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Ace of Hearts

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Kim Seokjin, 27. It says on the record that he hasn't had sexual relations with anyone for 6 years and has been feeling incredibly lonely for most of that time. This guy sounds like he’ll be the easiest job that Jimin has had in weeks. He’s probably going to be in and out within a few hours, then he’ll have the rest of the day off to relax.

The first hiccup in the plan is when Jimin tries to tap into Kim Seokjin's sexual preferences and doesn't find much of anything at all. He must be so desperate for anything that he doesn't have a particular kind of lover in mind. It's not a big deal, Jimin has had a few jobs before where he hasn’t needed to change his appearance, but it does feel kind of weird.

The whole point of being able to change his form in the first place is so that he can appear as the physical manifestation of his victim's deepest and most desperate sexual fantasies. When there's nothing to work with and he has to show up looking just like himself, he feels... Vulnerable. It's not like anyone would ever turn him down, but he prefers the sensation of wearing a mask that he feels when he’s operating a body that isn’t quite his. It feels safer, somehow.

Ah, well. It'll be a quick job; he won't have time to dwell on it. What use is an incubus who feels vulnerable, anyway? The whole point of his job is to prey on and expose vulnerabilities- sexual vulnerabilities, but vulnerabilities nevertheless- on unsuspecting mortals. There isn't room for him to be vulnerable himself.

He places his hand on the teleportation device and closes his eyes. He feels the slightly uncomfortable sensation of static moving through his hand and into the rest of his body, and when he opens his eyes he is standing in a bedroom.

It's a nice bedroom. Well decorated, as would be expected from a single 27 year old man with a full time job. Jimin's eyes habitually scan over the room for surfaces that could be used if the bed doesn't satisfy enough. The wardrobe looks sturdy, it could probably take a decent amount of weight. The desk could be good for bending someone over- or being bent over, he isn't picky. Full length mirror, very nice, could definitely make use of that. Jimin likes to see himself when he fucks.

He absent mindedly strokes the bed sheet (he knows 100% cotton when he feels it) as he awaits the arrival of his victim. It shouldn't be too long now, he can hear movement in another room so he knows that Kim Seokjin is home.

Over decades, incubi and succubi have mastered the art of emitting pheromones that fill mortals with an inexplicable urge to seek them out, and upon meeting they subconsciously know exactly what the demon is and what they’re there for. It makes everything so much easier than having to explain with every new person that yes, I'm a demon, and yes, I'm here to fuck you.

As expected, the door opens within a few minutes to reveal a tall, broad, dark haired man. Jimin’s eyes trail hungrily over the broad shoulders, exposed neck and the small waist, evident even under a loose fitting shirt. He's handsome, devastatingly so.

Jimin thinks that there must surely be a mistake in the paperwork because there’s no way that somebody who looks like this could have not had sex in six whole years, but mistake or not, he's here to do a job and he's going to do it.

A sense of recognition flickers in Kim Seokjin’s eyes as he takes Jimin in, the kind of recognition where mortals come to terms with what exactly is in front of them.

Jimin is unsurprised by the startled step back that Seokjin takes. He isn't even surprised by the immediate fear that radiates off of him. That's normal; mortals are afraid of demons, even if they're hot and here to have a good time.

What he is surprised by is the fact that fear is all he can smell. Every single time, without fail, the mortals who get scared always have a hint of lust underneath the panic, a hint of desire bubbling underneath the surface that Jimin can feed with smooth words and tantalising looks.

Not this time, though. It's just fear; a thick, overwhelming stench that permeates the room and makes Jimin want to gag. He forces himself to take some deep breaths, stomaching the sickly smell in an attempt to detect a hint of lust, of desire, of anything positive at all. But there's nothing.

Is his sense of smell going bad? This has never happened before.

Seokjin mutters something to himself and dashes away, slamming a door shut in the distance. Jimin isn't sure why- he'll get to him eventually. He always does.

Admittedly, he's never had a case as odd as this one before. Not only is this man incredibly good looking despite apparently not having had sex in six whole years, but Jimin couldn't smell any arousal on him. He doesn't like to talk to his victims much, never sees the point in it, but he might actually have to talk to this one to figure out what on earth is going on.

He expects Seokjin to come back soon. Arousal or no arousal, he will have an urge to return to Jimin. It's like a magnetic force that will have only grown stronger now that they've seen each other.

But he doesn't. He can't be immune to the force, because he entered the bedroom for no apparent reason soon after Jimin's arrival. Why would he resist it, when it's so hard to do so? Why was he so scared?

Jimin doesn't like to have questions without answers. He likes to know exactly what's going on and he likes to get stripping within at least five minutes of showing up in a mortal's room. Needless to say, he isn't particularly pleased with this assignment.

If he could, he would probably have just left. It's incredibly unprofessional, but this case is so odd that he thinks that it could be excused. It's so bizarre that he'd be tempted to think that Seokjin wasn't a mortal at all if it weren't for how Jimin could hear his heartbeat, quickening in pace when he saw the incubus before him.

Jimin can't leave, though. Part of the contract is that demons can go and do their jobs but they can't come back until their part of the deal has been done. It's to prevent them from getting distracted from what they need to do. In other words- Jimin is stuck here until he has sex with this anomaly of a mortal.

Heaving a sigh and lying back on Seokjin's bed, Jimin decides that he can't give up yet. He can't just live the rest of his life banished on earth because he couldn't fulfill a job. That would be endlessly humiliating. He still has a chance, he just needs to figure this mortal out and, once he finds his weakness, he can play to them just like with any other job.

His colleague, Hoseok, once told him that he stayed with a mortal for an entire week before he could complete his job. His assigned mortal had some issues with self esteem and didn't want to have sex out of fear of performing badly, and Hoseok essentially had to counsel them into having enough self confidence to let him fuck them. When Jimin heard the story, he thought it sounded like torture.

Is he going to have to be a therapist to a mortal just to get his damn job done? Does this gorgeous man somehow have self esteem issues, despite the huge mirror that's in his room? Does he have a tiny cock? Does he struggle with premature ejaculation? Jimin doesn't give a shit about any of that. Sex can be amazing no matter how people's bodies work, but just because he knows that doesn't mean that he's willing to educate a random mortal on it.

He should have asked Hoseok more about his experience while he had the chance. Now he's stuck here on his own with a potential therapy session on his hands when all he signed up for was a quick fuck. What a fucking nightmare.

Seokjin does show up after a few hours. That's a good thing about Jimin’s habit of appearing in bedrooms- people can't hide from him for too long. Granted, people don't usually hide from him.

When Seokjin enters the room, he looks strangely like he's in pain. His brows are pinched together, luscious lips pursed so tightly that it's practically a pout. Jimin would give good money to have his way with those lips (and he will, for free, once this mess is all sorted out.)

Jimin is lying sideways on the bed in a way that accentuates the dip of his waist and the plumpness of his ass. Seokjin gives him one look, takes a sharp breath, and looks straight at the wall behind Jimin as if it hurts to look at him.

Jimin is, quite frankly, offended. Who does this mortal think he is to somehow not find him attractive in the slightest, when the whole point of his being is to be as sexy as possible?

There's a sick feeling in his stomach when he remembers that he looks like himself today. Seokjin didn't have any preferences that he could play around with, so Jimin looks like Jimin. At remembering that, he's even more offended, but not in the angry way. He feels hurt.

Now is not the time to be worrying about whether he's good enough. He'll brood about it later, when he's gotten this job over and done with.

"Hey there," he says alluringly, in an attempt to move things along since Seokjin is just standing there.

"Hello," Seokjin responds, voice as stiff as his body. Jimin wishes that he would loosen up a bit. He could help him loosen up a bit.

If Seokjin were more responsive, Jimin might be willing to make small talk to ease him into it, even though he hates small talk. But it doesn't look like Seokjin wants to talk to him in any way, so he figures that he should just get to the point. "You know why I'm here," he says simply.

Another sharp exhale from Seokjin as he nods jaggedly, still refusing to look at Jimin. "I am aware of why you are here."

Jimin pulls himself up into a sitting position, spreading his legs out wide as he looks up imploringly at Seokjin. "Then why are you keeping me waiting? I'm a busy boy. I've got things to do- well, people to do." He smirks in that way that usually evokes stares of awe.

It's not working. None of Jimin's moves are working. Childishly, he feels tears threatening to prickle at his eyes. His confidence in his ability to do his job- and therefore his confidence in himself, because his job and his identity are so closely linked that they could easily be the same thing- is at an all time low after around two minutes of total interaction with this man. He's not sure if he even wants to fuck him anymore, and that's saying something because Jimin always wants to fuck.

What he wants most of all right now is to run away. Running away, he reminds himself, is not a part of the job description. He grips the sheet tightly in his fists.

Seokjin looks startled, fear only seeming to grow. He's visibly shaking now. "I'm really sorry, but... I think there has been a mistake."

Jimin also thinks that there has been a mistake. Somewhere, somehow, there has been a mistake. But he can't acknowledge that in front of the victim. "Whatever do you mean, sweetheart?" It’s through sheer talent and decades of experience that he’s able to keep his voice light and airy, as if he had no care in the world.

"I can't... Do this," Seokjin gestures sharply to Jimin on the bed and closing his eyes as if doing so pains him. "With you. I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

This is another thing that Jimin is starting to agree with. "Why not? Nobody needs to know," he drawls, which usually gets people crawling to him. The knowledge that they can get away with fucking a stranger- a hot demon no less- with no consequences usually gets mortals raring to go. "It'll be our little secret."

Seokjin starts stuttering. "I- I know that nobody would know. But I... I can't. I c-can't do it, I'm sorry."

"Are you worried that you can't satisfy me?" Jimin asks in a tone that's far more blunt than the voice he uses with his victims, but he's getting impatient now. It’s lasted far too long already. He just wants his job to run smoothly and not have to worry about whether or not he's good enough.

Seokjin shakes his head quickly. He looks like he might cry. Is he going to cry? Why is he going to cry? Is his cock that small? Jimin is about to say something about how size doesn't matter when Seokjin finally speaks. "It's not that. Or-or you. It's me. I just-" he wrings his hands, "I can't."

"You can't have sex?" Jimin asks, so baffled that he slips into his normal voice. He’s never heard of someone pull the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ card on an incubus before.

"K-kind of." Seokjin looks so small despite his stature, curled in on himself and looking like he would rather be anywhere else. Jimin feels kind of bad- this guy clearly just wants to sleep in his bed and Jimin is here making him face the fact that he can't fuck for some reason.

Jimin's voice is softer this time, giving up on trying to be alluring. He's genuinely curious, and also kind of concerned. "Why not?"

Seokjin wraps his arms around himself, squeezing tight as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. "I don't like sex. I really don't like it. It's not my thing, I… I just can't do it."

Just when Jimin thought that he was getting to the bottom of this, Seokjin said something to make him infinitely more confused. He physically can't comprehend how somebody could not like sex. He might be a little biased here since it's what he does for a living, but Jimin can't think of any better feeling than sliding his cock into somewhere warm and wet. The thought that somebody would intentionally abstain from that, and not even for religious reasons like mortals sometimes do, is absurd.

Jimin would laugh and ask if Seokjin just had one bad time and decided to just swear against sex, but the look on Seokjin's face stops him. He looks genuinely pained. Jimin couldn't possibly make fun of someone in a state like that, even if he is a demon. Besides, he's a sex demon, being an asshole isn't a part of his job.

Instead of making a joke out of it, Jimin closes his legs and shuffles over, patting the space next to him. "Wanna sit down?"

Seokjin gulps, shaking his head.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Seokjin shakes his head again. "There's not much to say." Jimin wonders if that's the truth or not. "I know that you’re just doing what you have to do, but you're, ah, kind of the embodiment of my worst nightmare."

Ouch. Jimin certainly hasn't been called that before; mortals usually refer to him as the exact opposite of their worst nightmare.

He doesn't know what to say. He can't remember the last time he didn't know what to say to a mortal. Usually he has all of the interactions down, so regular and formulaic that he could write a list of everything to say and do.

To Jimin's surprise, it's Seokjin that speaks next. "Do you... Have to?"

He doesn't finish the sentence, but Jimin knows what he's trying to say. Do you have to have sex with me?

Jimin leans back. "Kind of, yeah." Seokjin's eyes widen again and the scent of fear in the air grows stronger. Jimin tries to hold his breath as much as possible. "Part of the contract is that I have to get the job done before I can come back." He doesn't usually disclose things like this to his victims, but he doesn't usually have a victim that doesn't like having sex.

Seokjin puts his head in his hands, stepping back so that he can lean against the wall to support himself. "Oh my god, oh my god, fuck, oh my god-"

"But there's clearly been a mistake here. You shouldn't have been put on the register," Jimin says, interrupting before Seokjin has a panic attack. Jimin does not know how to handle people having panic attacks. "I can detect other nearby incubi, so I can just wait here until I find someone and tell them about the situation," he says, coming up with a plan on the spot. "Then when they finish with their jobs and go back, they can get our management to summon me back."

Seokjin slowly lowers his hands, looking directly at Jimin for the first time since he entered the room. "Okay," he breathes, visibly calming down. "Okay. Okay, I'm sorry."

Jimin doesn't like how much Seokjin is apologising. He may have no fucking idea why somebody would not like sex, but he sure as hell isn't going to force somebody to do something that they don't want to do. That only works when the other person is only pretending to not want it and secretly wants it deep down. He hasn't detected any secret want from Seokjin this whole time, and he doubts that anyone could be this good at acting anyway.

He pats on the bed next to him again, and this time Seokjin comes over, although his movements are incredibly hesitant. He sits on the bed, as far away from Jimin as physically possible. "The whole point of incubi- that’s what I am, by the way, I’m an incubus- is to cause and feed off of pleasure," Jimin explains when Seokjin is sat down. "There's no point in me doing something that you wouldn't enjoy. Even if having sex is literally what I'm meant to do, it would be counterproductive if I were to try and do that when you clearly really, really don't want to."

Seokjin takes a few deep breaths and then, surprisingly, laughs. It's a bitter, hollow laugh, but a laugh nevertheless. "I can't believe I'm literally sitting next to an incubus right now. I cannot fucking believe it."

"I haven't met anyone like you before, either," Jimin says, not sure if he should be offended or not.

"You've never met an asexual before?" Seokjin asks, eyebrows raised in interest.

Asexual. Jimin is sure he's heard that term before, but he's fairly sure that it was used in regards to plants. He doubts that Seokjin is referring to himself as a plant. He can make a solid guess of what it would mean in a human context, though. "That means that you... don't have sex with other people?" He isn't sure if masturbation counts or not, but he decides not to ask. Maybe later.

Seokjin nods. "Yeah. Basically. It's different for everyone, but for me... Yeah, I don't do it. Doing that kind of thing isn't for me." He cringes, as if just thinking about sex is uncomfortable for him. Jimin finds it so fucking weird, but it’s interesting at the same time. He'd love to crawl inside Seokjin's brain and have a look around and see things from this alien perspective.

"Alright," Jimin says. He has more questions- he has a lot more questions- but he thinks that the best thing for Seokjin right now is to get some sleep. "I'll leave you be, Seokjin-ssi. Can I sleep on the couch?" He's never slept on a couch in his damn life.

Seokjin freezes at the mention of his name. "You know my name?" He laughs nervously.

Jimin nods in confirmation. "We know the basic information about our victims- clients, I mean- before we visit them. It makes some things easier."

"I see." Seokjin’s face is unreadable.

It seems like the right thing to do for Jimin to give his name to make it equal, so he does. "I'm Jimin. Park Jimin, technically, but I haven't had a use for a surname for the past century or so." He rises from the bed, brushing himself off. "I'll leave you to rest now, Seokjin-ssi," he says, making his way towards the door.

"Wait," Seokjin gets up and rummages through his wardrobe, pulling out some drawers until he finds what he's looking for. He holds up a soft blue fleece blanket. "I don't know if you can get cold, but if you do," he holds out the blanket for Jimin to take, “here."

Jimin is stunned into silence for a moment, then he smiles. It feels unnatural to smile in a way that isn't intended to seduce someone, to smile just for the sake of smiling, but he’s genuinely pleasantly surprised. "We do get cold," he admits as he takes the blanket. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Seokjin mutters, looking uncomfortable again. "Goodnight."


Jimin locates the living room easily enough. He's pleased to see that Seokjin's couch is of good quality and looks like it'll be comfortable enough to not give him an aching back tomorrow. He lies down, pulling the fleece over himself, and stares at the ceiling.

He could ask himself a million times how he ended up here. Everything played out right in front of him and yet he feels like he has no idea what just happened.

He wants to get to know Seokjin more. Not only because he finds the whole asexual thing intriguing, but because the act of kindness surprised him. Jimin is, to quote Seokjin himself, 'the embodiment of his worst nightmare’, and yet he thought to give Jimin a blanket so that he wouldn't get cold. Jimin doesn't think that many humans would do something like that.

Beneath the thoughts about the recent turn of events, he feels anxiety gnawing in his gut. The past few hours threw him far out of his comfort zone and even now that he's alone he feels like he needs to hide. He's stuck with his real body for an unknown length of time and he doesn't know how well he's going to deal with that.

He tells himself constantly that he doesn't dislike his real form, it's just that he likes all of the other ones better. When he changes his appearance, it's to appeal to somebody. He knows that he's attractive, but he doesn't feel appealing, and to be appealing is the whole point of his existence.

He curls up sideways, hugging his knees to his chest. He can't cry, he can't cry. Can't be vulnerable. Got to prey on vulnerabilities. Can't be vulnerable.

But he's not preying on anyone right now, he's just stuck somewhere, so he allows himself to cry, just a little bit. A tear trickles down the side of his face, and then another one does, and another one.

Jimin doesn't cry loudly, barely even sniffles. Even so, he feels like he's being too loud, making too big of a deal about his emotions.

He fists the blanket irritably, turning over so that he's facing away from the rest of the room. It feels safer this way; it feels better knowing that if Seokjin were to walk in for any reason then he wouldn't see Jimin's tears.

As his eyes flutter shut, he reminds himself of his priorities. He needs to find another incubus, and then explain to them that he needs to be taken back. Then he'll go back to where he belongs and everything will be back to normal.


Seokjin regards Jimin hesitantly the next morning, exchanging a few polite words before practically running out of the door.

Jimin entertains himself by walking around the house and looking at things that he probably shouldn't be looking at, watching TV and peering out of the window at the people walking by. He recognises some of them. This is a densely populated area, and every so often he notices somebody that he's sure he has fucked before. No sign of his own kind, though.

When Seokjin returns, Jimin is confused. It genuinely feels like a different person came home to the person who left in the morning.

Seokjin makes jokes. Maybe a few too many, which is probably down to nerves, but that's the thing- he's nervous now, not scared. Seokjin feels awkward, Jimin can tell, but at some point while at work he must have come to the conclusion that Jimin isn't going to cause him any harm, because there's hardly any fear radiating off of him anymore.

He makes jokes and he laughs and he starts cooking for Jimin without even mentioning it. Jimin only realises that some of the food was for him when Seokjin gets out two bowls instead of one and gestures for Jimin to sit at the table.

He's kind. He asks Jimin if he was alright in the house alone and if there is anything that can be done to make the daytime less boring. He asks if the blanket was enough to keep him warm at night.

He even uses a cheesy pickup line, which Jimin is overwhelmingly confused by considering that less than 24 hours ago, this man appeared to be nearing a panic attack at the prospect of having sex with somebody.

It's amazing how fear changes a person. Maybe amazing isn't the right word for this situation. It's very interesting. The Seokjin eating at the table opposite Jimin is nothing like the Seokjin he met last night.

And yet Jimin doesn't understand this Seokjin, either. He's absolutely baffled by him.

People have been kind to Jimin before. Of course they have. He's encountered more people than he can count, and plenty of them have been kind people. He's had people open doors for him and he's had people ask him about his job and he's had people offer to run him a bath after they fucked him so hard he can't move his limbs anymore.

The difference between Seokjin and all of these people is that he can't understand why Seokjin is being so nice to him. With everyone else, Jimin could detect the low simmering arousal simmering in their belly, the knowledge that if they're nicer to Jimin then he's more likely to last longer or indulge in certain kinks or stay the night. They always want something from him, whether they know it themselves or not. Jimin can't possibly imagine what Seokjin could want from him.

It isn't sex. He know that it isn't sex, because the thought of sex seemed to scare the shit out of Seokjin last night and he's made no moves towards Jimin today other than the pickup line, which was more of a joke than a pickup line. If he doesn't want sex, then there's not much else that Jimin can give him. He'd even go as far as to say that he has nothing else that he can give him.

Does Seokjin know that? Does he know that Jimin's only purpose in life is to fuck and be fucked? Does he think that there's something else that he can get out of this, something other than sex?

Jimin has half a mind to tell Seokjin that without sex he's practically useless, but he doesn't want to. Somehow, he's enjoying himself too much and he doesn’t want to ruin it.

That's the other confusing thing about Seokjin. Not only is he being so kind for no apparent reason, but he's genuinely pleasant to be around.

In a similar way to how other people want to be around Jimin for a reason, Jimin has reasons for being around other people. He lives off of the sexual pleasure that he can draw out of people. He can eat and drink like humans do, but it's not what sustains him.

There is nothing coming from Seokjin that is sustaining him, and yet he feels an odd sense of not wanting to leave. He should want to leave immediately, but Seokjin is kind and has given him good food and he's made him laugh more times than he can remember laughing in a day despite having only returned a few hours ago.

Seokjin has done nothing for him except making him feel, well, good. Jimin can't recall the last time somebody made him feel good and not in a sexual way. He wasn't even sure if he could engage with other people like this, in such a human way.

"It's good," Jimin mumbles after he swallows, and as he says it he realises that he's said it multiple times already. He doesn't eat very much because he doesn't need to and doesn't see the point in it, but if all food were like this then he could take up eating as a hobby. Seokjin is an excellent cook.

Seokjin leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and smiling at Jimin in a way that no other person has smiled at him before. "I've heard," he says.

Jimin is smiling, too, and he doesn't know why. "Maybe it isn't good," he snarks. "I don't usually eat so I don't have much to compare it to."

For some reason, Seokjin's face falls. Then he seems to think for a second, and his expression clears up. "Is that a demon thing? Do you not need to eat?"

"Yeah," Jimin says. "We feed off of energy, not physical sustenance. We can still eat if we want to, though." He takes another mouthful, chewing thoughtfully. "There are some of us that work with just pleasure in general, so that might be why we can eat. To eat good food." He shrugs. "I'm not complaining, though."

Seokjin tuts disapprovingly. "There's a whole world of things that you haven't been exposed to. I'll need to feed you lots of different things."

There's a pause, and they look at each other blankly. They both know the connotation of what Seokjin just said, that Jimin will be staying at least for a while.

Jimin remembers what Seokjin's portfolio said. Not had sex in six years. Lonely. The first thing was proven to be true, even if there were a reason behind it. He hadn't thought back to the second one.

Is Seokjin lonely? The thought of it fills Jimin with an unreasonable sense of anger. He shouldn't be lonely. Seokjin is the most genuinely good soul that Jimin has ever encountered, and he can tell this after knowing each other for such a short length of time. He shouldn't ever feel alone.

Incubi can detect a lot about a human from their scent, and Jimin can’t detect any badness in Seokjin. None at all.

"I'm not going to say no to somebody else doing stuff for me. I can be quite the pillow princess,” Jimin says, going along with it.

Immediately, he regrets making that joke, but it's okay because Seokjin snorts out a laugh. "Yeah, okay, whatever. I'm not making you food in the bedroom, though."

Jimin isn't sure how he got away with making a sex joke with someone who had such a negative reaction to the prospect of having sex, but he's not going to question it too hard. He thinks that he should probably not question anything about Seokjin too hard.

He can't help but wonder why Seokjin feels lonely, though. From Jimin’s perspective, he seems to have everything that one could want in a partner. He has money, he’s charming, he’s funny, he’s kind, and he’s so handsome that Jimin can’t look straight at him for too long or else he’ll feel overpowered with an urge to nibble at that plump lower lip.

Nothing seems to make sense.


As soon as Seokjin finishes washing the dishes and departs to his bedroom, Jimin starts to feel a restless itch under his skin. He could keep it back when he had company, but now that he’s alone with his thoughts he can’t help but dwell on the frustration. And, god, he’s so fucking frustrated.

He hasn’t gone this long without fucking somebody before. He’s been in this house for over 24 hours and he hasn’t gotten laid and it’s pissing him off because he doesn’t know what else he’s meant to do with himself.

He walks a lap around the living room. He walks more laps. He tries to distract himself by cleaning up, but Seokjin keeps his home so tidy that there isn’t much to do. He tries really hard to focus on the television but there’s so much pent up energy in his body that he’s physically vibrating.

In a moment that Jimin immediately regrets, he considers going to Seokjin’s room and begging him to please, please just let him fuck.

But he’d never stoop that low. Incubi are manipulative creatures that prey on the vulnerabilities and deep desires of mortals, but they would never force somebody to do something that they do not want to do. It’s one of the most important rules to never be broken.

Jimin knows that it's not very fair of him to be frustrated by somebody not wanting to have sex with him- or with anyone- but it's difficult considering that his entire identity is made up of being sexually attractive. He doesn't know who he is without it. He doesn't think that he likes who he is without it.

Despite his instincts screaming at him to stay put in the place that he arrived, he leaves Seokjin’s house. He doesn’t trust himself to stay, doesn’t want himself anywhere near Seokjin when he’s like this.

He just needs to go out and fuck somebody, or some people. As many people as will have him- no, as many people as he'll have. He's in charge here.

Jimin finds himself in a club, crowded and thick with the scent of ecstasy and lust mixed with a few spikes of fear and an unholy amount of perspiration. It's easy to find people to prey on in environments like this. Most people want it, at least a little bit, and the haze of alcohol on their minds makes them more agreeable. The combination of darkness and flashing lights and the seemingly unlimited crowd of people makes everything smoother, much more discreet.

The first person that he finds is a woman. It's always easier for him to find women because heterosexuality is rampant amongst mortals and the men who are attracted to him are often less willing to do anything about it.

Her straight, dark hair swishes with every movement, some of it stuck to her forehead from sweat. She wears a deep red dress with a generous cleavage, which the eye is directed to by a pendant hanging at her throat. She's here to fuck someone, Jimin can tell immediately by her scent. She wants to fuck even more than she wants to party.

Maybe she has just gone through a breakup and wants a quick and easy rebound. Maybe she's going through a lot of stress and needs a distraction. Maybe she's just horny.

It doesn't matter. Once her eyes latch onto Jimin, he knows that she's his.

They dance together, chests touching, crotches touching, grinding absolutely filthily in the middle of the dance floor. The friction against his cock clears Jimin's mind and clouds it even more at the same time. He just knows that he needs more of it, needs to feel normal and good. Needs to feel like he knows what he’s doing.

Jimin can tell by the woman's scent that she's looking for sex and she can most likely tell by his mannerisms that he is too, so they get to it pretty quickly.

He pushes her into a bathroom stall and pulls the top of her dress down so fast that he nearly rips it, immediately latching his mouth to a nipple and grasping the soft flesh of her tits. She whines, high pitched and girlish, carding her fingers through his hair as he nibbles and suckles. Then he moves to the other nipple, rubbing the one that he's already sucked on between his fingers.

She yanks him up by the hair and they kiss harshly, bruisingly. He bites on her lower lip hard and she moans into his mouth. He drinks the sound up greedily, drinks up all of the energy from her. It feels so good, so good, and he's not even being touched.

Jimin pulls her dress up over her head and leaves it in a red pile of silky fabric at their feet. Their lips meet again as his hands reach down between her legs. There's no fucking around with foreplay this time, that's not what she wants. She wants it quick and dirty, and he's more than happy to oblige.

The woman gasps in what sounds like surprise when his thumb massages her clit. She must be straight if that's a surprise to her. That's sad. Straight men need to up their game.

"Now," she rasps, "just put it in. Please."

So he does.

He backs her against the wall and braces his hands on each side of her as he thrusts swiftly, wasting no time. He knows exactly where to hit and how fast to go, knows how to pick up every signal. He knows what she wants and he knows that she's going to remember this for a very long time.

It's a boost to the confidence that he desperately needed. He needed to know that he's desirable, that he can make somebody feel good like this. He's damn amazing at sex, at fucking people and being fucked and all the other things in between. That's what he's good for.

(That's all he's good for.)

After fucking her until her legs quiver and tipping her over the edge with his tongue, he helps her put her dress back on. Just because he's a demon doesn't mean he can't be a gentleman. She scribbles her number on the back of his hand and gives him a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

He won't call. He never calls people. He doesn't even have a phone.

It takes about five minutes for him to find someone else, the taste of pussy still on his tongue. A man, this time. Tall, smooth skinned, strong eyebrows. He isn't here just for sex, but he wants it enough to let Jimin lead him out of the club and into the back alley. They give each other hand jobs against the wall and, before they can finish, Jimin gets onto his knees and takes the man's cock into his mouth.

The cock is a welcome weight in his mouth, thick and heavy, and Jimin nearly lets out a moan from the sensation alone. If he had a gag reflex, he couldn't be able to deep throat it, but he doesn't have a gag reflex because this is what he's good for- what he's made for, he's made for cum down his throat.

He revels in the musk, the sweat and the hint of urine that he can taste on the man's cock. It's kind of gross, but not unexpected from sloppy drunk men in clubs, and the grossness only turns Jimin on more. He likes feeling like he's being used, like he's just a toy that people can use to get themselves off. Even better, he likes knowing that deep down he's always the one in control, even if it looks like he isn't.

Made for this, made for this.

It's been too long since he has tasted cock, and he missed it so much. He swallows it whole and then comes back up to suckle at the head, tonguing the slit and eagerly swallowing the dribbles of precum that leak out. He gets messy, likes getting messy, drooling everywhere and getting his face slick and wet. When he briefly moves back for air, a thick string of spit connects his lips with the head of the cock, and it makes him eager to dive down on it all over again.

Jimin makes good work of the blow job, prolonging it a little and not necessarily because he has to but because he wants to. He's already had his confidence boost and fill of energy from the woman before, now he's just having fun.

He loves all kinds of sex acts, but he thinks that sucking cock is his favourite. It's the taste, the positioning of it that makes him feel submissive while being in control at the same time, the way that he knows just how damn great at it he is.

He can hear the man panting, moaning, whining like a desperate puppy. He's being too loud, they might get caught. Jimin doesn't give a shit, but that's because he's an exhibitionist and will probably never be here again anyway.

When the sounds above him reach a peak in desperation and are interjected with pathetic pleas for release, Jimin slides off of the cock and strokes it lazily. "Where do you wanna come, sweetheart?"

The man gulps down at him, legs shaking. "Lips- please, fuck- your lips- they're so-" He interrupts himself with a loud grunt as he finally comes.

The goal was to aim for Jimin's lips but there's so much of it that it goes all over his face. He runs his hands over his face, catching it with his fingers and sucking on them, smiling lazily at the taste. The man looks at him like he's struggling to comprehend what he's looking at, like he doesn't know how he got so lucky.

It wasn't luck, it was all Jimin's doing.

He could go for another few rounds, but he took his sweet time sucking this cock and now it's getting late enough that Seokjin is probably going to be wondering where he is. He departs, face still sticky with the residue of a stranger’s pleasure.


As soon as he opens the front door, he feels it. The loneliness, coming off in waves from Seokjin's bedroom.

Jimin realises now that he has been able to detect a hint of it in Seokjin's scent all along. He never noticed it before because it was so faint underneath everything else but it's stronger now, so much stronger.

He can't ignore it. He doesn't want to ignore it, either, but he's scared. He doesn't know how to deal with this. He knows how to deal with loneliness in most humans, but not this one, because Jimin can't comfort him physically. He can't distract Seokjin with his body like he could with anyone else.

He has to do something, though. Even if he didn't care about Seokjin- and he doesn't really, but he doesn't not care about him either- he wouldn't be able to leave it alone because the sheer volume of loneliness radiating out of that room is too much for Jimin to be able to sleep. It brings a chill under his skin that he doesn’t know how to thaw without confronting the problem directly.

After cleaning himself up and putting on the pyjamas that had been left out for him, Jimin knocks hesitantly on Seokjin's bedroom door. He doesn't know if this is overstepping or not. Even if Seokjin is more comfortable with Jimin than he was last night, that doesn't mean that he would be okay with having him in his bedroom.

"Yeah?" Seokjin’s voice comes quietly from inside.

Jimin doesn't know what to say. He clears his throat. "Can I come in?"

There's a pause. Seokjin is confused. "Sure."

Slowly, so that Seokjin has plenty of time to change his mind, Jimin opens the door and takes a single step inside. "Are you alright?"

From his bed, Seokjin stares at him like he's seen a ghost (and he's not seeing a ghost, he's seeing a demon, thank you very much.) "Yeah, why?"

Jimin just looks at him. He doesn't know how to explain why he's suddenly showed up in Seokjin's room without being honest. He's not allowed to divulge information like this to humans, but he probably wasn't allowed to tell humans about how there are different types of demons, either, so he’s already broken that rule. "I can smell feelings on people, it's useful to tell when people are... Turned on." His voice gets small as he finishes the sentence, not wanting to startle Seokjin. "And I know that you're sad. You're lonely?"

Seokjin laughs, which Jimin did not expect, but Jimin is starting to think that maybe he just shouldn't expect anything at all with Seokjin. "Of course you can," he shakes his head. "Of course you can smell fucking feelings on us. Of course you can.”

"I don't think there's anything I can do, but I didn't want to leave you alone to be sad."

Seokjin hums under his breath, part of his scent changing slightly to something like amusement. "You've got an awful lot of compassion for a demon, you know."

Jimin looks down at his bare feet against the plush carpet. "I'm meant to make people feel good, so I need to be able to know what they want. It's my job."

"I don't think I've heard a single thing about you that isn't directly related to your job," Seokjin says, sitting up straight in bed. He doesn't smell lonely anymore, even though Jimin hasn't done anything. "Who are you, really? Outside of the whole sex demon thing."

Jimin doesn't really understand the question. "I'm just a sex demon. That's it."

"But you're not just a sex demon. You have a personality, I can tell." Seokjin is insistent, but he's insistent on getting something from Jimin that he doesn't know how to give.

Sure, he's not just an incubus, he's Jimin. But Jimin is an incubus, and everything about him is based on that fact. He may not be exactly like all other incubi, but they all have similar traits because that's what they need to do their jobs right.

He isn't here to have an identity crisis. He's here to stop Seokjin from feeling lonely. Even though it appears to have stopped now for the most part, he still feels like he should offer to do something. "Is there any way I can help?" He asks, ignoring Seokjin's previous statement because he doesn't know what he could possibly say to address it.

"Nah. Well," Seokjin squints at Jimin, like he's trying to decide what to make of something. "I don't know." He slumps back down, head hitting the pillow and staring straight forward. "I just feel lonely because of how I am, sometimes?"

Jimin just stands there, unsure of whether to move closer or not. "How you are with sex?" He asks.

"Yeah." Seokjin clarifies. "I mean, it's not being asexual itself that makes me feel lonely. But I'm a whole grown adult, you know? Most people aren't looking for a relationship with someone who doesn't want to do one of the main things that are considered a part of a serious relationship." He tilts his head up to look at Jimin. "I'm only telling you this because you already know how I'm feeling so there’s no point in hiding it. I don't like to talk about this stuff. But you're a demon and you'll, well, you'll be gone soon, won't you?"

That's right, but Jimin doesn't like the way that it sounds. The way that Seokjin says 'you'll be gone' sounds an awful lot like 'I'll be alone again'.

Jimin asks the same question that he just asked but from a different perspective. "Is there anything in particular that you want right now?" That's something that he can do; he can ask somebody what they want from him and deliver it. He's excellent at obeying orders.

Seokjin looks at him for a long time, defeated. "I just want a hug, really. I feel cold."

Jimin has held people before, during or after sex. It's usually something done to wind down, to wait until his victim either falls asleep or has enough energy to get up and leave. He hasn't held anyone just for the sake of it. Seokjin seems to do a lot of things just for the sake of it.

It seems that Seokjin can see into the workings of Jimin's head because he laughs again. Jimin has heard enough of his laughs by now to know that this one is fake. "I wasn't asking you to do that, obviously. I was just saying that that's what I would want right now."

"I can do that," Jimin whispers. He doesn't know how he would feel being so physically close to someone and not touching them in the ways that he usually touches people- fuck, he'll have to stop himself from popping a boner- but there’s no way that he’s just going to go back to the couch and try to sleep.

"You don't have to-"

"I can hug you if you want," Jimin says, voice stronger this time, filling with determination. Hugging isn't much different from the kind of intimacy that he does all the time, after all, it's just less touching and less movement, right?

Seokjin doesn't say anything else to that. He closes his eyes, puts his hands over them, and takes a deep breath. Then he makes a little sound, a gentle hum. Jimin takes it as consent, because he can’t detect anything in his scent to suggest otherwise.

Jimin crawls under the bedsheets and hesitantly extends his arms out. He doesn't really know how to do this part, and it’s evident in the weakness of his movements. Seokjin rolls over into Jimin's arms, one arm draping over Jimin's waist.

It feels stiff. Seokjin is tense. He's a little scared. Slowly, so as not to startle him, Jimin wraps his arms around him more firmly, pulling them together so that they're almost face to face.

It's awkward. It's so fucking awkward. Jimin doesn't know what people do while they hug. Is this it? Do they just stare at each other? Do they close their eyes? Do they talk to each other?

"You're warm," Seokjin murmurs, blinking hard.

"Usually it's 'hot' that people call me, but okay," Jimin responds automatically, because he's uncomfortable and he can't be serious when he's uncomfortable.

(Is that an incubus thing? Or is that just a Jimin thing? Are there really aspects of his personality that aren't to do with what he is?)

Seokjin laughs under his breath and the tension in his limbs lessens. He doesn't smell as scared, but he doesn't close his eyes.

Jimin has had his face close up to many, many other faces before. The difference between now and those times is that it was always for kissing, for foreplay, to spit in someone’s mouth. Never has he seen someone’s face so close up without a haze of lust in their eyes.

The unfamiliarity of it all would have Jimin on edge if it weren’t for the fact that it felt so… Nice. Seokjin’s body is soft and firm at the same time, and he wants to be entirely wrapped up in him. The close proximity is such a pleasant sensation that Jimin thinks that he could definitely fall asleep like this.

Seokjin is looking at him. Jimin can see his eyes moving, scanning all over his face. He wants to bring his hands up to cover himself, but he reminds himself that it doesn’t matter what he looks like right now because there isn’t the usual end goal.

“You really are beautiful,” Seokjin breathes, lips curling around the edges.

Jimin sits up sharply, staring back at him with wide eyes. “Wait- what?!”

Seokjin has the absolute nerve to laugh at him. “What? Don’t pretend you don’t get compliments like that all the time. I was just saying.”

He does get compliments all the time, but nothing like that. They call him hot, they call him sexy, they don’t call him beautiful.

Jimin doesn’t know how to respond. He just sits there, looking at Seokjin’s amused expression with his brows furrowed. “I’ve never been called that before.”

In a move that only confuses Jimin further, Seokjin’s scent gains a sour note, almost like anger. Seokjin’s expression flattens until it’s completely neutral. “What?”

“It’s not a word that would really be used to describe me, that’s all.”

Seokjin shuffles so that he’s sitting up too and puts his hands on Jimin’s shoulders, staring into his eyes. “Are you kidding? You have to be kidding, right?” Jimin shakes his head, nonplussed. “You’re so- you’re gorgeous, Jimin. I don’t have to be sexually attracted to you to see that. I’m sorry that your ‘clients’ or whatever never thought to tell you that, but you are.”

Yet another time, Jimin is utterly bewildered by Seokjin. He feels like he just spoke a foreign language at him. "... What?" He whispers again. He doesn't understand that Seokjin could gain from complimenting him like this.

Seokjin is tense again. "You honest-to-god look fucking stunning, Jimin. The first thing I thought when I first saw you was 'I don't know why, but I'm sure that he's going to make me have sex with him', and the second thing I thought was 'but, fuck, he's gorgeous.'"

"I... I'm sorry?"

Seokjin looks like he's about to say something again, looks like he's about to go on a rant, but he takes a deep breath and doesn't. "You don't have anything to apologise for," he says, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Jimin's eyes. "You've been really kind to me, and I appreciate it. I just feel like you don't see yourself as a person, and it makes me sad."

That's ironic, considering that Jimin had been thinking so much of how Seokjin had been so kind to him earlier today. Seokjin is kind. Jimin doesn't think that he's kind. "Don't be sad," he mumbles pathetically. "I came in here to make you not sad."

With a stroke of his thumb down Jimin's face- that feels really nice, actually- Seokjin lays back down and encourages Jimin to do the same. He closes his eyes for the first time since Jimin got into bed with him. "I have to be up early in the morning. Sleep?"

Jimin would like to sleep, because sleeping means not thinking, so he goes ahead and closes his eyes, too.

They shift around a few times as they try to get comfortable. It's a kind of coexisting that's brand new to Jimin, but it only feels weird when he focuses on it. When he doesn't think too hard about where he is and who he's with and what he's doing, it feels as natural as water flowing down a stream.

By the time Jimin starts to drift off to sleep, he is encased in Seokjin's arms with one of Seokjin's long legs on top of his own. To some extent, it's a familiar feeling, to feel small inside someone else's hold. But he can't feel anything in his cock or in his ass or anywhere else, he just feels warm.

It's something that he thinks he could get used to.

Chapter Text

Spending so much time with a mortal makes Jimin feel like a newborn, blinking with newly formed eyes at a world never seen before.

There are so many things about humans that he never learned about because he never needed to before, things about humans that he didn’t know existed. He had always thought that he knew them very well because of how well he can read their emotions, but it turns out that there is a whole world of things about them that he has yet to discover.

It hurts his head to think that once upon a time, in a life that he has long forgotten, he was one of them.

He’s learning these human things now because Seokjin has started taking him around with him on his daily errands so that he isn’t alone all the time. He doesn’t take Jimin to work with him, but he takes him everywhere else.

He’s learning so much, but at the same time he wonders if there is any point in paying attention to the things that Seokjin shows him. Once he returns home, he will have no need for this knowledge; he never needed it during brief interactions with humans before and he doubts he will from now onwards. He never needed to know how to buy a train ticket or how to buy food or how to act when the person you’re with runs into one of their friends (which is to just awkwardly stand there, as far as he can tell so far.)

Learning about Seokjin’s life is interesting, though. It’s the kind of learning that doesn’t feel like learning, because he likes finding out things about Seokjin. It feels like stumbling across tiny pieces that are a part of one enormous, mysterious jigsaw. He doesn’t know if he could possibly come to understand Seokjin in the time that he will be here, but he would like to see how close he can get.

Jimin hasn’t spent this much time with one person before. His interactions with his colleagues are as fleeting as they are with his victims. He has only been here for a few days, and already has stronger feelings about Seokjin than he does for anyone at home.

There have been countless mortals that he has enjoyed the company of, those who told good jokes or would give him expensive gifts, but parting with them has never been much of a concern. The more that he is around Seokjin, the more he thinks that he’s going to miss him.

It hits Jimin as he watches Seokjin fighting to stay awake in the early hours of the morning so that he can continue playing video games (only to inevitably grumble drowsily to himself in the kitchen a few hours later after an insufficient night’s sleep) that if he were capable of caring about people- which he is not- then he would definitely care about Seokjin.

The video games are interesting. Over the past few decades, Jimin has seen how humans have developed technology to the point that they live with multiple screens, but he has never spent much time watching somebody play games before. Until Seokjin asked him if he wanted to try, he had never played games himself. They’re fun, even if Jimin is very bad at them. Seokjin said that he will get better with practise. Jimin thinks that he probably won’t be around long enough to get good at them.

He keeps feeling himself slipping to comfort, and he has to remember that this is temporary and he shouldn’t be enjoying himself so much. Every so often, he feels a flutter of a foreign feeling in his gut, a feeling that tells him to stay for a while longer, and it scares him to death. It’s not as if he could stay here, anyway. He’s going home and he’s glad about it.

Even if he isn’t having as awful of a time as he initially expected to, he would be hesitant to say that things are going smoothly.

Sometimes, Seokjin will ask him about his life back home. It’s understandable that he would be curious- it was only a few days ago that he discovered that incubi, and, in turn, other demons, existed in the first place. The problem is that Jimin doesn’t know what he can or can’t say, not only because of the rules in place (rules that he is, admittedly, not following very well right now) but also because he doesn’t want to upset Seokjin by talking about things that he wouldn’t be comfortable with.

He doesn’t know what is good to talk about and what isn’t, and he doesn’t want to ask questions for fear of being invasive. To stay on the safe side, he’s mostly avoiding talking about sex in general, and when he has to he doesn’t go into any explicit detail.

That would be fine if Seokjin weren’t asking an incubus about his lifestyle.

“We feed off of the energy that people give off when they’re… You know… Doing stuff,” he clumsily explains when Seokjin asks how he benefits from his job. “It’s like how humans are fueled from eating food. The more the person is, uh, enjoying themself, the better it is.”

Seokjin stares at him flatly. “You can just say it. I don’t care.” It’s a look that he sometimes gives Jimin whenever he tries to avoid sensitive topics and ends up stuttering out words with the same elegance of somebody struggling to grip a wet bar of soap.

This is the first time that he’s said something to convey this irritation, though. “Wh-what?” Jimin asks, subconsciously backing further into his chair to make himself smaller.

“You keep treating me like I’m fragile, as if you think that I’ll just, I dunno, burst into flames if you talk about sex.” Seokjin makes a big gesture with his hands at the phrase ‘burst into flames’, rolling his eyes. “Just fucking say it.”

Jimin understands that he has fucked up, but he doesn’t know precisely how and he doesn’t know how to fix it. His teeth catch instinctively on his lower lip, nibbling on it as he’s been prone to do these days. “I just… Didn’t want to upset you?”

“You’re not going to upset me. I asked you a question about it, so surely it’s obvious that I can handle you answering it.” Seokjin speaks slowly, carefully enunciating each word and looking like he’s physically holding himself back.

“But when I arrived-”

“I don’t give a shit how I was when you showed up, you don’t have the right to dictate what I’m comfortable with and what I’m not just because of one thing that happened when you barely even know me.” A wave of anger comes from Seokjin as he slams his hand on the table, and then looks at his own fist in surprise as if he didn’t expect himself to do that. He turns to walk a few feet away, no longer looking at Jimin.

Jimin is hurt. He honestly thought that he knew a lot about Seokjin at this point. Maybe not everything, and maybe nothing specific about his sexuality, but he knew that he’s asexual and that means that he doesn’t like sex. Panicking, he tries to explain himself. “I don’t get it, I thought that you don’t like sex.” He’s lost, he’s so fucking lost.

“Not liking sex doesn’t mean that I’m a fucking kid!” Seokjin explodes, face red. He takes a long breath, bracing himself on the countertop, then he abruptly gets up to leave. “Going to work,” he mutters bluntly as he closes the door behind him.

Jimin is sure that he said just a few hours ago that he doesn’t have to go to work today.

He stands there, mouth open, staring at the door as if Seokjin will just come back at any moment, like Seokjin will come back and calmly explain exactly what he wants Jimin to do in the future.

He’s good at making people feel good because he always knows exactly what they want. He has no idea what Seokjin wants from him. Even when he makes a conscious effort to make things work out, he got it all wrong.

Legs shaky, he backs into the couch and collapses onto it.

He really thought that he was doing the right thing. He saw that the prospect of having sex with somebody made Seokjin panic, and the logical explanation seemed to be to avoid the subject with him at all costs. He thought that it would be like talking about spiders to someone with arachnophobia- they usually get all jittery and ask if you could change the subject. Apparently it isn’t like that.

Jimin really wishes that he could find a single thing about Seokjin that he understood. He thought that he understood this asexual thing, at least to some extent, but it’s clear that he was wrong.

He doesn’t like making people mad. He really doesn’t like making people mad. He doesn’t remember the last time that somebody was mad at him. His whole thing is making people feel good, and having somebody be mad at him feels like the biggest failure that there is. It’s on the same level of disinterest, if not worse, because at least disinterest isn’t strong negative emotion. Disinterest can at least be fixed by being more appealing, pulling some more strings.

Jimin does not know how to fix this.

Seokjin is clearly uncomfortable with his presence and doesn’t want him around. Everything that has happened since Jimin showed up- the blanket, the jokes, taking him out to do errands with him- was just for the sake of being polite and it’s so painfully obvious now. He would rather if Jimin were gone, because of course he would. Anyone in Seokjin’s position would want Jimin gone.

If he were in one of those dramatic romantic movies that he finds mortals watching all the time, he would hastily grab all of his things and run out of the door, arms full.

He doesn’t have any things to grab, so once he regains the ability to move he just walks out of the door.


Finding his way around the city is easier than it was the second day he was here and somehow found a club on his own, but he still isn’t very good at knowing where to go.

Seokjin taught him to memorise certain landmarks, like bus stops and convenience stores and that one apartment with the bright yellow curtains. He taught him how to use these recognisable things to help him find his way around.

The issue here is that there isn’t really anywhere in particular to go. He can’t use these things to show him which directions to take if he doesn’t even know where he’s going.

Jimin resigns himself to a long night of wandering until he detects one of his own so that they can help him get home. It’ll happen eventually; it’s such a densely populated area that there are bound to be some jobs being done around here.

He shoves his hands in his pockets to keep them warm, and in doing so he realises that he’s wearing Seokjin’s clothes. He didn’t have any clothes of his own other than what he had arrived in, and the clothes that he wears when he’s working more closely resemble lingerie than the practical, reasonable clothing that mortals wear. Seokjin had given him some clothes to wear when they went outside so that Jimin wouldn’t get cold or attract any unwanted attention.

(The attention wouldn’t exactly have been unwanted, but Jimin didn’t tell him that. Didn’t want to upset him. In retrospect, maybe Seokjin wanted him to just come out and say things like that.)

Because he’s wearing Seokjin’s clothes, everything is a little too big for him. The bottoms of his jeans are rolled up to prevent them from dragging against the floor, and the sweater goes halfway down his thighs. He could wear this thing like a dress. He has seen a lot of women do that. He thinks that it’s cute- maybe one day he’ll try it so that he can be cute, too, if cute is something that he’s even capable of being.

Wearing Seokjin’s clothes wouldn’t be a problem if it weren’t for Jimin’s sense of smell. Having such a refined sense of smell is incredibly useful, but now that he has registered that he’s wearing Seokjin’s clothes, Seokjin is all he can smell.

He resists the urge to bring his sleeve up to his nose and take a deep inhale. That won’t do him any good in the slightest, but he really wants to do it anyway. It’s not his fault that Seokjin smells good, like something warm and comfortable.

As he walks down endless streets, he finds his eyes catching on a lot of the mortals he passes by. He could do with finding somebody to fuck while he’s out here because his energy levels are getting low. He’ll have to keep a look out for an inconspicuous place to do it.

Finding victims this way feels like when mortals go into the woods with their guns to shoot animals. He’s good at it so it’s not difficult, but it’s unnecessarily complicated, like how most humans would rather buy pre prepared meat covered in plastic at the supermarket than make their own kills. It’s so much more convenient to show up in someone’s residence, tell them that you’re there to make their darkest, dirtiest fantasies come true, and get straight to it.

It’s only been a few days, and he already misses it dearly. Wearing human clothes and walking through human streets feels suffocating.


He can smell something.

Jimin freezes in place, much to the irritation of the people walking around him, and sniffs hard. He recognises that warm, sticky sweetness, the manufactured lust that hangs heavy around bodies like his own. Only a mile away at most.

He immediately breaks into a run, almost letting out a scream of relief as he roughly shoves past the mortals in his way. He found someone! He’ll tell them what happened and then they’ll sort things out and he’ll be home again, and he won’t have to worry about Seokjin or what anything meant. It’ll be gone, just a weird memory that he avoids thinking about.

His body is made for many things, but it isn’t made for running. The air rips harshly out of his throat as he runs, muscles aching more with every step that he takes. It hurts, it hurts so much to force himself to move this quickly, but he ignores it as much as he can. He’ll rest later.

He runs and he runs and he runs, occasionally taking sharp turns as the direction that the scent is coming from becomes clearer.

It takes him to a street that looks just like all of the others. He doesn’t know where he is, but that won’t matter anymore.

Jimin lets his body slow down to a brisk walk, staring with wide eyes at each building that he passes as if he would be able to see for himself where his fellow demon is. He’s pushed his body so far that it’s malfunctioning a little, vision hazy and chest feeling like there’s been a hole ripped through it, but he can pick up the scent just fine.

As his heartbeat tries to settle, he takes one last inhale and narrows in on his target.

It’s the building across the street, the one with a cat in the bottom window. It’s right there! He made it!

Running- or stumbling- carelessly across the road, not giving a damn whether there are cars or not, Jimin wonders who it is. Is it somebody that he knows? He doesn’t know all of his colleagues, but he knows most of them. He hopes that it’s somebody that he knows so that they don’t have to awkwardly introduce themselves.

He’s at the door, body instinctively curling inwards as he tries to catch his breath. He lifts his fist to bang hard on the door, but he stops mid-knock.

It’s gone. The scent is gone. The demon, whoever they were, is gone. They have completed the deed and have returned home.

Jimin throws his body against the door, sinking to the ground as he cries.


He slumps away miserably into a back alley and leans against the wall to regain his breath, taking in the people who pass by and waiting for someone who wants him. It doesn’t take him very long.

He harshly fucks a woman in the shadows, hand braced over her mouth to keep her from making too much noise and grinning when she sucks messily on his fingers. He grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin of her neck, sucking and nibbling until purple bruises bloom in a path from her collarbone to her ear. He gives her a soft kiss on the forehead in an unexplainable move of tenderness, and then she leaves.

He keeps going until he’s had his fill, until he has no choice but to accept the inevitable.

He has to go back to Seokjin.


It takes at least an hour to find his way back, asking people on the street for directions to the train station that he knows isn’t far from where Seokjin lives. It’s easy to get answers from people with his charm.

From the train station, he’s close enough to use his sense of smell. After refusing to let himself breathe in Seokjin’s scent from the clothes that he’s wearing, he finally lifts his sleeve from his nose and inhales deeply. It takes a while to detect Seokjin’s scent amongst the mass of other nearby people, but once he does he knows where he’s going. He feels a little like a dog.

By the time he finds himself at Seokjin’s door, he’s exhausted. He desperately needs to rest.

He doesn’t want to knock. He doesn’t want to knock on the door and tell Seokjin that he has to stay here because he has nowhere else to go, but he has to.

Never until now had he fully appreciated how discreet teleportation is. If he were able to do that now, he could just materialise on the couch and fall asleep and deal with things in the morning. He wishes now, more than ever, that the contracts didn’t forbid him from coming home until he’d done what he was sent to do.

The door opens sharply to reveal Seokjin, eyes wide and slightly out of breath as if he had just ran down the stairs. “Jimin-ssi?”

Jimin looks down, too ashamed to make eye contact. “I’ll stay out of your way from now on, I promise, I just didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Seokjin takes a step towards him and then steadies himself, arms outstretched almost as if he was about to hug him, before sliding them into his pockets. “I thought you had gone.”

“I was supposed to. I’m sorry.”

“What are you talking about?” Seokjin shakes his head, seemingly more to himself than to Jimin. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you before, I know that you were just trying to be considerate. People have treated me differently all of my life and it’s kind of a sensitive subject for me when people act like I can’t handle hearing about things, that’s all. I’m still perfectly happy to have you stay with me, you don’t need to look for somewhere else to go.” He steps back, gesturing for Jimin to come in.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Seokjin says firmly.

Jimin feels like a stray puppy that has been picked up by a selfless stranger, only to run away and then be found and taken home again. He doesn’t understand what he has done to deserve such hospitality. “But all I’ve done is make you feel bad,” he mumbles pathetically as he takes a step inside.

Seokjin hums, eyebrows shooting upwards as if he’s mentally weighing up how much he agrees with what Jimin has said. He decides that he disagrees. “That isn’t all you’ve done. You’ve kept me company, and I appreciate that. Also,” he laughs awkwardly, “you saved me from what could have become one of the worst experiences of my life.”

That doesn’t sound like much. Only doing things that mortals want you to do is one of the first rules that Jimin learned. “That’s just basic decency.”

“Not everybody has basic decency,” Seokjin says, and there’s a sense of finality to his words that makes Jimin reluctant to object. “I’m getting takeout soon, do you want some?”

Seokjin accepts him back as if he had never tried to run away. They definitely need to have a conversation about what is and isn’t okay, because Jimin still isn’t sure, but for now he’s happy with being forgiven.


“I don’t experience it myself,” Seokjin says conversationally, “but I can imagine what it’s like. I think that it’s probably very similar to the animalistic desire that I feel towards certain foods.”

He’s talking about the sensation of arousal.

“Sometimes I see food and I think, ‘oh my god, I need it, I need to eat it right now’, you know? I definitely understand the desire to put something in your mouth.” He holds up one of the discs of fried dough that he has stacked up in front of him. “This is hotteok. They’re pancakes with a sweet filling. Don’t you just wanna fucking demolish it?” He waves it around for emphasis.

Jimin looks thoughtfully at the hotteok. He does kind of want to bite it, but it doesn’t compare by any means to his desire to sink his teeth into a mortal’s smooth flesh like he did earlier.

Seokjin gives him the hotteok and he takes a nibble. Then he takes a larger bite.

“I get it,” he decides after he swallows. “I understand the comparison.” It’s not quite the same, but it’s a good comparison.

Looking pleased with himself, Seokjin picks up a hotteok for himself and starts to eat. “They’re more of a snack than a meal,” he explains, cheeks bulging in a way that should be unflattering but somehow isn’t. “I’ll keep some of these for later so that we don’t eat too many.”

Jimin thinks that, considering he’s spent so many years deprived of the wonder that is fried batter, he should be allowed to eat as many as he wants.

When they have finished eating (which does not take very long due to the alarming speed at which they are consuming the hotteok) Seokjin wipes the grease off of his hands and looks at Jimin, sitting across the table from him. “I think that we need to have a conversation to clarify some things.”

Jimin agrees, but is terrified regardless. He really doesn’t want to accidentally say something wrong again. Putting on a neutral expression that Seokjin hopefully can’t see through, he nods. “Yeah.”

“Do you have any questions about asexuality?”

“I have so many questions,” Jimin says emphatically, before he can stop himself.

“Hit me with them,” Seokjin says, smiling dazzlingly. “If there is anything that I don’t want to answer, then I’ll tell you that I don’t want to answer it. I’m pretty open about it, though, considering I’ve already been asked every question you could possibly think of at least ten times in the past month. I’ve gotten used to telling people this stuff.”

Jimin takes a moment to think of what he wants to ask. Even if Seokjin is open to him asking whatever he wants, he still thinks that he should at least start with something simple and easy to answer. He settles with a statement rather than a question. “Being asexual means that you don’t want to have sex with people.”

“Not necessarily.” Oh? “It’s not about sex drive, it’s more about experiencing sexual attraction. Or lack of it,” he laughs. “It’s like a spectrum, everyone experiences things differently. Some people only experience sexual attraction sometimes and some people don’t at all. Some asexual people have sex and some don’t.”

“... And you don’t?” Jimin prompts.

Seokjin nods, eyeing the remaining hotteok as if he’s considering eating another, tongue darting quickly across his lower lip. “I’m the textbook asexual, the kind that most people think of. I’m not into people that way and I don’t like sex, either.” Reluctantly, he gets up to put the hotteok away, presumably to prevent himself from succumbing to the ‘animalistic desire’ that he was talking about earlier.

Jimin watches him from behind as he puts the food away, eyes catching on the shape of his torso as he often does. When he realises what he’s doing, he forces his eyes down to his intertwined hands instead. He shouldn’t be looking at Seokjin that way. He knows that he shouldn’t be making assumptions about what Seokjin would be comfortable or not with- he learned that the hard way- but it feels like looking at his body too closely is a bad thing.

He doesn’t know what to do about that. Jimin can’t help the way that he automatically views people in a sexual way, considering that every mortal that he has interacted with for years and years has been for sexual purposes. He can’t help his thoughts, no matter how bad he might feel about it.

For a moment, he considers asking Seokjin about it. ‘What do I do about the fact that you’re hot and I’m used to being turned on when I see hot people?

Maybe another time, but not now. Most of the questions that he has in mind are embarrassing, but this is even more embarrassing because it makes him feel like he doesn’t have self control. He’s meant to be in control, both of himself and of those he interacts with, at all times, even if it doesn’t appear that way at first.

The solution he’s giving himself right now is just to not look. He’ll be fine with not looking. He can avert his eyes.

To fill the silence, Jimin asks another question. “Is there a reason behind it, or are people just… Like that?” He cringes at his own wording.

Thankfully, Seokjin doesn’t seem to take offense. “A lot of asexuals are ‘just like that’,” he says, smiling at the phrase as if it entertains him. ”It can be a response to something traumatic, but that’s not usually the case.”

“How did you know that you are? Is it like being gay?”

Seokjin sits back down. “For me, it kind of was. I found out that I was bi before I found out that I was ace, and it felt like basically the same thing. I realised that I didn’t think or care about sex, just like I realised that I like boys as much as I like girls.”

That has Jimin confused. “You’re both?”

“Yep.” Seokjin looks at him with mild amusement, and Jimin can tell that he knows exactly what question is in his head.

He asks anyway. “How?”

“I like people romantically,” Seokjin says. “I don’t want to have sex with them, but other than that I like people in the same way that everyone else does.”

Jimin thinks that he gets it now. Well, he doesn’t get it. He absolutely does not get it. But he gets it in theory, and that’s better than how he was before when he knew that Seokjin was asexual but didn’t know much of what it meant other than that sex was not going to happen.

“You didn’t want me to censor myself before,” Jimin starts. “Are you okay with people talking about sex? Is there anything that you don’t like hearing?”

“I don’t have any problem with people talking about it, as long as it doesn’t directly involve me. I don’t like people talking about me in a sexual way, but I don’t care when people talk about sex in general.” Jimin feels a jolt of guilt. “So, for example, I don’t care when my coworkers talk about hookups, but I hate when they ask me if I’ve had any. It makes me feel kinda gross.”

Jimin exhales, looking at his hands again and nibbling at his lower lip. “Okay.”

“Any more questions?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re free to ask me at any time if you ever have more,” Seokjin says, and Jimin feels guilty, so guilty.


Seokjin is brushing his teeth. He’s looking at Jimin through the mirror, which would be weird if it weren’t for the fact that Jimin is standing in the doorway, watching him. He was the one being weird first.

“You just do that every day?” Jimin asks, watching as Seokjin alternates angles with his brush to reach different parts of his mouth.

Seokjin spits into the sink, and turns to look directly at Jimin. There’s a little white froth at the corner of his lower lip, which Jimin averts his eyes from. “Twice, yeah.”

Jimin hums noncommittally. There are still a lot of human habits that he doesn’t know much about, and teeth brushing is one of them. “We don’t need to do that because we don’t eat food. Our bodies don’t deteriorate or take much damage because we heal really fast. Got to stay in peak condition so we can work efficiently.” He isn’t sure why he’s divulging this unnecessary information, but he feels the urge to keep a conversation going.

Seokjin raises his eyebrows in mild interest as he resumes brushing his teeth.

“What’s it like?”

“... Brushing my teeth?”

Jimin nods.

Seokjin laughs a little under his breath, and Jimin remembers that, to a mortal, asking what tooth brushing is like is a really stupid question. “A bit boring. You just kind of stand there and scrub at your teeth for a few minutes. It can be quite relaxing, though, especially when you’re winding down before bed. Do you want to try it?”

Jimin decides that he does. He nods, still looking at the toothbrush in Seokjin’s hand.

He expects Seokjin to hand him the one that he’s holding, but he doesn’t. Instead, he rummages through his toiletries, toothbrush hanging limply from his mouth, and picks another one out. He rinses the other toothbrush under the tap, squeezes a blob of paste onto the bristles and hands it to Jimin. “You’re lucky that mine came in a pack of two so I have a spare.”

Jimin looks at himself in the mirror, as if doing so would help him know what he’s doing. His eyes travel to Seokjin next to him. He knew that Seokjin was taller than him, but seeing himself right next to him makes the height difference feel more defined. He isn’t sure how he feels about being the short one.

Seeming to notice that Jimin is at a loss of what to do, Seokjin uses himself as a demonstration. “You open your mouth, and use the bristles to scrub at your teeth. The toothpaste will go all frothy, don’t swallow it. If there’s too much in your mouth, just spit it out and keep going.”

Jimin nods slowly, staring at him with wide eyes as if he’s being divulged important information. He repeats the action that Seokjin demonstrated. It feels very awkward. As soon as the paste- which froths up once he starts brushing, just as Seokjin said- touches his tongue, he tastes something cool and fresh.

“It tastes-” Toothpastes dribbles unflatteringly out of his mouth as he tries to speak. He spits it out into the sink, wiping his chin. “Tastes cold.”

Seokjin nods sagely. “That’s mint. A lot of toothpaste has mint flavour.”

“Huh,” Jimin says.

They brush their teeth together in near silence, Seokjin occasionally giving advice like “press down harder” and “make sure to get the ones at the back”. Jimin thinks that Seokjin has been brushing his teeth for longer than a couple of minutes, which seems to be the standard. He suspects that he’s doing it for longer than necessary so that he can do it alongside Jimin for moral support.

Seokjin spits into the sink again and starts rinsing his toothbrush under the tap. “You can stop now.”

Jimin spits out the last of his toothpaste, then he looks down at the toothpaste that he spat out and the toothpaste that Seokjin spat out and realises that it’s a different colour. “Why is mine pink?”

“Pink?” Seokjin looks into the sink. “Oh. It looks like there’s blood in it.”

Jimin stares blankly at him. “Blood? Why would there be blood?” The bristles on the toothbrush felt far too soft to draw blood.

“Open your mouth.” That’s a command that Jimin has received countless times over the years, and he instinctively has his mouth open before Seokjin has even finished the sentence. “Ah- I don’t need your tongue, I was going to check where the blood is coming from.”

Feeling embarrassed, Jimin withdraws his tongue back into his mouth. Usually when somebody wants his mouth open, they also want his tongue out. It’s an instinctual thing.

Looking a little pink around the ears, Seokjin peers inside Jimin’s mouth. His eyes scan around quickly until his eyes catch on something. “You’ve been biting the inside of your mouth?”

Jimin blinks. “Have I?”

Seokjin points to the mirror, and Jimin looks at himself, mouth still open. The inside of his lower lip looks all chewed up, flesh red and ragged.

“I didn’t know I was doing that.” That’s not entirely true. Jimin knew that he had been biting his lip a lot recently, but he didn’t realise that he was doing actual damage to the inside of his mouth. He didn’t used to do that- he would have noticed while with clients.

Seokjin looks at him with concern in his eyes. “Didn’t you say that you heal fast? How fast do you mean?”

Feeling like he’s in trouble for some reason, Jimin mumbles under his breath, “Wounds usually close up after a few hours.”

“So you did that within the past few hours.” Seokjin says it like a statement, not a question. His scent has changed to something that Jimin isn’t very familiar with, and he can’t pinpoint quite what emotion it means. If he were to take a guess, he thinks it would be sympathy, but that doesn’t seem quite right either.

He’s definitely not mad at him, anyway, so Jimin’s not sure why he feels like Seokjin has discovered something that he shouldn’t have.

Washing his toothbrush like he saw Seokjin doing, Jimin mutters, “I guess.”

“Do you have any healthier coping mechanisms that you can use when you get anxious?”

Jimin is generally used to Seokjin saying unexpected things by now, but this still throws him off a bit. “... I don’t get anxious. I’m not made for that, it would be really bad for my job-”

“I’m not going to tell you how you’re feeling,” Seokjin interrupts. “But I’ve noticed that you fidget a lot and sometimes you look like you’d rather be anywhere else but here. You don’t sleep much, either, and don’t tell me that you don’t need to sleep because you look exhausted.” He holds his hand out. Silently, ashamed, Jimin gives him the toothbrush. “You’re really far out of your comfort zone. It’s normal to be anxious.”

That all makes sense, but it also doesn’t. “I get what you’re saying, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m not meant to feel emotions like that.”

Seokjin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as he puts the toothbrushes away. There’s a sharp tang to his scent, and for a moment Jimin thinks that he’s going to start yelling. “Jimin-ah,” he says softly, but there’s an edge to his voice, “I mean this in the nicest possible way, but I don’t give a damn what you’re meant to do or what you’re meant to feel. Regardless of what or who you are, how have you been feeling recently? Be honest with me.”

“Why do you care?” Jimin asks before he can stop himself, defensive.

For once, it’s Seokjin who looks stumped. From what he can see on his face, Jimin thinks that he doesn’t fully know the answer himself. “I don’t need a reason to care about people,” he settles on after a few moments of consideration.

’I’m not people,’ Jimin wants to say, but he doesn’t want to see the sadness that appears on Seokjin’s face when he says things like that.

He doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say anything. It’s the end of the conversation.


Over the past few days, Jimin has been switching up where he sleeps. Seokjin says that he’s always welcome to share the bed, since it’s more than big enough for two people and it’s much more comfortable than the couch. Jimin still chooses the couch unless he feels like Seokjin would benefit from the company, though. He doesn’t feel like he deserves to share the bed.

There is also the fact that sharing a bed with someone in an entirely platonic way feels very weird. It’s not a bad weird, but the weirdness is still enough to make him feel on edge. Sleeping on the couch is less comfortable physically but more comfortable mentally.

He’s always restless at night, but tonight he’s more restless than usual. The conversation that he and Seokjin had after brushing their teeth keeps running through his head. He feels like he didn’t handle it very well; after all the kindness that Seokjin has offered him, the least that he could do is be honest to him about some things.

It’s just that being honest is terrifying. It’s admitting weakness, it’s admitting defeat. Honesty was never required for his existence.

He finds himself at the door to Seokjin’s bedroom door again and knocks hesitantly, like a child. He’s centuries older than Seokjin, and yet he feels like a child around him.

After opening the door, he just says it as quickly as possible before he can back out. “I’ve been scared. Since I came here, I mean.”

Seokjin looks up at him with those kind, gentle eyes, and Jimin wants to cry.

“Everything feels so wrong and I hate not knowing exactly what’s going on or what I’m meant to do. I feel uncomfortable. I don’t like it.” Now that he started talking, it’s easy to continue, although his thoughts are coming out all jumbled up. “It’s not your fault, though. It’s really not your fault. I kind of like being around you, actually- not just kind of, a lot. You’re very nice to me, even though I don’t know why. It’s just that everything that’s happened since I showed up has made me feel like I don’t know anything about myself, and I hate it so much.”

The urge to cry grows stronger, so he rubs his hands up against his eyes until he’s sure that no tears are going to come out. He’s been allowing himself to cry a few times recently, but crying in front of somebody else feels like a step too far. Especially in front of Seokjin. The confession that he just made may make him seem weak, but he doesn’t want to seem too weak, even if he is.

He’s not sure if the way that Seokjin looks like he isn’t surprised in the slightest by anything that he just said is a good thing or a bad thing.

Instead of responding directly, Seokjin pats the bed next to him. “Want to sit down?”

“I’m not sure.” Jimin is reminded of their first meeting, when Seokjin entered the room and Jimin asked him to join him on the bed. He isn’t sure at what point their power dynamic shifted so drastically.

Seokjin does a little nod of acceptance, leaning back against the headboard before speaking. “I’ve been feeling the same way,” he admits breezily, as if doing so is effortless. “I thought that I would hate having you around for fairly obvious reasons, but I don’t and it’s confusing. It’s made me wonder if I’ve somehow been wrong about myself all this time, because I don’t understand how I could be so not uncomfortable around someone whose life basically revolves around something that I’m uncomfortable with.” He juts out his lower lip in thought. “I’ve decided that it’s best to just go along with things and remember that not everything in life is going to make sense in the way that you thought it would. If things feel alright then there’s no need to question it. That’s what I think, anyway.”

Jimin just stares at him. He doesn’t know what else to do. He feels like what he said lacked so much emotional intelligence in comparison to what Seokjin said. He’s been so reluctant to feel things that he hasn’t put much time to actually think about how to deal with what he’s feeling, while Seokjin seems to have basically solved his own problem.

In turn, he’s also given Jimin a solution. A flimsy solution that he doesn’t completely trust yet, but a solution nevertheless. ’Not everything in life is going to make sense in the way that you thought it would. If things feel alright then there’s no need to question it.’

Nothing about living here makes sense, but that’s only because Jimin keeps trying to compare it to how life usually is. He’s in a completely different environment and being treated in a completely different way, but that doesn’t mean that it has to not make sense. His normal life and his current life can both make sense at the same time, no matter how temporary the present situation may be.

He’s an incubus and he has a very straightforward job in which he has sex with people, feeds off of their energy, and then leaves. He likes his job. But he’s also currently staying with an asexual man who treats him with more respect and dignity than he can recall ever being given, and he’s allowed to like that, too.

And he really does like it. He’s scared to admit it, but he does. He likes Seokjin and he likes the way that he says things to him that nobody else has said.

“Can you say that thing to me again?” He asks shyly, finally shuffling towards the bed.

Seokjin shuffles over to give him space and pulls back the covers so that he can climb in. “What thing?”

“The thing that you said the first time I slept in here. You said… You called me…” Jimin’s voice trails away nervously.

Recognition flashes across Seokjin’s face. “Ah,” he laughs pleasantly, “do you mean when I said you were beautiful?”

Jimin’s hands come up to cover his flaming cheeks, but he can feel himself smiling. He wiggles his legs quickly to try to expel the flustered energy. “That, yeah.” His voice comes out small and breathless.

Unlike the first time he heard it, he lets himself enjoy the compliment. It’s an unfamiliar compliment, but he has decided that he’s still allowed to like it.

“Do you like when I say that?” Seokjin asks as if he doesn’t already know the answer.

“Mhm,” Jimin’s voice comes out muffled behind his hands. “I don’t know why you said it but- it was nice.”

“If I think a nice thing about someone, I usually say it,” Seokjin says simply. “I have never yet met a person who doesn’t like compliments, even if not everyone knows how to respond to them.”

Jimin’s face still feels warm. He wants to compliment Seokjin back, can think of so many things that he could say, but saying them is harder than it sounds. “You always say things like it’s so easy. I don’t know how you do that.”

Seokjin looks up at the ceiling like he’s thinking about it for a moment. “It probably seems like I find life things easier to deal with because, well, I’ve dealt with them for a lot longer than you. Your interactions with other people have been very limited, right? I’ve been dealing with people and emotions and stuff for nearly thirty years. You get used to it with time, and after a while you find that you can’t be bothered making things more complicated than they need to be. Life is complicated enough as it is.” He sits up suddenly. “Actually, that reminds me. I know that you’re immortal or whatever, but do you know how old your body is? Or meant to be?”

Jimin isn’t quite sure. He hasn’t aged since he was reborn, and that was a very, very long time ago. “I think… Mid twenties?”

“Ha! I’m your hyung.”

Jimin narrows his eyes. “I was born centuries ago.”

“Honorifics don’t care about immortality. I’m officially declaring you as my little baby dongsaeng.”

They’ve been referring to each other as Seokjin-ssi and Jimin-ssi like acquaintances, but Jimin supposes that they can’t consider each other acquaintances anymore. They hadn’t discussed honorifics until now, and Jimin wonders if Seokjin was waiting to come up with a reason to claim that he’s older than him.

He doesn’t mind. He thinks that, mentally, he’s the younger one between Seokjin and himself, anyway.

He pretends to be very reluctant to agree. “Okay, fine. If you really insist,” he says, sighing loudly.

“I do really insist,” Seokjin says, grinning.

As Jimin looks at him, he thinks that he couldn’t possibly bring himself to stamp on the butterflies in his stomach, even if he wanted to. They’re too delicate, too beautiful to kill so brutally. He lets them live.

Chapter Text

Seokjin takes him out shopping for clothes.

Before they leave, Jimin argues that because his stay here is temporary, that there won't be any use for the clothes when he's gone. Seokjin just shrugs it off. He says that even if he's only here for a few more days, at least he'll be wearing things that fit instead of drowning in Seokjin's clothes.

Jimin likes drowning in Seokjin's clothes, but the thought of having clothing of his own intrigues him, so he eventually goes along with it.

He finds that he likes comfortable clothes. He likes things that are soft and easy to move in but still make him look good, with low necklines that are big enough for an exposed shoulder to peek through. He likes hats and he likes sunglasses and he likes jewellery, especially necklaces and clip-on earrings that have strings of jewels dangling down. He wonders if he would be able to get his ears pierced before he goes home.

He doesn't let Seokjin buy everything that he likes, but he nevertheless has a few outfits by the time they’re finished. He's excited, buzzing with energy at being able to walk around in clothes that he picked himself and not just because it's what he has to wear or because it's what Seokjin has lying around.

There aren't really things that are just Jimin's. These clothes, even if they're inevitably going to be left with Seokjin once he leaves- he tries to not think about it and it seems that Seokjin does the same- are his, and he loves it.

Arms weighed down with bags, they settle down in a coffee shop. Jimin discovers that coffee is nothing like anything he has ever consumed before, and he hates it. It's too bitter and it makes him gag. He didn't know he even had the ability to gag.

Seokjin's eyes squint as he laughs, patting Jimin on the back. "I guess demons don't like coffee," he says, pushing a thick, flaky pastry towards him. "Try that, instead. It's sweet."

The pastry appeals much more to Jimin’s taste buds, and he nibbles meekly on it as Seokjin drinks the coffee for him. He doesn't know how he can swallow such a disgusting beverage. Mortals are clearly much stronger than Jimin had thought.

He zones out, staring at Seokjin's Adam's apple as it bobs with every swallow and quickly averting his eyes when he notices what he’s doing. If Seokjin notices, he doesn't comment on it.

Something he notices, though, is that when he finds himself staring at Seokjin, it isn't always in a sexual way. In fact, when he thinks about it, it isn't like that at all. He isn’t sure if it’s always been this way and he just never noticed because admiring people has always been a prerequisite for sex, or if he’s learning to perceive things differently. Either way, he’s glad that he's just looking because Seokjin is nice to look at. Jimin isn't sure how or why, but it seems like the better he gets to know Seokjin, the nicer he is to look at.

It's as if his personality shines out of his skin. As if when Jimin's eyes catch on his broad shoulders, they're also catching on his kindness and generosity.

He laughs under his breath, because that doesn’t make any sense at all.

Seokjin raises his eyebrows at him questioningly.

"Nothing," Jimin mumbles, shaking his head. "I just thought of something."

"Care to share with the class?"

Jimin isn't sure what he means by 'share with the class', but he doesn't question it. Mortals use a lot of words and phrases that don't make sense, like one great big inside joke that Jimin isn't a part of.

He wants to be brave and say what he was thinking. He wants to tell Seokjin that he thinks that he looks like he was sculpted out of marble by angels, and that he’s a wonderful person. He wants to compliment him in the same way that Seokjin has complimented him, like it's the easiest thing to do.

It isn’t easy, though. It's too hard to make his mouth form the words, so Jimin shakes his head again, giving a small apologetic smile.

Seokjin doesn't push further. It's as if he knows that Jimin would tell him if he could, and he's perfectly fine with waiting until he can. He's so patient. Jimin likes him so much.

Liking him feels nice. It's nice to accept that he really really likes somebody, even if he doesn't know what it means or what he's meant to do about it, even if there are so many things that make it complicated.

Jimin finishes his pastry and brushes all of the little flakes off of his new clothes. Food is really messy, sometimes.

When they are finished in the cafe, they walk around aimlessly for a while. Seokjin takes Jimin on a stroll through a park and shows him all the quiet areas that most people don't know about. When their feet hurt and the weight of the bags make their arms ache, they go home.

Jimin thinks that he wants to spend time with Seokjin like this every day. He wants to go to different places with him and experience new things like coffee and pastries with him. If he ever buys clothes again, he wants to do that with Seokjin, too.

For a moment, he allows him to imagine something impossible. He wishes that he could take Seokjin with him when he goes back home. He wishes that he could return to the life that he's used to with a new outlook on the world and with his new favourite person by his side.

It would never happen, he knows that. He can't take mortals back with him and, besides, just because Seokjin is okay with being around one incubus doesn't mean that he would be comfortable being surrounded by them.

They're from two separate worlds. Jimin has always known this, and the knowledge is bittersweet.

When the day ends, he climbs into bed with Seokjin. He doesn't sleep on the couch anymore. The bed is big enough for the both of them, and he likes the warmth of being with another person- the warmth of being with Seokjin.


"You should tell me when you're going out," Seokjin says mildly.

Jimin's head darts up. "Huh?"

Seokjin continues, without looking up from the vegetables that he chops with expert precision. "I know what you're doing when you go out on your own. At least, I think I do." He stops to take in Jimin's expression. "Judging by the way you're looking at me, I think I'm right."

Jimin stares back at him, eyes wide. He feels like a dog that has been caught chewing on a pair of expensive shoes. He knows that there's nothing wrong with going out and fucking people because he needs to do it and Seokjin knows that, but at the same time, well, he's going out and fucking people. Strangers, no less.

("This may be a strange question," Seokjin says once, putting on his best unbothered expression despite clearly feeling a little awkward. "But, is it safe? Having sex with so many different people?"

Jimin doesn't understand why he would ask that for a moment. He has to remember that things are very different to mortals than they are to people like him. "Are you talking about diseases?"


"Ah, we don't get those. They aren't compatible with our bodies, so there's no chance of us catching or transmitting anything."

Seokjin nods slowly. "Alright. Cool. Well, I'm glad you're safe.")

Even if Seokjin knows that he can't catch any sexually transmitted diseases, it doesn't change the fact that the fact that Jimin keeps going out to have sex with random people is probably weird to him.

"I was just thinking," Seokjin says, suddenly looking more nervous as he fiddles with the collar on his shirt, inadvertently drawing Jimin's attention to his collarbones. He's still in his work clothes and his work shirts all have very stiff collars. "The next time you go out, you should tell me in advance so that I can cook myself a nice meal. You know how I said that I think the closest thing I get to being turned on is wanting to eat food. It'll be like we're both having a good time but in different ways." He looks at Jimin, flashing a cheeky smile.

Jimin laughs. Despite how much he's gotten used to Seokjin saying unpredictable things, he still manages to catch him off guard sometimes. "If you really want to," he giggles. He pauses for a moment, suddenly shy again. "I'm probably going to go out again tonight. I'm feeling kinda drained."

"Cool," Seokjin says brightly, "I hope you have fun! I'll get my cookbook out before you go. Do you want me to help dress you up? I have some nice stuff you could wear."

Jimin is stunned. He knew that Seokjin would be nice about it, supportive even, but he didn't think he'd be willing to be personally involved. He blinks a few times. "Sure?" It would be nice to wear something other than comfortable everyday clothes. When they went shopping, Jimin had been so excited about sweaters that he had forgotten to buy anything sexier.

Seokjin claps his hands together, looking pleased. Excited, even. He puts the knife down and runs into his room without another word.

There are some ruffling sounds. After a few minutes, Seokjin makes a noise of excitement. "Would you wear makeup?" He asks from his room.

Jimin has not worn makeup before, but he has seen it on a lot of mortals- women, mostly- and it makes them look very pretty. The thought of Seokjin owning makeup brings a warm feeling in his belly. Images flash through his mind of Seokjin with dark eyeliner and shiny, glossed lips.

He pushes his knuckles into his eyes to try to banish the thought. "Probably," he responds, a few seconds too late.

"I don’t wear it much because it’s too much hassle, but I have some stuff that I used to wear when I went clubbing," Seokjin tells him casually, as if this information isn't rewriting Jimin's perception of the entire world as they speak. "I thought you'd look nice in it."

"Would I?" Jimin asks feebly.

"Yeah, you would."

After Seokjin returns to finish cooking, a noticeable spring in his step as he does, he lets Jimin into his room so he can see the stuff that he's picked out for him. He has little piles of clothes arranged on his bed, complete with footwear.

Jimin encounters a problem when trying to pick out an outfit for himself. As he looks at the clothes, he isn't thinking about himself wearing them- he's thinking about Seokjin wearing them. The fact that they're his clothes means that he's almost definitely worn all of them at least once before. Maybe multiple times. Maybe he has a favourite outfit that he knows makes him look extra good.

Seokjin also shows him his little collection of makeup. Jimin doesn't know what each product is supposed to do, but Seokjin says that he'll put it on for him so that he doesn't have to worry about learning to apply things properly.

"You're going to be so hot, I'm making sure of it," Seokjin says confidently. "Not that you aren't already- ah, you know what I mean." Jimin gets what he means. "Everyone's going to be stumbling over each other to get to you."

Jimin doesn't doubt that, but it makes him feel flustered all the same. There's something about Seokjin saying it to him, Seokjin having faith that he's hot enough to have people all over him, that feels really good.

He hasn't been worried about what he looks like for a while, now. Sure, he would definitely prefer to look like somebody else because that's how he feels most comfortable, but he feels good looking like himself, too.

This may have all been one big mistake, but he can't deny that it's done wonders for his self esteem. He should have gotten stuck in the mortal world without any glamour years ago (although, now he thinks about it, he doesn't think that it would have worked so well if it weren't Seokjin that he was with.)

He puts on the outfit that he picked out- a glittery black ensemble that must be tight on Seokjin’s shoulders but fits loosely on Jimin- and sits down for Seokjin to put makeup on him. He can't see himself in the mirror from where he's at, so he has no idea what he looks like, but he trusts Seokjin to make him look good.

The process of putting makeup is weird and kind of uncomfortable. The application feels like something cold and sometimes wet being applied to his face with tiny brushes, and once it's on it feels like there's an unfamiliar extra layer of skin on his face. Seokjin says that he will get used to it and probably won't even notice it in a few hours.

Despite how weird it feels, it's relaxing to sit obediently and do nothing except what Seokjin tells him to. He closes his eyes when Seokjin tells him to and pursues his lips when Seokjin tells him to and he has no idea why he needs to do those things, but he doesn't question it.

Perhaps the most stressful part of it is how close Seokjin's face is to his. It depends on what part of his face Seokjin is working on, but usually he's only a few inches away at most. Jimin can feel the warm puffs of Seokjin's breath on his face, and it makes him feel dizzy.

He wants to stare into Seokjin's eyes, but he can't because every time they make eye contact his heart races and he has to look away. He wants to lean forward and press his lips against Seokjin's but he can't. He just can't do that.

After a few minutes of Jimin being both very relaxed and very tense at the same time, Seokjin leans back, squints at Jimin's face for a few seconds, and announces that they're done.

When Jimin looks at himself in the mirror, he feels hot as hell. And, perhaps more importantly, he feels beautiful.


The next time that Jimin and Seokjin go out together, there's an interruption.

They're on the way to a park, a different one to last time, when Jimin stops in his tracks, immediately recognising the scent of one of his own. His breath quickens. He's been given a second chance. This is his second chance to get home, and he knows that if he’s going to take it, then he has to take it now.

Seokjin, now a few feet ahead of him, turns around. "Jimin-ah? Are you okay?"

"I have to go. Right now," Jimin says, but his legs aren't moving.

Seokjin looks confused for a moment, staring at Jimin's face for answers. He seems to be able to tell from something in Jimin's expression what is going on, because his shoulders slump in acceptance. "Someone's here?" He asks, visibly deflated.

Jimin nods silently, still frozen in place.

"Will you be coming back?" Seokjin doesn't want Jimin to go. He's never said it outright, but Jimin knows, and Seokjin knows that he knows.

"Probably," Jimin says, breathing quickly with building adrenaline. Even if he does find someone, that doesn't mean that he's going to be able to go home immediately. There will be things to sort out. He's probably going to still be here for a while, no matter what happens.

Seokjin smiles at him and it's like a goodbye, but not. It's a smile that could be a goodbye, but could also be a 'see you later'. Neither of them know.

The frustrating thing about living amongst mortals is that the longer he's here, the less he wants to go back. It's not that he doesn't want to be home, it's just that he will miss it here. He'll even miss the streets and the buses and the shops. He'll miss the food. He'll miss Seokjin.

"Go," Seokjin quietly urges him, and that's what puts his body into action.

He takes off running after the scent. It isn't as far away as it was last time, and he's only running for a few minutes before he finds the building that it's coming from.

He sweet talks somebody into letting him in and sprints up the stairs to the fourth floor.

It's just behind the door. He can smell it; he can hear it.

He knocks, and hopes very hard that the mortal behind the door is polite enough to answer him even in the middle of some undoubtedly excellent intercourse.

At first, he doesn't hear anything. They probably aren't going to answer. He notices that he's chewing on his lip again and tries to stop. It works for about ten seconds before his teeth instinctively clamp back down on the flesh.

Some mumbling can be heard from behind the door. It opens just slightly, revealing a pair of eyes and a glimpse of a bruise covered neck, but not much else.

"Hello, sorry, I'm quite busy right now-" The mortal cuts himself off. His eyes scroll up and down, taking Jimin in, before widening in awe. "Wowzers! I get two?"

The mortal opens the door fully, shamelessly exposing his nude body, littered with scratches and bite marks. It would appear that he likes it rough. He ushers Jimin in without even asking for an explanation, clearly having come to his own conclusion, and closes the door behind them.

There's somebody else here, standing a few feet away in a similar state of undress. Jimin quickly recognises his colleague, Hoseok. This is good, he knows Hoseok- he’s actually exchanged a few conversations with Hoseok and that’s the most that he can say for most of his coworkers.

Hoseok stares at Jimin, mouth open. Jimin stares back.

“No, sweetheart, that’s not how it works,” Hoseok murmurs to the mortal, before his voice raises in volume and pitch when addressing Jimin. “What- why- where have you been? What are you doing here?”

Before Jimin has a chance to open his mouth, the mortal speaks again. “What if I ask nicely?” His eyes widen even more, which Jimin did not think would have been possible, staring pleadingly at him as if he could convince Hoseok to let him join in.

It has been a long time since he’s had a threesome, and Hoseok is hot because, well, of course he is, and this mortal isn’t too bad himself, and both of their cocks are still hard- he’s getting distracted.

Pointedly ignoring the client’s silent pleas for a threesome, Jimin responds to Hoseok. “I had a client who I couldn’t fulfil the contract with, so now I’m stuck here.”

“Couldn’t fulfil the contract?” Hoseok asks, sounding just as baffled as Jimin had been at first.

Jimin leans against the wall somewhat awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do with himself. It’s not exactly heard of to walk in on each other mid-job. Jimin had never done it before and now that he has, it feels quite rude. If it weren’t for the fact that he needed to catch someone in the middle of the deed in order to get to them before they leave, he would have politely excused himself and waited outside.

“I found out the hard way that not all mortals are into sex. He must have been put on the register by mistake, he doesn’t experience sexual attraction or anything," Jimin explains.

“My friend is asexual,” the mortal chirps, seemingly having decided that if he’s not going to get a threesome then he’s at least going to insert himself into this conversation. He shows Jimin into the living room and they all sit down. He pulls Hoseok onto his lap, and Jimin can't tell if he's always this shameless or if it's just because he could tell that Jimin is an incubus too.

Hoseok’s brows are furrowed in confusion. He looks like he’s never heard the word ‘asexual’ in his life, which is very possible. “But, then… How are you meant to get home?”

“That’s why I’m here. Sorry, by the way." Hoseok exhales through his nose with amusement. The mortal shrugs as if he hadn’t interrupted anything important, even though Jimin can see his still hard cock grazing Hoseok’s hip. “When you go back, could you tell people what happened to me so that they can take me back without fulfilling the contract?”

“Ah.” Hoseok leans back against the mortal’s chest, pursing his lips in thought. “I can try, but the boss isn’t going to like that.”

The mortal looks offended on Jimin’s behalf. “If you can’t do your thing, that isn’t your fault! You should be able to go home!”

Hoseok turns his head to look at him, brushing one of his messy strands of hair out of his face and smiling with amusement. “That would be nice,” he says, kissing softly up his neck. Jimin thinks that if he doesn’t stop doing that then the threesome thing is going to become a reality. “But we’re really into our contracts.”

That's true. Jimin has only heard of very few demons who failed to comply with the rules of the contracts and, well, those who did were never heard of again. He doesn't have to imagine very hard what happened to them.

He can taste blood; he's biting his lip again. This habit is a lot harder to stop than he had thought.

"I'll try," Hoseok says when Jimin doesn't say anything else. "I can't promise anything, but I'll ask around and see what can be done. In the meantime, where have you been staying? How have you been?"

Jimin wouldn’t have expected Hoseok to ask him how he’s been, but he’s trying to just accept things as they are instead of trying to make sense out of them, so he forces himself to not think too hard about it. “The mortal I was sent to- he’s been really lovely and accommodating, so I’ve been staying with him for the time being. I’ve been doing well. It’s been very weird, but I’ve been doing well.”

Hoseok nods in understanding. Jimin suddenly remembers that Hoseok has also once lived among humans for much longer than expected. He will know what Jimin means by things being weird, because he has experienced it himself.

Suddenly, Jimin wants to ask him a barrage of questions. 'Did you start to doubt who you were, too? Did you discover that there’s more to you than you thought there was, too? Did you feel things that you didn’t know were physically possible for someone like you, too?'

Alternatively, Hoseok could be thinking of a different kind of weird. Weird like buses and trains. The kind of weird that doesn't require much thinking.

After all, he was only here for a week because his assigned mortal had self esteem issues and wasn’t ready to put out due to fear of embarrassment. Seokjin just doesn’t want to have sex altogether. Hoseok’s experience probably wouldn’t have made him doubt himself like Jimin’s has because his wasn’t about accepting life without sex, it was just waiting for it.

To be safe, Jimin doesn’t ask any questions that would suggest the kind of revelations and feelings that he has been going through recently. Instead, he just nods with Hoseok. It feels awkward. Maybe they should have a threesome to make things less awkward.

Jimin knows that it's a bad idea to talk about things like this in front of mortals, but this one seems about as harmless as they come. This is probably because one of the first words Jimin heard him say was 'wowzers'. He wasn't aware that ‘wowzers’ was a word that people actually said in real life.

Now that he thinks about it, it seems like a fun word to say. Maybe he should start saying wowzers. For a second, he considers asking the human if he has any other fun words in his vocabulary, but before he opens his mouth he realises that it would not only be going off topic but would also be rather inappropriate.

The mortal actually seems to be the only person who doesn't find this situation awkward, not looking the slightest bit bothered by Jimin's rude interruption of what was probably the best sex of his life. On the contrary, he looks rather pleased, smiling with all of his teeth visible. "I think that your asexual friend should meet my asexual friend."

Jimin isn't sure if Seokjin knows any other asexuals personally, but if he has then he hasn't mentioned it before. It would be nice for him to meet other people that are like him.

He could even meet someone like him who he really likes. Jimin remembers how Seokjin had told him on his second night here that he struggles with romantic relationships because people expect things from him that he can't give. That problem would be solved if he dated another asexual, right?

Despite how much he wants Seokjin to be happy, the thought of that leaves a sour taste in Jimin's throat. "That would be nice," he says anyway.

The mortal taps Hoseok on the shoulder. "I think that you would like him, too. I should take you to meet him."

"Hmh," Hoseok says noncommittally, because once incubi have done what they have come to do then they have no reason to interact with their clients again. He won't be hanging around to meet anyone's friends, he'll be moving on to his next job.

Either oblivious or incredibly determined, the mortal keeps talking about his friend. "He's really cool. Really smart and funny. He's a great guy. I'm really glad to have him in my life. You'd like him a lot."

Hoseok lifts an eyebrow, twisting his body to look sceptically at the mortal. "What, are you in love with him or something?" He asks, voice carefully level.

When a client is pining over someone, it makes things very complicated and annoying. They tend to get upset, thinking that they're cheating on someone that they aren't actually dating. Jimin usually avoids asking people about their personal lives for this reason- the less the victim has a chance to think about someone else, the better.

"Nah," the mortal says cheerily. "I'm just in a particularly good mood because I'm getting laid."

That's valid. Jimin understands.

He feels uncomfortable now, very aware that he's third wheeling and getting in the way of Hoseok doing what he's gotta do. He puts his hands in his pockets (he's very glad to have discovered pockets!) and stands up. "I'll be going. Thank you, Hoseok-ssi. Enjoy yourselves."

"Wait!" The mortal jumps up and runs out of the room.

There's a beat of silence. "Sorry," Jimin mutters.

Hoseok shrugs, grinning. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad to see that you're alright."

"Yeah. I'm alright."

The mortal returns, flapping around a half torn sheet of paper and a pen. He does a kind of lunge, using his own thigh to support the paper as he quickly scribbles something. He hands the paper to Jimin, looking very pleased with himself. "Here you do! It's my friend, for your friend."

Jimin looks at the paper. It's a username of some sort. crabguy94. "Thank you," he says, because he doesn't know what else to say.

He looks at the paper again when he's standing outside of the building. Does he really give this to Seokjin? Isn't it weird that a random person gave him the username of another random person to give to Seokjin? Who even is crabguy94?

He exhales slowly, crumpling up the sheet of paper and putting it in his pocket. He'll think about it later. For now, he's free to go home.

To Seokjin's, he means. Not home home. But also kind of home, in a way.


Seokjin looks so happy to see him. He opens his arms slightly and then stops, as if he's about to initiate a hug but then decides against it. He does that quite a lot, as if he isn't sure how touchy-feely he should be with Jimin.

Since being here, Jimin has decided that he really likes physical contact, even the non-sexual kind, so he encases himself in Seokjin's arms anyway. He leans his face against Seokjin's shoulder, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths of his cologne. Jimin probably smells like shit in comparison, after all the running he's been doing, but Seokjin doesn't seem to mind.

"What's the plan, then?" Seokjin asks, a few seconds into the embrace. Neither of them move away.

Talking requires more effort than Jimin is willing to put into anything right now, but he responds anyway. "Not sure. Somebody is going to get in contact with me to tell me what can be done. It'll probably be over the next few days."

"How are they going to contact you?"

Jimin opens his eyes, suddenly aware of the fact that he has no idea. "I am not sure. They might just show up. If a mysterious person appears at your door, you might want to get me. And then run."

Seokjin laughs, and Jimin can feel the vibration of it in his chest. "I'm sure that as long as they don't try to do something to me, I'll be fine."

Jimin knows what kind of 'do something' that he means. The kind that Jimin was supposed to do when he first showed up. "They won't try to do something to you," Jimin says, before pulling back slightly to look up at Seokjin's face. "But if they did, I wouldn't let them."

Seokjin barks out a laugh. "Thank you, my saviour."

Jimin pouts at him. "They can be really scary when they want to be! Standing up to them would be really brave of me," he says indignantly.

"I know," Seokjin says, even though he doesn't know because Jimin is the only demon that he has ever met. He ruffles the hair on the back of Jimin's head and they finally break apart.

Jimin misses the warmth of Seokjin's body already, but he knows that Seokjin needs his own space. He's an introvert, and Jimin doesn't know much about what an introvert is or what an extrovert is or whatever the hell an ambivert is, but he knows that Seokjin being one means that he needs his alone time. That's probably why he plays video games in his room so much.

They quietly spend the rest of the evening together, neither of them saying much. Jimin sits on the bed and watches Seokjin play MapleStory for at least an hour, having no idea what he's seeing on the screen, no matter how many times Seokjin has tried to explain to him how it works. He understands some of the other video games, but he does not understand MapleStory and he does not understand why Seokjin is spending money on it.

It seems to make him happy, though, and that's all that matters. Jimin is happy if Seokjin is happy.


Jimin can feel the paper in his pocket. He hasn't taken it out of his pocket because he doesn't know where else he could put it- it isn't like doesn't have a room of his own that he could put things in. He can't help but keep reaching in to check that it's still there, as if there's any chance that it would have somehow disappeared. It hasn't.

He still doesn't know whether or not he should give it to Seokjin. He doesn't know how he'd even bring it up if he were going to.

Still not sure if he should give Seokjin this person's username, he decides to start a similar conversation and see how it goes. "Do you know any other asexual people?"

"Not that I know of," Seokjin says offhandedly. "I'm not particularly close with anyone from work, so maybe I do and I don’t know about it yet. It's not exactly the kind of thing to talk about during your coffee break." Jimin has not personally experienced a coffee break due to a lack of human employment, but he understands in theory. "Why do you ask?"

Jimin feels like he's been caught red handed somehow, even though he's sure that not only has he done nothing wrong, but Seokjin doesn't even know about the paper in his pocket. Yet. "Would you like to?"

"It would be nice to know somebody personally who understands, but there are lots of people on the internet who I can talk to who understand, as well." Seokjin seems to think for a moment, and then shrugs. "I wish there was somebody there when I was younger, though."

"What about," Jimin doesn't want to ask, doesn't want to know the answer, but he can't help himself. "For a romantic partner? Wouldn't it be nice if you could date someone who wouldn't expect anything from you?"

Seokjin's eyes look wistful. "It would be nice." Jimin's stomach drops. "But it isn't something that I need." He's definitely caught onto the fact that Jimin's asking about it for a reason, now. "Really, why are you asking? Have you ran into somebody or something?"

He's been caught. "Not exactly." He pauses. Looks like he has no choice now. "You know how I said that I found another incubus and he was in the middle of doing his thing."

Seokjin laughs a little. When Jimin initially told him, he laughed a lot. He said that he thought it was funny to imagine Jimin walking in on some people having sex and asking for help. Jimin supposes that it is kind of funny. It's a good job that neither of them seemed mad.

"The mortal- the client- he was listening to our conversation and he brought up that he has an asexual friend. And then he gave me this." He retrieves the crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket and shyly holds it out. "He told me to give it to you so that you could be friends with his friend."

Seokjin's face goes from confusion to surprise to... Recognition? He blinks at the username in that heavy way that he blinks when he’s thinking. "I know him," he says.


"Yeah," Seokjin gets his phone out, presumably to verify his suspicion. He types something, looks at the screen, and nods to himself. "This is Namjoon from the dog shelter. I used to do volunteer work over there when I went through a rough patch and needed to do something with myself."

Jimin's stomach sinks. This guy works in a dog shelter? He looks after dogs? Jimin could never compete with that. Not that he plans on competing or anything. But if he were to, in theory, go after something with Seokjin maybe, he could not compete with somebody who works in a dog shelter. Who would Seokjin pick, the guy who looks after animals or the demon who fucks people and doesn't do much else?

Instead of saying any of that, Jimin says, "Maybe he should be called dogguy97 instead."

Seokjin laughs at his bad joke, which makes Jimin feel better. "He should. I'm sure that if crab shelters were a thing then he would work in one of those, instead." He looks thoughtfully at his phone. "Maybe I should talk to him. I don't know. We got along well when we worked together, but it would be weird, don't you think? For me to just say that a random person gave me his username and told him that we're both ace?"

It would be a bit weird. This mortal clearly did not think things through. "If he's a nice person, he should be understanding," Jimin offers.

"Yeah. It should be fine. It would be nice to catch up, there are a few babies that I've missed seeing." Jimin assumes that babies means dogs. Even so, he isn't sure that he likes the idea of Seokjin and this Namjoon person having babies together. "Thank you." Jimin realises that Seokjin is addressing him.

"Oh, it's no problem," he mumbles.

Seokjin looks like he's going to say something else, but then he doesn't. Instead, he puts his phone back in his pocket and mutters something about sending a message later.

Jimin wonders if Seokjin knows what he's thinking. He hopes that he doesn't.

He's happy for Seokjin, he really is. He wants him to meet other people who are like him- or are more like him than Jimin is, anyway- and if it turns into something more then so be it. He just can't help but compare himself to this stranger.

He knows nothing about this Namjoon person except that apparently he's a great person and he looks after dogs. He and Seokjin would be a perfect match because Seokjin is a great person and he looks after Jimin.

That thought makes him pause. He probably shouldn't be thinking of himself like Seokjin's pet, even if he kind of feels like it.

He's been trying to feel good about himself and accept himself for who he is, but for some reason this is setting all of his progress back. He had no idea that jealousy was so irrational and sucked this bad. He thinks that he understands why mortals get jealous over the most ridiculous of things now.

If it was anything else, he would talk to Seokjin about it, but he can't. He doesn't have any other friends around here, though. Should he make friends? He doesn't know how to make friends, especially considering the fact that he could leave any day now and never come back.

"Are you okay?" His head tilts up, and he sees Seokjin looking at him, brows furrowed slightly.

Jimin's mouth falls open. He didn't know that his thoughts were showing on his face. He's not very good at hiding emotions when he isn't purposefully putting on an act. "Oh. Yeah. I was just thinking."


"Yeah. About things. Things that are going on." His voice trails away pathetically.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Probably. "No, it's okay."

Seokjin stares at him searchingly for a moment. "Alright, but I'm here if you need me, okay?"

Feeling like he doesn't really deserve Seokjin's care when he's being all jealous for no reason, Jimin nods.


It becomes a normal thing for Seokjin to help Jimin get ready before he goes out. He tells him which clubs are the best ones and which bars are right next to conveniently dark alleyways. He asks what time he'll be home by and makes sure to prepare a meal for him before he gets back.

On one hand, it's incredibly helpful, but on the other hand, Jimin finds that he stops wanting to leave in the first place. Every time he sits down for half an hour while Seokjin applies mysterious substances to his face, he thinks that he would much rather spend the rest of the night like this than mingle with drunken humans and crowds of their gyrating, sweaty bodies.

One night, he forgets that he needs to go.

He has such a fun time with Seokjin picking out outfits and putting on makeup- he's started to do some of it by himself, and even though his eyeliner skills are atrocious, he likes swiping glittery powder on his cheekbones and watching them shimmer- that he finds himself putting off leaving. He offers to help Seokjin out with cooking, and he helps out for so long that he's still there when the meal is finished. Naturally, he tries some. And then he eats it all.

And then he doesn't want to move because he's just eaten a hearty meal and wants to be horizontal for a while. Though he's perfectly capable of consuming and digesting food, the presence of it still feels weird in his body.

He decides that he's going to stay home tonight and go out tomorrow, instead. It's gotten to a point where he can't be bothered going out when he could just go straight to bed.

"I'm sorry for wasting your time, hyung," Jimin says meekly when he tells Seokjin that he's going to stay in for the night. "I really appreciate that you help me out."

Seokjin brushes it off. "It's not a waste of time. I like helping you, and getting ready is the best part about going out. Helping someone pick out clothes and do their makeup without having to go out myself is, like, the ideal situation."

Even so, Jimin refuses to let Seokin wash the dishes as a way to repay him for his time.

He feels quite good about staying in tonight. He should be making the most of the nights he has with Seokjin, anyway. He may be feeling slightly drained already, but he can last another day, it'll be fine.


It's not fine.

Jimin is jerked awake by a wave of nausea. He realises that he's shivering. He's cold, so cold. His body can't heat itself up properly, it needs the warmth of someone else.

He could run outside and find someone as soon as he can, but he doesn't feel capable of doing that. He feels so weak, and his body is shaking too hard to consider getting on his feet.

He realises that he's tightly grasping Seokjin's arm with both hands. The skin under his fingertips feels warm, not quite the warmth that he needs but it's better than nothing. Before he can think of how weird of him it is, he grasps Seokjin's arm tightly and curls his body around it.

He hasn't ever let it get like this before. Considering the fact that it's literally his job to fuck people, he's never been without it for very long. He hasn't even personally met anyone who has gone so long without it, all he knew about withdrawal was that it feels like shit.

And it does feel like shit. He feels he's dying, limbs too weak and mind too foggy to get what he needs anymore, only just enough energy to cling desperately to the best comfort he can find.

That comfort is Seokjin, a living person who is starting to stir awake because of how tightly Jimin's clinging onto him.

Distantly, Jimin thinks about how inappropriate it is for him to attach himself so tightly to Seokjin, even if they've held each other multiple times before. It's not the physical contact that feels inappropriate, it's the desperation, the vulnerability.

Jimin still doesn't like being vulnerable, even in front of Seokjin. It feels like he's breaking some unspoken rule by being seen like this, but he doesn't have any other choice anymore.

"Jimin-ah?" Seokjin mumbles, eyes slowly flickering open. He languidly turns his head in Jimin's direction, squinting at him in the low light. "'Sup?"

Jimin tries to respond with words, but it comes out as a shaky whine. He takes a breath and tries again. "Cold. Really cold."

The desperation in Jimin's voice seems to shake Seokjin awake, because he sits up sharply, blinking his eyes wider. "Jimin? What's going on?" He seems to sniff the air, face scrunched up in disoriented confusion. "You smell different."

That will be his body's defence mechanism. His pheromones are probably so powerful right now in a desperate attempt to attract a victim and replenish his energy. He wonder how it feels to Seokjin.

Jimin's breath rattles in his throat when he breathes in too deep. Instinctively, he throws himself back onto Seokjin's arm, savouring the bare skin. He pushes his face into Seokjin's arm, inhaling deeply. He isn't sure how or why, but it helps.

He realises that he needs to respond. He doesn't know how long it's been since Seokjin spoke, it could have been anywhere between a few seconds and a minute. "Cold," he whispers again. "I think it's because-" he's interrupted by a sharp shiver running through him, "because I didn't go out tonight."

Seokjin looks like he has no idea what to do, and Jimin can't blame him because he doesn't know what he would do in his place, either. He's staring at his arm that has been taken into Jimin's hold. "Can I help?" He asks tonelessly, though the discomfort is evident on his face.

Jimin’s mind is moving slower than usual, and it takes him a moment to piece together what Seokjin had suggested. When he does, he’s so shocked that he moves back. "No! No, you don't have to do anything, I'm sorry." He considers offering to sleep on the sofa for the night, but if he did then he would have to ask Seokjin to carry him over. He doesn't want to ask anything of Seokjin right now.

He wants so badly to reach out and touch him. Not even in the way that he would normally reach out and touch people, either. As much as he desperately needs that right now, he could never even consider touching Seokjin in that way, not after knowing his boundaries. He just wants to be held, to feel bare skin against his own and be warmed by the heat of Seokjin's body.

"Jimin-ah," Seokjin says wearily, "you look like you're in pain. I can't leave you like that."

Jimin feels a tear slide down his cheek, and his hand shakes as he wipes it away. "I don't want you to do... That... You won't like it."

"I can't just leave you like this," Seokjin repeats. Despite seemingly having decided that he has no other choice but to help Jimin sexually, he hasn't made any move towards him. There's a foot between them, but it feels like miles.

Jimin shakes his head jerkily. "Can you just... Hold me? Nothing else, just," he reaches feebly for Seokjin's arm again. "Need to feel you."

Seokjin hums under his breath, extending his arms as Jimin scrambles into his embrace. Immediately, it feels better. He's still cold and weak and his brain isn't working quite right, but the physical contact helps. It feels less unbearable.

With shamelessness that he would never have on a normal day, Jimin mewls quietly against Seokjin’s bicep. The physical contact all over is good, but it's the bare skin that's really helping him feel grounded.

Seokjin seems to pick up on this, because he stiffens for a moment before taking his shirt off and gently pushing Jimin into his now bare chest.

It's so much warmer now. There's a chill remaining deep in his bones, but he isn't shivering like he was before. His thoughts are becoming clearer by the second.

"You can take yours off, too, if you want," Seokjin says quietly.

"Are you sure?" Jimin breathes.


Jimin takes his shirt off in one quick movement and lays back against Seokjin's chest and, fuck, that's so much better. The skin on skin is exactly what he needs. He feels like a cold blooded reptile lounging on a warm rock in the sun, if the warm rock were another lizard and they were both feeling shy.

Seokjin's heart is beating so fast. He's scared, just a little bit. Jimin doesn't like that. He knows that he scared Seokjin there, knows that for a moment Seokjin thought that he didn't have a choice.

He always has a choice. Always should be able to say no and should always be able to say yes if he ever happened to change his mind- not that he ever has to.

"I'd never make you do anything like that," Jimin murmurs, lips brushing against Seokjin's collarbone.

"I know," Seokjin says. His voice is flat.

Jimin shuffles around so that he can lift his head up and look straight into Seokjin's eyes. "I'm serious."

"I know," Seokjin says again.

They lay together in silence for a while. It's comfortable, considering what an unfamiliar situation it is. The fear in Seokjin's scent gradually fades away until it's not there at all. He relaxes under Jimin's weight, tightening his arms around his waist. Jimin thinks that he could finally get back to sleep but also, selfishly, wants to stay awake just so that he can experience being held like this.

Seokjin speaks before he can decide whether or not to try to sleep. "Can I tell you something?"


Seokjin pauses for a moment, body stiffening again. "Something happened to me when I was younger. Sexually." He spits out the last word like it tastes bad in his mouth.

Jimin doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what he could possibly say. He had wondered, a few times, if something traumatic had happened to Seokjin before, but he hadn't thought about it too much. The thought of it made him feel sick and, besides, he has no right to speculate about things like that.

He strokes Seokjin's torso gently with his thumb, hoping that it conveys that he's listening and willing to hear any more that he'd like to share.

Seokjin seems to get it. He swallows, voice sounding very weak all of a sudden. "I was a teenager. Fifteen or something. I had my first real girlfriend, and she wanted to, you know, progress things. I didn't really want to. I didn't have any interest in sex, and I told her that, but she said that all boys wanted to have sex and I just didn't know what I was missing."

There's a moment of silence. "Ah," Jimin says softly, barely audible. He feels cold again, but not the kind of cold that he felt before. He knows what's coming, and as much as he can't stand to hear it, he knows that he'll still listen.

"So we did it," Seokjin says. "Or, really she did it. I didn't do anything, I just sat there and let her do what she wanted to do. It was weird because it felt good, like, physically, but mentally it hurt a lot. I felt like I wasn't present in my body, like it was somehow happening to someone else." Another short pause. "I broke up with her a month later and then she told everyone that I was bad in bed."

"That's awful. She's fucking awful." Jimin wants to cry, but that's not right. If anyone should be crying, it's Seokjin, but he seems relatively put together. The only thing giving away the fact that telling the story is difficult for him is the weakness in his voice, but that's it.

"Yeah, she was," Seokjin agreed, adjusting his position slightly. "Once I realised that what happened wasn't right, I got help for it, so I'm okay now. Or, as okay as I can be. Stuff like that doesn't ever really leave you, you know?"

Jimin nods.

"I just wonder, sometimes." Seokjin leaves it at that for a moment, absentmindedly running his fingers over the curve of Jimin's back. "I'm comfortable identifying as asexual now, and if I had known of the label I probably would have used it back then, but I was just a kid. Things could have changed. I don't know if I'm naturally like this or if it's because of trauma. I know that it doesn't matter because I am how I am and the way I came to be like this doesn't matter but, fuck, I hate not knowing for sure."

Jimin really wishes that he could provide some advice, but he knows nothing. He knows nothing about asexuality other than what Seokjin has told him, and he couldn't possibly fully grasp how trauma affects humans because it's so complicated. Humans in general are so complex, so different from each other and yet all the same at the same time. Jimin knows how to tell what they want in a matter of seconds, but he couldn't begin to figure out how their minds work.

He doesn't have any advice or anecdotes or anything else, so he just presses his face between Seokjin's collarbones and mumbles, "Thank you for telling me."

Ironically, this is the part that Seokjin seems the most uncomfortable. "Yeah. It's fine. You're welcome. I think."

"Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?" Jimin asks.

"I don't think so."

"Do you want me to act like you never told me anything?"

Seokjin hums quietly. "Nah. It's been a long time and I've made peace with it years ago. It's just..."

It's still a thing that's on his mind sometimes. Jimin can understand that. "Do you want to go back to sleep?" He asks.


It's silent after that, the only sounds being Seokjin's breaths and his heart thrumming rhythmically in his chest. Jimin hears as Seokjin's breathing slows down as he falls back asleep. He falls asleep surprisingly fast, considering the weight on his chest. Jimin thought that he would have had to move away at some point.

He's glad that he doesn't have to move away. He likes this, curled up on top of Seokjin, he likes it a lot.

It seems like so many little things have happened that brought him to this moment, and even though most of them were mistakes, he's glad to have made mistakes. He closes his eyes, still a little cold but warm enough to be comfortable, and lets himself drift back to sleep.