Work Text:
The rain is partially shut outside when Mark closes the door of the old building – because it couldn’t really be called a house, though he knows that if he ever said that out loud someone would love to argue – but still, through the holes all around the ceiling, the droplets find their way to wet Mark’s hair. Mark shakes his head, feels more than sees the way some of the water from his head splashes around, he shudders, the cold wind hitting him. Fetching his phone from his back pocket, he notices it’s half past eleven meaning that at anytime his migraine would materialize behind him.
Mark Lee’s migraine has long legs, soft golden skin, ambar eyes and plump red lips.
Being nineteen, fresh out of high school, one would think all Mark had to worry about was college entrance exams, maybe – if it was one of his aunties – if he found some nice girl to take home yet. Of course, Mark also thought that was all the worry he would have, except, fate had other plans.
When the clock hit midnight in the dawn of his nineteenth birthday, Haechan came into being in the middle of his room.
Mark, just like every other sane human being, was startled, he remembers reaching out for his old baseball bat, holding it as firmly as he could given his shaky hands. “W– who the fuck are you?” He had asked, making Haechan giggle behind his hand, his long nails were painted black, or so Mark thought it was nail polish at the time. “And how did you– how did you do that?” He waved the baseball bat around.
Haechan had crossed his legs, combat boots dirtying his bedsheets. Back then, Mark didn’t know his name, he kept referring him as “weird hot boy”. “I am here to take what was promised me exactly a hundred years ago.” His voice was not at all what Mark expected, he waited to hear a deep scary voice, but weird hot boy sounded almost whiny, lazy in the way he spoke.
“What was it?” Mark had asked.
“Your soul.”
Now, Mark is twenty-one. He doesn't live with his parents anymore, and doesn’t have to force a smile when one of his aunties asks him about a girlfriend. Mark does share a room with Jaemin though, who could – if he wanted to – be as noisy as an old aunt. Now, Mark Lee is used to Haechan, the demon who, for a lack of better words, owns his soul.
For a long time, six months to be exact, Mark had gone through denial. It couldn’t be real, demons weren’t real, his great great great great grandmother or whatever the correct term was couldn’t be a bad witch. Witch whom, by the way, commited a really bad crime – Mark hadn’t asked for details – and ended up needing to give something to an even more powerful demon, in exchange for shelter, protection. She could’ve promised the demon anything, and she chose to promise him Mark’s soul.
Well, not Mark’s soul, but the soul of the grandchild who would turn nineteen a hundred years from then.
Haechan is the demon of greed and luxury, his eyes change colours based on how well feed he is, his nails are long and permanently black, not nail polish Mark had discovered, and his skin is so heated it actually burns. Though, Mark has learned how to deal with the subtle pain.
“Missed me?” Mark jumps, startled by the sudden voice that echoes through the walls, as he had been lost in thoughts. He turns on his heels right on time and watches, mesmerized, as Haechan appears for him, flesh and bones and gorgeous, gorgeous plump lips. “Minhyung.” Haechan says, tongue curling carefully around every syllable.
Mark lets out a breathe he didn’t realize he was holding. “D– don’t call me that.” He whines and reaches out for Haechan, hand greedy to touch him again after a month without seeing him, at least not in person – Haechan is a powerful demon, the most powerful if Mark does says so himself, and for that he can’t come see Mark everyday, he can’t materialize all the time, though never before he spent so much time away, so Mark had to settle for the feeling that took over his being when Haechan was around, not possessing him per se, but almost, and listening to Haechan’s voice inside his head – but his demon held up a hand, stopping him.
“I am still too hot.” Haechan reasons. “I just came back.” From hell , Mark’s brain completes.
“How is it going down there?” He asks, hand still up, waiting for Haechan’s permission.
“You know it isn’t actually down–” Haechan sighs. “Everything is as it should be.”
Mark nods, wincing when he feels another raindrop sliding down his neck. “Missed you.”
“I know.” He says, getting closer, Mark notices his eyes are red, he must be starving. “I heard you when you whimpered my name. Every time.”
Mark flushes a deep red. “Shut up.”
Haechan laughs. A drop drips from the ceiling and hits him in the cheek, water in fire, a small puff of smoke rises from the contact. He really must be hot.
“It’s okay. I am here now.”
Mark moves first, hands trembling as he holds the handrail and climbs up stairs carefully, he feels Haechan’s eyes glued to his back.
The second floor of the house is even more precarious than the first floor, there are holes in the ground, in the ceiling that’s barely holding up, the only thing that properly works in there is the one and only lamp beside the bed. And the bed is good, too, soft and warm.
Rationally, he knows he won’t ever get hurt as long as Haechan is around, he has a feeling that even when Haechan is down there he still finds a way of protecting Mark’s wellbeing, but still walking around the place scares him to the core.
Mark takes off his jacket, throws it on the floor, not really caring about it. He feels as if he’s been locked in a dark room for the past month and now, finally, he’s free to stare at the sun.
“Take of your shoes.” Haechan reminds him. “You know I hate it when you ask me to take if off for you when we are getting busy.” He sounds amused, like he’s teasing, but Mark knows he’s hungry, so he probably wouldn't like it if Mark said ‘stop, stop, get me out of my shoes first’.
Mark blushes, sitting down at the edge of the bed to kick his black chuck taylors off his feet. “How long will you stay with me?” He asks as he makes himself comfortable and rolls on the bed until he’s properly settled. “Or, if you leave, how long will you stay away?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” Haechan comes closer, hovering over Mark, forearms on each side of Mark’s head. Close, but not touching. “I missed you too, by the way.”
Then he leans in, kisses Mark and finally. Mark feels like every nerve in his body is a bare wire as he throws his arms around Haechan’s neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. It's chaste and soft at first, Mark knows it's more because the demon is holding back for him so Mark will feel it building up slowly, just the way he likes it. Soon enough, though, Haechan's hot, hot tongue teases and flicks Mark's top lip until Mark opens up his mouth and invites him in.
The first time they kissed, on a windy night months after the demon’s first visit, after Mark had gathered all the courage to finally ask what it meant to have his soul owned by a dark creature – it meant Mark Lee was his to do as he pleases for the rest of his life. To feed him and serve him. No negotiations. – , it happened fast. One second they were sitting on the bed, facing each other. The other, Mark was on his back, Haechan straddling his thighs, tongue deep inside his mouth. Mark had liked it. Obviously. His whole body ached for more. But then, he stopped it. “Can we do it slowly?” He had pleaded, eyes honest, lips bruised. The demon had looked at him, confused at first, but then Haechan nodded and kissed him tenderly for the rest of the night.
The feeling of Haechan's hand on his skin is too hot, burns in a familiar and delicious way, makes him whimper against his lips. Haechan moves his mouth to Mark’s jawline, moaning against his soft skin. “You taste so good.” He has his eyes closed, but Mark knows him well enough to know the red must be giving in to the ambar colour Mark loves so much.
“Feed off me.” Mark whispers. “I want you to.”
Donghyuck kisses him again and it makes Mark's toes curl. His hands drop to Haechan's ass at the same time his legs fall open to accommodate the demon in between them, comfortably. He closes his eyes and blushes when Haechan brings one hand down to pull up one of his legs around his waist.
"Tell me when to stop." The demon whispers quickly before he kisses Mark so intensely Mark's brain short circuits. He never, ever, wants Haechan to stop. Mark sneaks a hand under Haechan's shirt, touching him lightly at first so his hands will get used to the hotness of his skin, it burns his fingertips and he hisses, or moans, he’s not so sure.
He presses his fingers on Haechan’s skin, basking in the burning sensation.
“Careful.” Haechan says, and sinks his teeth into Mark’s bottom lip. Mark, this time he’s a hundred percent sure, moans loudly and arches against Haechan, who isn't as broad as Mark is, but still is a powerful demon and exudes an aura of competence that makes Mark feel small.
He whines and whines until Haechan bites him again, and again and again. Mark tugs on his shirt and Haechan giggles. He kneels in between Mark’s leg and takes off the shirt. Mark keens.
“I love your skin.” Mark says. Reaches out to touch, hungry fingers exploring Haechan’s chest.
He sits upright, as straight as he can considering his lack of flexibility, and kisses his demon’s collarbones, whimpering when the hotness burns his lips. “Careful, come on.” Haechan says softly, looking right into Mark’s eyes.
Golden skin, golden eyes.
“You know I like it.” Mark teases, tongue mapping out Haechan’s skin carefully, he mouths all over his chest, bites his left nipple lightly. “Please.”
“Say my name.” Haechan says.
“Haechan.”
The demon laughs. “Call me the other way. The human one.” He explains, his hands pulling Mark’s shirt off him, fingernails scraping his belly. “The one I only told you about.”
Mark closes his eyes. “ Donghyuck. ”
He growls and kisses Mark, bruising his lips, making him moan in pleasure and pain.
When Mark turned twenty, Haechan and him were cuddling in the same bed and the demon whispered: “I had. I have an human name. Korean, like yours.” Mark had been ecstatic. “Tell me” He begged. Calling Haechan by his demonic name was hard for Mark, especially when they were being intimate, when the demon was feeding off him and all Mark wanted to do was be with him. “Donghyuck” he had said and Mark would never forget.
“Mine.” Donghyuck says and Mark is in love. Mark Lee, twenty-one, is in love with Haechan, the demon of greed and luxury that feeds off his energy, his pleasure and his pain.
Mark Lee is in love with Donghyuck, especially when they are kissing and when Donghyuck searches for his hand. When Donghyuck is with him, flesh and bones, lazing on his couch while his roommate cooks ramen. Jaemin knows he should ask no questions when Donghyuck is around.
Mark nods, grinding his hips up searching for something else, hungry for the warmth. “I’m yours. Donghyuck, Donghyuck, I am yours.”
After an eternity of kissing, Donghyuck disappears and reappears by the door. Mark wants him back, his mouth on his skin and his smell surrounding him. “I didn’t ask you to stop. I can keep going.” He sits up. “You know I can.”
Donghyuck doesn’t want to kill Mark, that’s why he always stops even if he’s not completely full.
That’s why he always says “tell me when to stop”, because he trusts Mark will tell him when his head starts to feel too light. Mark is greedy, he never tells. He wants Donghyuck to feed off him completely every time, he wants more and more and more.
“I couldn’t keep going.” Donghyuck says, then. “I’m not as controlled as you think I am.”
Mark bites his lip. “You wouldn’t kill me.”
Donghyuck nods. “That’s why I stopped.”
“Just one more kiss.” Mark makes grabby hands. “Then we can cuddle and you can tell me what Rénjùn did now that made you disappear down there for a month.”
“It’s Renjun, not Rénjùn .” Mark’s demon rolls his ambar eyes. “And I already told you hell is not down anywhere. It’s as up in the sky as heaven is.”
“I don’t know if I trust you. Kiss me so I can be convinced.” Mark says. Suddenly, he’s got his lap full of Donghyuck. “Can I ask you something?”
Donghyuck hums, nodding.
“You like it when I call you by your human name?”
“I do. A lot. It makes me feel like it’s normal. What we do.”
Mark bites back the ‘ it is normal ’ that tries to escape through his lips. He knows it isn’t. He knows it’s actually pretty dangerous.
Every time they kiss, Donghyuck borrows something Mark will never get back. Every time Mark aches for him, it only reaffirms what Mark already knows: he’s cursed.
Donghyuck continues. “And I feel like you want to be with me. Truly.”
Mark makes a sound deep in his throat. “I do want to be with you truly, you know that. You are not making me do it. You are not like that.”
“I am a demon.”
“B– but you wouldn’t do that. To me.” Mark says. “If it was like that you would have had me in the first day.”
He feels Donghyuck’s warm hands touching his face softly. That wasn’t the first time they had discussed about it, about the fact that, because he was owned by Donghyuck, Mark couldn’t say no. Mark knows though that even if Donghyuck is a demon, a dark creature from hell, he would never do that . Donghyuck is good. He is good and Mark would die trying to prove it to God himself.
Mark knows he could say no, knows he could just deny and Donghyuck would find someone else to feed off. The demon probably has a line of cursed humans waiting for him, thinking they are lucky to have something to offer because Mark knows how good it feels when Donghyuck licks his skin. He had asked once and Donghyuck had said “no other human tastes, feels and sounds as good as you do”. Mark takes pride in that. He prides himself in being Donghyuck’s.
The demon could’ve forced Mark in their first meeting, or in all their meetings after that. Instead, he waited until Mark felt it: the urge to have Donghyuck with him, surrounding him. Donghyuck used to say he could feel the desire burning inside Mark when Mark tried, in vain, to hide.
“You are right.” Donghyuck says, kissing Mark’s temple. “I am not like that.”
“Kiss me again.” says Mark. “I love– love kissing you.”
Donghyuck knows how Mark feels. Obviously, because Donghyuck knows every single thing about Mark. If he tried, he could even read Mark’s mind. But he would never do that without Mark’s permission. His demon knows how he feels, what he wants, if he’s lying. Donghyuck hears the way Mark’s heart beats faster when they lock their lips, when Donghyuck holds his hand, when Donghyuck calls Mark his.
Mark never says it aloud. He fears that, if he does, Donghyuck will realize that Mark is just one of the thousand useless humans Donghyuck has at his feet. Mark’s soul is just one in the ocean of cursed souls Donghyuck owns.
He is nothing special, he is nothing.
“Stop that.” Donghyuck reprimands. “I know what you are thinking and it is not true.”
Mark looks at him. “I thought you didn’t read my mind.” He turns his face slightly, lips searching. Donghyuck sighs knowing exactly what he wants and presses his thumb against Mark’s bottom lip.
Mark doesn’t waste any time, opening his mouth and sucking on Donghyuck’s finger.
“I don’t have to read your mind to know what it means when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?” Mark mumbles, Donghyuck’s finger still in his mouth, his tongue curling around the digit.
“Like you think I don’t care about you. I care about you Mark Lee. If I didn’t–” He pulls his finger out of Mark’s mouth and before Mark can whine about it, Donghyuck replaces his finger with his own tongue. The kiss is messy and wet and Mark’s desire wakes up and turns into fire in his veins. “I care so much. So much about you.” He says against Mark’s lips. “I shouldn’t. I don’t know how that happened.”
Mark whines loudly. “Please.” He pleads.
“No.” Donghyuck says. “Be good, my useless human.”
Mark flops onto the bed. “You are mean.”
“You weren’t that set on dying when we started.” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. “I remember how careful you used to be when kissing me.”
“I didn’t know how good it felt.” Mark blushes. “I didn’t know how good it felt to almost die in your arms.”
Donghyuck’s ambar eyes darkens. “You will only die when you are old enough to do so.”
“When I’m ninety?” Mark teases.
“Maybe ninety-eight.” He laughs, eyes shining with amusement.
“Am I gonna be a virgin until then?”
Donghyuck sobers up. “You can find someone else, you know that, right? Someone who won’t kill you if they fuck you.”
Mark winces, not used to hear such words coming from such sacred lips – because Donghyuck is sacred to him. “I don’t want anyone else.” Mark tells him, hands coming to hold tighly on Donghyuck’s waist. “And I don’t want you to want anyone else either.”
“Then let me have you for longer.” Donghyuck says, and Mark knows it was meant to sound like a plea more than an order. “I don’t know how I let you have so much power over me like this. You realize you make me beg not to feed? I want to have you for longer. You are more than just a meal, you understand? If I fu– if I give you what you want, I’m going to kill you. I will eat you whole. I will feed off all your energy, suck the life out of you. You will die.”
Mark swallows. “I– I understand.” He closes his eyes and hides his face on his demon’s neck, warmth spreading all over his face from the heat of Donghyuck’s skin, he inhales his scent and swallows down a needy whimper. “I just want you so much...”
“Mark you must not forget I am not good for you. Even if you think I’m good, I am not . I will only bring disgrace into your life.”
“I know what it means to be cursed.” Mark says. “I am not stupid, I know you are a demon and I am your slave and that you own my soul and everything else you told me years ago and still, kissing you makes up for all that.”
The demon scoffs, long fingernails scratching Mark’s chest, circling his nipples. “You are really crazy. You are… I don’t think Minhyeo knew you would turn out to think her curse was a gift.”
“That’s what being gay means.” Mark jokes. “I just really, really like boys.”
Donghyuck massages his nipples, rubbing slowly. Mark gasps. “You are so sensitive.” And Mark moans, making Donghyuck’s eyes shine even brighter, still feeding off Mark’s pleasure.
Knowing that Donghyuck is turned on, Mark throws his arms up and holds the headboard, arching on his back until Donghyuck stops rubbing his nipples and starts kissing his chest. “Tease.”
Mark smiles and wriggles, wanting more of what Donghyuck is willing to give. Donghyuck bites and sucks on his chest, bruises bound to blossom on Mark’s smooth skin.
He groans, one of his hands comes to hold the back of the demon’s head against him, Donghyuck’s hair is soft and, unsurprisingly as heated as the rest of him, smells faintly of smoke and Mark basks in it.
A loud noise, a thunder, shakes the weak walls of the building making Mark wince in fear. Donghyuck raises his head and looks at Mark.
This way, Mark can see his eyes glowing, his lips are slick with spit and slightly puffy, his skin feels hot and looks almost reddish from the heat, now with Donghyuck turned on like this Mark can make out the shape of his horns under his skin, one of each side of his temples. Mark knows that when Donghyuck is Haechan, not really ruling hell but that’s what Mark thinks he does down there anyway, his horns are always out in the open. Mark has never seen them, not because he doesn’t want to, but because Donghyuck says that he loses his humanity – what little humanity he has while in Mark’s company – when he wears them out.
Mark throws his legs around Donghyuck’s hips to bring him closer at the same time Donghyuck puts his left hand on Mark’s thigh, the other holding himself up. “Does the rain scares you? I can make it stop.”
Until the last sentence Mark had busied himself with trying to, somehow, find some friction in his lower area, though Donghyuck had been holding him back. Hearing that makes his ears perk up. “You can what now?”
“Make the rain stop. It will cost me a little energy, you will have to moan for me a few times again, but I can do it.”
“Like I would object against you making me moan.” He rolls his eyes.
Haechan – because his eyes are changing, his iris totally black and his horns are trying to tear his skin apart and Mark shudders, not wanting to feel scared but also having the normal reaction given the fact he had a real demon with black eyes and smoke coming off his skin above him – says something under his breath, voice deep like it never is and the rain stops abruptly.
When he opens his eyes again, they are no longer black nor ambar, the reddish colour taking over although not as red as it was a few hours ago.
“Oh my god.” Mark cries out and Donghyuck winces. “Ops, sorry about that one. You made the rain stop for me.”
Donghyuck smiles. “Of course. Now, about these moans you are owing me?”
Mark Lee smiles as his demon stares hungrily at his lips. “Feed off me.” Mark says and – filling Mark with power to the brim – Haechan lowers his head and obeys.