Archive of Our Own

The poster on the wall has been up for centuries, you think.

Handpainted, the size of a modern A4 sheet of paper.

The copperplate script along the bottom says, God is watching YOU!

It’s sarcastic, of course, but it gives you insight into the mindset of the man you’re waiting to see now.

Lord Kim Seokjin, demon of Narasus, the latest progeny of a long line of demons, a bloodline so pure it’s practically an aristocracy.

You look down at your attire and wonder if you should have freshened up before this meeting.

You’re deciding if you would look better with your t-shirt knotted at the waist when you realise Lord Seokjin’s made an appearance.

‘Yes,’ he says, simply.

Both your eyebrows rise.

‘Yes, you would look better with more of a waist,’ he clarifies. 

Your lips thin into a straight line.

‘Thank you for your opinion,’ you say. You take a moment to cloak your mind, pointedly visualising heavy oak doors slamming shut in his face.

He looks amused. 

It suits him, but then everything does. He’s been blessed with the beauty of the most exalted of demons. 

Perfect skin, a patrician nose, the height and shoulder breadth of a man built to turn heads wherever he goes.

He smiles. ‘Thank you,’ he murmurs.

‘Get out of my mind,’ you growl. 

He looks delighted. ‘That was just an educated guess, pet.’

You can feel embarrassment and anger rising in you like a tidal wave.

You are descended from fire demons, and you wish it weren’t a cliche but you’re as hot-headed as they come. Prone to acting before you think, lashing out at everything and everyone.

Your quick temper’s exactly what’s landed you in this mess.

You’d walked into a situation where Kim Seokjin’s brother, the equally beautiful Kim Taehyung, had growled at you to mind your business as he cavorted amongst a mixed group of sirens, mortals and the odd fallen angel. 

You would have excused yourself if you hadn’t spotted, amongst them, one of your little brother’s friends. 

Jeon Jungkook, fresh faced, wide eyed and uncorrupted despite the fact he’d grown up around your demonic little brother. 

You’d marched into the fray, grabbed Jungkook by the arm and were about to leave with him in tow when Taehyung had drawled, ‘Leave him, he’s having a good time.’ 

You’d scowled at Taehyung and continued on your way. 

A moment later, a firebolt had flashed past your face. 

Without thinking about it, you’d invoked an inferno. 

It’d been the equivalent of using a hammer to kill an ant. 

You’d got Jungkook the hell out of there, and three days later, you’d been summoned to Lord Seokjin’s presence. 

At least Jungkook’s out of trouble for a bit, you think ruefully. 

To the demon lord now eyeing you inscrutably, you ask, ‘How’s your brother?’ 

Lord Seokjin tilts his head. ‘Taehyung is fine. For the record, he didn’t throw that firebolt at you.’ 

You’re surprised. 

‘It was a young demon called Mansun. Apparently he wanted to show you he was a worthy apprentice.’ 

‘By burning my face ?’ 

At your retort, Seokjin grimaces slightly. ‘He’s an idiot.’ 

You let his comment sit between you for a minute. 

‘The fact is, your inferno, impressive though it was, could be seen as a move against the Kim family, and I can’t let it go unpunished. You understand.’ 

He sounds almost reasonable. 

‘Get Taehyung to stop corrupting Jeon Jungkook and we’ll call it even,’ you bargain. 

Seokjin stretches out a long finger, flicks through an old-fashioned Rolodex. You’re certain it’s for dramatic effect rather than that he needs to look anything up. 

‘I’ll come up with the deal, if that’s ok with you,’ he says, eyeing the contents of the Rolodex.

It’s not really a question.

‘There’s an incel down in the South who’s been harassing women online that you could mentor?’ he suggests. 

You blanch. ‘No thank you.’ 

Seokjin raises an eyebrow, flicks through a few more contacts. 

‘Corrupt politician using state money for personal gains?’ 

You snarl. ‘That’s all human politicians. And most of the demonic ones.’ 

‘Ah,’ says Seokjin. He smiles at you, and it feels more like you’re caught in a web. ‘This then.’ 

You look up at the image he’s projected onto the wall, above the ‘God is watching YOU’ poster, and start shaking your head. 

‘No, I’ll take the incel,’ you say hastily. 

Seokjin shrugs, ‘You said no to the incel and the politician. This is what I have left.’ 

The image is of a tall man with a broad forehead, hooded eyes, and a smile that shows off frankly adorable dimples. He’s dressed in the workwear uniform of office workers everywhere. Gold-rimmed glasses sit perched on his nose. 

He looks so much like an IT guy he’s almost a parody of one. 

He’s the worst demon you’ve ever heard of, and that’s saying a hell of a lot. 

‘Please,’ you plead. ‘Don’t make me take on Kim Namjoon.’ 

Seokjin smiles at you, his beauty at odds with the steely look in his eyes. ‘I’ll send through some details. You have thirty days.’ 

‘Or what?’ you’re almost afraid to ask. 

Seokjin’s eyes glow rich amber with the depths of his demonic lineage and depravity. 

‘Or I send you to the depths for a hundred years.’ 

You’re outraged. ‘That’s not a proportionate response to an inferno. Especially when one of yours tried to firebolt me in the face .’ 

Seokjin is unmoved. ‘If you wanted fairness you should have sided with the angels,’ he tells you. 

To be fair, he’s not wrong. 

***

Kim Namjoon is the worst demon you’ve ever met. 

He comes from a family of stealth demons - known for their intelligence and strategising. 

With their collective knowledge and nous, they could easily manoeuvre themselves into a position of power. 

However, they seem to be completely oblivious to this and seem content to live alongside humans in their mundane lives. 

You hear his parents took out a bank loan to pay for their mid-size four bedroom house. 

A bank loan!

For something that’s barely an aspiration for a stealth demon. 

You scowl at the crowd of jostling masses on this commuter train. 

It’s ass o’ clock and here you are because of Kim Namjoon. This is the train he takes to work everyday from his house in suburbia, and this is the carriage he tends to enter, closest to the exit at his destination station. 

You look up as the doors slide open and he walks in, pushing his glasses up his nose, heading for the back of the carriage where you’re waiting. 

He stands, he always does, towering over the other commuters, taking out his phone to scroll.

His coat gapes open enough for you to see the basic white shirt he’s got on underneath, the sensible black leather belt holding his navy trousers up, the leg creases sharp. 

His brown leather shoes aren’t new but they’re well taken care of. 

The image of him polishing his shoes in his suburban home and carefully ironing creases into his pants amuses you. 

The train stops abruptly, and you take the opportunity to fall forward into his chest. 

He lets out a startled huff, and his arm comes up to steady you. 

‘Sorry,’ you say, smiling at him apologetically. 

You’re not sorry at all. 

Also his chest is more solid than you thought it would be. 

He glances at you. ‘Don’t worry about it.’ 

He’s about to lift his phone back up when you drop your own phone by his feet. 

‘Oh my, I’m so sorry,’ you say. 

Like you planned, he bends over obligingly to pick it up for you, and you bump heads with him as he straightens up. 

Now you’re both apologising profusely. 

‘Are you ok?’ he asks, seeming genuinely concerned, hand wrapped around your upper arm. 

‘I’m fine,’ you say. 

‘I hit you pretty hard,’ he says. He’s still holding your phone, and there’s something about the expression in his eyes that makes you feel strange. 

Queasy. 

Why is he so concerned about you? You’re not used to it. 

Also, he’s a demon, for crying out loud.

‘I’m fine,’ you start to snap, then remember you’re meant to be trying to orchestrate some time with him. 

To remind him that he’s a demon from a family of demons and that he has better things he could be doing with his time than slumming it with the technologically challenged masses. 

‘I’m sorry,’ you say, softening your tone. ‘I’m a mess before morning coffee.’

He smiles. ‘That’s ok.’

You flick your gaze to the status screen above your heads. His is the next stop.

‘I get off at the next stop, otherwise I’d get you a coffee,’ you say, letting your tone at the end of your sentence rise, like a question.

He blinks at you like he’s never been hit on before. 

Jesus fuck, you hope he’s not a virgin. 

You smile up at him, turn up the heat emanating from your earthly form a notch.

‘I like coffee,’ he says.

‘Great,’ you purr. ‘I’ll get you some.’ 

***

Kim Namjoon enthuses over the ethical practices supporting the Costa Rican plantation the coffee beans are from and takes his coffee black in a reusable metal flask.

He’s so human you can practically hear him wondering if he should tip the barista even though the coffee’s on you.

‘Where do you work?’ you ask, wondering if he’ll display any self-consciousness at all admitting he works in insurance when he’s a stealth demon.

He smiles at you, and the pretty dimples bracketing his mouth make you scowl.

He smiles even harder, and you decide there’s no hope for him. 

Behind him, outside the glass window of the coffee shop the poster on the wall of the bus stop flickers and Lord Kim Seokjin’s beautiful face appears. He raises an eyebrow at you, and several passersby stop to admire his beauty.

Sullen, you ignite a small fire in the trash can beside the bus stop. 

Lord Seokjin just shakes his head, a warning, and fades out of view.

You realise Namjoon is still talking to you, as though anyone in the history of heaven or hell wanted to know more about any insurance job ever.

You flutter your eyelashes at Namjoon. ‘Do you work out? Gosh, your biceps are as big as my head.’

Namjoon laughs like you’re joking, so you double down.

‘You’re really big,’ you say. ‘Do you do Crossfit?’

Namjoon laughs again. ‘I work out a bit.’

You hesitate. ‘This probably seems a bit bold, but one of my New Year’s resolutions is to ask for what I want, so I’m just going to go ahead and say it.’

Namjoon waits.

‘Do you want to go out to dinner with me tonight?’ you ask.

You brush your foot against his leg under the table, accidentally on purpose. 

He hasn’t replied, so you act like you’re disappointed. 

‘Oh my god, I can’t believe I just said that,’ you say, feigning embarrassment, sneaking a glance at him. ‘I’m sorry. Listen, it was nice to meet you, Namjoon.’

You get up from the table, and he reaches for your arm.

‘I’d like that,’ he tells you, like you’re just two humans trying to find a connection instead of a stealth demon pretending to be human and a fire demon with a debt to pay under duress. 

Despite yourself, you’re charmed by his sincerity.

***

You could probably wear more clothes, you muse, as half the restaurant turns to look at you when you enter.

It is predicted to be sub zero tonight, after all.

But you are a fire demon, you run hot all the time, and you only have a measly 30 days to awaken Kim Namjoon’s inner stealth demon, so here you are.

You send a flicker of heat to the clay pizza oven as you pass it on your way to where Namjoon’s already seated, making it flare.

He stands when he sees you, pushing his chair out with a clumsy hurriedness that would endear him to you if he were Jeon Jungkook.

Unfortunately, he’s not, and you need him to demon up, pronto.

You lean forward to entice him to look at your tits, but he’s so polite his eyes haven’t dropped below your neck.

‘Namjoon,’ you purr in greeting. ‘You look great. I love pizza.’

‘The chef worked in Naples for 20 years,’ Namjoon informs you. ‘He’s very good.’

You feign interest in the menu. ‘What would you recommend?’

As he goes off on an eager explanation of his favourite dishes, you let your gaze wander around the intimate restaurant.

A couple a few tables away catches your eye.

Is that…

You scowl when you realise that the demon on a pretend date a few feet away is Lee Minsu, one of Lord Kim Seokjin’s favourite henchmen.

He’s probably been dispatched to keep an eye on you.

Against your better judgement, you light his tablecloth on fire. 

You’re delighted when a passing waitress tries to put it out with a glass of red wine, resulting in a giant flambe effect.

Opposite you, Namjoon gets up, picks the fire extinguisher off the wall, and promptly extinguishes the fire.

Ignoring the cheers, he returns to his seat and gives you a stern look over his glasses.

‘Behave.’

You’re a picture of slutty innocence.

‘You’re not subtle, are you?’ he mumbles, shaking his head. ‘I heard fire demons were impulsive, but I didn’t expect this.’

Now you really are confused.

‘Wait, you know what I am?’

‘You were hiding it?’ he counters, gaze flicking over the tiny top you’re almost wearing.

‘I didn’t expect you to know anything about fire demons,’ you stutter.

He fixes you with a penetrating stare.

‘You do know that I’m a stealth demon?’

‘You look like an insurance drone,’ you say, out of sheer petulance.

‘Since we’re being honest, what do you want from me,’ he asks, brisk.

For the first time since you met him, you’re intrigued.

‘I always wanted to fuck a stealth demon?’ you volunteer.

He scoffs. ‘Please, if a fuck was all you wanted we’d already be doing it. Like I would ever turn you down.’

You’re surprised, and ridiculously flattered.

‘I wanted a free dinner?’ you stutter, trying to make yourself tell the truth when all you’ve done is lie so far.

‘I’m paying,’ Namjoon snaps. His eyes narrow behind his glasses. ‘If you tell me the truth I’ll get you dessert.’

You look up at the ceiling and seriously contemplate invoking another inferno.

‘Fine. I need your help,’ you mumble.

You cringe and cover your face.

He’s completely silent until you peek through your fingers at him.

‘What exactly do you need my help with?’ he asks.

He sounds bemused.

‘Can we get out of here?’ you ask. ‘We’re going to need more wine.’

Namjoon sighs. ‘Come on. I know a place.’

***

You’re intrigued by the seedy dive bar he takes you to. It’s dark and smoky, and teeming with magic and glamour, elevating it above its sticky floors and busted up tables.

Behind the bar, an unwelcoming-looking demon greets Namjoon with a brisk jerk of his head and a scowl. 

‘Usual?’

You’re so busy trying to work out what kind of demon he is that you’re caught off guard when he turns to you.

‘Take a picture, lasts longer,’ he advises you. 

Ah.

He’s a reflector, a demon who reads minds and manipulates thoughts.

Your own mind is already cloaked, but he smirks at you like he can read it. 

‘He thinks you’re hot as fuck. Make him beg for it.’

‘Shut the fuck up, Yoongi, whose side are you on,’ complains Namjoon.

‘I’m on the side of the chick who can burn this entire place up,’ Yoongi replies. He pours out two drinks, slides yours across the bar to you. 

‘I’m sure you’ve heard reflectors are the best,’ he says.

You stare at him, and he smirks again.

‘I get off at 2. Come find me if you want me to answer the questions in your eyes, pretty girl.’

Namjoon picks up his drink.

‘There’s a space round the back where we can talk,’ he says. 

You trail behind Namjoon through the bar, to a table near the back.

He waves you into a seat, raises an eyebrow at you.

‘Do your insurance buddies know you go to places like this?’ you ask.

He stares hard at you, muscle ticking in his jaw.

‘Why is everyone from the demon realm so interested in my family?’ he mutters. ‘Who gives a fuck if we choose to live as humans?’

‘You could be more,’ you say. You wave a hand, sweeping. ‘You could be running the world instead of hanging out in shitty bars like this.’

He uses his index and pinky fingers to push his glasses back up his nose, a gesture so natural you know he does it all the time.

You can’t resist.

‘Why do you even wear glasses? Demons don’t have vision problems. I mean, even humans have lasix.’

He’s still glaring at you, jaw clenched. 

‘Why do you presume you know more than me about what I want?’

You blink at him, genuinely perplexed. ‘You want to wear glasses?’

He growls and stands, looming over you.

‘I was willing to hear you out, but you’re just like every other demon I’ve ever met.’

You wonder where he’s going with this.

‘I don’t care what you need from me. You’re not getting it. Go back to the demon realm.’

He brushes past you and storms away.

You’re getting up to chase after him when a shadow falls across your table.

It’s Lee Minsu.

‘Kind of busy,’ you snap.

He reaches out and grips you by the neck, so hard spots dance in front of your eyes.

‘Lord Seokjin wanted to send a reminder,’ he utters.

He drags you away.

***

It’s a day or so before you recover from the smackdown dealt by Lord Seokjin’s henchman enough to attempt to approach Kim Namjoon again.

You’re already standing at his usual spot when he gets on his morning train.

He glances at you and takes a space at the opposite end of the carriage. From the frown on his face you know he’s spotted you.

You wait until he’s lifted his newspaper up before you light the page on fire.

He slaps the newspaper briskly on the side of his trousers, putting it out. 

He glowers at you and mouths a stern ‘Stop it’ from across the carriage.

You wonder if you should tell him he looks especially hot when he’s irritated.

He’s still glaring at you, so you take it as an invitation to weave your way through the commuters to him.

‘Aren’t you Kim Namjoon?’ you say, feigning surprise. ‘You sold me home insurance last month!’

You’ve pitched your voice loud, you’re the noisiest person in this carriage full of early morning commuters, and you can see more than one person looking at you and Namjoon with interest.

He forces a smile that looks more like a grimace.

‘I wanted to know,’ you say blithely, crowding him, obtrusively close, ‘Does the insurance cover fire damage?’

The corner of his lips twitches for an instant.

You blink at each other.

Finally he sighs. ‘Why don’t you come with me to my office and we can check the policy.’

***

You haven’t been in an insurance firm office before, and really you haven’t missed anything.

You glance doubtfully at the hard-looking office chair opposite Namjoon’s scuffed-looking desk.

Namjoon stands by the glass door, arms crossed in a way that makes his biceps and shoulders look huge.

You take your cue from him and stay standing.

‘I have a client coming in, in 15 minutes,’ he says, pointedly.

‘You were way more fun before you realised I was a fire demon,’ you grumble.

He just stares at you.

‘Lord Kim Seokjin,’ you say, when you realise he’s really counting down. ‘I pissed him off and he gave me a task to do or get sent to the depths for a hundred years.’

‘What did you do?’ 

You’d been expecting him to ask about the task.

‘I invoked an inferno,’ you say. You can hear the defiance in your voice. ‘Kim Seokjin’s brother was influencing a friend of my brother’s and when I went to confront him one of his friends tried to firebolt me in the face.’

You’re still outraged. ‘In the face!’

He shakes his head but you’re not convinced he’s on your side.

‘And the task?’

You take a moment to toss your hair, stick a hand on your hip and cross one leg in front of the other to make your skirt hitch up a bit.

Yoongi had said Namjoon thought you were hot.

Every little counts.

You bite your lip, and for an instant, his gaze flicks to your mouth.

‘He wanted me to convince you to embrace your hidden demon and return to the demon fold.’

You wrinkle your nose, forgetting yourself for a moment. ‘I didn’t realise it’d be quite so hidden.’

His lips twitch, and, encouraged, you take three big steps so you’re pressed up against his front.

Oop, too close.

You take a step back so you can see his face without craning your neck.

‘I have a month. Well, twenty six days.’

Namjoon’s staring at your mouth again.

He tilts his head down, and you wonder if he’s a good kisser. He has pretty lips.

His hand lands on your shoulder, and he unceremoniously spins you round and frog marches you to the door of his office.

‘Good luck,’ he says.

You spin back round just in time to catch the door closing in your face.

***

You really weren’t made to be a morning commuter, you think sourly to yourself as you get onto Namjoon’s train the next morning.

He’s ignoring you completely, which is an achievement because you’ve chosen a dress with a neckline that he can look down, given his height advantage.

You tilt forward a little, and his gaze remains firmly fixed on his phone.

‘I’m pregnant,’ you announce, loudly.

Namjoon starts and looks at you so guiltily you know you’ve just caught him in the middle of a sexual fantasy about you.

Bingo.

You pretend not to notice that everyone close to the two of you in the carriage is looking at you. 

Namjoon straightens up, clears his throat, but still sounds a little shrill when he says, ‘Do we know each other?’

So that’s the way he wants to play it.

‘You said you’d call me after that night but you never did,’ you say, making your lower lip tremble.

‘Did you lose my number?’

The tips of Namjoon’s ears are reddening before your very eyes.

‘I’m sorry?’ he mumbles, without conviction.

The middle aged woman next to him shoots him a dirty look.

‘You came in me five times,’ you cry.

Namjoon chokes on air. 

‘I’ve never slept with you,’ he says, truthfully.

It’s so unconvincing you almost laugh.

Instead, you burst into tears.

A moment later Namjoon’s hand clamps down on your upper arm and he drags you off the train.

‘Really?’ he complains. ‘I’ve been taking the same train for years and now you’ve embarrassed me in front of everyone!’

‘And yet no one vouched for you,’ you say thoughtfully.

He looks apoplectic. 

‘You’re hurting my arm,’ you lie. 

He lets go of you so quickly you almost lose your balance.

‘What do you want from me?’ he pleads.

‘I need help. You’re a stealth demon. Help me find a solution.’

You think you sound completely reasonable.

‘Fine,’ he snaps. ‘But stop pulling these stunts.’

‘I’m on a time schedule,’ you point out.

He looks at you thoughtfully. 

‘If I don’t find a solution you get banished to the depths for a hundred years?’

‘I can cause a lot of chaos in your life in twenty five days,’ you warn. 

He scowls. ‘I need time to think. Give me three days.’

You roll your eyes. ‘Fine. I’ll be back in three days.’

***

In reality, it’s closer to five days later when you walk into the dive bar Namjoon took you to when you first met.

You’ve been busy, caught up in one of your brother’s skirmishes with a clan of canids.

Your arm itches, and you scratch it absently as you stroll up to the bar and wait for the reflector to notice you.

You’ve dressed as provocatively as you can, but the only ensemble that would cover the bite marks a particularly vicious canid you battled gave you iis made of material that makes you itch.

Still, though, the top is low and the pants hug your butt like a second skin so you think it’ll be enough to catch Namjoon’s attention.

‘Here.’

The reflector, Yoongi you think his name was, slides a drink across the bar to you.

‘Namjoon usually gets here around nine,’ he says.

‘Thanks,’ you say.

‘No problem. Don’t forget, I finish at 2.’

He smirks, and you laugh. ‘I won’t forget.’

He nods, his dark eyes lingering on your face a moment before he moves on to serve someone else.

You choose a seat with a view of the door, purposefully turning your back on a group of switch demons messing around at the pool table.

Even so, it’s barely ten minutes before you’re approached.

‘Can I get you a drink?’ 

‘No thanks, I’m waiting for someone,’ you reply.

You make brief eye contact with the switch demon before turning back to your drink.

‘My friends and I were talking about how hot you are.’

You nod. ‘Hot enough to burn,’ you say, a warning.

Switch demons are known for their mercurial tendencies and their unpredictability, but not for their brains.

‘I’m Jed,’ the switch says, holding out a hand.

Now you’re annoyed. ‘I’m not interested,’ you snap.

‘A girl could always use friends in a place like this,’ Jed says, sounding irritated now rather than oily.

‘I’m not a girl,’ you tell him. ‘I’m a fire demon, now leave me alone before I burn you into jerky.’

Jed’s eyes narrow at your threat, and you’re about to create an inferno when you remember where you are.

Yoongi’s been nice to you, you can’t burn up his bar.

‘Ugh. Let’s take this outside,’ you say, getting up.

Jed grins at you like he really thinks you’ve been won over by his stupidity.

He ogles your butt as you stand, and you’re just assessing how flammable the shirt he’s wearing is when you hear Namjoon’s voice.

‘Where are you going? he asks. ‘Let’s go in the back.’

‘We’re kind of busy,’ says Jed.

You think longingly of your power and wonder if there are any fire doors in this seedy joint.

‘Yeah, nah,’ says Namjoon.

He steps between you and Jed and grips your arm firmly.

‘Let’s go.’

You cast a glance behind you and burn a hole in Jed’s shirt as Namjoon leads you away.

He yelps, and Namjoon sighs. 

‘You know I’m a stealth demon. I’m not one of those animal demons with super strength.’

You’re confused.

‘I can’t fight off a group of switches,’ Namjoon says, patiently.

‘Oh,’ you say. It hadn’t even occurred to you that Namjoon might try to fight them on your behalf. 

‘I can burn them, don’t worry,’ you say, reassuringly.

Namjoon rolls his eyes as he gestures you into your seat.

‘So what’s the plan?’ you ask brightly.

Namjoon says, ‘I spoke to one of our family contacts. He verified your story. He also said there’s nothing we can do to help you.’

Well that’s disappointing.

You frown. ‘Surely there’s something you can do to help?’

Namjoon says, gently, ‘I’m sorry.’

You wonder if that’s really the case.

You lean over the table between you, and reach out to touch his arm.

‘Nothing?’ you ask.

Namjoon’s skin warms under your touch as you stroke a finger up the corded muscle in his forearm.

‘Where did you get this muscle?’ you purr. ‘Not from that desk job.’

You get up and walk around the table, slide into his lap.

His thighs are unexpectedly solid underneath your ass.

He shifts a bit, distributes the weight of you more evenly, and you lean into his chest.

His pupils dilate as you brush your lips against his jaw, soft like a caress.

‘Let’s talk about it some more,’ you whisper.

***

It’s dark in Kim Namjoon’s bedroom, well you don’t know if he sleeps here but there’s a bed and he’s wasted no time in getting you on it.

You sigh as he kisses a warm trail down your neck, from the corner of your jaw to the hollow between your collarbones.

‘You’re so hot,’ he murmurs, sliding his hand down your side.

This is no time to be shy.

You shimmy your top off, breaking a kiss to pass it over your head, and Namjoon pulls you closer eagerly.

His fingers press into the worst of the bites from the canids, a deep bite over your shoulder blade, and you hiss in pain.

He lets go instantly. ‘Are you ok?’

You grimace, glad he can’t see your face in the dark.

‘I’m good, take your shirt off.’

At first you think he’s complying, then you realise he’s turned on a bedside lamp.

A Snoopy bedside lamp.

Huh.

You realise while you’ve been deriding his taste in furnishings, he’s been staring at your bra-clad upper body.

But not at your tits. 

He grasps your arm with a gentleness that surprises you.

‘You’re hurt,’ he says. His dark eyes search yours.

‘Canids,’ you say. ‘My brother got in a fight, I helped him out.’

You glance down at yourself. 

‘I heal quickly,’ you inform him. 

Namjoon gets up, walks over to the dresser and comes back with an oversized, soft looking white tee.

‘Here. Put this on.’

‘Wouldn’t you rather I took more clothes off?’ you ask, confused.

He looks like he’s debating with himself internally. 

‘Of course,’ he says, finally. ‘But you’re hurt. Let me put some ointment on those bites.’

‘Demons don’t need human medicine,’ you say, petulant.

He raises an eyebrow at you. ‘It would be a spanner in the works if you came down with a raging infection before convincing me to join the demon realm, wouldn’t it?’

You consider your options.

‘I guess that depends,’ you concede, carefully. ‘Would fucking your brains out right now convince you to join the demon realm?’

He’s put his glasses back on so you know he means business. 

‘Put that t-shirt on so I can put antiseptic on you,’ he says. 

He turns his back on you, and the outline of his still impressive erection makes you pout.

‘Can we play doctors and nurses?’ you ask hopefully.

He doesn’t even turn back around.

‘Shut up and come downstairs. My first aid kit’s in the kitchen.’

***

You’re sitting between Namjoon’s legs, trying to hold his shirt that you’re wearing up so he can get to the bites on your back, but it keeps slipping out of your grasp.

He leans you forward to get closer but not in the way you’d envisioned at the start of the night.

‘I’m taking this off,’ you complain, as the soft material slips down again.

You shuck the tee over your head and Namjoon sucks in a breath but says nothing as he keeps applying the ointment onto your skin.

You have to admit it feels nice, soothing and cool on your heated skin.

‘Put your head down,’ Namjoon advises.

‘Between your legs?’ you ask, but it’s halfhearted.

Sitting with him draped over you on his huge couch like this, his warm hands on you as he applies antiseptic, you’re so comfortable you’re sliding into sleep. 

‘You can close your eyes,’ Namjoon says, sounding exasperated. 

‘What are you going to do?’ you ask, going for teasing but not quite managing it. 

You’re the fire demon, but he’s so warm you feel like you’re burning up. 

You like it. 

Namjoon’s voice sounds like it’s coming from further and further away as he holds you down with the flat of his palm.

‘Stay still.’

His voice is so deep, you think dreamily.

You wonder what he sounds like when he’s fucking.

You think you’re mostly asleep now but you need to say it.

‘Don’t send me to Lord Seokjin when I’m sleeping,’ you say.

You crack open an eyelid, when did you close your eyes?

Namjoon’s looking at you, his brow furrowed.

He hasn’t answered, so you try again.

‘I don’t want to go to the depths.’

Namjoon sighs. His hand smooths along the skin of your back.

Is he rubbing your back? When did he start doing that?

‘Please,’ you say.

Namjoon’s other hand comes up to smooth your hair away from your face.

His thumb brushes over your cheek briefly.

‘I won’t.’ 

‘Make you sorry if you do,’ you warn him through a yawn.

He mutters something that sounds like ‘I’m the sorry one’ and you want to ask him what he means but he pulls you into his arms, against his chest, and then you’re gone.

***

You wake with your face pressed against Kim Namjoon’s chest.

Your hand is splayed along his torso, and you like how he feels under you.

You let your fingers trail down his side, stop at the waistband of his sweatpants.

Stare in fascination at the bulge tenting the grey material.

You’re never been one to resist temptation.

You inch your palm towards his groin and his hand comes up to capture yours.

You look up to see him raising an eyebrow at you.

‘Just wanted to see,’ you say.

‘Don’t start something you can’t finish,’ Namjoon says. 

His deep morning voice makes the decision for you.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ you assure him.

His hand tightens over yours for a moment, then he lets go.

You slide your hand under the waistband of his sweats.

‘No underwear,’ you note approvingly.

He starts to explain but you reach down and grasp him firmly, and it turns into a groan instead.

‘It’s ok,’ you tell him.

You tilt your head up in time to catch his expression as you curl your fingers around the girth of his cock.

‘I know you want to fuck me.’

His teeth sink into his plush lower lip, and he hisses, low, as you stroke up.

‘Yeah,’ he admits. The heat in his eyes makes you hum. ‘You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you.’

He’s filling out under your hand, hardening more with each pass of your fingers as you stroke him.

‘Show me,’ you murmur.

‘Shit, like I could hide it,’ he utters.

His hand wraps around yours around his cock, he’s so hard now he makes your thighs squeeze together.

The veins in his hand and forearm stand out as he helps you jerk him off. 

You’re about to lean down and take him in your mouth when he sits up and pulls you underneath him.

He’s heavy, the thighs pinning you down thick with muscle, and when he rolls his hips against you his cock presses between your legs like a promise.

For once, you have no wisecracks at the ready.

He grasps your chin.

‘You’ve been teasing me for so long,’ he says. ‘Being such a brat about everything.’

You open your mouth but he covers it with his hand.

‘You know how hot I think you are,’ he muses. ‘But you know what?’

He lowers his face to yours, lips brushing against your ear, the rasp in his voice making your eyes close.

‘I know you think I’m hot too,’ he says. 

He nips at your earlobe, and you moan into his fingers.

‘You want this, don’t you?’ he taunts, rolling his hips between your legs. ‘Want me to fuck you.’

He removes his hand to kiss you, open mouthed, wet, his tongue licking into your mouth. He’s good at kissing, and as you kiss his hands stroke over your body, lighting fires on your skin everywhere he touches.

He slides a big hand up your thigh, grips your ass cheek and pulls you up so you’re positioned perfectly to take him.

‘Yeah?’ he asks, cocking a brow at you with his cock poised, his tip just against your folds.

‘Yeah, fuck, do it.’

His lip curls up, a dimple flashes at you, and he eases his cock into you.

He’s slow, careful, and for a wild moment the image of him ironing creases into his pants pops into your head.

‘Stop making fun of me, we’re fucking,’ Namjoon growls.

You’re startled. ‘You read minds?’

‘Not really, you’re just easy to read,’ Namjoon replies.

He’s moving now, lifting your thigh up so he can fuck you deeper.

‘I don’t iron,’ he says, as he pulls out and rocks his hips against yours again. ‘I take my clothes to the drycleaners.’

You reach up and grab his ass to pull him deeper.

‘Shut up and fuck me,’ you advise.

He grunts. ‘Thought you’d never ask.’

***

Namjoon’s messy, you think to yourself. Sloppy. Unexpected considering his day job but you don’t mind.

He’s got a hand curled around his still impressively erect cock, his other hand thumbing the side of your mouth to wipe away the smudge of cum he just spurted at you.

You push the tip of your tongue out between your lips to lap at the tip of his dick, and he hisses. 

‘You’re a good girl,’ he praises. ‘Look at you still wanting to taste.’

‘You’re all over me,’ you say, not that you’re mad about it. 

He’s spilled cum down your throat, in your cunt, there’s even cum in your hair but he’s fucked you so well you’re too spent to do anything about it.

‘Yeah,’ he agrees. He rolls out of bed, loses his balance a bit, staggers as he heads for the door.

You’re impressed he can still walk.

He comes back a couple minutes later with a glass of water.

‘Here.’

He lifts it to your lips, and you’re too surprised to do anything but drink.

‘I’m a fire demon,’ you remind him, after you’ve gulped most of it down.

‘Tell me something I don’t know, you’re warm as a forge,’ he says mildly. Somewhere in his journey to the kitchen to get you water he’d found the time to put his glasses back on.

He’s got a hand on your bare thigh, squeezing gently. 

‘Are you sore?’ he asks. 

He looks like he’s really waiting for an answer, and your heart does an unexpected skip in your chest.

You don’t think anyone you’ve fucked has ever asked before. You are a demon after all. No one ever minds a little pain.

He brushes your hair back from your cheek softly.

‘Answer me, baby. I’m getting worried.’

You look at him. ‘I’m fine.’ 

You turn your cheek away from his hand. ‘Stop petting me.’

He lowers his hand. ‘Sorry.’

You look around for your clothes. 

Namjoon asks, ‘Can I get you anything?’

You smile ruefully. ‘A way out of my deal with Lord Kim?’

He’s quiet, and you nudge him. ‘It’s fine. I’m just looking for my clothes.’

You’re almost all the way dressed by the time he speaks again. 

‘I want to help,’ he starts.

You can hear the ‘but’ even though he hasn’t said it.

He looks so ill at ease that you don’t have it in you to pursue it right now.

‘Like I said, maybe we can talk about it another time.’

You pick up your jacket. ‘See you.’ 

‘Wait. Can we meet again?’ 

He’s getting up now, and you can’t stop yourself from admiring how good he looks shirtless. 

‘Sure.’

‘It’s my birthday in a couple days. I’m throwing a party here. I’d like it if you could come.’

You’re surprised. You’ve never celebrated a birthday before. 

‘How human,’ you say, more curious than mocking.

He smiles, tentative. ‘It’s a barbecue…’

You raise an eyebrow.

‘There’s a fire pit in my backyard…’

You’re trying not to smile but he’s smiling at you, all dimples and bare chest, and you can’t quite manage it.

‘Fine. But don’t expect me to get you a gift.’

***

You tell yourself you’re only here because you need Namjoon to help you, but you’re starting to think that’s not true.

You’re standing by the fire pit with one of his uncles, watching Namjoon as he tries unsuccessfully to wrangle one of the many small children at his birthday party.

He has a huge family, you’ve never seen so many stealth demons in one place.

Namjoon’s uncle Jihoon tsks as he lifts a charred steak off the grill. 

He looks at you grumpily.

‘I’m a fire demon, not an industrial oven,’ you retort, but you temper the fire he’s cooking on anyway.

He side-eyes you, but you ignore him in favour of watching Namjoon.

He’s dressed more casually than you’ve ever seen him, but you guess you’ve only ever seen him in work clothes or butt naked so you don’t have that much of a handle on his wardrobe.

The blue shirt he’s got unbuttoned over a white tee and jeans suits him.

You’ve never seen his chest and shoulders look so broad.

There’s a platinum chain draped between his collarbones, and it catches the sunlight, drawing your attention like you needed more reasons to look at him.

Fuck, he’s hot when he’s not selling insurance and denying his stealth demon heritage.

You tune back in to catch Jihoon in the middle of a rant about your fire skills to one of Namjoon’s other uncles.

Namjoon walks over as you’re scowling. 

‘Uh, enjoying the party?’

‘I’d enjoy it more if I could turn up the heat on some people,’ you mutter, casting a baleful look at Jihoon.

Namjoon looks a little doubtfully at the steaks still grilling.

‘Is there cake?’ you ask, to distract him.

He gives you a bemused look. ‘Of course.’

‘I’ve never had birthday cake.’

Namjoon smiles. ‘Really? I hope you like this one.’

Once again, his sincerity charms you. 

Namjoon moves a little closer, and you realise he’s hooked his fingers around yours.

Is he…. holding your hand?

You look up at him, unsure of how to react.

‘Is this ok? You look really pretty in that dress,’ he murmurs, leaning down to reach your ear.

He keeps his fingers curled around yours loosely. 

‘You like it?’

‘Yeah. You’re beautiful.’

You don’t know what to say. 

You look down at your intertwined fingers.

‘I was hoping you might stay after the party’s over,’ he says.

‘For more cake?’ you ask, as innocently as you can, which is not very. You are a fire demon after all.

Namjoon’s lips curve in a smile, dimples flashing. 

‘Yeah, I’ll get you cake,’ he promises. 

Next to you, you can hear Jihoon clearing his throat pointedly as Namjoon leans over you.

You go on tiptoe to whisper in Namjoon’s ear, pressing your body against his.

‘Your uncle doesn’t like me,’ you say. ‘He keeps complaining.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Namjoon says. His hand slides down to your lower back as he grasps you to him in a hug. ‘I’ll take care of him.’

You step back and Namjoon says, ‘Wow, these steaks are burnt. Luckily I ordered pizza.’

He touches your hand. ‘Let’s go and eat.’

***

You’re watching, amused, as Namjoon cuts his birthday cake, surrounded by excited looking children, both human and demon.

He blows out the candles, and you relight them all.

He immediately turns in your direction, accusing.

‘Come on, blow out the candles so we can eat the cake,’ you heckle.

Namjoon glowers at you, and blows them out again.

To collective squeals of excitement from the children, the candles relight.

Namjoon rolls his eyes.

‘It’s not funny,’ he complains.

‘One more time!’ calls Namjoon’s niece Sora. 

You relight the candles until every child’s taken a turn at blowing them out. 

You’re considering what other mischief you can get up to when you realise Namjoon’s approached you with a plateful of cake.

He holds out a fork to you.

‘Feed me?’ you suggest.

Obliging, he spears through the chocolate sponge and lifts it to your lips.

As you savour your first ever bite of birthday cake, the candles relight.

‘Will you stop,’ Namjoon says, exasperated.

You’re already scanning the room with interest. ‘That wasn’t me.’

Your gaze lands on Sora.

She’s staring at the cake with a look of concentration you recognise.

‘Looks like you’ve got a fire demon trait in the family,’ you observe.

To your surprise, Namjoon just laughs. ‘This explains so much about her.’

You look at him inquiringly.

‘She reminds me of you, actually. Except more mature.’

You roll your eyes at his attempt at humour.

‘It’s a good thing you’re hot. You’d never pull anyone with your jokes.’

‘Ouch,’ says Namjoon. ‘It’s my birthday, you should be nice to me.’

You blink at him. ‘I thought you didn’t mind pain.’

Namjoon feeds you another forkful of cake, then sets the plate down.

‘Let’s go upstairs.’

‘You can’t leave your own birthday party —-‘

‘Yeah I can.’

He reaches for your hand, and you follow him out of the room.

***

Namjoon’s hot, you think to yourself, admiring the breadth of his shoulders as he walks towards the bed.

He’s got a great body, that’s a given, but there’s also something about the way he walks that makes you feel weak.

He turns his head, catches you staring.

‘Stop transmitting so loud,’ he murmurs, but a dimple flashes in his cheek so you don’t think he really minds.

You pull an image of him fucking you from last night into your mind and he turns instantly, grips you by the upper arms and tosses you onto the bed.

‘Fuck. I’m so hard already,’ he groans. 

‘Stay that way,’ you tell him.

He runs his gaze over your body, his intent so blatant it would make you blush if you weren’t as horny as he clearly is.

‘I guess I’m lucky you misbehaved enough to be given this task. I wouldn’t have met you otherwise.’

‘We don’t run in the same circles,’ you agree. ‘I didn’t misbehave, though. Lord Seokjin’s punishment is unfair.’

Namjoon's lips had been about to land on your neck, but he pauses at your words.

You can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin as he murmurs an inquiring, ‘hmm?’

You’ve never cared enough about the truth that you would delay a good time, so you curl your hand around the nape of his neck to tug him down to you.

He doesn’t move.

‘Remind me why you're being punished by Lord Seokjin?’ 

You shrug. ‘Demons.’

You don’t feel like explaining again, not sure why it matters. 

To be honest, all you want to do right now is pull Namjoon down on top of you so that his body covers yours.

‘Let’s fuck,’ you murmur into the shell of his ear.

His skin warms under your mouth, a heated trail from his ear to his jaw. You tease him with a brush of your lips against his, you know he likes kissing.

He curls a hand over your shoulder, kisses you back hungrily, makes your eyes close with the taste of him so that you don’t realise he’s pulling away until you lose the warmth of him and the damn Snoopy lamp clicks on.

‘Wh—-‘ 

You’re disoriented but not too disoriented to notice he’s getting up.

‘Tell me what happened,’ he says. 

‘Now?’

You think you should pout but you’re too frustrated so you glower at him instead.

He rolls his eyes. ‘You’re fucking hot when you’re mad but we need to talk.’

You roll onto your front, punch his fluffy duvet and scream into his linens.

He’s unmoved.

***

Downstairs Namjoon’s family and friends have left.

Namjoon sits on his couch, eyes you narrowly.

‘Tell me again.’

You sit next to him, run your hand over his thigh.

‘Do I have to?’ you complain.

‘Talk,’ he says, terse. ‘You wanted my help, so talk.’

He’s serious like when he put antiseptic all over your canid bites.

You stare at the carpet between your feet as you talk. 

By the time you get to having to choose between him, the incel and the politician, there’s a muscle ticking in his jaw.

‘So I ended up with you,’ you say, tapping his thigh like you can spin it into a positive.

Namjoon looks like he’s torn between anger, irritation and disbelief.

‘And that’s why you’re here.’

‘Well, initially,’ you hedge. ‘Now I just want to—‘

‘To what?’ he snaps.

You recoil a little from the tone of his voice.

He sounds angry. With you. Like this whole thing is your fault.

You tug the hem of your dress down to give your hands something to do while you compose yourself.

You say, ‘I just —‘

He gets up with an impatient huff.

For the first time, words fail you.

‘I need your help,’ you say, finally. ‘I don’t want to be banished to the depths for a hundred years.’

‘You have no idea what you’re asking, do you?’

Namjoon waves a hand. ‘My family made a deal with the Narasus Kims. That we wouldn’t challenge Lord Seokjin’s succession to the demon rulers, as long as they allowed us to live outside the realm.’

Namjoon’s gaze lands on you. ‘If I return, my entire family loses their end of the deal. We’ll have demons turning up, trying to draw the rest of us in. Exactly what my great grandparents didn’t want when they made the agreement.’

He stares at you. ‘Every person you saw today would be drawn back into the demon realm. Including the children.’

‘My great grandparents wanted future generations of us to grow up somewhere safe where we didn’t have to worry about being attacked by stealth demons or canids.’ He pauses. ‘Or being sent to the depths.’

‘That’s what you’re asking me to give up to help you.’

Every word he’s uttered is making you feel smaller and smaller.

You want to point out that you’ve always lived in the demon realm but somehow you don’t think that will go over well.

You fold your hands together. 

‘You’re right,’ you tell him. You get up. He’s still looking at you, but you can no longer meet his eyes.

‘I didn’t know that was the price I was asking you to pay,’ you admit. 

You lift the strap of your dress back up over your shoulder from where it’s fallen down your arm.

‘I should go.’

Namjoon steps forward. ‘Hey. Wait.’ 

He touches your arm gently. ‘I’m sorry, maybe I was too harsh.’

‘It’s fine,’ you say, looking up at him. ‘I needed to hear it.’

‘Where are you going to go, it’s dark, let me —‘

He trails off at the look you throw him.

‘I’m a fire demon,’ you remind him. 

You turn, and he lets you leave.

***

‘A thousand years?’ you yelp in disbelief. ‘That’s ridiculous!’

Lord Seokjin looks up at you over the glasses he’s put on despite his perfect vision. 

‘You didn’t succeed. There’s a penalty for that.’

‘You can’t send me to the depths for a thousand years!’ you protest. ‘What I did didn’t even deserve a hundred years!’

‘I decide what the punishment is, pet,’ Lord Seokjin says sternly. His gaze is hard. ‘I thought you’d succeed. Kim Namjoon seemed to like you.’

‘He wanted to fuck me,’ you agree, sourly. ‘Like is a strong word.’

Lord Seokjin laughs, like you’ve said something funny. ‘He reached out to a demon of the court to pursue alternatives for you, he’s never done that before.’

You’re surprised but you don’t let that derail you.

‘Please reconsider a thousand years,’ you plead.

‘I’m sorry, pet,’ Lord Seokjin says, gently. ‘But don’t worry, you have a week left.’

‘Fuck you,’ you scowl. ‘Fuck you and your fucking brother too.’

You light his desk on fire as you see yourself out.

***

It’s not that you mind getting up at ass o’clock to catch Kim Namjoon on his morning commute, but you don’t know what to try next.

You’re out of ideas, and there’s nothing to set on fire.

Apart from yourself, you think darkly.

You’re so lost in your thoughts you don’t realise he’s next to you until you hear him say your name.

The train is packed this morning, you’re standing in a corner by the doors of the carriage.

You’re jostled by a person getting out, and Kim Namjoon reaches out to steady you.

He puts himself between you and the other commuters.

‘I was hoping to see you. I wanted to apologise.’

‘You don’t have to apologise,’ you tell him. ‘You only spoke your truth.’

‘I didn’t have to speak so harshly to you.’

‘For the last time,’ you snap, ‘I am a fire demon. Do you think someone speaking harshly to me is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me?’

You laugh humourlessly. ‘Don’t worry about hurting my feelings.’

His gaze is steady. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘I, too, have a vested interest in my wellbeing,’ you reply, but the venom’s gone out of your tone.

You sigh. ‘I’m tired.’

The carriage doors open again, and Namjoon steps closer to you like a human shield.

A demon shield.

His chest is right in your face, so you reach up, curl your hand into his lapel and bury your face in his chest.

A moment later, his arm curls around you.

He holds you.

You’ve never been held like this before. For a long moment you lean into him, letting him take your weight. It feels nice.

You’re struck by the certainty that you don’t want to ask him to help you, not even to save you a thousand years in the depths. You can’t. Not for the price he mentioned.

Tears prickle behind your eyelids.

You swipe a hand over your face hastily and push him away.

‘Hey,’ he says, softly. ‘Let me —‘

You don’t hear the rest of his sentence because the carriage doors open again and you slip out.

***

You glower at the line of demons in front of you.

Of course the depths are set up like the waiting room from hell.

The line of demons hasn’t moved once in the six hours that you’ve been waiting.

There’s music playing but the tracklist has the same six shitty songs on loop.

You hope fervently that Lord Kim Seokjin’s desk burned to ashes.

The switch in front of you turns like they want to make small talk.

‘No,’ you growl. 

The switch turns away, offended.

You’re glad. Hopefully your tone was enough to discourage any further attempts in the approximately  five hundred years this queue to the depths will take.

Your mind wanders, as does your gaze.

That demon three rows ahead looks kind of hot.

He turns and you see his profile.

Hey! You know him.

Min Yoongi sees you and walks up.

‘Honestly, Lord Seokjin’s such an asshole for this,’ he says.

You’re in complete agreement. ‘Next time I’ll light him on fire instead of just his desk.’

‘Well come on then. Fuck this shit. Let’s get out of here.’

He holds out his hand, and you take it.

***

You and Min Yoongi enter Lord Seokjin’s chamber.

To your surprise, Namjoon is there.

But not the Namjoon you’ve come to know, with his glasses and his generic officewear.

This Namjoon’s dressed in a sharply cut suit blacker than your darkest thoughts, hair styled back.

Wow.

Is this the demon version?

You realise you’re transmitting quite loudly when beside you, Yoongi nudges you. 

‘Namjoon did say you were a loud transmitter,’ he says. He looks like he’s stifling a smile.

Namjoon’s eyes rove over you as if to check you’re unharmed.

Beside him, Lord Seokjin clears his throat.

‘Before you light anything on fire, pet, your boyfriend and I have agreed that you are to be released from your punishment.’

You goggle at him, and not just because he’s stunningly handsome.

You turn to Namjoon. ‘You can’t! Your family—‘

Lord Seokjin makes a gagging noise. 

‘How very human of you,’ he says, sourly.

Namjoon says, mildly, ‘Shut up, Seokjin.’

You’re still marvelling over his lack of honorifics when he steps forward, putting himself between you and Lord Seokjin.

‘I’m a stealth demon,’ he tells you, ‘from a long line of stealth demons. Of course we put a clause in our agreement that any attempts made by the current ruling family to sabotage us would mean the terms of the agreement would fail.’

‘Also,’ he adds, ‘I work in insurance. I know how to nullify a claim. I just needed time.’

‘Wow,’ you breathe, impressed. ‘Who knew stealth demons could be this hot?’

Namjoon looks at you, exasperated, but he softens when you reach up and grasp him in a hug.

He holds you like he did on the train.

‘So I can go?’ you ask.

‘You can go anywhere you want,’ Namjoon confirms. ‘I was hoping you’d come with me.’

Instead of an answer, you transmit another image of Namjoon on top of you.

‘Yeah,’ Namjoon agrees firmly. ‘Let’s go and do that.’

He keeps his arm around you as you walk out, and you think you could really get used to how it feels.