Chapter Text
>♡<
"I'm going to kill him."
Jimin looks up from where he's curled up on the couch to find Taehyung staring resolutely off into the distance, mouth pressed into a thin line. The demon had called the moment he'd managed to get the investigating HALO officers off his trail, after nearly two months of radio silence, excited about finally getting the chance to come visit.
The angel had listened to his excited chatter with a despondent frown, heart squeezing painfully in his chest at every mention of his name.
"Anyway, how's hyung? Is he giving you a hard time?" He'd asked, voice teasing.
A choked sob had torn its way out of Jimin's throat despite his best efforts.
"Taetae...he's gone."
Fast forward to a quarter of an hour later, and Taehyung was enveloping him in his arms, muttering soothing words and muted curses into the apartment. And Jimin, despite his resolution to stop crying had promptly dissolved into a puddle of tears, retailing everything that had happened between them since Yoongi had been left in his care between sobs.
Now, righteous indignation burns in Taehyung's eyes as he turns to Jimin heatedly. "I swear I'll do it, Minnie. Just say the word."
Jimin doesn't doubt that, he'd probably do the same if their roles were reversed, but he doesn't think murder is the best solution in this situation. Besides, he's not angry at the elder demon for doing what he did, he's just...sad. It's a lot pathetic, he knows, but that's just how it is. Extracting veagance is the last thing on his mind. He tells the demon as much, much to Taehyung's annoyance.
"And why not?"
"Because," Jimin says, snuggling deeper into the couch. Because what? Because he's a complete idiot who let his feelings get away with him? Because he would rather die than have Yoongi get hurt? "You don't even know where he is. He could be halfway around the world for all we know, or maybe down in hell."
Taehyung brushes it off easily. "Doesn't matter. I'll march straight into the ninth circle and kick his ass if I have to. Nobody breaks my best friend's heart and lives to tell the tale without serious injuries to their person."
A burst of warmth blooms in Jimin's chest. He tries for a tired smile, the sincerest expression he's mustered up in days.
"I appreciate the sentiment, but..." He trails off with a defeated sigh, looking down at his lap miserably. "What's the point?"
"What do you mean?"
The angel sighs again. The worst part of all this isn't even the fact that he's still pining over the man who broke his heart. It's that Jimin's starting to second guess his own feelings. He'd like to think that they had connected, in some strange way, that the fluttering of his heart every time he heard the demon's voice wasn't just a one-sided infatuation. But the truth of the matter is that Jimin's experience with anything akin to romance is limited, to say the least, and he's scared that he's just been reading too deep into all of this when all the demon considered him was a fling.
Jimin clenches his fists into his hoodie. "You should've seen his face Tae, when he told me he wanted nothing to do with me. It...it wasn't the truth, but it wasn't a complete lie, either. If there's even a chance that he genuinely thinks we shouldn't be together, who am I to oppose?"
Taehyung blinks at him. "The first person he's opened up to in two hundred years, maybe?"
Jimin snorts derisively. "And that worked out really well, didn't it? He took off the first chance he got."
There's a moment of silence in which Jimin holds Taehyung's scrutinizing gaze, watching as the boy narrows his eyes, searching his face.
"So you're just going to give up on him?"
The angel shrugs lightly. "There's not much else I can do."
Taehyung stares at him some more.
"Wow," he says finally, leaning back against the cushions with a highly judgmental look. "I didn't realize idiots came in pairs."
Jimin frowns, tossing a throw pillow at him. "Hey! Aren't you supposed to be on my side?"
“Aren’t you supposed to not be an idiot?”
“This is the first time I’ve ever felt like this for someone, Taehyung. You know that,” the angel protests, flailing his arms a little. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing!”
Taehyung isn’t impressed. “You could start with not letting the man you love get away.”
“I didn’t let him get away. Yoongi hyung left me.”
“Yoongi hyung is an idiot.” Comes the swift reply. Jimin makes a frustrated sound, glaring at his friend, because what did Taehyung expect him to do? Hold him down and demand an explanation?
“Yes,” Taehyung hisses when he voices his thoughts. Jimin flashes him an incredulous look, and the demon sighs. “Jimin, Yoongi hyung is a good guy. I wouldn’t have left him to you if I didn’t trust him with anything short of my life. But he is also singularly the most emotionally constipated being in all the realms, and that makes him prone to acts of idiocy.” He scoots forward in his place, takes the angel’s hands in his. “He’s been through some stuff before, and while that’s no excuse for shutting everybody out, it’s just how he is. I can’t presume and tell you why he left, but I can tell that he cares about you. And judging by the fact that you clearly care about him too, I’d say it’s a chance worth fighting for, don’t you think?”
Jimin can do little more than gape at his best friend, mind whirling with his words.
The demon gives his hands a squeeze. “Just think about it. I’ll go heat up the ramyeon and then we’ll binge Fullmetal Alchemist, okay?” he smiles, and Jimin feels his heart swell. The angel pulls him in for a hug, tucking his face into the crook of the younger’s neck.
“Thanks Taetae, you’re the best.”
“And don’t you forget it!”
>♡<
Taehyung shows up at Jimin’s door exactly thirty six hours later with an excited gleam in his eyes.
“Grab your pants, Jiminnie! We have things to do, places to be!” The demon crows enthusiastically, barging into his apartment and making a beeline for the pantry. Jimin blinks, standing by the door for a long moment as he waits for his brain to process the sudden flurry of activity after days of idle wallowing. He tries to remember if he’s made any plans recently, but quickly scraps the thought because oh yeah, he hasn’t stepped foot outside his apartment in thirteen days.
In a curious daze, Jimin follows the trail of Taehyung noises to find the demon crouched amongst his congregation of succulents, silk pajamas covered in dirt, wielding a tiny shovel in his hands.
“What are you doing?” he asks, looking on in mild horror as his friend shovels a handful of soil out of one pot, making a frustrated sound before filling it back up and moving on to another one. Taehyung doesn’t answer him, far too engrossed in his task. This time, when he scoops out the dirt, a crumbled piece of paper falls out, eliciting a triumphant cheer from the boy.
He flops down onto the ground, fingers carefully unfolding his discovery, and squints down at it. Jimin takes a moment to mourn the state of his precious plants.
“Hey, Minnie, can you read this?”
Taehyung is holding up the piece of paper, practically buzzing impatiently. Jimin leans down to steady his hand, eyes skimming over the worn down scribbles. “It’s…a bunch of numbers? 0412-0903-1802-1209, I think.”
The demon claps his hands, leaping to his feet. “Remember that,” He pats himself down in a fruitless attempt at dislodging the dirt, then turns to Jimin and frowns. “Where are your pants?”
Jimin eyes him warily. “In my room.” Where they'd remained for the majority of his mope fest as he'd developed a sudden aversion to them. Heartbreak makes a person do strange things.
“Well get them out of your room and around your cute ass, asap.” Taehyung shoots a glance at his bare wrist, making a distressed noise. He grabs Jimin by the hand, dragging the angel off to his bedroom and throws a random pair of pants at his head, pacing around the room. “We have a reservation in twenty minutes that cost me the cutest pair of Gucci slippers, and I will not be late.”
“A reservation?” Jimin’s brain seems to finally catch up with him as pauses halfway through pulling on the cursedly tight pair of skinny jeans, furrowing his eyebrows. “What’s going on, Tae? And what’s with that paper you dug out of my plant?”
Taehyung spares him a glance over his phone, before going back to anxiously staring at the screen.
“Those are just some secret codes from a few friends of mine down there, nothing to worry about.”
Jimin’s hand freezes on his zipper. “You’ve been stashing incriminating evidence from the underworld in my succulents?”
Something about his tone must’ve caught the demon’s attention, because he pockets his phone with a sigh, marching over to button up Jimin’s pants. He pats the angel’s thigh placating. “It’s really nothing to freak out about, Minnie. You’re like the last person anyone would ever suspect to be hiding demon gang codes, and I really needed a safe place to keep them. HALO’s being uncharacteristically thorough with rummaging through my stuff lately.”
I wonder why.
Jimin shoots Taehyung a dirty look. It goes completely unnoticed as the younger steers him out the front door, shoving a coat into his hands. The angel makes a note to go through his precious plants and ‘accidentally’ displace all his codes. That’ll teach the sneaky brat.
They’re halfway to their destination before Jimin realizes that he has no idea where they’re going.
“Where are we going?”
Taehyung unearths his face from the bundle of scarves winding up his neck. “To visit a friend.” He seems to realize that Jimin isn’t exactly in the loop, and his eyes light up, gait slowing down to a reasonable pace. “You haven’t met Seokjin hyung yet, have you? He’s a gluttony demon, used to be pretty high up in the hierarchy before his falling out with Satan. Something about a controversial steak, if the grapevine is to be believed. Now, he runs a restaurant here in Seoul and rips people off in the name of gourmet food for a living.”
And then the demon launches into a mini tirade about just how fucking much does it cost to book a reservation on a Monday night, and this better be worth it because Gucci bunny slippers do not come cheap, and—
“Hold up,” Jimin interrupts, because there’s really no knowing just how long Taehyung will rant when he goes off tangent like this, and Jimin would really like an actual explanation as to why he was so rudely wrenched out of his hermitage. “Why exactly are we going to see this guy again?”
“Because he has a functioning Gate, and is kinda the only demon I’m on decent terms with right now.”
Okay…“And we need a Gate why?”
Taehyung shoots him a funny look. “To save your boyfriend from Satan’s clutches?”
Jimin promptly trips over a crack in the sidewalk. He turns to Taehyung with wide eyes, heart beating faster in his chest. “You know where Yoongi hyung is?”
The demon’s face goes comically blank for a moment.
“Oops,” he says, at length, smiling sheepishly. “My bad. I knew I was forgetting something…”
Jimin’s eye twitches. “Start talking. From the beginning this time.”
“Okay.” Taehyung nods, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “So after our YouTube marathon yesterday, I called up a contact in the 4th circle about Yoongi hyung, because the guy’s a recluse and I’m probably the only one he knows in this place, so if he disappeared on you and didn’t come to me, he must’ve definitely gone back to hell. So I called Hoseok hyung, and it turns out that Yoongi hyung’s been down there all along. Apparently, he stomped in some two weeks ago and majorly pissed Satan off, and he’s been rotting in the 9th circle ever since.”
“Oh.”
Taehyung bites his lip sympathetically. “Yeah.”
So Yoongi didn’t technically leave him hanging of his own accord. But that doesn’t change the fact that he did leave him, and who knows if he had any intention of coming back to sort things out at all before he was imprisoned. The angel doesn’t quite know how to feel about this. But then he finds that it doesn’t really matter.
Yoongi could break his heart a thousand times over, and his heart would still clench at the thought of the elder being in any sort of pain.
Because Park Jimin is a whipped angel. Also very possibly a masochist. But he digresses.
“When do we leave?” he asks Taehyung, who looks a little surprised at the question. Jimin arches a brow. “Don’t give me that look, you already assumed I’d want to help before you dragged me out here, didn’t you?”
“Well yeah, but,” he gestures vaguely. “I thought it would take a little more convincing you know?” A smile pulls at the demon’s lips as he stares at Jimin with a hint of pride in his voice. “I guess I underestimated your capacity for niceness. Unless you’re just saying all this under pressure because I brought you here already, in which case we’ll haul my presumptuous ass back to your place right now, expensive as fuck reservation be damned.”
Jimin feels his heart warm. “You’d waste your Gucci money for me?”
“A noble sacrifice for a worthy cause.”
There’s a pause as Jimin registers what he’s about to do, spends a moment mourning his compromised sense of rational thought and braces himself for what’s about to go down.
“Then what are we waiting for? You have slippers to buy, and I have a demon to save.”
>♡<
The restaurant is, predictably enough, called A Taste of Sin.
Taehyung tells him an anecdote about how the name came to be, that it is now Seokjin’s pride and joy, second only to food, as they check in with the receptionist, who eyes Taehyung’s mud splattered pants with a comically scandalized expression. Jimin takes a look around as they trail after her to their table, cursing his friend for not stressing just how damn fancy this place was.
The walls are a deep, mellow red, adorned with an assortment of framed pictures of different dishes, with honest to goodness candelabras to light up the room. Overhead, a grand chandelier dangles from the ceiling, casting an ethereal glow over the equally fancy diners as they chatter on in hushed tones. Jimin looks down at himself, taking in his severely distressed skinny jeans and oversized sweater that he never got a chance to change out of, and feels sorely underdressed.
He scoots his chair as close to the table as he can and tries to make himself as small as possible, hoping that this Seokjin person isn’t too particular about dress codes.
Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind the scandalized stares, cheerily prattling off their order to the server without so much as a glance at the menu. They sit in uncomfortable silence for a while after, Taehyung lost in thought and Jimin trying to become one with the tablecloth, until their food arrives.
And then he’s effectively distracted by the heavenly smell wafting into the air, staring wide eyed at the plates of food that honestly looks too pretty to be eaten. Across from him, Taehyung’s already munching on a bite, and Jimin hastens to follow his lead, snatching up his chopsticks and digging in. It’s absolutely perfect. The vegetables are fresh and crunchy, the sauces a perfect balance of spices, and the steak, oh, the steak.
Jimin is in love. He considers ditching the rescue mission and just settling down with the steak instead. It would probably be a lot easier on his heart, and his stomach.
He polishes off the plate in record time. He leans back in his seat, feeling completely sated and catches Taehyung grinning knowingly at him over his own food. Which he has hardly even touched, save for a single missing piece of meat. The demon’s grin widens at his questioning look, and Jimin watches as he wiggles his brows before waving a waiter over.
“Is there a problem, sir?”
Taehyung puffs up his chest, sliding into his blank Tae mask, an expression that could be taken to mean just about anything, given the context. “As a matter of fact, there is.” He points at his plate of delicious steak, nose scrunching up in mild disgust before confidently proclaiming, “This steak tastes like my grandma’s dentures.”
The waiter blinks. “Uh, we can get that replaced for you, if you’d like.”
The demon pretends to think about it. “No thank you. I would like to have a word with the chef, if you don’t mind.”
He looks like he minds very much. It is nothing short of amazing to see his expression change from one of polite interest to utter and complete horror. “T-the chef?” Actual beads of sweat roll down his temple in the middle of freaking November. “Is that really necessary?” he asks faintly, staring desperately at Taehyung. “We can get you a refund, or discount coupons, or a complimentary meal—“
Taehyung levels him with an unimpressed stare. “Are you telling me what to do?” The poor man shakes his head quickly. “Do you know what dentures taste like? Nothing good, let me tell you. I want to know why this expensive ass piece of meat tastes like them, and I want to hear it from the chef.”
Resignation flashes in the waiter’s eyes at the firmness of Taehyung’s voice, and Jimin watches as he trudges off through the back doors, body slumped in defeat.
“What was that about?” he asks his friend, who’s casually munching on another bite as if he didn’t almost make a grown man pass out.
Taehyung swallows, eyes twinkling in mischief. “Getting an appointment with Jin hyung. We need to talk to him, and we’ll be here all night if we wait for that to happen of its own accord.”
“And insulting his food will achieve that?”
“Wait and watch, Jiminnie.”
As if on cue, the doors to the kitchen burst open, and a man in a chef’s hat and a pink apron storms out, positively fuming. His eyes scan the patrons, some of who barely bat an eyelash at the commotion, face an alarming shade of red, before he bellows, “Who dared insult my steak?!”
Taehyung shoots Jimin a wink, before waving a hand wildly in the air. “Seokjin hyung!”
The man’s head snaps in their direction, taking in Taehyung’s smiling face. His face grows impossibly redder, and Jimin fights the urge to crawl under the table and hide as he makes his way over.
“Kim Taehyung,” the man—Seokjin—bites out, looking just about ready to rip someone’s head off. “What are you doing in my restaurant?”
The younger demon is blissfully oblivious. “Having dinner, of course. No offense, but you’ve really let yourself go since the last time we met, hyung.” He sweeps his gaze around the room, then shakes his head at Seokjin. “I mean, what kind of respectable establishment doesn’t have a minibar?”
Seokjin’s jaw twitches. “I decided to get rid of it aftersomebody decided to turn it into the Trevi fountain.” Taehyung only throws him a winning smile, and the last of the anger leaves the man’s face, leaving behind a world of exasperation. “Didn’t I have you blacklisted?”
“That was your other place, hyung. The café in Gwacheon, remember?”
“Unfortunately.” Seokjin sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. Jimin feels bad for the guy; he knows firsthand just how much of a pain Taehyung can be when he puts his mind to it. “My staff told me something about a steak? And dentures?”
Taehyung grabs an empty chair, pulling it up to their table.
“Don’t worry about that, hyung. You’re steak is fine, a little bland maybe, but definitely edible.” He pats the chair invitingly, an easy smile on his face. “Take a seat, hyung. You look like you could use a break.” Seokjin eyes the proffered seat warily, but plops down into it all the same. Satisfied, Taehyung goes back to his food, while the elder demon looks like he’s regretting all his life choices. Jimin wisely keeps his mouth shut, fiddling with the hem of his sweater in the silence.
It’s not long before Seokjin lets out a deep breath.
“Why are you here, Tae?”
Taehyung looks up from his plate. “Do you need a reason to see your favorite dongsaeng?” Seokjin flashes him a warning look and the younger thankfully obliges, expression turning serious in a matter of seconds. “We need to borrow your Gate.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he swallows, lifting his chopsticks to point at Jimin. “Jiminnie here wants to go rescue Yoongi hyung from the 9th circle.” Seokjin looks over in Jimin’s direction, blinking in surprise, like he hadn’t realized the angel has been sitting there all along.
“Hello,” Jimin says lamely. He tries for a respectful bow, seated as he is. “I’m Park Jimin, it’s nice to meet you.”
Inexplicably, a warm smile spreads across Seokjin’s lips. “You’re Taehyung’s angel, aren’t you? It’s an honor to finally meet the boy Tae here won’t shut up about. I’m Kim Seokjin, manager and head chef of A Taste of Sin.”
Jimin’s a little thrown off with how fast his aura changes, the smile on his handsome face making him look so much more approachable all of a sudden. He finds that the smile he offers in return is entirely genuine.
“This is a lovely place, Seokjin-ssi,” he says, wanting to make up for all the distress their appearance seems to have caused him. “And your food is absolutely delicious. I don’t think I’ve ever had steak this good in, well, ever.”
The smile on the elder’s face broadens. “That’s very sweet of you, Jimin-ah. I see you’ve managed to stave off Tae’s influence and retained your purity. An admirable feat.”
Jimin steals a glance at his best friend, who’s frowning at the elder demon with cheeks comically puffed up with food. “Tae can be a handful, but I’ve had a few decades of practice.” He grins when Taehyung makes an affronted noise. “For all his annoying tendencies, though, he means well.”
Seokjin looks delighted. Before he can open his mouth to further discuss the merits of being friends with Taehyung, the object of their discussion speaks up with a not so subtle clearing of the throat.
“If you two are done bonding over bad mouthing me, can we get this show on the road? Yoongi hyung’s not getting any younger down there and I have a pair of Gucci slippers with my name on them waiting for me.”
At the mention of Yoongi, Jimin sobers up, recalling the purpose of their visit. He turns to Seokjin with his most sincere expression, throwing in half a pout for good measure. “Seokjin-ssi, we’re really sorry for bothering you with this, but we really need your help.” He maintains the face as the elder regards him speculatively, an unreadable look in his eyes.
“Why do you want to help Yoongi? I’ve known that guy for nearly a century and I’d still have inhibitions about getting him out of prison. So why do you care?”
The question stops Jimin short. He wracks his brain for an answer, coming up empty. He doesn’t know why he cares about he cares about Yoongi, just that he does. So Jimin sticks to the truth. “I may not have known him as long as you have, and I don’t really know why, but…Yoongi hyung…he means a lot to me.”
Seokjin appears to be considering his response. Meanwhile, Taehyung rolls his eyes.
“What he means to say is that he loves him. Long story short, I dumped hyung at Jimin’s place after he broke out of prison, told him to behave, and when I finally get HALO off my tracks I come back to find that Jiminnie’s gone and fallen in love with the guy and Yoongi hyung got himself arrested again.”
Jimin is utterly mortified. He sneaks a look at the elder’s face to find him a mix between amused and surprised. He’s not sure what that means for their chances of getting into his Gate, so he dons his famous puppy eyes for good measure.
After a minute, Seokjin cracks.
“Follow me,” he says, getting up and hollering for his assistant manager. Jimin and Taehyung exchange twin looks of glee, jumping out of their seats to follow the elder through the back door, Seokjin muttering something about cute dongsaengs and a weak heart.
>♡<
Seokjin’s apartment is as classy as his restaurant.
The décor is chic and cozy, each room color coordinated to a different palette. It’s all very spacious and certainly becoming of the owner of a successful string of restaurants and café’s across Korea. Jimin catches a glimpse into a large balcony on their way to the Gate and is astounded to see a sprawling garden of herbs and spices peeking out. That secures Seokjin an automatic promotion on his mental list of people he likes.
He elects to ignore the fact that Yoongi is somehow in the top three despite his ardent dislike for anything leafy.
The elder demon leads them deeper into his home, and Jimin stares wide-eyed as they enter what has to be a kitchen, but is at least twice the size of his entire apartment. The room is fully furnished, with an elegant dining table residing in a corner beside a large couch, charcoal black granite counters and scores of stainless steel appliances sparkling in the florescent lights. Seokjin smiles at his obvious appreciation, guiding them past the kitchen and into the pantry.
Like the kitchen, the storeroom is huge, housing dozens of shelves and cupboards neatly labeled with their contents. Jimin spots no less than four industrial refrigerators lined up in the back.
Seokjin walks over to the last one, powered off by the looks of it, and wrenches it open to reveal a swirling mass of…something.
“Here you go,” the demon declares, stepping back. Taehyung and Jimin peer curiously into the Gate, neither of them having used one since they decided to move to earth. Almost in a trance, the younger demon sticks his hand out, only to retract it with a yelp when the Gate rejects him.
“Ow,” he mumbles, cradling his hand to his chest and pouting at the portal. Jimin ensures that the damage isn’t too bad, before turning to Seokjin with a grateful smile.
“Thank you, Seokjin-ssi,” he says, bowing.
The demon waves off the gratitude with a smile. “Call me hyung, Jimin-ah. And there’s no need to thank me. Yoongi is my friend too, even if he’ll deny it till his final breath, and I do care about him. If anything, I should thank you for giving me a chance to show it.”
Jimin can do little more than beam at this, a fuzzy feeling spreading through his extremities.
“So,” Seokjin says, clasping his hands in front of him. “What’s the plan?”
The angel blinks. He turns to Taehyung, who, sensing the eyes on him, breaks his stare off with the Gate with an urgent sound.
“The plan, right!” Taehyung exclaims, eyes glimmering in excitement. “Okay, so I already contacted Hobi hyung and told him to wait for Jiminnie’s arrival. Joonie hyung is crashing at his place while they figure out how to break Yoongi hyung out of prison, so once you find them, they’ll fill you in on whatever they’ve got. So all you have to do is make it to Hobi hyung’s bar.”
He fishes another piece of paper out of nowhere and shows it to Jimin. It’s a surprisingly detailed, though crudely drawn map of the 4th circle of hell, with a neon highlighter tracing the path he would have to take from the arrival point to the bar. “It’s a fairly straightforward route, so you shouldn’t have any problems. When you get to the bar, ask for Jung Hoseok, and tell him that code I gave you earlier. Hyung will take it from there.”
Jimin listens attentively, nodding along diligently. It sounds simple enough. He can totally do this. So yeah, this’ll be his first time in hell, but at least he won’t be alone in this crazy rescue mission.
Seokjin speaks up from where he’s been looking on over their shoulders. “Wait, you’re not going to send him in there looking like that, are you?” Jimin feels mildly insulted. The elder seems to pick up on it, because he elaborates, “He’s too cute and fluffy. Those mongrels will eat him alive.”
Taehyung places a hand on his hip. “Good point, hyung. What would you suggest?”
There’s a gleam in Seojin's eyes when he responds, and Jimin knows this isn’t going to end well for him.
“A disguise.”
>♡<
Thirty minutes later, Jimin finds himself standing before the Gate once again, this time significantly more naked and very peeved about the fact.
“It’ll help you blend in,” the demons reassure him, dragging him over to the portal despite his best attempts at staying rooted to the ground.
The angel shoots them a horrified look. “Blend in? I look like a hooker! This is like, the complete opposite of blending in!”
“Rude,” quips Seokjin, who had been gracious enough to lend Jimin a few articles of clothing, which had unfortunately undergone modifications by a Taehyung with a pair of scissors before ending up on his body. Jimin glares at him, chucking his manners out the door for the time being.
“You do not look like a hooker, Minnie,” Taehyung says patiently. Jimin turns his furious gaze on his ex-best friend, because does no one care about the fact that he’s practically shirtless? “You look like a young, virile demon of lust ready to march into the very pits of hell and save your true love from Satan’s grubby clutches!”
Jimin is not impressed.
The younger demon frowns. “Do you want to help Yoongi hyung or not?”
Damn it. Jimin feels all the indignation seep out of his body. In a last ditch attempt, he turns his best imploring look to the demons. “Why do I have to be Lust, then? Why can’t I be, like, Pride or something?”
“Because no one would believe that for a second. Besides, Lust suits you.”
Jimin doesn’t know how to take that. “But—”
“No buts, Jiminnie. Stop whining, you’re fucking hot, okay?” Taehyung sends him a stern look, shoving him towards the Gate. He leans back to share a conspiratory smile with Seokjin. “Yoongi hyung’s gonna flip when he sees you.”
The angel blanches at the thought of Yoongi, of all people witnessing his humiliation in this sorry excuse of an outfit. His stomach feels queasy, and he takes a half-step back, entirely prepared to give up, but Taehyung intervenes, latching on to him and towing him back to the Gate.
“Remember, Minnie, don’t talk to strangers, unless you have to ask for directions, and even then make it snappy. Don’t take anything from any suspicious demons, or just anyone in general, and don’t stray from the highlighted path. When you find Hobi hyung and Namjoon hyung, stick to them, okay? They’ll look after you,” Jimin struggles in his hold, managing to turn around in his arms at the precipice of the Gate. He finds a teary eyed Taehyung looking back at him and the protests die in his throat. “Most importantly, bring my platonic soul mate back in one piece, yeah?”
Jimin’s heart clenches. “Tae…”
“That being said, go kick some demon butt.”
And then he’s being shoved into the Gate, falling back into the swirling mist.
>♡<
Jimin emerges on the other side completely off balance, continuing his fall until he collides into another body. By some absolute miracle, he manages to stay upright, stumbling away from the stranger, mind reeling from the journey.
Through the haze in his brain, Jimin can make out a burly demon glaring at him. Great, he thinks. Barely here for two seconds and now I’m going to die. Thanks, Tae. But then the man looks him over, once, twice and then he smirks, flashing the angel a suggestive wink before going on his merry way.
Jimin stands there, stunned, for just a moment. Then he whips out Taehyung’s map, scanning the layout, and looks up to determine his location and gets his very first look at hell.
It’s…disappointingly normal.
There are no fiery pits littering the cobblestone ground, endangering the lives of pedestrians. No sinister looking creatures leap out at him from the shadows as he walks past alleyways. Yes, the sky is an unusual shade of vermillion, but he finds it kind of pretty, especially with the puffy white clouds floating along like pieces of strawberry cotton candy. In fact, the whole place strikes Jimin as quaint, the soft orange glow and brick establishments making him feel like he went back in time to the middle ages.
Even the people seem perfectly normal, bustling about the streets serenely save for a few curious glances aimed his way, and not converging in on him like he’d half expected.
If not for the giant, pulsing ball of swirling energy suspended smack dab in the center of the town, Jimin wouldn’t have guessed he wasn’t somewhere on earth.
All things considered, it’s easy for him to find his way to the bar from there. He follows the path set out by Taehyung religiously and finds himself closing in on the establishment in no time. He’s glad that he doesn’t have to ask around for directions; the bar is apparently located in one of the seedier parts of the 4th circle, and though he’s yet to be accosted, the occasional leers sent his way make his skin crawl.
Jimin looks up from the map to find ------ painted on a slab of wood protruding out from a worn down building, and releasing a sigh of relief, quickly makes his way over.
The smell of cheap liquor assaults his nose, coupled with what he assumes to be burning wood, as he maneuvers through the dimly lit room towards the counter. The bartender on duty is busy serving another customer, so Jimin busies himself with taking in the eccentric décor of the place. The walls are covered in an assortment of knick knacks, including but not limited to, boar heads, and Jimin even sees a couple of hand torches in the mix. The furniture is almost entirely wooden, and the angel questions the rationality of the person who decided to stick a roaring fireplace in the room.
Despite the haphazard furnishing, the bar gives off a homey feeling that sets Jimin’s nerves at ease.
A drink is set down in front of him with a loud thump. Jimin stares at the dark liquid foaming in the glass for a moment, before looking up to the bartender.
“Um, I didn’t order anything…”
The lady flashes him a smile. “I know. This here’s courtesy of that man over there.” She jerks her head towards the other end of the counter and the angel follows her gaze to see a tipsy looking demon staring straight at him. He offers a leery grin when Jimin looks over, and the angel is quick to avert his gaze.
“Oh.” He fidgets in his seat, trying to shake off the unmistakable feeling of being watched.
“Looks like a creep, if you ask me.” The bartender is looking at him with a sympathetic smile. Jimin definitely agrees. She tilts her head curiously. “Haven’t seen you around here before. You new to the circle?”
The angel nods. “I just came down from earth.” He wonders if he should ask her about the demon he’s looking for, then decides that she seems friendly enough. “Actually, I’m looking for someone. You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find Jung Hoseok, would you?”
“J-Hope? Yeah, he’s in the back. Be out in a bit, I think. Stick around and you’ll catch him.”
Jimin sends her a grateful smile. “Thank you,”
“No problem, sweetie.” A customer stumbles up to the counter then, babbling drunkenly, and she sighs, shooting him an apologetic look. “I’ve got to get to work. Give me a holler if anyone gives you a hard time, yeah?”
The angel nods thankfully, and then she’s gone with a swish of her apron. Hardly a moment passes before Jimin registers another presence beside him.
“Hey there,”
It’s the man from the counter, settling himself onto the stool next to Jimin, far too close for comfort. Jimin gulps, wondering if it would be rude of him to slide into the next seat, possibly triggering a reaction from the clearly inebriated man. “Uh, hi.”
The demon flashes him a seedy smile, then juts his chin out towards the untouched glass of alcohol. “Don’t like the drink?”
“I, uh, don’t drink alcohol, actually.”
The man doesn’t look like he believes him. “Playing hard to get, eh? I like it.” He leans back against the counter, glazed eyes trailing down his torso, setting Jimin on edge. “So. Heard you’re looking for J-Hope,”
Jimin takes the opportunity to try to tell the guy to back off. “Yeah, I am. He’s a friend of mine. He’s just finishing up a few things before we head out.”
The man frowns. Jimin thinks that maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.
“You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?” he leans forward, the stench of alcohol strong on his breath. There’s a possessive look in his eyes that makes Jimin’s stomach squeeze uncomfortably. “You’re wasting your time with Jung. Rumor has it he doesn’t swing that way.” A rough hand comes to rest on Jimin’s thigh, and a ripple of fear shoots up his spine. “I can show you a good time. You hungry? I’ll give it to you all night, sweet cheeks. What do you say, hmm?”
“N-no thanks,” Jimin stammers out, not understanding half the words that come out of his mouth, but recognizing the malicious glint in his eye as definitely not a good sign. He catches the bartender’s eye from the other end of the counter and sends her a panicked look. She nods, spins around and disappears through the back door. Jimin stares, feels his heart sink.
A yelp escapes his lips when the man starts kneading his skin, and Jimin stops the motion with both his hands, prying the offending limb off. He stands up shakily, knocking over the stool in the process.
The demon follows suit, slowly inching towards him. “Don’t be like that, angel.”
The familiar moniker sounds wrong coming from this stranger, and Jimin finds himself desperately wishing Yoongi was here. Before things can escalate any further, the back door slams open and a man walks out, making a beeline for Jimin. He comes to stand beside the angel, looking the drunkard head on, the air around him almost buzzing with power.
“He said no, creep. Back off.”
The man’s eyes widen at this appearance, and Jimin detects a trace of fear. Still, he holds his ground, halfway into Jimin’s space.
The newcomer’s glare hardens, and his aura expands tenfold, barely restrained fury burning in his eyes, as he growls, “Now.”
The drunkard jerks as if he’d been slapped. Then he proceeds to hightail it out of there as fast as he can.
Once he’s safely out of the establishment, his savior turns to him.
“Are you okay?” he asks, no trace of the immense power he’d displayed just moments before. Instead, his eyes are kind and friendly, mouth set in mild concern. Jimin can only nod, a little bewildered at the change. The man frowns, then pulls out a chair, gesturing for Jimin to sit down. The angel belated realizes that his legs are shaking, and he promptly plops down, embarrassed. “Relax, kid. You’re safe now."
"I swear, I leave to take a piss for five minutes and something goes wrong.”He slumps down into the seat next to Jimin, raking an annoyed hand through his spiky hair. “Fucking assholes, preying on kids,”
Still shaken by the encounter, it takes Jimin a moment to muster the presence of mind to speak. “Thank you, for helping me.”
The man tilts his head to look over at Jimin with a reassuring smile. “Don’t mention it, kid.” He looks the angel up and down, but there’s nothing sinister in his eyes, only mild curiosity. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s someone like you doing in a dingy place like this? It’s not safe to be in these parts of the circle if you don’t know your way around, you know.”
A sigh escapes Jimin’s lips. “I know,” So much for smooth sailing his first time in hell. He was excited to explore the place on his own, but now he really just wants to find Tae's friends already. He looks to his savior and decides to try his luck. “I…I’m looking for someone. A Jung Hoseok?”
The man’s face lights up at that, lips turning up into a strangely heart shaped smile. “Well, you’ve found him.” He says, folding into a funny little bow before Jimin, who’s honestly suffering whiplash from how fast his moods change. “Jung Hoseok, wrath demon extraordinaire, and co-owner of this joint. How can I be of service?”
Oh, Jimin thinks. Well then. So much for a decent first impression.
He clears his throat, sitting up a little straighter in an attempt to scrape together some ounce of composure. He tries to plaster on his signature smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, Hoseok-ssi! I’m Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung sent me?”
The angel watches in amusement as recognition hits the man, his eyes growing wider the longer he stares at Jimin, until he’s scared they might pop out of his skull. Hoseok shoots a paranoid glance around the room, scooting forward in his seat. “Taehyung’s angel?” he asks.
“Um, yeah. That’s me.”
An inhuman squeal escapes his lips, approaching ultrasonic decibels, and suddenly he’s all up in Jimin’s space, a huge grin splitting his face.
“Taehyung’s told me so much about you!” Hoseok exclaims, hovering over him excitedly. After only a moment’s hesitation, he grabs Jimin’s shoulders, looking him over almost fondly. The angel finds himself flushing under the attention. Hoseok coos at him. “Aigoo, you’re so cute and small and fluffy! Tae wasn’t kidding when he called you a mochi. Although,” The demon pulls back suddenly, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he waggles his eyebrows. “He didn’t mention that you were hot too.”
Jimin’s certain he resembles a tomato by this point. “O-oh. Um, thank you, Hoseok-ssi.”
Hoseok waves his words off. “That’s Hobi hyung to you, Park Jimin. None of that Hoseok-ssi business, okay?” The angel nods shyly, his eyes widening when the demon reaches across to pinch his cheek with a blinding smile. “Man, this is the first time we’re meeting, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. I can’t wait for you to meet Namjoon and the others—”
He stops himself short. “That reminds me…is there something you want to tell me, Jimin-ah?”
Jimin blinks in confusion for a moment, before remembering the crumbled paper in his pocket. “Oh, right!” He proceeds to rattle of the digits, and a relieved smile breaks out over Hoseok’s face.
He pulls the angel out of his seat, slinging an arm around his shoulders and marching towards the back door. “Let’s go meet Joonie!”
>♡<
Hoseok throws the door to his apartment open with a flourish, dragging Jimin inside.
It’s a modest dwelling, a lot more put together than Jimin would have thought considering the state of the building’s exterior. In the split second before the demon hanging on to him announces their arrival, the angel takes in the hurricane of paperwork strewn across the living room, occupying every inch of the floor and most of the furniture. Amidst the mess, a single whiteboard stands, sporting a plethora of illegible scrawls and rough diagrams that Jimin can’t hope to make sense of.
“Joon-ah, look what I found!”
The man standing in the middle of the living room jumps a little, the small army of floating pens by his side momentarily halting in their task of scribbling onto a stack of papers. He heaves a weary sigh, before turning to look at the intruders.
He stiffens when his eyes lock on Jimin, who tries for an awkward smile. The man flashes Hoseok a questioning look, to which the other demon just grins. He does that a lot, Jimin realizes, and his initial impression of the wrath demon seems unreal in the face of his sunny disposition.
“Namjoon, this is Park Jimin. Jiminnie, that’s Kim Namjoon, certified genius, and the second part of the three person ownership of this place.”
Jimin distantly wonders who the third person is, and then Kim Namjoon’s scrutinizing gaze lands on him and his thoughts stutter to a stop. There’s a powerful air about this man, subtle, unlike the raw anger that had radiated from Hoseok earlier, but no less jarring to be in the presence of. The way he’s looking at Jimin, eyes boring into his very soul, makes the angel want to hide away and gain his approval at the same time.
So he bends into a perfect, ninety degree bow, hands clasped politely in front of him. “It’s nice to meet you, Namjoon-ssi.”
When he looks back up, Namjoon’s mouth is turned down into a frown, though it’s directed at Hoseok. The demon in question claps his hands beside Jimin, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he squeals, “Isn’t he the cutest thing ever?”
Namjoon pins Hoseok with a look that the other returns with an expectant one of his own. When the staring contest doesn’t yield after a minute, he sighs, turning back to Jimin. “It’s nice to meet you too, Jimin-ssi. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m actually in the middle of a confidential project right now, so…” he trails off. Jimin can read between the lines.
Before he can so much as step outside the door and run back to the bar, which he fully intends on doing, Hoseok grabs his arm, holding him in place and staring incredulously at the younger demon.
“You seriously don’t know who this is?” Namjoon blinks at him blankly, and the wrath demon groans. “Doesn’t the name Park Jimin sound familiar to you? Tae talks about him in literally every conversation we have!” The younger demon just furrows his brows. Hoseok sighs in exasperation, and shoves Jimin forward pointedly. “Does Taehyung’s angel ring a bell?”
The demons jaw goes slack at that, mouth forming a quiet ‘oh’ as recognition flashes through his eyes. He stares at Jimin as though he’s seeing the angel in a new light.
“You’re Taehyung’s angel?”
And, okay, it was sort of sweet in a weirdly possessive way the first few times, but this whole ‘Taehyung’s angel’ business is getting a little annoying. Still, Jimin nods to the query, and Namjoon manages to pick his jaw off the floor after a few moment of gaping.
“Taehyung’s said a lot about you.”
Jimin gives him a tired smile. “So everyone keeps telling me.” He makes a mental note to have a talk with his best friend about his tendency to blabber on about potentially incriminating things without Jimin’s explicit consent.
Namjoon’s lips quirk up at the corners, sending him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, you must’ve heard that a lot, haven’t you?”
“You have no idea.”
His smile widens. The demon looks around, seemingly just noticing the explosion of papers around him, and scrambles to clear a place on the couch, inviting Jimin to take a seat. Jimin obliges. “So,” Namjoon quips, leaning forward in his own seat. “Tell me, Jimin-ssi; what brings an angel to the 4th circle of hell?”
Jimin opens his mouth to answer, but Hoseok beats him to it.
“Jiminnie’s here to help us break Yoongi hyung out of prison, believe it or not.” The demon beams, clapping the angel on the back. “Isn’t that right?”
Namjoon’s jaw drops. “You know Yoongi-hyung?”
Jimin shifts under the intensity of the gaze. “I do.” Then he launches into a short version of the last two months, minus all the grubby details, of course. By the end of it, the two demons are staring intently at him. The angel fidgets, clearing his throat. “So Tae said that I could help you get hyung out of the 9th circle?”
“Of course you can!” Hoseok says, smiling wide. “The more the merrier!”
Namjoon is less enthusiastic.
“I don’t know, Hobi…” he fixes Jimin with a thoughtful expression, carefully neutral. “Don’t you think it’s a little risky? I mean, we are technically about to commit treason, and, Taehyung’s angel aside, we don’t really know all that much about him.” His eyes shift to Jimin’s and he adds, “No offense.”
Jimin dips his head understandingly, but Hoseok isn’t having it.
“What do you mean we barely know him? He’s literally all that Tae talks about. I think I know more about him than I do about myself!”
“Kim Taehyung also has a tendency of letting his mouth get away with him. Besides, you know what I mean.”
“Clearly, I don’t,” Hoseok snaps. The demons are one step away from glaring each other down, and Jimin feels guilt rise up within him at the prospect of them getting into an argument over him. He clears his throat, continuing firmly when two pairs of each swivel in his direction.
“Please don’t fight.” He turns to look Namjoon in the eye, willing himself not to flinch. “Namjoon-ssi, I understand why you don’t trust me; we did just meet five minutes ago. But Yoongi hyung is important to me, and I’d just like to say that I’d never do anything to jeopardize his safety.”
Hoseok looks pleased at his words, nodding along. Namjoon, on the other hand, sighs.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Jimin-ssi,” he says carefully, mulling over his words before he speaks. “It’s just…you showing up to get Yoongi hyung out is a little out of left field. I mean, this is Min Yoongi we’re talking about.” The demon looks at him like that should be enough of an explanation. “It took us years to get past his walls, and he still shuts us out every now and then. And then you say you’ve known him for two months and you’re ready to risk your life to save him? I guess I’m just trying to understand why.”
There’s that question again. Jimin thinks it over only for a few moments.
“Because.” He swallows heavily, looking down at his lap, fiddling with the material of his shirt. “I think…I think I might be in love with him.”
The silence stretches on for longer than what Jimin’s comfortable with. He keeps his eyes averted, a bright blush quickly taking over his face.
I might be in love with him.
Even as he wonders if that was an appropriate thing to say in this situation, he finds that the words ring true. The revelation isn’t as world-altering as he’d expected, just the unraveling of a knot in his chest that he didn’t know had existed. The angel feels strangely at peace.
Hoseok is the one to break the silence.
“Well there you have it,” he pipes up, smiling devilishly at Jimin, who jumps a little at the sudden sound. “He’s doing this for true love. Are you really going to get in the way of true love, Namjoon-ah?”
Namjoon blinks slowly, looking more affected at the confession than Jimin himself. “I guess not,” he says after a moment, giving Jimin a rueful smile. “Welcome to the team, Park Jimin.”
Things go ahead smoothly from there on out.
The demons fill Jimin in on the plan, talking him patiently through diagrams and semantics. The gist of it is that Namjoon, who happens to hold a prominent position on Satan’s board of advisors (“Satan has a board of advisors?” “He’s thinking of transitioning from a dictatorship to a constitutional monarchy. We think it’s a phase.”), and thus has access to a plethora of high-level stuff including the layout of the 9th circle and security footage, is going to clog up the security system for a while, giving Hoseok and Jimin ample time to get into the tunnels that make up this particular part of the circle. They’ll take out any guards that they encounter on the way, and then Hoseok will stand guard while Jimin goes descends deeper to where they’re holding Yoongi, and uses his powers to break the demon-proof stygian chains.
(“By the way, why is Yoongi hyung locked up, exactly?”
The demons share a look. “You don’t know?”
“Not really. Just that he did something to get Satan mad at him.”
It’s a moment before they speak.
“Jimin, Yoongi is what we call a Retriever, or at least was until recently. Anyway, he’s damn good at his job, which is basically to infiltrate high security places and extract sensitive information. His last mission was to get into HALO’s HQ and steal the blueprints for a new weapon they’ve been testing out.” They watch his reaction carefully.
Jimin nods slowly. “That’s when he got caught. And then he ended up at my place.”
“Yeah. So after he recovered and left you, he went straight to Satan, told him off for being an inconsiderate bastard and planning the extinction of the angel race, and turned the blueprints to ashes on the spot.”
“Oh.”
“You can assume that the big guy didn’t take kindly to that. So here we are, planning a suicide mission to go save his tactless ass from eternal damnation. That is, if you’re still up for it?”
Jimin doesn’t need to think twice. “Of course I am. When do we go in?”)
>♡<
Eternal damnation isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.
Two weeks into his designated punishment, Yoongi can confidently attest to this.
While being suspended over a giant pit of hellfire via stygian iron chains isn’t his ideal way to spend the foreseeable future, it’s nothing to cry his eyes out over either. Yeah, his restraints dig painfully into the chafed skin of his wrists and ankles, and the hellfire hardly helps his freshly healed burns…
But, really. It's not that bad.
He’s been through a lot worse, namely being shot out of heaven.
The demon jolts in his constraints as a particularly vicious flare of heat licks up his bare torso, hissing in pain. Okay, so maybe that's not entirely true. He would definitely prefer being stuck upside down inside a giant block of ice instead, the most common form of penance for wrongdoers in the 9th circle. But no, his boss would much rather see him suffer the fate of pot roast.
The evil bastard. He knows Yoongi doesn’t do well with fire.
Yeah, Yoongi admits that, in hindsight, he could’ve gone about the whole confrontation fiasco a little better (like, did he really have to blow up the stupid blueprints in Satan’s face?), but this is just plain mean.
Then he remembers that diplomacy has never been his style (that's Namjoon's forte), so he might as well suck it up for as long as it takes the big guy to get over his insubordination and reinstate his position, because they both know that he’s the best damn Retriever in the underworld.
Besides, he reasons, hanging around doing nothing for eternity is every sloth demon’s dream come true. He has nothing to complain about.
Now, if he could just get his thoughts off of one Park Jimin, he’d be set for eternity.
The demon hangs his head, screwing his eyes shut as the angel's face invades his mind yet again. He’s honestly not sure it’s ever left.
So he misses the boy. He gets that. After over a month of cohabitation, it’s only natural to feel his absence. Factor in the newfound feelings that he cannot, for the life of him seem to suppress, and his thoughts veer towards the angel far too often for his liking. But this, this is just torture.
Yoongi tries to ignore them.
And fails miserably every single time.
It’s not his fault. His brain is working against him, the memories of the time they spent together streaming through his mind on constant replay, like a cruel, never-ending PowerPoint presentation.
Sometimes, he stops fighting it.
Sometimes, he allows the ghost of Jimin’s touch to soothe the ache, imagines his sweet soprano lulling him to blissful unconsciousness, fingers running through his hair as he cleans his wounds, handling him with such care that Yoongi feels like he’s going to cry.
“Yoongi hyung?”
The voice rings loud and clear, a replica right down to the twinge of concern. Yoongi doesn't know if he should commend his mind for the likeness or toss it into the raging fire below for the bittersweet reminder.
It takes him a long moment to realize that the sound came from outside his head. He blames the heat.
Yoongi’s eyes snap open, blinking through the fuzziness to alight on the figure standing before him.
And he stares.
He knows that voice, recognizes that face like his own. But this creature standing in front of him looks like something that crawled straight out of his deepest, darkest, wildest fantasies. And Yoongi cannot deal.
Smoky eyes heavily lined with kohl look back at him through thick lashes, full lips a gorgeous crimson, parted ever so slightly. A choker adorns his neck where his halo is situated, a combination of leather, steel and lace that have his eyes quickly trailing further down, only to choke on his spit.
A sheer, billowy material hangs off his torso, with a neckline dipping down to his navel, showcasing his rock-hard abdominal muscles and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. The dark washed skinny jeans clinging to his muscular thighs aren't any better, hanging deliciously low on his hips, ripped tastefully to allow him teasing glimpses of soft, golden skin.
If Yoongi had a soul, he reckons it would’ve long fled his body.
He watches in a state of awe as the boy frowns, throws a furtive glance over his shoulder, before producing a ring of keys from his jeans, levitating them over to his bonds. He hardly reacts when his body is engulfed in Jimin’s influence, lowering him carefully past the roaring pit, far too engrossed in the sinful scenarios playing out in his head, starring him being tied up somewhere, and Jimin, slinking over his body, hips moving sensually in those revealing jeans as he bites his lip, trailing a hand down his chest to palm at himself, looking him straight in the eye as his mouth falls open in a moan—
No. Nope. That train of thought needs to stop right there.
It’s a long moment before he blinks.
“Angel?”
Jimin looks up from where he’s kneeling on the ground, unchaining Yoongi's ankles. His tongue peaks out briefly to wet his plush lips, the demon's gaze zeroing in on the movement, before he holds up a hand, lips parting. “Before you say anything, I’m still mad at you. Just so we’re clear.”
Of course. Yoongi pulls his mind out of the gutter, dragging his gaze back up. He has every right to be angry after Yoongi left him sans explanation like he did. He wouldn't be surprised if the angel never wanted to see him again. It was kind of the intention of the whole thing. Which begs the question,
“Why are you here, then?”
The boy tosses the chains aside, straightening up. “Because you don’t deserve this. Namjoon-hyung told me what you did, and you don’t deserve to be punished for it.”
The demon stares. This. This is why he had to leave. He doesn’t deserve someone so fucking good.
“What’s it going to take for you to understand, angel?” He scoffs, forcing the words out. “I thought I made myself clear the last time, but maybe I should’ve just fucked it into you instead. See if you’d come to your senses then.” It takes a lot of willpower for him to not punch himself in the face, keeping his voice even and his eyes cold.
“Stop.” The angel has his eyes closed, pretty face twisted in a pained frown. The expression tugs at heart. “Don’t…don’t say things like that when you don’t mean it.”
He barks out a laugh.
“Oh? Did Namjoon tell you that too?”
“No. I figured it out myself.”
The demon huffs, looking away when the angel’s eyes focus in on him. “Good for you. Now go away, you’re interrupting my eternal damnation.”
Jimin’s jaw clenches stubbornly. “I can’t. I’m here to rescue you.”
“Who the hell said I wanted to be rescued?”
“You want to stay here?”
Hardly. But it’s an infinitely better alternative than listening to his brain and actually going with Jimin. Yoongi shoots him a weak glare. “I made my decision, angel. I took your advice, tried to do the right thing. Look where that got me.” Locked up 6000 feet under and still disgustingly head over heels.
Jimin looks indignant. “I never asked you to run away and get arrested!”
Fair point.
The demon clears his throat, looking away. “Yeah, well. It doesn’t matter. If I leave now, I’ll be running from both HALO and Satan for the rest of my life. Makes for a shitty existence, don’t you think?”
He thinks it’s a compelling argument, but the boy isn’t deterred. “We’ll figure something out. Just…come with me.”
Yoongi wants to. God does he want to believe the angel, to believe that there exists a future in which they can be together. He really, really does. But that’s nothing more than wishful thinking.
He hardens his gaze. “No. You have one minute to turn back and walk out of here, or I’m calling the guards.”
Jimin makes a frustrated noise, stepping towards him. “Hyung—”
The demon is done with this conversation. He sucks in a breath, making as if to yell out. He sees the flicker of panic in Jimin’s eyes and thinks he’s won, but the next thing he knows, the crooked rocks of the cell wall are digging into his back, a hand clamped firmly over his mouth.
Yoongi stares wide eyed at the angel, who seems just as surprised by this turn of events, frozen as he is against him. And then something shifts in Jimin’s eyes, and he watches with bated breath as the younger’s gaze drops to his hand on Yoongi’s mouth, watches as he removes the appendage slowly, soft fingers gliding over the demon’s lips almost curiously. His hand comes around to cup Yoongi’s jaw oh so gently, and then he’s leaning in, plush lips pressing softly against his.
The demon’s brain shuts down for a moment.
It’s Jimin. Jimin’s here, in the flesh, kissing him against the wall of his cell. It’s Jimin, looking like that, asking him to go back with him, pressing their lips together, when he’d long since resigned himself to never getting to kiss him again.
He exhales sharply, breathing Jimin in, and then he’s kissing back, mouth moving fervently against the angel’s. Jimin sighs against him, melting into his touch, and Yoongi wastes no time in prying his lips open with his tongue, licking deep inside. Jimin’s fingers dig into his bare shoulder, but he cradles the demon’s face carefully, like he’s something precious, something to be cherished.
It snaps something inside the demon.
In a flash, he flips them around, pressing the angel into the wall with a growl, sealing their bodies together. The position has their crotches rubbing deliciously, and Jimin moans softly, the sound going straight to his groin. Yoongi takes the opportunity to force his tongue deeper into his mouth, tasting every inch of the hot cavern, memorizing it all down to the way Jimin’s fingers feel carding through his hair, tugging unconsciously. He allows his own hands to drift away from the angel’s waist, running down his toned chest, kneading the meat of his thighs, touching everything he’d never thought he would get a chance to ever again.
"Fuck, angel," he breathes, trailing over the soft skin just above his waistband, fingers dipping further to caress the jut of his hips. Jimin whimpers, his hands going lax in Yoongi's hair, fighting to hold on. Through the haze of Jimin’s arousal, the demon registers the shallowness of the angel’s breaths, realizing with a start that he hadn’t been moderating just how much he took.
He pulls away abruptly and Jimin sags against him when, held upright only by the wall and Yoongi's hands on his waist. His eyes are barely open, red lips slick with spit, parted to aid his heaving lungs. A feverish flush covers his skin, beading with sweat.
“Are you okay?” Panic flares up inside, Yoongi’s hand comes up to cup Jimin’s face, searching his eyes frantically. Jimin doesn’t respond, blinking sluggishly up at the demon, and he grows more insistent. “Angel, talk to me,”
“’m fine,” the angel mumbles after a moment. Yoongi can tell that it takes a lot of effort, and curses his carelessness.
“You should have told me,” he mutters, staring at the panting boy. “Fuck, why didn’t you tell me it was too much?”
Jimin’s head lolls to the side. “Not too much. ‘m fine,”
Yoongi can hardly believe his ears.
“The hell you are,” he seethes, glaring daggers at the angel. “I could’ve fucking killed you, angel.”
Jimin only shakes his head, not a twinge of concern on his face. Like he isn’t completely at Yoongi’s mercy right now, utterly unable to fend for himself if he were to try anything. Like he, for some godforsaken reason, trusts him.
It warms his heart and makes his blood boil at the same time.
Yoongi wrenches Jimin’s hands off of his shoulders where they’d been holding onto him for support, dragging them up to pin them to the wall above his head. The angel doesn’t protest, merely blinking up at him curiously.
The demon meets his gaze with a heated glare.
“Are you even listening to yourself?’ he hisses, eyes wild. He’d almost hurt Jimin. The angel never should have come here. “What the fuck were you thinking, waltzing in here like that, looking like the fucking epitome of sin? I could’ve killed you, godammit! Fuck,” he breathes, dropping his head onto the angel’s heaving chest. “You…you have no idea, angel, the things I want to do to you.” He tilts his head a little, lips brushing lightly over Jimin’s collarbones, feeling the skin heat up as he peppers soft kisses along his neck, punctuating his words. “Strip you down here and now, take you right up against this wall. Make you scream my name until it’s the only thing you remember. Shit, I could fucking ruin you, angel, and you’d be helpless to stop me.”
His voice takes on a hint of desperation, willing Jimin to understand.
It takes the angel a moment to reply. “You could,” he says, voice breathy but far more lucid than it was before. “But you won’t.”
Against all odds, there’s that unwavering belief again.
With a growl that’s bordering on maniac, Yoongi bares his teeth, sinking them into the soft skin at the juncture of Jimin’s shoulder, hard enough to break skin. The boy lets out a cry, eyes screwing shut as his head falls back against the wall, whimpering as the demon sucks and laves at the abused skin.
Once he’s reigned in his frustration, he pulls away from the blooming mark to bring his face level with the angel’s. “And what if I did? What then?” he questions, eyes searing into Jimin’s.
Jimin blinks at him a little dazedly, a pretty flush high on his cheeks, before tipping forward in Yoongi’s grasp to press a chaste kiss to his lips, returning his gaze dead on.
“Then I would let you.”
Fuck.
Yoongi pulls away abruptly, shaking his head in defeated disbelief. He swallows deeply, throat running dry, as he stares at the angel. “You…you’re something else, angel,”
Something else entirely.
Jimin peels himself off of the wall at that, eyes hopeful. “Does that mean you’re coming with me?”
The demon snorts, turning around.
“No.” He starts walking towards the exit anyways, the boy quickly falling into step with him, only a little shaky on his feet. “I’m making sure you get out of this place alive. Then I’m going back to Satan and requesting a cell transfer. Preferably one that’s more…angel-proof. “
The angel frowns at this, but follows after Yoongi regardless.
>♡<
They’re making their way through the maze of tunnels, Yoongi silently stewing in his thoughts as Jimin trails obediently behind him, when the younger finally speaks up.
“Hyung, can I ask you something?”
Yoongi grunts in response, keeping his eyes on the winding path lest they lose their way. Perhaps if he’d looked back to see the glint in Jimin’s eyes, he wouldn’t have been caught so off guard.
“Why did you leave?”
The question’s been a long time coming, but the demon still falters in his steps. The angel comes up to walk beside him, and for a moment Yoongi contemplates ignoring him. But then he catches sight of those eyes, and the words just come tumbling out.
“Because I was scared.” He cringes at the admission, cursing the boy’s ability to somehow make him lower his guard. Any hope that the younger hadn’t heard him disappears when he frowns, tilting his head.
“Scared? Of me? Why?”
Well. He’s already dug his grave, might as well lie in it.
“Because,” he snaps, eyes trained on everything but Jimin. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
The angel looks a little miffed, voice taking on a tinge of exasperation. “But you won’t hurt me, hyung.”
When Yoongi finally looks over, he’s genuinely curious when he asks, “Why are you so sure about that?”
Jimin huffs. “I know you think I’m some naïve kid, hyung, and yeah, I’m not as experienced about these things as you are, but even I know that you care about me, at least a little.”
Whelp, isn’t that the understatement of the year.
“Conceited, aren’t we?” he drawls to distract from the slight warming of his face.
The boy is about to reply, brows furrowing in indignation, when his gaze falls on something over the demon's shoulder and his eyes go wide. Yoongi whips around; the highly suspicious fact that they hadn't encountered any of the dozens of guards patrolling these tunnels suddenly hitting him like a sledgehammer, but it's far too late.
There’s a blazing pulse of energy hurtling towards him at breakneck speed, making evasion an impossibility. Dimly, he wonders if a blast to the head would make for a quick, painless death.
And then all he sees white. It engulfs his vision, the color reminiscent of winter's first snow, clashing starkly against the dark glow emitted by the cracks in the rocky walls around them. It’s beautiful, he thinks, wonders if this is the proverbial light they talk about at the brink of death.
A pained gasp jerks him out of his thoughts.
Yoongi blinks, looking over to find Jimin standing protectively beside him, lips parted in a soundless cry. A little to his side, right in front of the demon’s face, a rich crimson taints the expanse of white.
It takes him a second to realize what happened.
In an instant, the gawking guards who’d ambushed them are thrown against the wall, the demon responsible for the blast dragged up into the air, clawing desperately at his throat as Yoongi makes to crush his windpipe, blinded by rage.
They hurt Jimin.
They hurt his precious angel.
How fucking dare they?
“Hyung, don’t,” the voice breaks through the haze of red clouding his vision, and Yoongi turns just as Jimin stumbles into him, abandoning his pursuit as an all consuming worry grips his heart. He wraps his arms around the angel’s waist, and the boy holds on gratefully, gradually lowering his wings from their defensive stance, cringing with the movements.
Yoongi doesn't know what to think, yet his mind is racing a mile per minute.
"Angel," he says, pulling him close. A mass of bloody feathers mars his right wing, the effects of the blast spreading slowly but surely across the appendage. “Shit. Shit, Jimin. You—shit.” The angel is sagging against him now, pulling them both down to the ground. The demon hardly notices, fumbling to do something, anything to fix this. “Just…just hold on, okay? Everything’s going to be fine, hyung will get you out of here—”
“Hyung—”
“—so much blood, why is there so much blood? Fuck, it’s getting worse—”
“Hyung, listen—”
“—so stupid.” Yoongi turns to Jimin, eyes wild. “What the hell were you thinking, angel?”
“I wasn’t, okay?” the sudden outburst makes the demon stop in his tracks, taking in Jimin’s angry face, flushed with perspiration. He swallows thickly before continuing. “I saw the blaster aimed at your head and I reacted. I…I don’t want you to get hurt either. It was stupid, I get it, but panicking isn’t going to solve anything.”
Yoongi breathes in deep, trying to compensate for the momentary lapse in his bodily functions. Jimin’s right. What’s done is done, and if he wants to ensure that the angel gets out of this alive, he’s going to have to stay focused.
Jimin is watching him warily when he opens his eyes. “Okay. You’re right. No panicking.” Another deep breath, and he wracks his brain for a way out. He needs to get Jimin out. But he can’t do it by himself. There’s a ridiculously high wall fencing the perimeter of the caverns, and despite the riveting make-out session they had, he’s not strong enough to fly a grown man over it. Nope, he definitely can’t do it alone. “How did you get in here anyway? Did you come alone?”
The angel shakes his head, wincing a little. “No. Hoseok hyung’s standing guard just inside the wall. I was supposed to meet up with him after rescuing you.” Then he seems to catch Yoongi’s drift, shifting on the ground. “Ah, in my pocket. There’s a communicator.”
The demon doesn’t waste a moment, grabbing the device an switching it on, yelling at a very surprised Hoseok to get his butt over here as fast as he can, Jimin’s dying, and god, he needs him here five minutes ago!
Jimin groans against him, the full effects of the blast manifesting in his brain now that the adrenaline has worn out. Yoongi can imagine the pain; demonic blasters are just as deadly to angels as their counterparts are to demons.
“So stupid,” he mutters under his breath, fingers stroking gently along the pristine feathers in an effort to comfort the angel, all the while praying for Hoseok to get there before it's too late.
The demon perks up when he hears faint sounds of a scrimmage a few tunnels down, and suddenly the temperature rises in the already stifling cavern as a torrent of flames emerge from the opening in front of him, parting to make way for a furious Jung Hoseok.
The bubble of rage around him simmers down as he approaches, features twisting into a mask of concern as he drops to his knees beside them.
“Jimin! Are you okay?” he asks, but the angel can do little more than whimper in pain. The younger demon turns to Yoongi, eyes probing. “What happened?”
Guilt floods into his system like a relentless flood. He averts his gaze, jerking his chin in the direction of the injured boy.
“This idiot came between me and a demonic blaster.”
Hoseok’s eyes widen, and he looks back down at the ugly mass of ruined feather with a frown. “Shit.”
Yoongi agrees. The guilt is suffocating, waves washing over him over and over again, reminding him that Jimin is dying and it’s all his fault. Roasting over a pit of fire was the least he deserved. Numbly, he extracts an arm from within the angel’s grip, trying to push him in Hoseok’s direction.
“Get him out of here, Hobi.”
Two pairs of eyes turn to him, but he keeps his gaze on the ground.
“No!” Jimin cries out all of a sudden, and the hold he has around the demon grows stronger despite his rapidly weakening state. “I’m not leaving without you.”
Yoongi meets him with a blank look. “Don’t be ridiculous, angel. I don’t plan on leaving, and if you stay down here any longer, that blast is going to spread past your wings, and then you’ll be dead.”
“Then I guess that’s what’s going to happen.”
Honestly, after everything they’ve been through, the demon should have expected that he wouldn’t make this easy for him. “Angel,” he growls. “We fucking discussed this. I made my choice—”
“—And I’ve made mine.” The angel interrupts, eyes shining with challenge. “It’s either we both stay down here and I die, or you come back to earth with me.”
Yoongi feels his eyes flash red. He opens his mouth to tell the stupidly stubborn angel off, but Hoseok beats him to it.
“As much as I hate to interrupt this lover’s squabble,” he quips, glancing over towards the tunnels. “We’re kind of on a clock here. Jimin doesn’t have much time left,”
“You try explaining that to him—”
“So, stop being a difficult dickhead, hyung, and listen to the kid already.”
The elder demon snaps his head to his friend, mouth falling open in betrayal. Hoseok has the nerve to wink at Jimin, before he turns back to give Yoongi an impatient look. Clinging onto his side, the angel is looking up at him with those eyes, lips set into a determined pout. He holds strong for a commendable amount of time, before the combined weight of their gazes breaks him.
“Fine,” he hisses, glaring at the cavern walls in an effort to ignore the victorious grin adorning the angel’s face. Hoseok claps his hands, springing up to his feet with a gleeful smile, offering Yoongi a hand up.
“That’s great, hyung. Because I kinda might have tripped the alert on my way in, so we really, really need to get out of here before Namjoon’s impromptu board meeting with Satan comes to an end and the big guy realizes what we're up to.”
To be continued...