Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The heavy wooden doors creak when Jeongin pushes them open.

The church is quiet. Only a gust of wind greets him, no flickering candles, no choirs singing. Still air that smells a bit stale, compared to the fresh night outside.

Jeongin always thought his church to be beautiful. The swung ceiling that towers in heights that seem unreachable for those without wings. Colorful windows everywhere usually glow like embers when the sun falls through them during the sermon.

As Jeongin’s wet shoes rapidly clack over the cold stone tonight, only the quiet, silvery moonlight reaches towards him. The air inside the church is damp, every step vibrating with the echo around him, the smell of mud and rotting wood more penetrant than usual.

In the middle of the moon’s silent light stands a shadow. The shape of a young man leans against the altar, facing him. Casual. Familiar. And yet every inch of him looks jagged.

Jeongin’s fingers clench harder around the cold, biting metal in his hand. A sun, delicately crafted from pure gold, the tiniest of rubies in its middle.

The cloak restricts Jeongin’s movements, heavy and thick around his shoulders. He keeps one hand on his collar to loosen it, should he need to, as he walks down the aisle. The heavy door falls shut behind him, and the thump rumbles over the ground, stirs up dust.

“How dare you!”, Jeongin grits out once he is close enough to be heard. He passes the wooden praying banks, rows upon rows for the believers that regularly fill his sermons, as he closes in on the altar. The shadow that leans against it smiles. A stark contrast of white teeth against the darkness, as if they would shine from within.

Jeongin’s breath condenses in a damp cloud on his cold face, but the rage inside of him burns hot enough to keep him warm.

He stops at the hem of the stone stairs. The ones that lead up to the altar, and thereby, to the shadow. With every blink Jeongin makes, its features seem to become a little less blurry, a little more focused.

A little more human.

There’s a nose, slim, then the eyes of a cat. The most beautiful lips pulled into a smirk around a mouth full of perfect teeth. Black hair falls around a face that could have been crafted by the God himself, his most wonderful creation.

Beautiful.

And yet, all of it is wrong. The creature before him is not human. And it certainly has not been crafted by Jeongin’s God.

The heavy fabric of the coat seems to pull down Jeongin’s shoulders, as if it wanted to make him smaller. Force him to his knees in front of… In front of the altar. Not in front of the creature before him.

A creature that lifts its chin as its narrow eyes fixate on Jeongin. Like a cat that has set sight on a toy, a predator that wants to play with its food. Heart pounding, Jeongin suppresses the shiver of fear that tries to run through him.

He’s dealt with more than enough of them to know they are dangerous.

The creature stands inhumanly still. Only its tongue darts out, red like wine, and licks over its lips as if it couldn’t wait to devour Jeongin. Its eyes glow. “Hello, little priest.” The voice is too soft and melodic for a being so horrible.

Jeongin scoffs. His teeth clench on their own, as his hand finally unties the knot of his coat and lets it drop onto the rough church floor. Beneath it, he reveals naked, muscular arms, the symbol of the sun inked into each of them with various prayers lining the prongs.

“I give you five seconds to get out of his body before this gets ugly.”

The creature whistles through its teeth. Then, a cackle vibrates around the large church hall that makes the hairs in Jeongin’s neck stand up.

He works his jaw as he takes a deep breath to steady himself. He’s not playing games tonight. “Five.”

With a dramatic sigh, the creature pushes itself off the altar, and Jeongin tenses in anticipation of an attack. But all it does is rise to its full height, towering before the altar, against the moonlit stained windows in the back like it was the God Himself.

“I did not take a body”, it says, flexing its hand in front of its face as if to confirm it. “This is all mine.”

“You’re lying.” The golden sun firmly in his hand, Jeongin reaches out with the other, palm facing the creature. “You’re a demon. Give him back! Now!”

Jeongin knows it is lying.

Because the body the creature is using is painfully familiar to him.

Hwang Hyunjin.

A single year older than him, new to the church but devotedly visiting every sermon the last year. The most beautiful human Jeongin has ever seen. Ever blessed.

He stayed behind every single time to talk to Jeongin while he cleaned up after the sermon. They talked not just about the church, about everything. Life, dreams, hopes…

And Jeongin had wondered, without fault, if this was his God’s way of rewarding him for his works. That someone so kind, and funny, and creative as Hyunjin would take interest in him.

“Oh”, Hyunjin says, cocking his head as he flicks a strand of hair out of the way. “Because demons cannot have their own bodies?”

“Only if…” Jeongin’s blood runs cold.

His arm shakes. Every muscle feels suddenly instable as another, gruesome possibility runs through his mind.

No.

Jeongin breathes shakily. If what he fears is true, then that would mean that Hyunjin is not possessed. He would have been someone – something – unspeakably horrible all this time. He would have lied to Jeongin for a year. Every single one of their interactions would have been… nothing more than a try to gain his trust.

It would mean that Hyunjin never, not once, actually cared for him.

No matter how much Jeongin tries to keep his voice steady, he cannot. Not when he is suddenly confronted with a truth that makes cruel sense. That reveals why Hyunjin had seemed so interested in him, why his eyes had raked over Jeongin’s body in a way they were not supposed to.

The puzzle pieces fall into place with a quiet click that might as well be his heart falling apart.

The air around Jeongin is thin when he speaks. “You’re an incubus?”

Hyunjin crosses his arms with the most devious, devastating smirk as Jeongin feels his stomach revolt. His mind is running a mile a minute in denial, because how could he not have noticed? He should have felt it, it doesn’t make sense, Hyunjin should have burnt when Jeongin blessed him during the sermon, so why-!

Why…

Jeongin cannot quite feel his face. There’s a thick lump in his throat as his words echo through the church. Only wood creaks in the background as if to express a tiny bit of sympathy.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Jeongin shakes his head. It doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. “Your five seconds are up”, he croaks, and plans to pulverize Hyunjin so thoroughly that he’ll never be able to tell anyone how pathetic he acts just now.

With a deep breath, Jeongin opens his mouth and recites his prayer.

His lips move around practiced words, the language of God, taught to him meticulously in years of training. Jeongin had excelled his classes. He was the youngest in his year to kill a demon, and has read every book about the holy language he could get his hands on.

The words flow out of his mouth like a never-ending waterfall.

The sun in his hand rattles with a metallic clang as it rapidly heats against his palm. Power flows through him. The tattoos on Jeongin’s arms glow in the dark church as they channel the divine energy of his words. It’s weaker in the night, but that has never stopped him before.

It certainly won’t stop him now.

More divine power thrums through Jeongin’s body, loud like a rising tide inside his ears. The wooden benches around him start to rattle one by one in time with his chants.

All of Jeongin’s body heats up. It’s a powerful spell, the one he has chosen. Maybe more powerful than it needs to be, but he’s petty like that. He’ll blow Hyunjin into tiny bits, just the way his heart feels now that he knows the truth.

And since Hyunjin somehow managed to sneak under his radar, it might be necessary. Jeongin has never met a demon able to do so, able to escape his wards, and even his blessings.

That means Hyunjin might be much more powerful than he seems.

Jeongin’s eyes never leave Hyunjin’s, usually a dark brown, but here, in the darkness of the church, they almost glow silver. Everything about him suddenly looks otherworldly, and Jeongin thinks, he should have known.

Tense, Jeongin is prepared for the demon to start running, to attack, to do anything, body ready to react to even the slightest flinch.

But Hyunjin just sighs dramatically, as he lets his whole weight rest against the altar of Jeongin’s God. A blasphemy in and on itself! How dare he, a demon, touch the holy altar?

Gut boiling, Jeongin channels more energy into the spell. Gathers it up until he can barely breathe, until his outstretched hand starts to glow with the Godly power. It hurts, like a weight pressing onto his whole body, but that’s a necessary evil.

The glow of it lights up the darkness of the church, surrounds Jeongin’s body in a protective layer, a cautious measure Jeongin has learnt the hard way to be necessary. Never attack without protecting yourself. Just in case the demon suddenly moves.

Hyunjin still calmly stares down on him. He is either crazy – or truly much more powerful than he seems, Jeongin thinks. No demon ever remained this calm in the face of a certain wipe from existence. They fight, they scream, some have even begged.

Scowling, Jeongin wonders just how strong Hyunjin is. Something about this just irks him. Has his heart pounding. As if he instinctively knew that he would do better to run.

Jeongin interrupts his spell for a moment of hesitation. The light swirls around him leisurely, as if it was staring at him in question. Waiting for him to continue, for him to give it some sort of command.

And Jeongin changes the spell. He adds new words, improvises what he chants, speaks new words that he has studied tightly just for a moment like this, and a swirling storm takes hold of the church.

Wind blows into his face. It tugs on his hair like a wild animal, almost taking his breath away. Noise rises, an erratic rush that pounds against Jeongin’s ears.

The wooden benches creak as they shift over the floor, before they loudly crash into one another.

It is with great satisfaction that Jeongin watches Hyunjin’s face drop, eyes wide. They glow with something ominous, and Jeongin’s heart pounds even faster. Screams at him to run. But the triumph in Jeongin’s blood is stronger.

There is the fear Jeongin wanted to see. The surprise in Hyunjin’s eyes, the doubt if he can make it out of this. Jeongin knows he won’t. He can’t. But surely he must fight now. There is no escape.

The tension between them stretches endlessly, and Jeongin anticipates something any moment now. His heart beats even louder than the storm, pounds against his ribcage. Watches Hyunjin, who stands still, so very still, as his black clothes sway wildly around his body.

Surely something will happen. Something must-

Hyunjin pounces.

One blink he’s at the altar, the next he’s gone. Too fast.

Alarmed, Jeongin’s head whips around as he keeps chanting, voice loud and even against the storm that swallows his words and feeds them right into the power of his prayer.

Jeongin’s eyes flick over the benches, forced by the wind against the wall, the windows, the ceiling. Search the shadows behind the sturdy large pillars.

Not to the left. Heart pounding, Jeongin’s head turns to the other side.

Not to the right.

Where-?

Mouth dry, Jeongin grabs the sun harder, even as it nicks his skin. He must not lose it. It is the only thing that protects him from this demon, the only way to fight it!

There’s only one spot where Hyunjin can be now. And that is behind him. Jeongin can feel it. Can feel the eyes of a predator watching him. A deep feeling of dread settles in his bones, cold, freezing him, warning him not to turn. Not to look.

If he looks, it will get him.

Jeongin’s hand trembles.

But if he doesn’t look, Hyunjin will get him, too. He’s an exorcist. He has to do this. He has to face this demon, even if he might die doing so.

Jeongin whirls around.

The storm follows him, throws the wooden benches and unlit candelabras across the hall with the loudest crash, and Jeongin only has time to catch a glimpse at Hyunjin’s devious expression right behind him before he’s gone again.

Almost done. The spell is almost ready to be released. Jeongin desperately tries to keep calm when he cannot find Hyunjin again. Again and again, he tells himself that he has the upper hand. Here, he is more powerful than any demon ever recorded.

Because Hyunjin made a fatal mistake coming into the church: As soon as a priest like him enters, it is a protected space. A sealed space. The divine power here is strong enough that any demon will be trapped inside its net.

Hyunjin cannot escape.

So Jeongin just has to make sure his spell is powerful enough to reach into every nook and corner of the church to blast him to bits. To burn everything that has no right to be in these holy halls, even when it tries to hide in the shadows.

He can do this. He can do this!

And so Jeongin closes his eyes.

It leaves him vulnerable to surprise. But if Hyunjin is powerful enough to reach him even through the thick wall of protection he has by now summoned, that is his fate. Then he will die fighting for his God.

For this, however, for what he has to do now, seeing would only distract him.

Eyes closed, Jeongin focuses down into the hot sun in his hand. He follows the path of its power up through his arm, into his neck, down his spine. All the way, until it connects to the floor through his feet. The threads of divine power that simmer under the ground of the church answer him.

Their net woven into every chamber and tower. Jeongin sees it like a large set of golden strings that run around everywhere, intertwined, surrounding the whole church.

There is no way to escape it. Every line thrums in time with the pulses of Jeongin’s energy that he sends out anticipating the release of his spell. They answer him, tell him they will fight for him.

Before his inner eye, Jeongin sees everything. He sees the attic of the church, where the old ceremonial gown of the last high-priest waits for someone to pick it up. He sees the giant metal pipes of the organ, overseeing the hall he stands in as if waiting to blast their sound.

He even sees down into the crypta, where the skeletons of those before him rot away, only the gold they were buried with remaining between the dust. Powerful trinkets with symbols that serve as pools of the divine energy, and make Jeongin’s feet feel heavier. As if the dead wanted to pull him down towards them.

Instead, Jeongin borrows their power. All of the church is pulsating with it, the storm tearing at his body like a pack of hungry wolves, and it is with a deep satisfaction that Jeongin knows, absolutely certain, that Hyunjin is completely and utterly trapped inside it with him.

His eyes open, but now he still sees the glowing threads that weave through the ground of the church, up the columns, through the paintings on the walls and ceiling. They glow like a golden net, like blood vessels in perfect rows, every knot beating loudly in time with Jeongin’s heart.

The room spins around Jeongin, stops when he blinks, and spins again.

It’s hard to keep on his feet. He’s at his limits. Inwardly, Jeongin curses. He doesn’t think he’s ever used a spell as powerful as this one, and begs his God for grace. To keep him conscious, and to allow him to refill the energy once this is over.

It is in His name that Jeongin takes a deep, desperate breath, fights to catch the air from the storm that roars past his mouth him, and slams his hand onto the trembling ground. Directly onto one of the golden knots.

A powerful pulse rumbles through the whole building. Dust shakes from crevices in the pillars, fills the air with an earthy smell and momentarily blocks every window. Jeongin keeps staring at the net, sees through it with his inner eye, follows the path of his energy that expands like ripples in a lake throughout the veins of the church.

And suddenly, it becomes too much. Jeongin doubles over with a scream as his body starts burning. Every vein fills with lava, that flows slow and cruel through his body.

He’s engulfed in the heat that flares into the hall. Fire eats at Jeongin’s skin, his eyes, his nostrils. He can’t breathe, and yet he tries. Keeps calm the way he has learnt to, lets the power flow through him even as tears run from his eyes, in and back out, quick enough so it won’t harm him permanently.

Every second feels like one too long. The agonizing heat hurts more than anything else. He’s burnt alive, insides charred red. And yet, Jeongin allows it to continue. He’s strong. He grits his teeth. In his exorcism classes, Jeongin was the strongest of his whole year, hell, in his whole generation. He can bear it. He can!

The amplitude between the pulses that ripple through the energy net rises higher. They become louder, go almost silent, then push against Jeongin’s eardrums again.

Again.

Again.

Almost done.

The heat starts to diffuse so very slowly, and Jeongin grits his teeth as he holds onto his consciousness through it.

Come on. Almost done.

One last, giant pulse rattles through the church and Jeongin’s bones, fills the hall with noise and shakes the earth, and then – silence.

It feels too loud in Jeongin’s ears. They rush with the sudden nothingness and for a moment, he feels like he’ll fall into the darkness that surrounds him.

But his vision returns. The dust settles on the ground like silent snowflakes, like ashes after a city burnt.

Everything is still. Jeongin releases the pressure of his hand against the floor. He’s a little out of breath, but his prayers must have been heard. He’s tired, but not fully exhausted. Surely, the grace of his God.

Jeongin lets out a shaky breath. Slowly, he rises in the middle of the destruction he caused.

Two of the benches he can see have shattered against the stone walls. The wood is cracked straight down the middle, and will need repair or replacement. The rest lies every which way over one another. Candelabras and broken candles are scattered all over the floor, some paintings askew, but it’s nothing Jeongin cannot fix.

Focusing inward, he tries to sense Hyunjin’s presence. Searches for that familiar ringing in his head when a demon is near. For that sound of alert when his wards are triggered. He doesn’t hear it.

Did it work?

Jeongin looks around, towards the entrance of the church and the two stone gargoyles that silently watch over it. They are still intact, and still filled with his energy. Licking his lips, Jeongin figures they would tell him if Hyunjin was still here.

The presence of a demon in his church, within his wards, was what woke him up in the first place during this calm night. Like an inkling in the back of his head, an insistent noise that refused to go away, an itch – accompanied by what unmistakably felt like the light, fresh breeze that always surrounds Hyunjin like an aura.

Now, there is nothing.

Jeongin chews on his lip. It still does not make sense, though. If Hyunjin truly is a demon… why has he never sensed it before? How did he slip under his radar? How was he able to pass the wards, how could he receive Jeongin’s blessing without bursting into flames?

Maybe he lied. It is what demons do. Maybe he really just possessed Hyunjin, the poor boy, who must lie somewhere within these halls now. Confused, probably, but hopefully unharmed. If he is human, he will not have been hurt.

Jeongin tells himself it still is a possibility. Even when deep inside him, he already knows the truth. He’s sensed it the second he saw Hyunjin lean against that altar, he just tried too hard to deny it.

The alternative is just too heavy to bear: That Hyunjin is not just a demon, but an incubus. A being made to seduce people into unspeakable sin and steer them away from God. That he is able to conceal his presence to the point of going utterly unnoticed not just by the wards, but also Jeongin himself.

That he might still be here, even though Jeongin cannot feel him, no matter how hard he concentrates. Jeongin’s heartrate speeds up at the thought. A demon that powerful… what would he do against it?

Craning his head around, Jeongin tensely looks for any sign of movement. A shadow that does not look right, or a gust of wind where none should be. His fingers are still closed around the sun, now cool like regular metal against his palm.

His eyes trace over the paintings on the wall, depictions of his God blessing the crops with the sun so they may grow. Next to it, a painting of demons, banished into the eternal shadows of His light.

No signs of Hyunjin.

He’s gone.

Pain tugs deeply on Jeongin’s stomach, and it has nothing to do with the power he used. Resignation spills from it, the permanent question why he seems to be damned to loneliness on repeat in Jeongin’s head.

He swallows the lump in his throat.

Silently, Jeongin uses his free hand to draw a circle into the air before his chest, before he presses his palm to his heart. Once more, the two suns that were inked into his biceps glow. Just a quick, light flare.

A healing spell.

It doesn’t quite lift all the pain that has burnt through his body. It never does. But it allows him to breathe a little lighter, allows the cold air inside the church to smell like long forgotten ashes instead of fresh, acrid smoke.

Then, Jeongin turns towards the altar, shoes scratching over the ground. A large stone table lies before him, used during sermons to portray the plentiful food they sacrifice to their God. Nobody but the priests and their students know what the shackles on the sides are for.

They are made of gold, short, sturdy, and used to tie down demons for practice exorcisms.

It feels so long ago that Jeongin has been taught with the other apprentices. The way the demon screamed when Jeongin killed him, or the way it had begged and bargained before.

Jeongin will have to start teaching soon, he knows. The church has been nagging him about it for a couple of months now, even though Jeongin insists he is too young, and too useful on the field.

Both of which is correct. He is merely twenty-five, and yet, he has already banished enough demons to become the youngest high-priest ever next year.

Behind the altar, the moonlight still flows into the church like a quiet consolation. It doesn’t quite paint the altar in the vibrant colors the sun does, but Jeongin still finds comfort in it. No shadow taints it, this time, allowing it to unfurl undisturbed through the tall arches and long hall of the church.

Once more, Jeongin tries to feel for a demonic presence – but he doesn’t find one. His eyes close.

Hyunjin is gone.

The life of a priest is important, but it is also a lonely one. They are not allowed to marry, but Jeongin never wanted a wife anyways. He knew he would never find a woman to love, so becoming a priest allowed him to avoid the questions.

Many priests die in the fight against demons, if they are not quick or strong or smart enough. Too often has Jeongin opened a blue letter, knowing that another one of theirs has fallen.

It happens so quickly, and it can happen to the best of them, if one just isn’t careful.

Which is why Jeongin won’t let go of the sun in his hand, no matter how impossible the chances are that Hyunjin might have survived. Part of him feels broken, though. Tonight, he has lost the most important person in his life. And it’s the second time this happened to him.

He grabs the sun harder as he climbs the steps to the altar on shaky legs, kneels, folds his hands on his chest, and prays again to his God. For forgiveness. For guidance.

So Jeongin will never fall for the schemes of a demon again.

The church remains quiet, the air cold. It is only him and his God. The one who listens, but never answers. Jeongin’s quiet breathing is the only sound that echoes through these empty halls.

Jeongin stays down for a long time. He doesn’t ask for something selfish like a person in his life that will love him. He just asks for the strength to move on. To face the sermon this week without searching the very first row for Hyunjin’s face.

He asks for forgiveness for his stupidity, again and again, because he cannot breathe whenever he thinks about what a fool he was. How blind his feelings have made him for Hyunjin’s true nature.

Only once his racing thoughts have somewhat dulled down, does Jeongin feel strong enough to stand on his feet.

Once he finishes his prayer, Jeongin straightens and pats off his clothes, eyes still on the silent moon he can make out behind the colorful window. The air around him is cold enough to shiver in only his sleeveless top and the thick pants of his uniform.

Maybe it is also the lump in his throat as he thinks about searching for Hyunjin. He has to look, in case Hyunjin actually was human, and is now somewhere unconscious wherever the demon dropped his body off when it was destroyed.

He just cannot bear searching and not finding anything. Wants to bask in the quiet consolation of the church just a moment longer.

The air gets even colder. Jeongin sighs. He should look for his coat. His hair sways gently, almost as if in a breeze, almost as if-

He screams when a hand slams over his mouth, pulled against a firm body behind his own, hard and unforgiving like a stone wall. Someone breathes into his neck with a chuckle. All hairs on Jeongin’s neck stand up. “You impressed me, little priest.”

Quick-witted, Jeongin slams the sun in his palm against the back of the hand covering his mouth. His heart pounds as he presses the metal down, tries with hisses and grunts to twist his body out of the grip.

A lesser demon would burst into flames immediately upon contact with the sun. A higher-ranking would survive, but at least it would make his skin boil, melt through the bones painfully.

Jeongin doesn’t care which one Hyunjin is. He just needs to get his hand off his mouth to chant a spell. The sun in his hand heats rapidly. Jeongin expects screaming, steam and smoke biting his nose, Hyunjin stumbling backwards down the stairs to the altar.

But Hyunjin behind him just sighs quietly. His grip does not lessen in the slightest.

Alarmed, Jeongin thrashes faster.

It’s hard to breathe. Every breath is reflected off Hyunjin’s fingers back into his face, and Jeongin screams in panic as nothing happens. He will die. If he doesn’t find a way to throw Hyunjin off, he will die.

Jeongin presses down harder, keening through his nose as he prays, and prays, begging his God for help and tries to channel more energy into the sun.

Just what is Hyunjin? Why is nothing working? The spell Jeongin used would have vaporized a normal demon three times over, and yet, Hyunjin bears the direct power of Jeongin’s God without even flinching.

Desperate, Jeongin tries to put more energy into it, but his reserves are emptied. There is nothing left inside his body, no power, no divine, golden energy that he could use to burn Hyunjin’s body off him. It presses into his back, hard and ungiving, as Hyunjin pulls his head back against his shoulder.

“Come on, Jeongin-ah”, Hyunjin hums, soft and sly like a snake. His words creep over Jeongin’s skin like a thousand insect legs. “Just let me play with you, hm? It won’t hurt, I promise.”

Eyes widening, Jeongin’s pulse slams upwards. An incubus. Hyunjin is an incubus. The world slows down around him as he freezes. They can look into a mind, and seduce anyone to give in to their most guilty, buried desires. They feed off of tainted pleasure, and take delight in breaking the minds of their victims until they are sullied with frivolous behaviors.

No. No, that cannot happen, Jeongin cannot allow it!

His God would never accept him back.

Desperately, he thrashes his body around, elbows into Hyunjin’s ribs, but the demon just laughs. The sound echoes through the empty church, and Jeongin’s heart sinks when he realizes how truly alone he is. Nobody will come to save him.

He stares up at the moon, and prays, silently, for help, for more power, for anything.

But his God never answers.

And maybe, Jeongin thinks, his God knows what is about to happen. Maybe that’s why he left him. Shame rushes through Jeongin, a cold devastation that sinks into every single bone.

Hyunjin’s smooth, cool hand covers his forehead, the other still on his mouth, pulling his head firmly back against his chest. The touch runs like a waterfall down Jeongin’s spine, trickling, and wet, and uncomfortable, and he nears hyperventilation as he tries to fight the impending invasion of his mind.

He feels Hyunjin pushing. Feels it like a headache without the pain, a pressure that rises inside his brain as images threaten to surface like they are pulled forcefully from the back of his mind. From deep down where Jeongin buries them, tries to ignore them, cries burning tears in the nights when he can’t and begs for forgiveness for his sins in the quiet darkness of his room.

“Sh, Jeongin-ah”, Hyunjin sings into his ear. “Just let me in. Don’t fight it. That’ll only hurt you, my pretty little priest.”

Heat rises throughout Jeongin’s body. For a brief, stupid moment, he thinks it might be the power of his God returning to him. Undiluted raw heat of the sun that can ward of any demon. Mortification settles over him when he realizes it is not. It is the sinful kind of heat that pools in his middle, that has him panting as he struggles to focus. His guts tingle with something he tries so hard to push down.

He speaks against the hand in front of his mouth, begs pathetically for mercy, but no words form.

He has no idea what Hyunjin has already seen. How deep he has managed to invade Jeongin’s mind, how much he knows. But he can feel the presence. Feel somebody else inside his head, with no way to force him out.

“Lift your hand away”, Hyunjin orders calmly. The words echo through Jeongin’s mind, enticing.

Immediately, Jeongin’s hand twitches as if his body reacted to the command. Every muscle inside Jeongin locks into place, fighting harder, pushing Hyunjin out, out, out of his head. He can’t allow this! He can’t lose the sun!

The moon is Jeongin’s focal point. He keeps staring at it as he begs for the light to fill him, to give him the strength to fight. Its light seems to become stronger, fills the room, illuminates the altar in front of him.

Power hums in the air gently. It is not the sun, but Jeongin feels its power fill him regardless. Cool and soothing, as if it was gracing him with soft hands instead of tearing at him with burning force.

The light diffuses the longer Jeongin looks at it. As if it was creeping up around his body, lulling him in, making him drowsy.

It’s too late when Jeongin realizes the moon has betrayed him.

“Lift your hand away, Jeongin.”

Jeongin’s mind is empty. He still fights. He fights purely on a survival instinct, even as the question why he is still fighting echoes unanswered inside his quiet brain.

But his body moves without his consent. The hand that has held the sun lifts from Hyunjin’s, just a single inch before Jeongin can stop it, but it’s enough. Jeongin’s arm shakes as he desperately tries to push it back.

He can’t.

“Good boy”, Hyunjin murmurs with an audible smile in his voice. As if the way Jeongin was bending to his powers was a great feast and Hyunjin starving. “Now hold still for me.”

Suddenly, the hands are gone. The fog in Jeongin’s mind clears. His mouth is free, and his pulse hammers against his ribs.

He can chant something. He needs to fight, he needs to buy himself enough time to flee.

His lips don’t move. Jeongin’s whole body fills with panic when he realizes.

His throat works uselessly around sounds that come out choked, aborted, all of his body trapped in position. Every muscle is locked. Every tendon straining, like ropes of a puppet, like a stone statue. He stands stock-still, one of his own hands hovering just above his mouth, bathed in the moonlight, as Jeongin stares at the window behind the altar.

With calm, echoing steps, Hyunjin vanishes from his back. In his place, cold air licks over Jeongin’s back, forcing goosebumps all over his skin. The altar towers intimidatingly right before Jeongin, as if threatening him not to give in.

The acrid smell of burnt flesh and mud fills Jeongin’s nostrils, as Hyunjin rounds him. He puts himself between Jeongin and the altar, the way a high-priest would stand in front of a lower ranking one.

Black strands of hair glint like silk in the silver night where they fall into his face. They sway softly, even though no breeze graces the room. Hyunjin is beautiful and dangerous alike, with his sharp features, and the smile that shows too many teeth.

The only thing Jeongin can move are his eyes. Even blinking is exhausting, and yet, Jeongin’s gaze jitters around the church trying to find a way to escape.

Colored windows. Soft moonlight. The towering altar. Hyunjin.

Cold white stone surrounds him that used to be his refuge and is now his cage. Jeongin trembles.

“Stretch your hand out to the side”, Hyunjin orders. His gaze has softened into something akin to curiosity, something excited and undisturbed, now that he has the upper hand.

Jeongin struggles against the way his hand, still clinging tightly to the sun, wants to move. His arm shakes, sweat beading all over his body with the exertion, with this unfair fight.

He won’t give in!

Hyunjin just watches him with that exhilarated, detached smile as Jeongin shakes more.

Horrified, Jeongin has to watch himself move. No!

Jeongin grits his teeth harder. Tears bead his eyes. From exhaustion, but most of all despair.

His heart pounds so loud it’s all he can hear, body so tense that he can hardly breathe.

But if he loses the sun, he will be defenseless. Helpless, powerless in the face of a demon.

Hyunjin knows it as well. It shows in the way he almost vibrates with sadistic pleasure as he watches Jeongin struggle for his life. The second he loses the sun it is over for him. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t!

Hyunjin’s voice goes deeper, a little breathless, when he orders, “Good. Now drop it.”

Jeongin fights. Screams internally at his arm to stay locked, at his fingers not to loosen. Grunts push through his nose, helpless attempts to force his body to obey him. His eyes stare at his hand unblinking, repeating Don’t you fucking dare like a mantra, again, again, again.

“Drop it”, Hyunjin repeats.

Jeongin keeps fighting. Muscles aching and stinging, the pain running through his body. But Jeongin is used to pain. He can do this! He has a chance if he can hold out until morning! Until sunrise. Which is-

Which is not until six more hours.

Six.

Tears prick Jeongin’s eyes, lips trembling. He can’t hold out six more hours, he can barely hold out another minute. What should he do? How can he fight back?

He chokes on nothing but air, panic filling every crevice of his body.

Cold, slender fingers curl around his chin, soft and careful, barely even holding it. Hyunjin is right in front of him, the familiar breeze wafting around him and luring Jeongin into a false sense of security. The touch scatters Jeongin’s focus, just for a moment.

Just long enough for Hyunjin to whisper a sweet, targeted, “Drop it, my little priest.”

Jeongin’s fingers open.

Nauseous, Jeongin watches the glint of the golden sun as it falls to the ground. He wants to dive after it, but his body is locked in place. The quiet clatter as it meets the stone echoes absolutely deafening through the church.

On the next blink, Jeongin cries. Hot tears run down his face.

He will die.

The incubus will have its fill, will force him to do unspeakable things.

And then, he will die.

Jeongin sobs as the hopelessness of his situation truly sinks into him.

Even if he wouldn’t die by the hands of this demon, then by those of other priests. He will be tainted. He will not be worthy of the love of his God anymore. He will not even be with Him in death.

Hyunjin’s thumb gently caresses Jeongin’s cheek, too warm and fond for a demon, and Jeongin’s breath quivers with a choked sound. The fingers card through his hair, stroke it out of his face, a touch so loving that Jeongin trembles. “Good boy”, Hyunjin murmurs, “no more of those annoying little chants, hm?”

Every heartbeat feels like a knife driving into Jeongin’s ribs.

Jeongin put all his power into a spell that Hyunjin thinks was annoying. As Jeongin stares at the demon through blurry eyes, he realizes how foolish he has been. Whatever Hyunjin is, it is incomparable to any other demon Jeongin has faced. Anybody else would have died a couple of times over.

But Hyunjin? Jeongin’s prayer might have been an itch under his skin, but he looks absolutely unscathed.

Except for the back of his hand, that now carries the imprint of a sun in red on it, burnt into the skin.

Hyunjin bites his perfect lip, as he lets his eyes rake over Jeongin’s body. Down his naked arms, that feel even more exposed with the attentive gaze on them. Over his heaving chest, down his abdomen.

Lower.

His eyes hang right on Jeongin’s middle, and Jeongin’s face burns.

“Pretty little priest”, Hyunjin hums, gaze firmly on his crotch. Jeongin’s thighs shake, stomach revolting, hot tears running down his cheeks.

“Now come here”, Hyunjin purrs, slowly walking to the side of the altar. By some spell, Jeongin has no choice but to follow him. His feet move on their own, closer to the altar. Now that he has lost the sun, he is helpless. He cannot resist, all his powers gone in the blink of an eye.

It’s utterly horrifying.

The moonlight falls onto the side of Hyunjin’s face as he waits for Jeongin to come closer. His eyes reflect a silver glint, eager, excited, as he pats the cold stone of the altar with a toothy smile.

“That’s it... Get up.”

Eyes widening, Jeongin’s breath catches in his throat, as his body turns on its own.

No.

No, no, no!

Not here. Not like this. He cannot be defiled on the very altar he prays at.

Jeongin goes nauseous with how hard he tries to fight, but his muscles don’t listen to him.

No!

His hands meet the cold stone, as he heaves himself upwards onto the polished altar. He sits with his legs dangling, staring into the church towards the destroyed hall and the wooden door that would lead outside, so very far away. Forgotten on the ground, Jeongin sees his golden sun, mourns it, wants to reach for it. But his body won’t listen.

It’s just a small trinket now lying in the dirt, unable to lend Jeongin its power.

Hyunjin’s hand lands on his thigh, too heavy, too warm through the thick fabric of his pants. His expression is triumphant, a wicked pleasure pulling his smile wider.

“There we go. Lie down, Jeongin-ah. It’s time you get worshipped the way you were made to be.”

Worshipped. Filthy pictures run through Jeongin’s hand of whatever that might mean.

His stomach crunches with shame, as he stares into the hall, feels the stone of the altar under his fingers. A sacred place, one that should never be defiled.

The mere words make heat thrum above Jeongin’s cheekbones, blasphemy repeating a chorus inside his head. He doesn’t want this! He doesn’t want to disrespect his God like this!

And yet, terribly, his body obeys. Beds his head on the cold stone, that strangely warms under him, settles his shoulders and his legs on the smooth surface like an agreeable toy. Until he lies on his back on the altar stretched to his full length.

Not tied down, and yet immobile. Trapped in his own body.

Above him, the ceiling domes. Paintings of the sun and the stars around it stretch towards the walls in large arches. They always looked beautiful to Jeongin. Comforting, protecting. Now they look down on him as if they were watching and judging him. Because he wasn’t strong enough to defeat the demon.

Because he would do something as outrageous as lie down on the altar. Because he will be ruined right here in the most sacred place.

Soft fingers close around his wrist, and Jeongin sobs silently into the cold night air, when his tense hand is guided towards one of the shackles on the side. The golden metal clicks shut quietly, and Jeongin’s muscles tense with a last try to escape.

His body doesn’t move.

Hyunjin hums a soft melody to himself as he rounds Jeongin on the altar, cuffing down his trembling ankles, and lastly, his other wrist. Then, the demon takes a step back, deeper into the moonlight that falls through the window behind the altar. As if to admire his work.

Jeongin lies still as a statue on the stone surface, tied down like an offering.

Chapter Text

Heart pounding, Jeongin stares at the ceiling. Hyunjin looks at him for a moment longer, and the moonlight makes his black hair shimmer like liquid tar.

“Beautiful”, he whispers, and a single tear runs down Jeongin’s temple and into his hair.

His eyes close. He hears clothes shift, as Hyunjin moves back to his side, feels the touch of fingertips on his chest. They tingle against his shirt, almost as if they were sizzling with energy. Jeongin can’t breathe. “You can move.”

With a gulp of air, Jeongin’s released body lifts right into his hand, before it twists, tugging and struggling against the binds with frustrated yells and defeated cries. “No! Let me go! Let me-! Fuck! Let me go-o!”

Jeongin’s voice breaks, when he realizes how tight the restraints are. How sturdy the metal bites into his sensitive skin, how much it burns to struggle. The solid stone is uncomfortable to lie on, and Jeongin’s throat threads too tight, stomach heaving.

“Please”, he croaks with his last breath.

His cheeks burn with the shame of begging a demon. All of his body feels stripped bare, a meal on a platter for him to consume. An admission of his own powerlessness, a desperate cry for help, trying to avoid what simply cannot happen.

Gently, Hyunjin’s fingers glide over Jeongin’s forehead. They push aside sweaty strands of hair, and Jeongin whimpers at the mockingly caring touch. “Are you scared?”, Hyunjin asks softly, fingers resting on his forehead.

Jeongin feels the pressure inside his mind again, the push against it.

No, no, no!

Trembling, Jeongin grits his teeth, tries to resist, tries to keep him out-

When he looks up at Hyunjin, he already knows it’s too late.

Hyunjin’s lips split into something slow and sinister, as his eyes glow silver. “Scared I’ll find out how much of a slut you are?”

Paling, Jeongin stares at him. All blood drains from his face at the word. Pure dread overfills his stomach, as Jeongin’s lips tremble.

What did he see? Just what did he see?

Another hand presses against Jeongin’s stomach, too hot through the thin fabric of his top, and impossible to ignore. The touch of a hand so close to his sensitive middle. Blood rushes through Jeongin’s body in cruel anticipation. His heart pounds so impossibly fast as he watches Hyunjin’s pupils dilate.

Slowly, Hyunjin lets his hand wander lower, eyes eating up Jeongin’s reactions. The cuffs clink on Jeongin’s wrists as he desperately tries to push Hyunjin off, but the golden shackles won’t allow him to move more than an inch.

“What’s it like?”, Hyunjin crouches down to whisper into his ear, wickedly seductive. His breath is warm and damp against Jeongin’s sweaty neck. “Being tied down. You imagined it so many times. I bet you like it.”

The shame makes Jeongin nauseous. Hyunjin is devastatingly right. He has spent countless nights wondering what it would be like to be tied down by a lover, unable to move, rendered immobile and helpless.

Every tug of his hands on the cuffs sends another wave of heat through him, unwanted, humiliating, and yet so strong when they don’t come lose. They scrape loudly over stone, the sound ringing through the cold empty air of the church hall like millwheels grinding against each other.

“Stop this!”, Jeongin demands. “Let me go. Please! Why me? Why… why couldn’t you…”

More tears well up in his eyes and he bites his lip.

Playful, Hyunjin’s hand reaches the hem of his shirt. His fingers gently slip beneath, splay out over Jeongin’s muscular lower abdomen that shakes at the touch. A strand of Hyunjin’s hair sways gently in a breeze that shouldn’t exist as he looks down at Jeongin.

“I heard a lot about you, Jeongin-ah. Had to see you for myself, of course.” He licks his lip, glinting in the moonlight, and Jeongin unbiddenly thinks about that soft wet mouth closing around his cock. A shudder runs through him. “And once I did I was… intrigued.”

Hyunjin’s hand wanders over Jeongin’s belly button, and Jeongin’s breathing quickens into panicked panting. All of him tries to squirm away as Hyunjin pushes the shirt up, but there is nowhere to go. Within moments, his abs lie exposed to the cold air around them, shirt bulked up, and Jeongin closes his eyes.

“Mh, so pretty”, Hyunjin hums, eyes gliding over the bare skin that glistens in the moonlight like the damp surface of an ice-cold glass of wine. Even just Hyunjin’s gaze on Jeongin’s body feels like too much, like a smooth caress over his sensitive stomach, a feather tickling down his naked tummy, making Jeongin’s abs quiver.

“I’ll have so much fun with you, Jeongin-ah”, he says, and Jeongin whimpers. Looks away. Towards the heavy doors of the church that lock both of them in here, until one of them dies.

Or until Hyunjin has broken him so thoroughly that Jeongin might just let him out.

The demon’s voice is inescapable. “Let’s get you naked. As God created you, isn’t it?” His laughter rings through the room like the bells in the tower while Jeongin’s head feels so filled with heat it could explode.

Jeongin gasps for air when a cool sensation spreads on his chest, where Hyunjin’s fingers lie. Almost something wet, moving and waving around his body as it gets colder. Alarmed, he lifts his head to look.

Hyunjin’s fingertips glow silver from deep within, and Jeongin’s shirt, that had been bunched up around his chest, starts to glow in the same color. Like something was slowly soaking it, liquid moonlight, over and over before his shirt just… dissolves. Disappears into the dusty air of the church. Leaves him absolutely naked beneath.

“No!”, Jeongin cries, tries to squirm away, to interrupt the contact between his skin and the tips of Hyunjin’s fingers. The unforgiving stone underneath him bites into his back, elbows slamming against it. Jeongin shifts as far as he can, but it doesn’t make a difference. “Stop! Stop that! You c-can’t-! Hngh!”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”, Hyunjin asks with a seductive smile, eyes half-lidded as Jeongin’s clothes disappear thread by thread. He’s devastatingly beautiful in the darkness of the church. His eyes glow in the same silver as the moon that shines inside, black hair shimmering as it sways around his sharp face. “To be helpless, and naked. To have your body offered to me on a silver platter. To be played with in the most unspeakable ways?”

Vehemently, Jeongin shakes his head, trying to sort out his thoughts. They run wild inside his head, twisting and turning, because… because he’s not sure.

After all, his predicament feels so familiar. From late nights where only the moonlight fell into his scarce chamber. Where he lay awake with a pounding heart and rushing heat in his body, hand trembling as he tried to stop himself from reaching down towards his middle. But the tingling down his spine felt impossible to ignore.

And then, he closed his eyes and thought about this: The image of somebody else doing it. Of somebody tying him down so he’s incapable of moving. Of fighting. That somebody else would manipulate his body until his muscles had no choice but to convulse with pleasure.

Pathetic moans were muffled into his old blanket as he touched himself where he shouldn’t, all while silently begging his God for forgiveness as he let the pleasure wash through his body.

Having his vision become true is even more shameful. Hyunjin is slower than the ghost hands in Jeongin’s imagination. He doesn’t force him through the arousal in a hot, heated frenzy until Jeongin has no choice but to spill all over himself.

Instead, Hyunjin teases. Strokes over the exposed skin until Jeongin’s cock has hardened disgustingly inside his tight pants, time trickling like molasses.

It drives Jeongin insane. So many feelings war inside of him, the cold shame with the hot, wanton need for more, and he cannot breathe through the storm they create.

The demon licks his lips as if he was savoring every second of making Jeongin bathe in the humiliation. Dark knowing eyes burn into his, and Jeongin hiccups softly.

“Please”, he sobs, and it only deepens the hunger on Hyunjin’s face.

Then, the demon’s eyes glide lower. Over Jeongin’s abdomen that has barely any traces of clothing left. Jeongin feels the weird, liquid sensation spread down his legs and he hiccups as he shifts his hips.

“No, please, no-”

Tries to close his legs, thighs tensing as he strains against the metal shackles. They rasp against his ankles, tight and unforgiving.

As his pants dissolve as well, the phantom sensation of something cool right atop his cock makes Jeongin gasp. It almost feels like a tongue licking over him, so wet and good it makes him moan sinfully as he writhes.

Jeongin shivers, his breath fogging up in the cold air front of his face as he stares up at the ceiling of the church in a try to escape what is happening. He stares at the sun above, and wishes himself somewhere far away, somewhere untouchable.

His voice trembles, when he speaks quietly. Not in the language of the Gods, this time. In the language of a human prayer. Small and vulnerable. And Jeongin hopes, despite better knowledge, that his God will forgive him.

“Oh Father, h-help me. In your endless grace, allow m-me a fracture of your guidance. Take all-” His voice is tight and broken with sobs he suppresses. The shame mutes every word. 

Hyunjin next to him pauses, head cocked as his hand splays over Jeongin’s stomach. Warm, alive, making Jeongin tremble. Jeongin is entirely naked now. There’s nowhere left to hide, and Hyunjin makes sure he doesn’t forget it.

“You are still praying to him?”, Hyunjin purrs with dark eyes gliding down Jeongin’s body. His eyes glint with something mean and teasing. “Oh? Do you want him to see you like this? Naked, and aroused, all for a demon? Quivering with want?”

His hand stops right above Jeongin’s middle. Right in front of the tip of his hard cock. Jeongin presses his lips together in a try to suppress his sob, before he squeezes his eyes shut.

His prayer interrupted.

His hard cock leaks against his stomach, twitching as if it was trying to reach out for the warm hand on his stomach, while Jeongin fights off the nausea swirling through him.

Feet click over the empty stone floor as Hyunjin rounds him, hand casually gliding down towards his hip, just so missing where Jeongin wants him to touch so badly. Jeongin stifles a pleading whimper, eyes blinking open with something almost bashful, as Hyunjin continues walking around the altar.

“You’re a virgin, right, Jeongin?”, Hyunjin asks nonchalantly, with his hand placed on Jeongin’s thigh now, grabbing and squeezing the flesh. His thumb digs in, stinging, possessive. It’s so warm. Jeongin’s blood rushes faster.

Hyunjin chuckles at the sounds it forces out of Jeongin, who refuses to answer, heart hammering in his chest.

Desperately, he searches Hyunjin’s face for any indication of what will happen. Just how much did Hyunjin see? Of his fantasies, of his… his preferences?

Does he already know how impure Jeongin is?

Hyunjin’s slender fingers skim over his foot, before they tease the ticklish underside of Jeongin’s toes. It forces a startled sound out of Jeongin, too close to a moan, as he tries to tug away. Chuckling, Hyunjin continues stroking up and down his sole. Jeongin squirms with aborted little cries, the tickles going straight to his brain.

Somehow, that’s the worst part of it all. To be unable to escape something as simple as this.

Hyunjin slowly lets his finger glide up and down Jeongin’s foot, and it shouldn’t, but it makes the arousal inside Jeongin’s body swell until it’s piercing his brain.

It swirls through his body with every caress like a high whistle, until Jeongin can’t help but push into the touch instead of away. He can’t breathe. Gasps for air. His cock throbs against his stomach, begging for touch.

Suddenly, Hyunjin’s hands land on both of his shins, engulfing them in warmth that sends another shock through Jeongin’s body as they quickly glide upwards. The demon’s teeth glint in the moonlight. “The perfect sacrifice, aren’t you?”

Jeongin’s breath hitches in panic. He knows that demons would be foolish to keep a priest alive. But for some reason, Jeongin truly thought Hyunjin would be different. Would take his fill as an incubus, and let Jeongin go.

Maybe because Jeongin held on to the naïve thought that Hyunjin cared about their time together at all. He sobs. “You’ll ki-ill me?”

He starts struggling in earnest, but all it does is scuff his wrists and ankles as he twists and turns against metal biting him as tight as the mouth of a predator.

Hyunjin has reached his other side, letting one of his hands run up his other thigh as he hums. His hair sways with every step, air wafting around him gently. “Not at all, Jeongin-ah. What I will sacrifice is your oh-so-treasured innocence.”

His dark eyes turn into slits as his teeth bare with amusement. “What’s left of it, anyways.”

With that, his hand finally runs over Jeongin’s cock. The sensation is too sharp too sudden, and Jeongin seizes with a barely held back yell, hips rutting into the touch without thinking. Pleasure fills his guts, along the need for more, more, more, for Hyunjin to grab him harder, stroke him up and down.

The humiliation that floods his bloodstream a moment later hits hard enough to drive more tears into Jeongin’s eyes.

As quickly as the sensation came, it is gone again, and Jeongin has to bite his lip to stifle his pathetic sounds. Hyunjin’s hand strokes further upwards, towards Jeongin’s chest. His nipples have hardened in the cold, drawn tight.

Hyunjin tuts. “Look at you. You’re inviting me to touch you, hm?”

Jeongin’s head runs hot. He shakes it vehemently, but there is nothing he can do but watch as Hyunjin’s hand glides towards a nipple and gently rubs over the sensitive little bud. Breath quivering, Jeongin tries not to let it get to him. The arousal is less intense here, but it simmers beneath the surface like rippling water just longing to turn into a wave.

After only a moment, the hand disappears and so does Hyunjin, only the sound of his shoes echoing through the empty halls. It leaves Jeongin off kilter. Whimpering, his eyes flit around like those of a rabbit.

He can feel Hyunjin somewhere behind his head now. His gaze prickles in Jeongin’s neck, all of Jeongin's body instinctually aware it is watched by a predator. His insides yell at him to run. But there’s nowhere for him to escape to.

“Do you want to know a secret, Jeongin-ah?”, Hyunjin asks, suddenly too close to his ear. Jeongin flinches. Warm breath tickles at the hairs of Jeongin’s neck, and he whimpers quietly as he tenses.

Fingers creep up beside his face, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from them, even when they don’t touch. They crawl past his face like the legs of spiders. “You’re one of the strongest exorcists I ever met.”

Gulping, Jeongin tries to keep calm. Tries to act like he truly is strong, and isn’t scared out of his mind because that means Hyunjin has encountered others like him. Has killed them, probably. He shakes all over.

Behind him, Hyunjin takes a deep breath, as if to savor the scent of Jeongin’s fear. “I’ve been watching you for months. Watched you fight, watched you bear all that pain. And yet, I was not prepared for how strong you’d be when you actually attacked me.”

Nails scrape along Jeongin’s neck. He whimpers through another shudder, that pushes him right into the nails of the other hand, so he does his hardest to lie still as his pulse hammers inside his throat. His wide eyes run over the blurry ceiling, focus on the sun, the sun, the sun.

“If I wasn’t what I am, that could have truly hurt”, Hyunjin sighs, almost proud. “So seeing you this strong, this powerful… only to be rendered absolutely helpless in my hands…”

The nails touch the sensitive skin by Jeongin’s larynx, making goosebumps erupt all over Jeongin’s naked body. “So exposed. So vulnerable. So easily manipulated into reacting however I want you to.”

Hyunjin’s breath shakes, and the next exhale sounds breathless. “It really turns me on, Jeongin-ah.”

Eyes shutting, Jeongin bites his lip to stifle a whimper and calm the storm raging inside his belly.

Hyunjin’s voice is soft, slithers around Jeongin’s head like a snake as it vibrates with excitement. “I can just touch you. Wherever I want to. And there is nothing you can do to stop me. Isn’t that so hot?”

Hands glide over Jeongin’s chest. He yells through his nose, a pathetic noise at the sudden warmth of touch on his cool skin. The way Hyunjin’s palms run gently over his perked up nipples shoots sparks through his brain and down to his middle. 

Giggling, Hyunjin uses his fingers to pinch the nubs, rubs and rolls them between his fingertips. Jeongin struggles with aborted little sounds, but there is nowhere to go. Hyunjin just keeps rubbing. Keeps playing with his sensitive nipples, twisting and turning them, shooting spark after spark through him until Jeongin turns into a quivering mess. It's too much, too intense.

Hyunjin chuckles quietly. “Good. That’s right, you love it so much.”

Jeongin shakes his head no, tries to think about something, anything other than the hands playing with his nipples and the way his cock twitches at every sharp pinch, at every soft pull. Arousal swarms his body all over, begging for touch.

The worst part is that Hyunjin knows. That he can see into Jeongin’s mind, that he knows he’s so aroused despite hating it.

Jeongin’s cock is achingly hard, dripping warm precum onto his stomach. It feels so filthy that Jeongin can barely breathe. The air inside the church starts to feel charged, hotter than before, and still so cold that Hyunjin’s hands are incredibly warm in comparison.

And they do such a good job of playing with his body. Rile him up until he’s squirming with need, heart clenching guiltily. His cock throbs against his stomach, begging Jeongin for a touch, for something, anything, to make the pleasure that coils inside of him rise and collapse.

The sounds Jeongin makes echo through the whole building, devastating as they reach his ears again, moans, whimpers, pants.

And in between the melody of his own noises, Hyunjin’s voice cuts through like a harmony. “So good, baby. Your body reacts so perfectly for its purpose. Let’s make sure you’re ready, hm?”

Jeongin wants to ask Ready for what?, but his throat is tied up with the hot shame flowing through his veins. He hiccups when Hyunjin plants the softest kiss onto the crown of his damp hair, before the demon suddenly walks to his side.

The loss of the warm hands comes a bit too sudden. It makes the cold of the night lick at him all over, leaving Jeongin riled up and needy.

Eyes flickering over to the demon, Jeongin watches the way Hyunjin’s clothes sway, as he puts a hand onto the altar. Right next to Jeongin’s waist. Jeongin freezes.

When Hyunjin catches him staring, he smiles knowingly. Jeongin’s heartbeat thunders through him.

And stops for a moment when Hyunjin suddenly pushes himself up onto the altar.

His body rises into the air with an effortless grace, as if it was truly only made of shadows that block the moonlight falling through the window. His weight, however, is definitely solid when Hyunjin’s legs straddle Jeongin’s middle, hovering on all fours just above his cock. Warmth radiates off him everywhere, sending goosebumps over Jeongin’s naked skin.

He’s so close that if Jeongin would just lift his hips a little, his naked cock would brush against the soft, dark clothes Hyunjin wears, and Jeongin lets out a shivering breath when his dick twitches at the touch.

As if it wanted to reach out.

The way Hyunjin stares down on him makes his mouth run dry. Dark, cat-like eyes, that hold an undeniable sparkle, as if Hyunjin was looking at the most marvelous thing he’s ever seen. He’s looked at him like that more often than Jeongin could count, and it always sent a rush of heat down his body.

Jeongin has never been exposed enough for Hyunjin to see that, though. To see the rosy red that spreads down his chest, as more blood rushes to the middle, merely from the way Hyunjin stares at him.

“My beautiful little priest”, Hyunjin says with a knowing smile. Jeongin shudders.

He blinks away the blur in his eyes and looks into the beautiful face of the man he adored the past year. “Hyu… Hyunjin”, he sobs, ears rushing. “P-lease! Please let me go!”

His heart pounds so heavily Jeongin feels like it is going to shatter his ribcage. Hoping that this is all just an illusion. That Hyunjin will smile at him like he used to, release the shackles with a gentle murmur, and that Jeongin can spend the rest of his life repenting for the sins he has already committed.

The softest hand comes up to cup his face. A tickling touch that thumbs over his cheek with the care of a lover. Hyunjin hums, the smile on his face almost cooing. “I would, baby”, he says. Hope flares up in Jeongin’s heart.

Hyunjin’s lids lower with his voice. “But that’s not what you want, is it?”

Teeth clicking together, Jeongin closes his eyes. It is. He wants to leave, he doesn’t want Hyunjin to continue.

But then Hyunjin’s other hand trails down his stomach, closer to his throbbing cock, and all protest gets stuck in his tied-up throat.

He feels every inch of skin that Hyunjin’s fingers glide over, tingling with the touch, aching for more. It’s so sinful and yet Jeongin cannot get enough, and he hates it, he hates himself, he feels so nauseous with it.

Hiccupping softly, he blinks away more tears, too overwhelmed with the sudden heat that thrums all over his body at the way Hyunjin strokes around his abs. Every vein warms with it, and Hyunjin’s eyes find Jeongin’s once more.

Jeongin’s voice is almost inaudible. “Please.”

The wicked smile on Hyunjin’s face falters for a moment, before it suddenly turns soft. Soft enough to remind Jeongin of all the times Hyunjin spent after lectures waiting up for him, so they could go home together. Of how much Hyunjin pretended to care for him, when really… he just couldn’t get out of the church without Jeongin. That was it, right?

Tears fill Jeongin’s eyes.

Hyunjin never truly cared for him.

A demon could never.

Hyunjin shakes his head, frowning slightly. “Oh, Jeongin. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re undeniably aware of how I feel for you when I’m done.”

Breath hitching, something awfully cold tugs on Jeongin’s stomach when he realizes that Hyunjin is still touching his cheek with one hand, his fingers on Jeongin’s temple.

He’s reading Jeongin’s thoughts.

Whimpering, Jeongin averts his gaze. This is worse than being naked. Having every thought, every dumb, stupid moment that Jeongin has been fooled by Hyunjin played out in images with no way to hide.

Laying it all bare for the demon to see. For him to enjoy. The total and utter triumph, how much his little charade has truly convinced Jeongin.

Even now that he’s stripped of all his clothes, about to be defiled under the eyes of his God, Jeongin tried to hold on to the one thing he had left: His pride.

And now that is destroyed as well.

Jeongin chokes on his own breath. It hurts. Everything hurts, and he’s going insane from the pain.

He wants to scream, but that would just make him feel even worse, even more pathetic. His insides feel like they are breaking apart.

Tears stream down his cheeks, burning hot.

Jeongin tugs on the chains that bite into his skin. Again and again, fruitlessly.

“Jeongin”, Hyunjin whispers, and this time, Jeongin does scream from the pain the mere taste of his name on Hyunjin’s tongue causes. It comes out raw and breaking, voice gone after just a moment, and now his throat hurts, too.

Through the blur of nausea and emotion, Jeongin can hardly see anything. Only Hyunjin’s eyes above him, that run over his face. Endlessly dark, but with that spark inside of them that always made Jeongin think of starlight captured against the endless night sky.

He hears a small sigh, as the hand on his cheek tightens. And then, there are lips on his. Hyunjin’s lips. Plush, and warm, and too perfect for a filthy being like him.

Jeongin’s heart sets out for a beat. The world pauses, as Hyunjin kisses him, something Jeongin unbiddenly imagined over a thousand times.

Everything is quiet, not even the sound of his own heartbeat disturbing Jeongin as for a moment, the world falls into place. His inside feels weightless, the stone altar beneath him suddenly vanished, just floating in space.

His heart starts hammering. Hyunjin’s hand slides down into his neck. He pulls Jeongin closer, strong, determined, possessive, as he twists his head for a better angle and opens his lips against Jeongin’s.

Not a single thought remains inside Jeongin’s brain. Maybe the shock has overcome him completely. Or maybe, there is just nothing he can do, and his body has finally accepted it. Nothing but reciprocate the kiss, open his mouth on a faltered breath that mingles with Hyunjin's. The air between them is warm, and they share it again, and again, and again, all while Jeongin’s heart slams against his ribcage as if chanting how right this feels.

Hyunjin tastes of fresh wine and comfort, dangerous and so addicting that a moan drags up Jeongin’s throat. He can feel Hyunjin smile against his mouth at the sound, and all of him runs hot. His head, his chest, his toes, everything warms as if Hyunjin filled him from the inside out with nothing but his breath.

When they part, Jeongin stares at nothing for a long moment. His brain is slow to catch up, and Jeongin tries to stall his thoughts as much as he can. He doesn’t want to think about what just happened. He doesn’t want to embrace the shame that inevitably will come with it.

Hyunjin doesn’t grant him the mercy. “There. Did that feel like a sin to you, Jeongin?”

Where before, every breath has been warm, now only the icy air of the church fills Jeongin’s lungs. Cold and rotten like Jeongin’s soul, as if a foulness had crept into the room. Jeongin’s eyes look at Hyunjin, unfocused, as if they were trying to look through him and at the sun painted above Hyunjin’s back instead.

“You sullied me”, he whispers.

The knowledge is so shocking that Jeongin’s body doesn’t even react to it for a moment. There’s no hot spark of shame, or revolting stomach. Everything just grows numb. A nauseous dizziness fogs up Jeongin’s brain as his lips move on their own with the only truth he knows.

“You sullied me and now he’ll never take me back.”

The darkness around him feels empty. He lets out a breath, defeated. Tears run from his eyes, but he hardly feels them through the numbness. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Please… please, just let me go.”

Before this, he could have pretended he didn’t want this. That anything Hyunjin was doing to him was not his fault. He is not sure it would have made a difference in his God’s eyes. This kiss, however, was different.

Even if Hyunjin couldn’t read his thoughts, there was no way to pretend he didn’t kiss him back like a starving man finally eating.

Hyunjin tuts, entirely unnerved. His pretty eyes roll in the moonlight. “Your God is stupid.”

The chains clink loudly as Jeongin yanks on them with all his power. “How dare you!”

To his surprise, Hyunjin throws his head back, and breaks into a maniac laughter. The sound of it makes a chill run down Jeongin’s spine, vibrating all around them in the empty space of the church hall.

“How dare I?”, he asks, that wicked smile back on his face. “Then tell me, Jeongin, why is it a sin? When it felt so good to kiss me, why does it make your precious God hate you?”

The words drive like a dagger through Jeongin’s heart. Every single one of them. The last part echoes inside his brain relentlessly.

Your God hates you. Your God hates you. Your God hates you.

He’s not sure if Hyunjin truly wants an answer. He keeps staring at Jeongin as if he did. So Jeongin swallows the quiver in his voice, tries to breathe through the tears that bite at his eyes. “Because I am a man. And He has created me to love a woman.”

For some reason, that makes Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrow with a scowl. The room darkens slightly, as if the mere power of Hyunjin’s fury was filling it, pressing the light down.

As quickly as it comes, Hyunjin’s expression flattens again, this time into something more neutral. Assessing. His clothes rustle as he shifts, lips glistening in the moonlight. “Then can you explain to me why your God created you in a way that makes you desire a man?”

Closing his eyes, Jeongin tries to block out the words. As if that could make them any less true. As if he hadn’t known from the moment he met one-year-older Kim Seungmin at the academy that something was entirely wrong with him.

Nausea forces itself up Jeongin’s throat.

He feels utterly disgusted with himself. It cannot be a mistake of his God. He doesn’t make mistakes.

So it has to be a test. And Jeongin failed it time, and time, and time again. Up until now, his God forgave him. Every sinful thought, every longing for touch when he saw Seungmin, and later, Hyunjin, had been forgiven. His God still gave him His powers, allowed him to fight in His name.

Jeongin can’t ask for forgiveness now. Not anymore. Not when his lips still tingle warmly where Hyunjin has kissed him, not when all Jeongin wants deep inside is more of that feeling. When he’d take whatever Hyunjin is ready to give.

“You are mine, little priest”, Hyunjin whispers as if to confirm it. His tone holds something dangerous. A growl that makes the words sound like a threat instead of a statement. “You will come to realize that, once I’m done with you.”

Jeongin’s breath fogs up between them as he shivers with fear and arousal. It helps a bit to not be able to see Hyunjin when he sounds this possessive. But not much. The heat accumulates inside him regardless, the thought of being devoted to someone else but his God entirely disgusting – and yet so intriguing, when that someone is Hyunjin.

He doesn’t get more time to think about that. Hyunjin above him shifts lower, down his naked body, until he straddles Jeongin’s thighs.

The softest, plushest lips meet Jeongin’s chest, a flurry of heat against his cold skin. Jeongin shakes in his restraints, unable to say anything, unable to pretend it doesn’t feel good any longer.

Lips suck gently on his nipple, and Jeongin moans when Hyunjin’s tongue flicks over it. All the while, Hyunjin’s hands never leave Jeongin’s body. They stroke up and down his sides, over his ribs, down his ticklish waist, and to his hipbones.

Jeongin’s cock aches for touch. It tingles and wants, wants so bad.

But Hyunjin denies him, and Jeongin cannot beg for this.

Quivering gasps sound through the church, the moonlight too quiet and calm for how pent-up Jeongin feels.

His eyes fall to Hyunjin’s head that moves lower on his body, until Hyunjin kneels between Jeongin’s open legs. And finally rightens his gaze upwards. All of Jeongin’s body is heated, heart thrumming in a quick unstable rhythm. The night air feels even colder now.

“Look at you”, Hyunjin coos with dark, glowing eyes and the softest smile. His fingertips trace around Jeongin’s collar. “That pretty blush. The blood that rushes through your body.”

He cocks his head, and his smile widens as his fingers glide downwards. A soft, teasing hint of a touch, like a feather grazing over a cheek. “You denied yourself touch for so long. Tell me, does it feel as good as you imagined it?”

Hyunjin’s hands reach Jeongin’s thighs. They close in on his middle. Closer towards his cock. Closer towards where Jeongin wants him so bad, and where Hyunjin absolutely cannot touch.

Tensing, Jeongin shakes his head. Slow, then faster. Adrenaline pounds through his veins, fingertips tingling with panic. “Stop!”

Hyunjin’s hands hesitate. They rest right where Jeongin’s thighs meet his pelvis, so devastatingly close to Jeongin’s cock that twitches and leaks onto his stomach in the most humiliating picture.

Hyunjin licks his lips like a predator blood off its teeth. His gaze never leaves Jeongin’s, boring into him, as if he could see all the way into his soul.

Heat shoots into Jeongin when he remembers Hyunjin can. Has read his mind. Has seen every vile, unspeakable thing Jeongin has ever wanted.

“You say that”, he whispers, the words echoing around Jeongin like a breeze in the quiet church. “And yet your eyes beg me to continue. Big, and round, and so scared of your own pleasure. I could look at you a lifetime just with that expression on your face.”

Jeongin cannot breathe. He tries to, but he doesn’t really feel the cold, stale air fill his lungs. Everything is too much.

Hyunjin chuckles. “Sweet thing.” His hands stroke down Jeongin’s thighs in what could be a soothing gesture, if Jeongin was not shackled to the altar. “I am not even doing anything to you and you’re already so ruined.”

Embarrassment and arousal pulse through Jeongin’s bloodstream like the rhythm of one of his prayers. It doesn’t make sense and he feels nauseous at the same time. Quiet tears run down his temples and into his hair.

“So, my little priest. What exactly have you thought of? What did you dream of most? Me touching you here?”

Jeongin cries out when a mean nail flicks against his cock. The traitorous thing throbs even harder after, hips lifting, and Jeongin drops his head back onto the stone with a dull thud, chest heaving. “No!”

“No?” Hyunjin sounds way too amused at his reaction. “Then maybe there is something different you wanted… something you desired even more… something, that you hid away even further down.”

Panic grips Jeongin with long, bony fingers.

What-

Hyunjin’s hands move slowly. They glide over Jeongin’s skin, smooth, soft, inhumanly so. Like the skin of a snake, that weaves around him before it will tighten its grip and smother him.

Goosebumps explode all over Jeongin when they rest on his inner thighs. Where the skin is thin and vulnerable, blood pumping right beneath the surface, just a few inches from Jeongin’s most sensitive parts. Right by his bum.

Without his doing, pictures flood Jeongin’s mind. Of fantasies he never wanted to admit he had. Of hands spreading his legs, like only a woman’s should, of somebody moving with him, in time with him, deep inside of him.

Bodies bound together.

Hyunjin’s face appears in his head. Eyes drawn shut with exertion, sweat running down his temples on a hot summer night where it is just the two of them. Somewhere far, far away, deep in the night, where nobody could ever see them, joint together.

Hyunjin’s hands holding up his thighs, as he moves into Jeongin again, and again, and again. How gentle he would be, then rough if Jeongin dared to grind against him too quickly. The sounds he would make echo through Jeongin’s head as if he could truly hear them.

For a moment, he is caught up in the fantasy, swims in the dreamy overwhelming arousal.

The next breath feels like breaking surface. He comes up back into reality, the memory of his late-night thoughts so vivid, the sensations of something inside him so real that he can still feel them linger so very deep in his stomach.

Searching Hyunjin’s face, something cold runs down Jeongin’s spin. This Hyunjin looks nothing like in his fantasy – instead of kind and gentle, he smiles teasingly, his black clothes wallowing around him to truly frame him like the demon he is.

And yet, Jeongin thinks, they look so astoundingly similar.

Especially the plush red lips, parted with pleasured sounds, now speaking to him in the most seductive voice. “You wanted me for so long, Jeongin-ah. Let me make your dreams come true.”

Jeongin closes his eyes.

Fragrance fills the air. Of fresh lavender, struck by a breeze and releasing its scent into the air everywhere around them. Jeongin has no idea where it’s coming from, only knows that Hyunjin’s eyes are closed in deep focus when he blinks at him.

When Hyunjin’s right hand moves from Jeongin’s thigh, it leaves behind a wet smear, cold against Jeongin’s heated skin. Jeongin cannot see the movement, but nauseatingly, he knows exactly where Hyunjin is going to touch next.

He jolts violently when the hand touches his ass cheeks, one finger pressing softly into the rift between them.

“No… please, no, no…” Jeongin whimpers breathlessly, heart hammering inside his throat. All of his body strains against the bonds. He goes lightheaded from the mere anticipation. His mind is in a frenzy, tries to figure out how to escape and yet wondering at the same time what it will feel like.

To have something inside of him.

It was a boundary he never crossed. Couldn’t cross. He was too ashamed. The shame ties up his throat now as well, but this time, he is not in control. He is tied down to an altar, nothing but a doll for the wicked, beautiful demon in front of him to do as he pleases.

And Hyunjin is gentle. Way gentler than the heated grin on his face would make Jeongin assume. It doesn’t take away from the surge of humiliation that floods his body when Hyunjin’s fingertip finally presses against his furled rim.

Jeongin struggles, shakes, the clank of metal echoing through the church alongside his gasps and pleas. Hyunjin just watches him. Sits above him like a hawk and drinks up every single second of it, eyes glowing.

“You look so good writhing around like that, fuck.” Hyunjin’s grin becomes even more hungry as if he was already salivating. Enjoys Jeongin’s predicament so much. “Keep moving like this, Jeongin-ah, so pretty when you’re all fucked out.”

There’s no way to breathe through the heat in the air. The way Hyunjin watches him makes Jeongin’s skin prickle, the praise, always paired with the humiliation wipes every thought from his head.

There’s only this, only the sensation of something pressing against his entrance. Wet and soft, sending sparks through Jeongin’s body as his thighs tense in anticipation. There is nowhere to run.

This finger is going inside of him. Inevitably.

The mere thought makes Jeongin want to vibrate out of his skin. Everything tingles. The hungry eyes trained onto him, the fact that it is Hyunjin enjoying his reactions, Hyunjin who is aroused by him, turns the steady heat inside Jeongin’s body into a blaze.

“I bet you’ll be so tight”, Hyunjin whispers reverently. The words swirl around Jeongin like a breeze, and he clenches unconsciously around nothing. Relaxes and it almost feels like he opens up for the wet finger rubbing against him.

And then, there are two. Another fingertip, squeezed between his cheeks beside the other one. Jeongin stills. His breath shakes. His voice is only a ghost of a sound, vanished almost into disbelief. “No.”

Once more, Hyunjin’s eyes soften into something so wickedly gentle that it almost has Jeongin fooled. “I promise I’ll make it feel so good, Jeongin-ah. You’ll love it so much that you’ll be begging to have something inside you again, and again, and again.”

He leans forward, until his body hovers over Jeongin’s, palm planted so close to Jeongin’s waist that he feels the heat radiating from it. Hyunjin’s hair falls towards him like the tears of an angel, and once more, his beautiful, devastating face is all Jeongin sees.

“Take it for me”, he murmurs.

Hyunjin’s fingers squelch as they push deep into him. The feeling makes current run through Jeongin’s skin, blood rushing, and he cries out. The clash of feelings is too overwhelming. It presses all air out of his lungs, and Hyunjin doesn’t give him time to adjust.

Just pushes in to the brim, until his knuckles press against Jeongin’s opening, his walls forced to adapt to the sudden intrusion. And his finger rests deep inside, so deep that Jeongin thinks he can feel it below his navel.

Part of Jeongin loves it so much. The stretch, the sting, and the arousal that makes his middle throb with need so hard that his hips grind down on instinct. Everything washes white for a moment as he moans, and Jeongin’s brain is washed empty for a few blissful seconds.

“There we go”, Hyunjin whispers. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

It’s hard to snap back into reality. Jeongin heaves air into his lungs with all force he can muster. It moves his body down onto the fingers inside, and the shame overwhelms him. He can’t think about anything else than that there’s something inside of him. And it’s wrong, it’s so fucking wrong, and he panics and writhes-

Writhes on Hyunjin’s long fingers that glide over his sensitive inner walls with every twist of his body. It makes them rub against him, and Jeongin gasps for air. The feeling of all-encompassing wrongness takes hold of him, sinks deep into his bones.

“Stop! Stop this, please, I c-can’t-! Mmh!” Jeongin’s toes curl. He presses his eyes shut as he attempts to still his body. “I can’t take any more, please! Please don’t make me sin even more, please!”

Humming, Hyunjin releases a breath. The hand that has been resting next to Jeongin’s waist finally makes skin contact, fingertips dancing up and down his side. It makes Jeongin’s body tingle even more, the teasing touch, the hint of comfort.

“You know, I always found it so ridiculous.” His fingers pull back slightly, and Jeongin’s heart already skips a beat in relief – when Hyunjin stops. The pressure of his fingers hovers inside of Jeongin’s hole, rests against the soft wall, and his anxious pulse picks right back up. “It just doesn’t make sense, does it? This, right here.”

And Hyunjin presses down. It’s precise and firm, two fingers pressed insistently against a spot inside Jeongin that makes a sudden surge of stimulation shoot all the way to Jeongin’s head. Jeongin moans. It feels so intense. So good. Almost like touching his cock, but different.

Deeper.

Jeongin hates himself for wanting to feel it again. For how his thoughts stutter, before they run in a circle of again-please-please-do-it-again.

Almost as if Hyunjin hears him, he does. Starts gently pressing against the spot in a come-hither motion until Jeongin’s tingling cock starts leaking precum, thoughts just swimming in the intense pleasure of the stimulation.

The sounds Jeongin releases embarrass him, but he has lost all self-control. Hyunjin has stripped him bare in every way possible, and the feelings are so overwhelming that he cannot fight the way they wash over him like a riptide.

The soft chuckle makes white hot heat run over his face. “You’re so adorable, my little priest”, Hyunjin says. “Losing your mind on two fingers. I could listen to you whine and moan all day. Someday I will.”

The thought feels like pins and needles. That this won’t be over after tonight. That Hyunjin could take him somewhere as his pet, force him through this intense pleasure for hours and hours and hours on end.

The image makes panic and something that feels too much like fresh, hot desire war inside Jeongin’s chest. “A-ah, no, please- mh!“

His thighs quiver, as his cock tingles. Jeongin can barely see straight.

It almost feels like shortly before he comes. The pleasure surges all through his body, hot and sharp and like the most intense rush, accumulating higher and higher. Blinking his eyes open he sees Hyunjin’s face. It is framed by the sun above him, surrounding him like a halo.

Beautiful and hungry for Jeongin’s pleasure.

Jeongin’s thighs squeeze together as much as they can. He can’t come like this. He can’t! He just- He has to hold out, he has to-!

“Close, are we, pretty?”, Hyunjin purrs with a mean, knowing smile, and all of Jeongin trembles.

He whips his head from side to side. “N-no! A-ah, stop… S-stop, ngh-“

No matter how hard he tries, there is no escape to the steady pressure inside of him. How good it feels to have something long move in and out of him wetly, how targeted Hyunjin massages that sensitive spot deep in his ass.

“Hyunjin”, Jeongin whimpers, not sure why.

“That’s it, pretty, say my name. Pray to me when you feel this good.”

Pressure rises inside Jeongin’s head at the wording. At praying during something so sinful. Praying to anybody but his God.

Hyunjin’s fingers pull out slightly, just to smoothly fuck back in, right against that spot. Jeongin’s eyes roll back. Sparks fly everywhere around his vision, breath catching.

Hyunjin does it again.

Again.

Jeongin’s world zeroes in on that movement, the pressure on that sensitive spot, the way the arousal rises and rises-

And it all collapses.

Jeongin rushes over his edge, cock completely untouched as it spurts out hot, white cum all over Jeongin’s naked stomach. Hyunjin’s hand moves harder, mimicking the way someone else, another man would fuck him, and it is so much more than anything Jeongin experienced on his own. So much better.

He can’t breathe. Liquid bliss runs through his veins and he clenches rapidly around Hyunjin’s fingers, massages them as if he wanted to keep them in, chains clicking as his legs shake.

The feeling of being tied down just intensifies it. Makes his muscles tense even more, makes the orgasm shoot down into his toes and fingertips.

Jeongin pants. Lies utterly still on the altar as the sensation finally starts to fade, and his vision clears up again. All he sees is Hyunjin. Above him with the sun like a halo, eyes glowing silver.

“Beautiful”, he whispers, and Jeongin’s heart clenches painfully.

It hurts because he always wished to hear those words from Hyunjin. Always wished for Hyunjin to look at him as if he was the most important thing in the world.

And he knew he was never allowed to wish for something like that. That it could never come true.

Hearing the words now that he knows Hyunjin’s true nature just make that pain ache even deeper.

Of course, nobody could ever truly love Jeongin like that.

Not even his God. Not anymore.

The fight drains from Jeongin’s body. He feels broken. Like something to be discarded. After all, what he has just done is one of the greatest sins.

“Tell me, Jeongin”, Hyunjin above him says, fingers still buried deep inside of him. But in a small mercy, they have stilled. “Why is it a sin?”

It takes Jeongin a moment to find his voice. When he does, it rasps from all the moans and cries. His cheeks burn. “Because I’m a man. I cannot want this.”

His eyes close, but the ashamed blush on his cheeks never fades. The air inside the church feels like it’s crackling, like little bursts of lightning after a thunderstorm.

“Why not?” Hyunjin sounds soft and smooth, like the tendrils of a plant sliding into his ears. “Who are you hurting, Jeongin? If both of us want this, who are you hurting?”

Tears burn in the dark of Jeongin’s closed eyelids. “It’s a sin!”, he insists.

A test, maybe. He doesn’t know why, all he knows is what he’s been taught. He’s been taught not to question his great God, so he doesn’t.

How could he, a mere human be right and a God wrong?

“Then tell me”, Hyunjin says, and gently starts moving his finger again. The stimulation zaps through Jeongin too suddenly, and he yelps as he jerks in his binds.

It only takes a moment for his spent cock to twitch again, and an aborted moan catches in Jeongin’s throat as his muscles quiver against the stimulation.

“Why would this feel good, hm? Why would your God hide such a nice spot so deep inside your body that the only way to reach it is by putting something inside?”, Hyunjin asks.

Jeongin doesn’t have an answer. He can’t even begin to think of one, not when the waves of arousal that have ebbed off swirl around his body like sea that run over the shore.

“If men are only meant to lay with women, then why would your God created men and women in a way that allows them to be with their own? That allows men to feel good by being penetrated, and women to feel good without?” He crooks his fingers cruelly, pushes them right against that spot, and Jeongin’s chest lifts off the stone beneath him with a moan.

Hyunjin’s hand catches him. Weaves an arm beneath him, and slings it around his back, body hovering over body. He’s so close all of a sudden. His cold clothes tickle against Jeongin’s naked stomach, heart pounding so fast that Hyunjin must be able to feel it.

The shackles around his feet snap open. They release with a sudden click, and Jeongin distantly wonders why, but he can hardly think through how good the fingers moving inside his ass feel.

Hyunjin’s face is mere inches from his own. “Do you really think the God that created you would be so cruel?”, he asks, his breath, his scent, his everything all around Jeongin.

His eyes seem to glow silver with the moonlight, intense.

Jeongin’s look falls to Hyunjin’s lips. So perfectly crafted, so sinful to even look at.

Hyunjin shakes his head with something that almost sounds like a growl. “Not a sin.”

Holding Hyunjin’s burning gaze, Jeongin licks over his lips. All of his body is filled with tingling, voice small. “Stop reading my mind.”

“Then stop thinking so ridiculously loud.”

And Hyunjin kisses him. He kisses with the passion of a lover, as if there was truly a heart beating inside his body, as if he wasn’t a mere demon trying to coax out all the pleasure Jeongin has to give.

At the same time, he does just that. He licks into Jeongin’s mouth in a wet, filthy way, the same time that his squelching fingers press in deep, all the way inside Jeongin.

In, and out, saliva mixing and wetness spreading, and Jeongin feels so filthy and good at the same time that he cannot comprehend it.

He slings his legs around Hyunjin on instinct, sensitive thighs meeting soft black clothes, and Hyunjin is so warm underneath all those layers.

The pleasure mounts so much faster than before. Where it has been a steady simmer when Hyunjin started, the sensations quickly grow into an avalanche that spreads all throughout Jeongin’s body. He whimpers into Hyunjin’s mouth, as they exchange breath after breath.

When Hyunjin finally pulls away, Jeongin’s mouth stays open. As if he was waiting to receive another kiss like that, despite knowing how wrong it is. He feels so weak.

“A meagre God like him would never be able to create something as wonderful as you”, Hyunjin whispers, fingers thrusting in and out of Jeongin.

Jeongin stares at Hyunjin, even as his vision already starts to white at the edges. The words register, but they don’t make sense. “He created everything.”

Hyunjin’s laughter bellows through the church. It tingles throughout Jeongin’s bones, every muscle tensing as the rush takes hold of him. “He created nothing but lies. But it is alright, Jeongin. I’ll make you a believer soon enough.”

Jeongin’s legs quiver around him, and Hyunjin’s eyes pin him down on the altar harder than the shackles ever could. “Soon enough you’ll be mine.”

The possessiveness in his tone makes Jeongin gasp as he’s rushed into a second orgasm. It’s less intense than the first, but it makes his body shake even harder, cock almost painfully twitching as it spurts out a second load.

Before Jeongin has a chance to calm down even somewhat, Hyunjin pulls out his fingers and Jeongin whimpers at the sudden emptiness.

Hyunjin smirks, holding Jeongin’s gaze as he lifts his wet hand. The scent of lavender intensifies, and Jeongin watches with shame crushing him how it glistens wetly in the moonlight. These fingers have been inside of him. Have pushed him into two forbidden orgasms.

His stomach seems to boil with the guilt.

“Let’s see if you taste as good as you feel”, Hyunjin says with a grin.

Aghast, there is nothing Jeongin can do but watch as Hyunjin’s mouth opens, long tongue darting out, and starts licking the wetness off his fingers. He holds eye contact the whole time, and Jeongin’s thighs tense in a try to rub together, middle tingling wildly at the sight.

It’s so filthy. These fingers were inside of him, stretched him, fucked him, and Hyunjin licks and sucks on them with a delighted hum, all while looking deeply into Jeongin’s blown out eyes.

He lets one of his fingers come out of his mouth with a pop. “So Jeongin-ah. Is your God cruel?”

Not trusting his voice, Jeongin shakes his head like an automatism.

“Then why make this feel so good, hm?”

This time, Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at him. Knowing and teasing, like he’s already sure that Jeongin will have no choice but to answer something blasphemous.

And Jeongin is forced to think.

Because… it is strange. Isn’t it? He never questioned why it was a sin, just knew that it was. He assumed it was supposed to feel bad, to lie with a man. Not…

Not like this. Not even better than in the rare nights Jeongin touches his cock.

So… why?

His scattered mind runs in search of an answer, of something that makes sense. It doesn’t. It just doesn’t. Maybe it’s a test?

Or maybe…

His eyes snap back to Hyunjin. Yes. That must be it.

“You used your powers on me”, he breathes.

Hyunjin cocks his head in question, chuckling gently. “You think you felt so good because I used my powers on you?”

He sounds so unserious.

Jeongin feels incredibly dumb. As if it was truly stupid to even consider this. As if it was just an excuse, to try and burden somebody else with the guilt of his own sins.

Maybe it is. “Y-yes.”

Like fluid, Hyunjin’s body moves above him. Twists until he towers over Jeongin once more, tall and powerful. “Oh, Jeongin. You have no idea of my true powers.”

Gulping, Jeongin’s mind races back to their fight. Hyunjin should have been incinerated with Jeongin’s spell. Instead, he surprised Jeongin, and commanded his body. Forced him to drop the sun.

How is he so strong? Is he truly just an incubus or is he something… something else entirely?

Jeongin’s heart sinks when the air around them changes. As if it was suddenly charged, getting warmer, suffocating.

Hyunjin’s smile widens impossibly. In one smooth motion, he has jumped off the altar, and his hands cradle Jeongin’s face.

They force him to look back, hit with the full intensity of Hyunjin’s hungry gaze. “So let me give you a taste of them.”

A hand covers Jeongin’s eyes. It blocks out his vision, plunges him into darkness.

And then, pictures rush through his head. Memories. Of the times he’s sinned, all of them, of every single dirty thought he’s had about Hyunjin, about wandering hands and naked skin on skin.

Jeongin twists in the binds with a gasp, trying fruitlessly to escape the onslaught.

And then, there’s another face in his mind. One he hasn’t seen in four years.

“Seungmin.”

Jeongin whispers his name like a prayer, and maybe it is one. Seungmin has finished their training a year before Jeongin.

Only two years after that, Jeongin had received the blue letter that carried his name.

Jeongin always hoped he would be safe with their God. By His side, wherever he was after his death.

A nice thought.

And naturally, one that Hyunjin doesn’t allow him to linger on. The pictures change, morph into something more sinister, and sweat drips down Seungmin’s naked body. He’s above Jeongin now, hand fisted firmly into his hair, holding him in place as he fucks into him.

Deep and hard, and absolutely merciless. “You deserve this”, Seungmin whispers inside the memory of Jeongin’s fantasy. “You have sinned, so I am punishing you. Hold until I’m done with you.”

When Hyunjin’s hand leaves, Jeongin gasps for air. All of his body feels hot, the fantasy so much more present in his mind, almost as if it had truly happened. It hasn’t of course. Seungmin could never do something frivolous like that.

“Mh, he couldn’t?”, Hyunjin asks with a sultry voice. “Let’s find out.”

Before Jeongin has a chance to ask what that means, movement surges around him. The light in the room flickers, almost as if shadows were gathering by his feet, right next to the altar.

Fear grips all over Jeongin and he tries to get away, but the shackles and Hyunjin hold him in place.

Adrenaline pulses through Jeongin’s body. An incubus is not able to do something like this. He shouldn’t be.

Mouth dry, Jeongin starts to believe that Hyunjin is something else entirely.

The shadows by the end of the altar thicken more and more, swirling around in clouds of smoke and steam. They dense up, and suddenly, Jeongin sees the outline of a figure.

Then it all dissipates.

Jeongin’s heart stops. Where before, there was only the dark, empty church, is a person now. One that is so painfully familiar that all sorts of feelings are just waiting to storm through Jeongin.

Before the altar stands none other than Kim Seungmin.

Chapter Text

Jeongin’s throat ties up.

Seungmin looks different than in Jeongin’s memories. A bit older, wearing the same black clothing as Hyunjin instead of his priest uniform, or the soft blue cotton garments he loved to wear outside the church. When he would sit in the study with Jeongin, nose buried in a book, glancing at him every once in a while to check if Jeongin was doing the same.

He would grin teasingly whenever he noticed Jeongin staring, and the mere memory makes butterflies dance through Jeongin’s guts.

This Seungmin different from Jeongin’s memory. He is not smiling. His face is utterly blank. The fringe of black hair is swept from his forehead, chin and nose sharper than Jeongin knows them. More mature.

He looks intimidating. And stunningly handsome.

But worst of all, he looks so much like he was real.

Jeongin stares at him for what feels like an eternity. Empty eyes stare back. As if this in front of him was nothing but a puppet. And it must be. An illusion of his dead friend, pulled from the depths of Jeongin’s mind to break him down further.

Jeongin wants to hate it with all his might. Wants to be hurt, because Seungmin is dead. Jeongin mourned him for years, and knows that the real Seungmin must be with their God now, because he wasn’t rotten. He wasn’t sullied the way Jeongin is now.

But there is no pain inside him when he sees Seungmin. All he feels is warmth, a flutter, a terrible longing. The deep desire to touch him again, just once. Even if it’s just in an illusion.

The moment shatters to pieces when Hyunjin behind him sighs dreamily. “You loved him so much, didn’t you?”

Dread makes Jeongin freeze. Tears prick his eyes as his heart suddenly aches. “No”, he denies. He can’t. He couldn’t.

Hyunjin chuckles. “Is lying not a sin as well, my little priest?” Soft fingers card through Jeongin’s hair, doing nothing to calm the buzz inside his body.

Clothes rustling, Hyunjin leans towards his ear, until his lips almost touch it when he speaks.

“Say the word, Jeongin-ah”, Hyunjin whispers. “Say yes, and I’ll let you have this. There’s no more harm to be done, right? You’re already sullied anyways. This is your chance to be with him. To let him have all of you, to let him defile you the way you secretly wished for so long.”

The words make Jeongin feel filthy enough to shudder. All of his body is tense, as if somebody was pressing down onto his chest with all their might. “I c-can’t.”

He cannot deny that he wants it. The way Seungmin looks, so real, so close to every single fantasy Jeongin had during his training years makes his heated body ache for something he cannot quite name.

His heart pounds and Jeongin grits his teeth. It’s only an illusion. It is not real.

A small voice echoes inside his head. Not Hyunjin's. His own. Because... wouldn’t that also mean it doesn’t really happen, if Jeongin accepts this?

The guilt burns like acid in Jeongin’s veins. The knowledge that it would still be wrong, that it is wrong for Jeongin to desire Seungmin in the first place wins the battle of Jeongin's mind, even when his heart desires.

“That’s okay”, Hyunjin whispers almost gently. But his voice vibrates with dark excitement. “I’ll make you, then.”

Before Jeongin can react to that, Seungmin in front of him moves. Walks the two steps towards the foot end of the altar, and braces one knee up on it.

“No, no, no!”, Jeongin cries, writhing. “He c-can’t see, he can’t-!”

He’s incredibly aware that he’s still naked in the middle of the church, the dark wide space like thousands of eyes on him, tickling his skin, clawing at him. Panicked, Jeongin pulls in his legs to hide his bare, filthy middle, as Seungmin unforgivingly swings himself up onto the altar.

His eyes are not empty anymore. They are alive, run down Jeongin’s naked form, down his legs, and back up to his face.

The eye contact is intense. Jeongin pants as his cheeks heat up rapidly, just from the way Seungmin looks at him. Stares him down.

“Jeongin”, he says.

Just one word, and it makes butterflies go loose inside Jeongin’s bloodstream. His name in Seungmin’s voice, the same voice he remembers from too long ago vibrates through him. Full, and slightly raspy, and filled with so many memories. Jeongin wants him so much.

“Make him stop”, he whispers over his pounding heart, eyes fixated on Seungmin who slowly crawls closer. On the way his muscles move beneath the clothes, the way his eyes wander down Jeongin’s body time and time again.

Hyunjin cards his fingertips through Jeongin’s hair. The light touch lets goosebumps erupt all over Jeongin’s naked skin. “Mh, I don’t think I will.”

There is nothing Jeongin can do but watch as Seungmin’s gaze falls down to his naked, quivering legs again.

“What are you hiding?” Seungmin’s voice is cold, neutral, but deeper than usual. Jeongin’s heart echoes throughout the whole church with how hard it is beating. It sounds so much like Seungmin, looks like him. Every single feature of his face, down to the way he stands, looks, and breathes.

“Jeongin”, he says again, warningly, and it makes something unravel.

“N-nothing”, he breathes, shaking. Alarmed. Seungmin can’t see, he can’t let-

“No?” Seungmin’s form stops right before Jeongin’s shaking legs, kneeling. His eyes are as dark as his hair, fixated on Jeongin’s. As if they could see right through him. And yet he will tear the truth out with his bare hands. “Open your legs.”

Jeongin shivers against the cold stone. The metal around his wrists clinks, as Seungmin kneels there, just a hair-breadth away from Jeongin's thighs that are pressed together.

If he opens them… Jeongin feels his hidden hard cock twitch, the little puddle on his belly cooling rapidly in the cold air of the night. His hole feels wet. So wet. It’ll glisten in the moonlight the way Hyunjin’s fingers did, and Seungmin will see, he’ll see immediately that-

“N-no.”

Seungmin’s eyebrow twitches. “You don’t say no to a superior.”

Arousal shoots through Jeongin. Ugly and hot and unwanted. He should not like any of this. Not the way he’s treated, not that he’s given no choice, not-

Not Seungmin.

And yet he can’t help but quiver with shame and raw desire as he stares at the first person he has ever loved, the person that has made him sin so many times before.

Seungmin’s voice is as cold as he always imagined it to be in a situation like this. When he finally catches Jeongin, his forbidden desires. “Open. Your. Legs.”

Jeongin closes his eyes as the humiliation washes over him. His breath comes in shivers as he repeats the words in his head.

You don’t say no to a superior. Open. Your. Legs.

He can’t say no. It’s not his fault, right? He can’t say no.

It doesn’t stop the hot tears from forming on his waterline or the violent shake in his legs, as Jeongin slowly widens them. Seungmin watches him the whole time with sternly raised eyebrows, almost daring him to disobey.

Part of Jeongin wants to, to find out what would happen. But the much bigger part of him wants to be…

Wants to be-

Good.

He always just wanted to be good.

And so, with a pounding heart, Jeongin parts his legs wide enough for Seungmin to see everything.

Jeongin cannot help his loud, hiccupping breaths that echo through the cold church as he reveals his middle. His cock lies hard and flush against his stomach, the trail of cum on his torso proof of what he’s done.

Cool air rushes over his hole, and Jeongin clenches down hard when he feels how open he is. How wet he still is. He must look like the epitome of sin, and letting Seungmin see this side of him strips him bare in a way that makes him suffocate.

Blood rushes to Jeongin’s cheeks, hot and red.

This side of him has always been there, Jeongin knows. No matter how hard he tried to hide it away, it has always existed.

A warm hand lands on the inside of his thigh, and forces Jeongin’s leg to open even further. Jeongin feels his pulse pound against Seungmin’s palm down there. He’s so close to Jeongin’s middle, and the certain knowledge that it’ll get worse from here sends him into a rush of tight anticipation that makes Jeongin whimper.

Seungmin’s other hand, the one not holding his leg up, reaches towards Jeongin’s tummy. Jeongin’s stomach twists. “S-Seungmin”, he says, maybe to stop him. But Seungmin seems determined.

A single finger swipes through the mess on Jeongin’s abs, glistening with his release. Humiliation flushes Jeongin's skin red. Then, Seungmin brings it to his nose for a sniff. The expression on his face shifts into surprise for a moment, before it settles on a devastating recognition.

“How filthy”, he says. The condescending tone lets Jeongin shake in his grip. Seungmin shifts with a deep hum that seems to rattle through the old church. It's all Jeongin can hear over his heartbeat. “You have sinned, Jeongin-ah.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, hyung, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

Seungmin clicks his tongue over all of his breathless babbling. His eyes are firm, cold, as if he was unbothered. Just doing what he has to. “You know that you shouldn’t have. Now I’ll have to punish you.”

Jeongin’s heart jackrabbits inside his chest. His voice gets high and thin. He doesn’t even remember that this is not the real Seungmin, too caught up in the moment. Everything feels hot. “Punish me?”

“You knew better than being so filthy”, Seungmin says. Jeongin wants to protest that he didn’t, that it isn’t his fault, but Seungmin is faster. “Or maybe... you have been tainted with something that made you do this?”

Swallowing too much saliva in his mouth, Jeongin coughs as he hurries to grab onto that lifeline of denial. “Yes! Yes, I didn’t mean to, it wasn’t me!” Tears run down his face, but Jeongin barely feels them. It feels like salvation that Seungmin doesn’t blame him. “It wasn’t me!”

Thumb rubbing over Jeongin’s thigh, Seungmin nods. “I suppose there is only one way to handle this. I’ll have to push the sinful matter out of you. All of it. That should be punishment enough.”

Jeongin pales. “Wh… What?”

There’s no sympathy or fondness in Seungmin’s eyes as they meet his. Just a hungry, black desire that slams into Jeongin like a hammer.

“I cannot allow you to remain like this, of course”, Seungmin says, and shifts closer. Between Jeongin’s legs. “Needy, and enticing for anyone who would walk into this church. Spreading your legs so willingly.”

With wide eyes and trembling limbs, Jeongin watches Seungmin’s hands fall onto his belt. Heat runs over his skin like a current. “So I will do what I have to. I’ll get all of it out of you. And you will bear it. Understood?”

“No”, Jeongin breathes. The cuffs clink against the harsh stone as Jeongin struggles against it. He could kick Seungmin right into the guts, throw him off the altar. He may be weak against demons without his sun, but Seungmin is still human.

Jeongin’s body tenses. He just can’t bring himself to. Can’t hurt Seungmin. Can’t truly try to stop this. Can only beg.

“No, please... S-Seungmin, I can fix this, just-“

The belt is open. Seungmin pushes sharper against Jeongin’s inner thigh, a hand so warm and lively it couldn’t possibly belong to an illusion. Jeongin’s pulse gallops, the air too thin to breathe, as his legs are forced further apart.

The detached way Seungmin handles him, like he’s truly just fulfilling a duty, does things to Jeongin. Makes him feel even filthier, even more like a slut. It makes his hard cock twitch, hole clenching as if his body couldn’t wait to have Seungmin inside of him.

“I will do this. And you will bear it with grace”, Seungmin says, expression never changing. The words echo unanswered in the cold church. And Jeongin realizes that this will happen. Inevitably.

Seungmin… Kim Seungmin… his first love will take his virginity. Seungmin will fuck him until he comes dry, and Jeongin can only lie there and take it, cuffed down and utterly at his mercy.

He goes light-headed.

Cocking his head, Seungmin lets his hand glide upwards on Jeongin’s leg. His palm is slightly rough, so incredibly human compared to Hyunjin’s, and comes to rest by Jeongin’s knee.

Jeongin’s breathing is shallow. His mouth goes dry when Seungmin shuffles closer. Opens the button of his pants and makes the belt shift with a clink that is way too loud in the quiet night surrounding them. Moonlight catches on the metal as it moves, as Seungmin gets himself ready and Jeongin…

Jeongin guiltily, carefully, lifts his head to see. To watch. His own body is obscene. Legs spread, one of them lifted, his naked foot just dangling in the air. His stomach heaves with every breath, and Jeongin lets out a quiet whimper when Seungmin reaches into his pants.

His hole clenches, wet, needy, pathetic. Every inch of him seems tense with something not unlike excitement.

Seungmin’s cock is already hard when he pulls it out, and saliva fills Jeongin’s mouth unbidden. It looks smooth and pink in the pale moonlight, the tip darker, a bit larger than his shaft. So very unlike his own, and so very much like Jeongin would have imagined it.

Jeongin licks his lips. His thoughts have singled in on a single one as he stares at Seungmin's cock: This will go inside of him.

Adrenaline rushes through him. It’ll hurt. It must hurt, there is no way something this big would not.

Behind him, Hyunjin chuckles. The sound runs down Jeongin’s spine like trickling water. “You wanted to see my powers, didn’t you?”, he says. Strokes a few more strands of hair from Jeongin’s forehead, that stick to it with dried sweat. Hyunjin hums. “Don’t worry. I prepared you well. And I’ll make sure to take any other pain away. You’ll only feel the overwhelming pleasure.”

Heartbeat slamming against his ribcage, Jeongin doesn’t know what to answer. He is caught between the two men he desired in his life, with no way of escape.

Hyunjin’s thumb rubs over Jeongin’s hot cheek, the simple touch more intense than it should be. “But I’ll leave some of the stretch for you. I know you’ll enjoy that.”

Legs quivering, Jeongin can’t help his natural flight instinct. Tries to pull away from Seungmin, whose hand immediately tightens into a fist on Jeongin's thigh. Nails bite into Jeongin’s soft skin, and he stops squirming as he locks eyes with his senior.

“Now, don’t misbehave, Jeongin”, Seungmin says, and his cock bumps against Jeongin’s entrance.

All of Jeongin’s body tenses like a fawn in the face of a predator. His heart thumps everywhere in his body at once, most of all down his middle. He can’t wait to have Seungmin inside of him, and he wants to bolt away at the same time.

“Have fun”, Hyunjin behind him sings, hands gliding down to his shoulders. He presses Jeongin down onto the altar as Seungmin starts pushing in.

“Mph!” Jeongin lets out a strangled noise as the muscle inside of him is forced to widen impossibly. The scent of lavender fills the air, combined with sweat, and the salty taste of sex.

The glide is way too easy. Seungmin slides deeper way too fast for Jeongin to comprehend, and he seizes against Hyunjin’s hold as his eyes roll all the way into his head with a broken sound.

Seungmin’s cock is hot. So much hotter than Jeongin had expected it to be, and he can feel every single inch that slowly thrusts into him.

It’s inside of him. Seungmin is inside of him.

Jeongin moans. He can hardly breathe, pants out broken little sounds at the stretch. Just like Hyunjin promised, it doesn’t hurt. 

But he feels the stretch. He feels it sting, feels how thick the intrusion inside of him is, how long Seungmin pushes himself into Jeongin’s middle, deep into his guts, and the thought makes him go insane. Eventually, their hips meet. Seungmin is inside him so deep Jeongin can feel him in his stomach with every breath, hard and hot and unforgiving.

“How would you like him to fuck you?”, Hyunjin asks in an almost playful tone. It never loses the condescending edge, and Jeongin sobs dryly into empty air. The atmosphere around him crackles like it is charged with his desire, his arousal, that had once been a gentle flow in his bloodstream, and now crushes against his defenses with more and more force.

“Soft, slow, romantic?”, Hyunjin suggests.

As if to demonstrate, Seungmin pulls back. His cock glides against Jeongin’s skin everywhere at once, and Jeongin’s breath gets stuck in his throat before he lets out a broken sound.

With a smooth grind of his hips, Seungmin slides home. All the way in, but slowly, gently almost. Jeongin moans. It pushes Seungmin against that spot inside of him, that sweet spot that makes stars explode, but it’s too soft, too little. All of Jeongin burns with desire, like an itch he cannot scratch, and it makes him go insane.

Seungmin does it again. Again. Sets a leisurely rhythm, as his hands gently glide up and down Jeongin’s legs. It’s so good, but at the same time, it drives Jeongin crazy with the teasing.

Tears run down his temples on the next blink, and Hyunjin wipes them away with the greatest care. “No, of course not. You want him to be rough with you. Want him to make you stop thinking. Want your body to be used, to be good for him, for him to lose his mind inside of you, right?”

Panting, Jeongin squeezes his eyes shut.

And nods. Imperceptibly almost. He doesn’t think when he does, just knows, instinctively, that all Hyunjin says is true. A soft kiss presses onto the top of Jeongin’s head, and Jeongin shudders at the sudden hint of affection. “Good little priest. I think that’s what he prefers, too.”

Looking back at Seungmin, Jeongin sees his senior's body shaking. As if it would take great self-control for him to keep up the slow pace. He looks less like an illusion in that moment and more like a raging soul in the body of a puppet, forced to dance on strings when he just wants to be let lose.

And God does Jeongin want him to let lose.

“Mh, come on, then, Seungmin-ah”, Hyunjin says. “Be rough with our pretty priest. Show him how much you wanted him, too.”

The change is immediate. Gone is the slow, gentle tempo, as Seungmin’s hand tightens on his knee, the other firm on Jeongin’s hipbone to pull him back. He presses forward until Jeongin's leg is almost pressed to his torso, and nails his cock right against that sweet spot deep inside Jeongin, the one Hyunjin hit with his fingers.

It's like a levee breaks. Pleasure rushes through every single vein in Jeongin's body, every nerve end firing with it.

Jeongin’s loud moan echoes through the church, muscles bulging as he strains against the shackles and Hyunjin’s hands on him.

This is exactly what Jeongin imagined it to be like. Intense, pleasurable, overwhelming. Probably better than he imagined. There is no way to think about how wrong it is what he is doing, not when it feels so good, not when all thoughts are replaced by the moans punched out of him with every single thrust of Seungmin’s hips.

Dazed, Jeongin stares up at Seungmin, at the way his mouth hangs open, too, dark eyes wandering over Jeongin’s naked body as if they wanted to commit every inch to memory. It almost seems to make Seungmin harden even more inside of him.

He glides perfectly over all of Jeongin’s sensitive spots, hands wandering along his body, and it doesn’t take long for Jeongin’s moans to get louder, higher, as the pleasure buzzes through every vein in his body. “Fuck!”, he curses, throws his head back and makes unexpected eye contact with Hyunjin. So beautiful, his pale face framed with the black hair, staring at him hungrily, and Jeongin can’t hold it in.

His middle tingles at the next thrust, and white pleasure shoots through him as he reaches his climax too quickly. His cock spits more cum onto the puddle that has formed in his belly button, but Jeongin can’t pay it any mind.

Not when Seungmin is fucking him through it so nicely, pounding against that spot inside of him again and again and again until it feels like his blood is replaced with liquid pleasure.

A moment later, it becomes too much. Jeongin cries out at the white discomort that pricks at him, and tugs harshly on the shackles around his hands. He gasps for air when Seungmin keeps pounding his oversensitive spot. Sparks fly up his spine, more and more, and Jeongin writhes on the stone altar from the pleasure-pain. “S-stop, ah, stop! It’s, ngh, too much, please, a-ah please!”

He can barely see. The ceiling is just swimming with how blurred his vision is, everything filled with colors, only interrupted by the white hot sparks that fly every time Seungmin pushes into him now.

“I know it’s too much”, Seungmin says. Jeongin hiccups. “But you will take it. This is your punishment, Jeongin-ah. Be good and allow it to hurt. Allow the pain to fill you until you’re empty.”

The words make Jeongin’s body seize on the altar that is heated from his own body, trying so, so hard to be good for Seungmin. He’s reduced to nothing but this, just a body that needs to be cleansed, and he desperately tries to stay still for that.

Tries to allow Seungmin to have his way with him.

It doesn’t stop him from crying out, his moans and whines filling the air around them like only the choirs usually would.

He wishes he could be quiet. His mouth is too open, to revealing, and he wishes he could be quiet, stuff the blanket of his bed into his mouth as he takes it.

“Beautiful, Jeongin-ah”, Hyunjin praises with a voice that is more like a purr. “You are so, so good for us. Here, so you have something to occupy your mouth.”

The tips of two fingers find Jeongin’s quivering lip, and he doesn’t think as he welcomes them. Hyunjin’s fingers slide in, unnaturally smooth on his tongue, filling his mouth.

Jeongin closes his lips around them and sucks. It grounds him. Muffles his moans into soft hums and hiccups.

“There we go”, Hyunjin says. “Good hole. Feels so nice to be used.”

It does. Jeongin cannot remember the last time he felt this good, this… weightless.

Like he’s doing good, doing things right.

Like… he is right.

He sucks on Hyunjin’s fingers as the rest of his mind is focused on the way Seungmin keeps sliding in and out of him. Again and again and again. The discomfort dissolves slowly, and Jeongin's thoughts swim in white noise as it slowly is replaced with pleasure again.

“Do you understand why I’m doing this, Jeongin-ah?”, Hyunjin asks almost conversationally. Jeongin can only pay him half a mind. “I know you think I’m doing this because I am a demon. Because I want you to sin.”

His free hand gently strokes over Jeongin’s hair, such a sharp, delicious contrast to how harshly Seungmin is still fucking him.

“The truth is, that I am anything but a demon.”

Jeongin whimpers around his fingers. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t want to think. Not when his mind is finally filled with bliss for once.

But like the waking from a pleasant dream, his thoughts shoot through him. Back comes the guilt, the shame, the knowledge that he failed.

“Oh, sweet Jeongin, you haven’t failed”, Hyunjin chuckles, and Jeongin hates that he can still read his thoughts. Quiet, overwhelmed tears run down into his temple as Seungmin continues his rhythm, Seungmin’s hand rubbing over his waist to pull him even closer.

“I have always been able to read them”, Hyunjin says softly. “Even before I met you.” He shifts to walk beside the altar, but his fingers remain deep inside Jeongin’s mouth. Jeongin stares at him with tear-filled eyes, confused.

An incubus should not be capable of this.

“True", Hyunjin says. "And I am not an incubus. Have you not understood it yet, Jeongin-ah? What I truly am?"

Gaze flitting over Hyunjin's face, Jeongin searches for the answer in his face. In the perfect lines, the silver glint that always seems to fill his irises. In the smooth nose, and the hair that is as black as the nightsky.

Hyunjin towers beside him, his presence vibrating in the air like a soft hum. 

"I can read your thoughts, because…” The church seems to fill with moonlight. As if it would swell with silver, the old tall halls filling with life, every crevice smoothed over, every sign of the times erased. All of it glows, and there is no denying that Hyunjin is the source of this power.

Jeongin’s heart slows down, almost as if it knew to be quiet in the presence of Hyunjin. Of something entirely unhuman, something much more powerful than anything Jeongin has ever encountered. Time itself holds its breath for Hyunjin’s next words. They prickle all over Jeongin’s skin with their undeniable truth.

“I am the one who created you", Hyunjin says with a voice that is quiet and yet pierces into Jeongin's mind. "Who created all of this. This world, and this universe.”

Hyunjin somehow looks taller, as if there was something way too large hiding in his fragile human shell and threatening to break out.

“I”, he says, as the moonlight bathes him entirely in silver, “am the true God of this world.”

Jeongin’s heart stops. His fingertips tingle. His thoughts are still slow and molten, and he wants to refuse outright.

But he can’t.

He can’t, because part of him believes it. Knows it must be true. And it makes sense. Why Hyunjin was so much stronger. Why he would be so possessive over Jeongin when he mentioned his God. The hatred he seems to have for Him, whom he has called a liar.

Another part of Jeongin shrivels back in fear in the presence of a being so powerful, and yet denies what Hyunjin says. Tells Jeongin that he must be broken beyond repair. That he cannot disrespect Him like this, that He will know Jeongin hesitated, that He will never forgive Jeongin.

The fingers inside his mouth pull out, a flat palm stretching towards Seungmin. Immediately, the movement inside Jeongin stops.

Jeongin lets out a shaky whimper, unsatisfied. Every inch of his body tingles with the tension. Without realizing, he had gotten close again. Every push a new wave of bliss that filled his veins, allowed him not to think.

Now, he has no choice but to dissect what Hyunjin has said. The true God? Jeongin wants to shatter the words. Wants to laugh into Hyunjin’s face, spit into it, call him all sorts of names of blasphemy.

Tears well up through his throat.

“I need you, Jeongin-ah”, Hyunjin says with a gentle smile.

Jeongin just stares at him. The words hurt more than Jeongin wants to admit. His heart aches. How long did he want to hear these words? How long did he want somebody to finally see him, to want him, to need him?

But it cannot be true. It must be a lie. All of this must be a lie, it must be, it must be, it-!

Hyunjin’s knuckles stroke over his cheek, a soft touch that leaves behind a steady buzz of power.

“I need you by my side. Look how good I can make you feel. Don’t you want this?”

Jeongin sobs. And he realizes that he wants to believe it. He wants to believe that Hyunjin, this beautiful man in front of him, needs him. Desires him. That he is a God, and he is here to save him from himself. From the loneliness and pain he had carried his entire life.

“Declare your devotion to me”, Hyunjin says. Whispers, really. His voice is so quiet, and yet it is all Jeongin can hear over the clinking of his cuffs and the shift of his hips.

Something warm swirls all over his bloodstream. Then, his eyes wander back to the ceiling. The sun above him.

Nausea hits him. Every single vein in his body fills with dread and self-hate when he realizes what his God must have witnessed. How thoroughly he has been destroyed in the eyes of Him.

Gentle, cool fingers find his cheek, cradle it. Then, Hyunjin slowly tilts his face to the side. So Jeongin has no choice but to look at him, his searching eyes finding Hyunjin's, and the moonlight that falls in through the window. “I will not force you, my pretty little priest. If you cannot devote yourself to me, you will walk away unharmed. I swear this to you.”

The choice is insane. After everything he has been through, Jeongin’s life is over. There is no place left for him in this world. Even if Hyunjin speaks the truth, even if he would let him go, Jeongin would be hunted by other priests. The knowledge makes everything slow down.

Nobody will be on his side. He’ll die, and he'll do so entirely alone.

Jeongin cannot breathe. He tries, and tries, lungs tensing. Until he finally sobs, loud and unrestrained. “H-he won’t-“, he starts, voice quivering. “Take m-me b-back!”

He’s tainted, the voice inside his head says, over and over again. He tried to suppress his sins and they have been pulled to the surface. He’s filthy, and unworthy, and he understands now that he always has been, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

Something akin to hurt flashes over Hyunjin’s face. No. Anger. Sympathy. “You are perfect, Jeongin.” He strokes some of the sweaty strands off his face with more force than necessary. Thumbs away the tears. His voice is almost inaudible, but Jeongin feels the words resonate in his heart. “You deserve to be loved the way you are.”

Jeongin sobs. A desperate breath of air that clings onto the words, lets them repeat over and over in his mind. His ears rush with the weight of the decision that has been forced upon him. He has given his life to his God. He doesn’t even know if Hyunjin is telling the truth.

His eyes snap to Seungmin, still frozen in position, still staring at him. His mouth has opened slightly, as if he was fighting to say something. Which is impossible, given that he is merely an illusion.

What would the real Seungmin say to him, now? Would the real Seungmin ever love him? Isn’t it better to live a lie than a truth that forces him to be unhappy?

He finds Hyunjin’s eyes again, that study him carefully. Jeongin finds himself wondering if he can still read his mind. His jaw is tense. But then his lip quivers.

“I-I… devote…”

He holds his breath. Presses his eyes shut. He can’t say it. He’s lying on the altar of his God, of the shepherd that has brought him to where he is. He has killed so many demons in His name. He has spent his life devoted to Him, has promised to remain that way until he dies.

“…m-myself…”

More tears run over Jeongin’s face. He can’t. He shouldn’t. He’s scared, terrified, and it just feels so, so wrong. It feels like he betrays all he has ever fought for. A thousand thoughts run through Jeongin’s head at once, screaming all over one another.

He has not yet spoken the last words. He can still go back.

And maybe he should, one of the voices says. Maybe his God will forgive him for all of his sins, if he just promises to abstain forever, if he kills more demons, if he is just better than anyone has been before.

Underneath it, there’s another voice. One that forces him to feel how all of his body is buzzing with the pleasure Hyunjin gave him. How Hyunjin sounded so, so convincing. Even right now, there is not a trace of ingenuity in his face. No teasing smile, no glint in his eyes.

Jeongin can’t think. His thoughts escape him in this very moment, at the point that will change his life, and he grits his teeth.

All he can do is feel.

The steady rush of pleasure inside his body. The ache in his heart and his unrequited love for Seungmin. The deep, devastating knowledge that he is wrong as long as he remains here.

He will never be right. No matter what he does.

You deserve to be loved the way you are.

The words echo with his heartbeat, as if they made a home inside his chest.

Jeongin swallows against the lump in his throat, lips moving around cold air as they try to find the courage to form the words.

The sound he makes when he finally does barely sounds human.

“To you.”

From one moment to the next, everything is filled with movement. The moonlight that falls in steadily through the window seems to swell, turn liquid, until it fills the room in waves. At the same, pulsing rhythm, Jeongin’s body is rocked with Seungmin’s sudden thrusts, their intertwined moans echoing through the air like music.

Hyunjin’s eyes glow silver as they look at him, hand never leaving his cheek. Jeongin cannot help but stare at him in return. “I will cherish you so much, Jeongin-ah”, Hyunjin whispers. His lips twitch into a smile, as Jeongin whimpers on a particularly good thrust.

He strokes away Jeongin’s tears. “That’s it, allow yourself to feel good. You look so beautiful Jeongin. Let me see it all. Your face in the throes of the building pleasure.”

Being watched so intimately has Jeongin’s blood rush even harder through his body. He’s already been close, but the embarrassment makes the pleasure even more intense. And he follows Hyunjin’s words.

He allows his face to twist with the raw desire, shifts his hips back towards Seungmin’s and almost smiles with relief as his eyes roll back. His mouth hangs open when he focuses on Hyunjin again, whose eyes glow even brighter.

“That’s it, Jeongin”, he says. “So good. Will you come for me? Honor your God.”

All air gets stuck in Jeongin’s throat at the words, a perspective so new and wrong that it makes adrenaline pump through him. He will. He will come to honor his God.

“I will fill you with my seed, Jeongin”, Seungmin pants out, and Jeongin’s bleary eyes snap towards him. He looks sweaty, a blush on his face that dots down his neck, the hunger in his eyes even more desperate than before. “Thank me”, he orders. “Thank our God.”

Swallowing too much saliva, Jeongin’s thighs quiver around Seungmin. He’ll be filled with seed. The mere thought makes his head feel as if it would explode. Thanking both of them for it is degrading, and yet, Jeongin cannot escape the command.

“Th-thank you, subaenim”, he gets out, voice shaking with how close he is. “Thank you, m-my God, oh, my God!”

It’s all he can do to have his eyes back on Hyunjin as the pleasure suddenly swells before it crashes down. Jeongin’s hole contracts violently around Seungmin’s cock, that pushes deep into him with a groan, hands tightening on his thighs.

And then, Jeongin feels it. The release that shoots hotly into him, fills him, completes him. Warm, and filthy, and perfect.

At the very same moment, something else seems to fill him.

Jeongin’s vision whites out with his orgasm before it turns completely silver, glowing and dancing before his eyelids. He lies still and steady on the altar as it happens. His biceps tickle, as if someone was stroking over them, wiping them with a tiny piece of cotton, erasing something that was there, painting something new. A steady stream of cool, calming liquid fills his blood stream, runs through his face, his body, all of it.

All the way deep into his organs.

And the pain he has carried for so many years is soothed. The burn damage from using the powers of his God – his false God – the charring that ate away at his muscles slowly but steadily, tore fibers that never quite healed…

All of it seems to slowly go away. Flesh mends, and a weight Jeongin never really knew he had is lifted.

Tears prick Jeongin’s unseeing eyes. He has carried the pain for so long he’s forgotten what it feels like without it. He feels so soft, and weightless. Exhausted, but so, so calm.

When the silver in his eyes finally fades, all he sees is black.