the fire in front of him served as a cruel reminder.
Wooseok looked at Yanan, for the first time since Yanan had noticed him. His face was flecked in a black that Wooseok knew would have been red in any other light. His eyes were wide and glassy, focusing on Wooseok’s face. “If I had known you’d followed me, I wouldn’t have killed that guy.”
“Well, you did,” Wooseok said, looking away from Yanan’s face. The blood was making him queasy.
Yanan sighed. “Fucking hell, Wooseok, you shouldn’t have followed me.”
“I know that now,” Wooseok snapped. The harshness of his own words made him flinch. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know you were still killing people.” He stood to his full height, his legs still shaking underneath him. “I can’t believe you would do that.” More tears streamed from his eyes. He had finally gotten somewhat comfortable with the demon. He didn’t flinch every time the demon touched him, anymore. Now, all Wooseok could think about was how nonchalantly Yanan killed whoever he wanted.
“Look, kid,” Yanan said, his dark eyes narrowed at the angel. “I do kill people. I’m a demon. Just because you’re living with me doesn’t mean I’m going to stop. You can’t expect me to do everything your way, because if it were the other way around, you wouldn’t survive.”
Wooseok knit his eyebrows. “I’m not asking you to do everything my way. I just don’t want you to kill innocent people.” He didn’t have the energy to argue with Yanan, right now. He felt exhausted, from following him out here, and how tense he’d been the whole time. The crying and throwing up didn’t help much, either.
“Innocent people?” Yanan scoffed, his voice raised. “Are you kidding me? I told you right off the bat that I only kill people who deserve it. That guy was a rapist, you don’t even want to know the shit he’s done. Don’t give me that innocent people bullshit, Wooseok.”
He flinched at his name but started walking towards the entrance of the alleyway. “Oh,” Wooseok said. He didn’t know if that justified what Yanan had done. Of course, he couldn’t agree with rape—that was one of the worst things humans did. But murder, especially in the way Yanan had done it… it was awful. If anything, Yanan balanced out what the man did. It wasn’t good. But it wasn’t as bad as Wooseok had first thought.
Yanan put his hand on Wooseok’s shoulder to stop him. “Anyway,” he said, looking up at the angel. “I’m sorry.”
Wooseok shrugged his way out of Yanan’s touch. “You have blood on your hands,” was what he chose to say. “Please don’t touch me.”
If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that Yanan flinched.
-
They walked home in silence. Wooseok didn’t know what more he could say, right now. Another time, perhaps, he could really get upset with Yanan and everything he’d done. But Wooseok was upset. With the man for being awful, with Yanan for killing him, with himself for following Yanan like he was some sort of moth that craved light.
Yanan led the way home, which Wooseok was grateful for. He didn’t know the way back, himself. Besides, Wooseok didn’t like being alone in the dark.
They got up to the apartment, and Wooseok turned the kitchen and living room light on. Yanan moved to the kitchen sink, washing his hands. He did it until the water ran clear, then wiped his face clean.
His skin was wet, catching in the light of the kitchen. “Is this better?” he asked, looking defeated.
Wooseok sat on the couch, his knees pulled close together. He looked up at Yanan. “Your clothes,” he said quietly, staring at the dried blood on his jeans.
Yanan rolled his eyes with a shrug, and shook his head. He disappeared into his room, but for Wooseok’s sake, was back before the loneliness could set in. When he came back, he had on a pair of plaid pajama pants, a black t-shirt in his hands. His bare skin was pale, devoid of blemishes. Wooseok was pretty sure he was never going to get used to how nonchalantly Yanan changed in front of him. But Yanan looked clean—pure, almost. “Fine,” he sighed. “There’s no blood on me, now. Will you talk to me?”
“Alright,” Wooseok said, looking up at Yanan.
Wooseok’s chin was resting on his knees, but Yanan sat close enough for their sides to be flush. “I’m sorry,” he said, putting a hand on the taller man’s knee. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Wooseok slumped on the couch. “You said you weren’t going to scare me, anymore.” He was scared of Yanan. He’d always been afraid of Yanan. From the very moment he’d laid eyes on him.
“I’m trying,” Yanan said without hesitation. “I’m really trying not to scare you, but you have to meet me in the middle sometimes, alright?”
Wooseok felt like he was shrinking under Yanan’s gaze, as kind as it was. “I’m sorry I followed you. We just didn’t talk all day, so I—”
“You missed me?” Yanan interrupted, the traces of a smile on his face. He raised his eyebrows in amusement.
Wooseok frowned, looking away from the demon’s face. “I don’t know,” he pouted, clasping his hands in his lap. He didn’t miss Yanan. “It’s boring being alone all day,” he said. “Usually you’re out here.”
Yanan’s smile widened into a real one, and he ruffled the angel’s hair. “You did miss me. If you miss me, just tell me. Don’t follow me in the middle of the night.”
Wooseok nodded. “Sorry.”
Yanan stood, a hand on the top of Wooseok’s head. “It’s fine,” he said. The corners of his mouth were turned up. All Wooseok could thing about was the blood dripping out of the man’s mouth. “Goodnight, Wooseok.”
Yanan was halfway to his room when Wooseok shot off of the couch. His heart was beating loudly. “Yanan.”
“Yeah?” the demon said, turning to look at Wooseok.
The angel swallowed hard. He could feel his eyes welling up with tears, again. “I really don’t want to be alone, right now.” He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Yanan was trong enough to put his hand through someone without breaking a sweat. Yet, here he had been, comforting Wooseok on the couch. Ever since Wooseok fell, nothing seemed to make any sense at all.
“Hey, don’t cry,” Yanan said, his voice softer than the angel had ever heard it. He took a few steps bac to Wooseok, grabbing both of his hands with his own. “I won’t hurt you, angel. You know that.”
Wooseok nodded, but it was too late. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, his lower lip quivering.
“Come here,” Yanan said, pulling Wooseok into his spread arms. Wooseok sniffled and wrapped his long arms around the demon. Yanan squeezed Wooseok tight, a few more sobs shaking the angel’s form. “That’s better, right?”
Wooseok’s face was buried in the demon’s shoulder, tears dampening the fabric of his t-shirt. Yanan was warm. He was comfortable. He was hugging Wooseok, and even though he was a demon, and Wooseok was an angel, he liked it. A lot.
When Wooseok pulled away, he wiped his cheeks with his fingers. “Thank you.”
Yanan cleared his throat and stepped away. “Right,” he said, moving towards his room. “Do you want to sleep with me?”
Wooseok felt his ears get hot. “What?”
Yanan rolled his eyes, coughing out a laugh. “Not like that, you baby. If I’m trying to have sex with you, you’ll know. Do you want to sleep in my bed with me?”
Wooseok really didn’t want to be alone. “Sure.”
Yanan’s shoulders relaxed. “Okay,” he breathed out. “If you steal all of the blankets, I’ll push you off. And try not to cuddle me in your sleep, I’m not one of your pillows.”
Wooseok let himself smile, just a little. “I can’t control what I do in my sleep,” he pointed out, following Yanan into the bedroom. He toed off his shoes and practically jumped under the covers. Living on earth made Wooseok understand how tired crying made him.
Yanan looked at him for a moment, and shook his head in amusement. “I can’t believe how pure you are.” He shoved his shoes off, kicking them to the corner of the room.
Wooseok blinked his yes at the demon. “What do you mean?”
Yanan sat in the bed, next to Wooseok. He slid his legs under the covers. “You’re pure,” he said simply. “I haven’t met an angel before, so I’ve never seen someone as pure as you. You’re like a newborn baby.”
Wooseok sat up so he could get a better look at Yanan. “How can you tell?” Even though he was living with Yanan, he still didn’t know a lot about demons. He didn’t know if Yanan could actually tell, or if it was his intuition.
“It’s easy to see,” the demon responded. He put his phone on the nightstand next to the bed, eyes flickering on something opposite of the anfel. “The people I kill are grey, or black, or a putrid green, or red like blood. But you’re… blank. Solid white. You’re innocent, more than anyone I’ve ever seen.
“I’m not innocent,” Wooseok said, shaking his head. “I fell from Heaven, there’s no way I’m completely pure.” He knew he wasn’t holy, because he fell. The only truly perfect beings were the ones who remained there. Someone who was damned wasn’t pure. Wooseok knew that much.
Yanan sighed, and looked down at the angel. “Look, kid, I don’t know what you did—you don’t have to tell me—but whatever it was, it was barely anything. It was like a mosquito bite, just a tiny blemish on your record. You’re still too damned pure for your own good.” Yanan slid down the bed, until he was completely lying down. It felt warm, under the blankets. Yanan was a really warm person.
“It’s just one thing, but it’s still something,” Wooseok argued. There was still a blemish on his record. “I’m still—”
“Okay,” Yanan said quickly. “You’re the purest person I’ve ever seen, and I’ve really seen it all. I don’t know if that helps, but you are. So.”
Wooseok smiled. “That does help a little bit. Thank you.”
Yanan smiled right back. His eyes crinkled into crescents when he smiled, the apples of his cheeks rounder. “Good. Now go to sleep, kid. I won’t even shut the lights off.”
“Thank you,” Wooseok repeated, settling into the mattress. “Goodnight.” That was one of Wooseok’s favourite things he’d learned on earth. He liked wishing someone—only Yanan, so far—a good night.
Yanan closed his eyes. “Night, angel.”