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Jisung likes Halloween.
He likes dressing up, he likes the decorations, he likes carving pumpkins out.
Jisung loves going trick or treating, especially since he’s gotten assigned to be his little brother’s trick or treat partner in crime.
Growing up in this town, having spent 24 years of his life here, Jisung knows all the good addresses, which lovely grandmothers give out more candy than they should.
His brother, Haebin, has begged him to go later on in the evening for once, used the fact that he recently turned 12 and that the world isn’t so scary anymore.
It definitely is. Even Jisung is afraid of going out alone late in the evening, the alleys are too dark since the lights go out at 11. Curse him for never leaving his small, recluded town.
“Hyung!” Haebin just about shouts next to him, voice cracking and small hands grabbing Jisung’s arm.
Jisung screams, then jumps ten feet off the floor, clutching his heart over his shirt. “Holy fucking shit Binie!”
Haebin is laughing next to him, handing Jisung a jar that’s already half full. “Ha! Got you, five thousand in the curse jar. C’mon. Pay up.”
With a huff, Jisung reluctantly grabs his wallet out of his back pocket and picks a five thousand won bill out of it, folding it four times before slipping it past the slit on top of the jar. “Not funny.”
“Very funny. What are you dressing up as tonight?” Haebin asks, sitting on the chair right next to Jisung and stealing one of his pop tarts.
“Ya, get your own! You’re not a baby anymore, you can use a toaster!” Jisung rolls his eyes at him, getting up to take the last two biscuits out of the box, throwing the cardboard away. “Well unlucky you, these two are the last ones.”
Bickering with his little brother make’s Jisung’s days go by faster, if he’s honest.
Jisung puts the pop tarts in the toaster, finger pushing the handle down as he watches them disappear in it. Waiting until he sees the burning red light peeking from the toaster before moving his eyes back to Haebin.
“I’m going as a warlock. Recycling last year’s costume because I am too broke to get a new one.” His last paycheck was spent on buying a new computer and rent, along with the few bills he has and groceries he totally didn’t splurge on.
“Boring,” Haebin says, taking a sip out of Jisung’s tall glass of juice. “I’m going as a zombie. Can you do my makeup?”
When the toaster rings and his pop tarts almost fly out of it, Jisung burns the tip of his fingers as he grabs them before giving one to Haebin and snatching his glass back.
“Ya, for real, can you not open the fridge door?” Jisung drinks his glass down, to make sure his brother won’t take some of it again. “Am I your personal makeup artist or something?”
“I don’t know, have you started beauty school?” Haebin gets up to get his own glass, taking the bottle of pineapple juice out of the fridge and sitting back down at the table. “Hyung c’mon! You’re good with makeup, mom hates doing it.”
Realistically speaking, Jisung was going to agree anyway. He does Haebin’s makeup every single year, watches a bunch of tutorials on different looks because he knows his brother likes to switch it up every single year. Jisung always makes sure to take a few days off for Halloween, just so he can spend them with Haebin.
“I’ll do it. Let’s meet here at five so we can get started. Mom said we can go out until 9 — don’t argue with me! I’m just following what she said!” Jisung laughs when Haebin rolls his eyes before he looks down at his phone, bold font letting him know it’s almost 4.
He runs to the bathroom, turning the shower on to warm up the water before jumping in it. He only scrubs his body, knowing he’ll be applying fake gold and silver paint to his hair so washing his hair now is pointless.
His childhood bedroom had been replaced with an office, so as Jisung steps into it, he’s greeted with the blinding sunlight since his mom had removed his black out curtains.
Picking his costume from the closet here makes him laugh, looking at the torn hat he is definitely not wearing and the long, black coat that almost touches the floor when Jisung wears it. Jisung had bought that three years ago, when Haebin had asked to wear matching costumes.
Jisung picks a random black t-shirt and black slacks to go underneath it, not really caring since the coat will hide all of it when he snaps all the buttons close. Getting himself dressed gets done in under a minute before Jisung grabs the makeup bag he took with him from his suitcase.
Every year, he makes sure to stock up on face paint and fake blood. Sometimes he also splurges on latex or scar wax, depending on if he can find it in the Halloween themed retail store that’s all the way in the city.
As he waits, Jisung watches a bunch of makeup tutorials before finally making his way down the stairs of his mom’s house, finding Haebin already waiting for him there, legs bouncing and fiddling with his fingers.
“Alright zombie boy! Come here.”
They sit on the couch, far easier for Jisung to reach out in order to paint his brother’s face with a shade of sage green before he grabs a purple eye shadow in order to deepen his cheekbones. Fake moss, dark red fake blood later and Haebin looks like a cute version of the zombies Jisung definitely gets scared of in the movies he watches.
He doesn’t do anything on himself, not really knowing what type of makeup would suit a warlock. One with a very bad and outdated wardrobe at that, so Jisung just keeps his skin bare.
“We’ll do the usual route and then we can go to the park so you can spend some time with your friends, how does that sound?” He asks, sliding his right foot into his sneaker. Black as well, to tie it off.
Haebin looks like he wants to ask something, a frown drawn deep between his eyebrows. Jisung knows like the back of his hand. “What’s up?”
Balancing off his feet, Haebin only looks at the floor before bringing his eyes back up to his brother. “Can we go to the manor down Hill Road? I’ve heard someone moved in recently. Maybe they’re nice?”
Hill Road.
A street Jisung had been to probably twice in his whole twenty four years of life. He’s never stepped a foot past the gates of the manor at the end of it, always letting his fear get in the way of following his friends through the gap in the fence.
“Bin I’m not sure.” He says, putting his second sneaker on and tying his laces. Hill Road gives him goosebumps when he thinks about it.
A dark manor at the end of an equally dark street that no one has inhabited in decades? And suddenly someone that Jisung has never heard of and never seen bought it?
Sketchy.
He’s heard about it. How the fence is all new, the grass is freshly mowed everyday and the lights flicker through the very much cleaned windows.
But Jisung has never seen a single soul inside this manor, not a single human has ever walked through the gates — well clearly, someone did, Jisung just hasn’t seen them — and it scares Jisung shitless to go over there. Ever.
“Please hyung! The owner seems so nice! Everyone’s talking about him in town! You just never leave your studio!”
Denying a very true statement would be a foul move, because Haebin is right. Jisung likes the cozyness of his studio much more than he does the pavement of the town. So no, Jisung hasn’t heard of this new mystery person.
“Have you ever seen him? Like in the flesh you know — not just pictures Haebin-ah!”
His brother sighs, looking actually upset over this. Jisung wonders what it is about this freaking house that appeals to the young generation nowadays.
“No but Jieun did!”
In the end, Jisung doesn’t say yes.
He doesn’t say no, either. Just grabs Haebin’s hand and drags him outside to meet the world and it’s already sunset streets. Jisung doesn’t have a basket, but Haebin hasn’t forgotten his very badly shaped skull one like he did last year.
Halloween is one of the only times of the year when Jisung’s old, dry and dead small town feels somewhat alive. At this hour, kids are running from street to street as their parents yell at them to stop from five feet behind. Decorations are out, many of the people who live here have decided to keep on decorating their houses each year, letting the younger ones drool over the fake skeletons and plastic —sometimes real— pumpkins sitting on the porch.
Jisung takes his phone to snap some pictures and upload them on his social media, locking his device when he’s done and then focusing on the house Haebin is darting towards. As he waits, Jisung makes small talk with the parents waiting for their children on the streets. Everyone knows everyone in this town, Jisung thinks he could go through all four main streets and name every single family that lives there.
He doesn’t yell after him, Haebin is well aware and old enough to know he will get in trouble if he gets out of Jisung’s sight, especially as the sun sets over the town. If it was a regular day and in the middle of the afternoon, their mom would be okay with him hanging out with his friends alone, but since he wants to stay out later, Jisung is on watcher duty.
He doesn’t really mind. Haebin’s friends are nice — kind of annoying, but annoying the way teenagers usually are. They like talking loud and running off, nothing Jisung can’t really handle.
It's 8:20 in the evening when his brother seems to be done knocking on doors and yelling out TRICK OR TREAT in unison with his friends.
Haebin comes back to him with a look Jisung knows all too well, lips already in a pout and fake tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “Hyung—”
“Oh my god, okay! We can go. But if you get too spooked, that's on you.” He rolls his eyes, turning on his heels to walk towards the manor.
Jisung’s hands are shaking, his legs feel weaker than they should the more they step towards that damned street. The manor shouldn’t be this scary. It’s just an abandoned, big house that Jisung’s very friends have broken into countless times.
As they start walking down Hill Road, Jisung clutches the laps of his coat tighter, letting the wind splash across his face and scaring him even more than he should be. Maybe he has watched too many horror movies revolving around big, abandoned haunted manors that dived into cold blooded murders or chases darting up large and never ending staircases.
The last time Jisung walked down this street, he was probably Haebin’s age and was getting dragged by his friends so they could spend Halloween in true fashion. Jisung ran the moment it was his turn to go through the hole in the fence.
“Why are you so scared of it, hyung?” Haebin asks, snicker in his voice and smile on his lips as he lifts his head up to look at Jisung. “It doesn’t even look scary!”
Jisung sighs, eyes rolling to the back of his skull because of course even his little brother isn’t scared of it. No one really is, in this town. Most people just don’t care about it, abandoned and not even lit up by the street lights in the evening.
As they approach the gates, Jisung realizes that now, the lamp posts are all on, even the ones right by the manor. Jisung squints, and a chill runs down his spine when he notices the tall, black iron gates are wide open and that the path leading up to the manor is lit up on both sides with what looks like real candles.
Great. Now Jisung is just walking towards his actual death, candle lit path and all.
The wind is picking up, the tall branches of the pine trees are flapping through the air and Jisung wants nothing more than to run back to his mother’s house and hide under his covers. Maybe he’s exaggerating. Jisung, twenty-four, scared of candles and some wind.
When Haebin speaks again, Jisung jumps and his heart rate picks up, cursing himself for immersing himself into this way too much. “It looks pretty.”
Jisung sighs, rubbing at the space between his eyebrows and then actually looks at the manor. They’re probably ten feet away from the gates now, and Jisung has a pretty good view of the facade. Some windows shine with light coming from certain rooms, there’s vegetation coming from the roof and framing some of them as well.
But it looks kept together, as if the owner had left some of the ivy there on purpose. The manor looks… beautiful. But Jisung still has a hard time walking toward the path, scared something is going to jump at him or trip him until he falls to his knees.
He’s so scared. Even if the front of the manor isn’t that bad looking, Jisung still wonders who in the world saw it and thought yeah, I’ll buy it!
It must have been expensive as well, since it was a family heirloom that the inheritors had just bluntly abandoned and put on sale decades ago, probably to give themselves a better conscience. It was put up for millions, Jisung doesn’t even remember how much it had gone for.
“Hyung! C’mon!” Haebin yells, a few feet ahead of him as he swings his basket around, already full of candy from all the different houses they already went to.
Jisung doesn’t understand. He’s heard of this new owner probably three weeks ago, his mom had told him about it on the phone right when the news broke that someone finally bought that gigantic piece of work. Now, Jisung isn’t the most informed or skilled on house renovations, but he’s sure it takes more than three weeks to go from totally-abandoned-manor-that-hasn’t-been-touched-in-decades to looking-straight-out-of-magazine-mansion. Even the facades have been cleaned. All of them, red bricks shining through the ivy.
But three weeks to do that? Is the new owner some kind of multi-millionaire architect that just took on this project for fun and giggles? Jisung has a hard time wrapping his head around it. His mom didn’t even mention there being renovators, and as noisy as the woman tends to be, she surely would have noticed them.
Even weirder. Does the mysterious manor owner only work at night?
Maybe he doesn’t want to disturb the peace of the town during the day.
Jisung wonders if it’s a professional serial killer standing right behind that door. Maybe he’s waiting for people to come by so he can lure them in, chase them around the manor and then, after wearing them down and making them breathless so he can stab them from beh–
Okay.
Maybe he did watch too many horror movies that took place in manors like these.
It looks somehow normal now, grass mowed, bushes trimmed in geometrical shapes that Jisung thought only existed in cinema. There are some stones carved in various shapes as well on each side of the path, some light here and there as well as the candles to make sure it’s lit up enough. The path is made up of paving stones, looking brand new as well.
The trees lining up the path are pine as well, in two rows on each side, perfectly spaced and fully fluffed out. Jisung feels like he isn’t in the real world. Everything looks perfect. Nothing feels out of place, even the branches are all symmetrical.
“This is weird, Haebin-ah.” He says, looking for a way out. The door is in his line of sight now, twice his size. It looks heavy, made out of dark oak wood if Jisung’s minecraft memory is true to the real world. “I mean look at this! It’s too perfect. Best way to lure people in.”
His brother laughs, his tiny legs dragging him closer to the door. “Hyung, it’s okay. I promise.”
The door is huge, but its size is nothing compared to the manor. They’re double doors, Jisung can tell as he approaches them slowly. There’s an itch in his steps , Jisung doesn’t want to knock, but he realizes that only him will be able to do so. Because the door knocker is way too high for Haebin to reach.
Great. His day could not get comically worse. Jisung, scared for his life about being near this manor, has no choice but to knock himself and be the first in line to get bloodily murdered.
He knows, realistically, that they aren’t here for any of this. Or else Jisung would have never agreed to take Haebin here. Jisung just hates big houses and manors like these. He’s also very much creeped out by how quickly this has gotten renovated, but he knows there must be a very logical reason behind it.
One deep breath, Jisung grabs the knocker.
Another, and Jisung smacks it three times against the metal circle attached to the oak, a loud noise resonating between his ears. Three times.
When the distinct sound of the lock turning resonates, Jisung takes a step back behind Haebin, letting his brother be the center of attention.
(He’s totally not terrified.)
Only one of the doors opens, and Jisung thinks his ears ring from how loud Haebin is screaming. “TRICK OR TREAT!”
Jisung’s eyes lock on his brother’s frame, watching as his eyes widen and sparkle under the light coming from the lantern right over their head.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” He hears, voice sultry with a tinge of amusement hidden behind it. “A zombie, I presume?”
Haebin squeals, jumping up and down right in front of Jisung – who is still too terrified to even look at the man. “Yes!”
The man hums, Jisung watches as his feet move an inch closer to him, clad in black boots that have an inch or two heel. “And what are.. you?”
Jisung knows his costume is terrible. The coat doesn’t even look like it’s a warlock’s, he’s wearing sneakers out of everything he could have chosen. He probably looks like he’s engulfed into a coat three sizes too big.
As he flicks his eyes up towards the man’s face, Jisung feels his blood run cold. He isn’t — scary. He doesn’t look old, either.
His beauty renders Jisung speechless, as if he was under some kind of spell that forbids him from looking anywhere else if he dared to. Perfect, unblemished skin. A nose bridge Jisung dreams to touch with the tip of his fingers, black hair styled down, but perfectly in accord with the man’s bone structure. And then—
Yellow eyes, with a sliver of black running through the middle of them. Cat eyes, perfectly blending with the man’s features.
He must have gotten these contacts custom made.
Fingers snap in front of his face, and Jisung remembers to pick up his jaw from the floor. “S-sorry. I’m a — a warlock.”
He’s gotten a few reactions to his costume tonight, but Jisung never had anyone downright laugh in his face. Until now.
The stranger holds onto the side of the door as he chuckles, looking at Jisung from head to toe as if to try and take all of him in. And then, he laughs again. “Oh wow.”
Jisung is on the brink of getting offended. He knows his costume isn’t great but the stranger doesn’t have to be mean about it.
He was about to speak, when the man decided to run his mouth again. “You look very cute. Perhaps we did use to dress like this. In the 15th century, if I recall correctly.”
Blushing, Jisung decides to look at his feet again. Finding the laces of his shoes much more interesting than whoever is standing in front of me. “Yeah, right.”
“What are your favorite candies, little one?” The man says, a smile evident in his voice as he speaks to Haebin. It has Jisung looking back up, taking in every single detail he is offered.
The man is wearing a deep, blue shirt with the top three buttons undone, giving Jisung a much appreciated view of his chest. His neck is free of jewelry, but his red ears are adorned with pieces of silver, hoops wrapping nicely over his helix on his right one, and a spiky, silver earring in the same spot, but on his other ear.
Jisung’s eyes follow the curve of the man’s arm, down to his hands and he feels a little hot underneath his coat when he’s met with chunky, silver rings. Two, to be exact. They look ancient, as if their value were greater than Jisung’s entire life. At the end of the man’s fingers, Jisung sees black painted nails. They’re shining under the light of the stranger’s house behind him.
Hot.
“Green grape candy!” Haebin says, and Jisung thinks he’s never heard him this excited before. As if he was still that five year old boy going on his first Halloween trick or treating Jisung remembers so well. “Please.”
Jisung watches, as the man snaps his fingers once and bends behind the other door, grabbing something before he reappears with a basket in hand. Full of green grape candy. “Well, it seems you are just in luck tonight, young man.”
“Oh my god!” Haebin yells, looking back at Jisung with hope filling his eyes. “Hyung, look!”
Chuckling, Jisung pats Haebin’s hair and cringes internally when he’s met with dry, hair paint. “Ask the nice person how much you can take, Haebin-ah.”
“Oh, it’s all for him.” The man says, extending his arm until his basket reaches Haebin’s skull one, and waits for him to dig in. “I’m closing the gates after you.”
Haebin looks at him again, a question written all over his face. “Hyung, can I?” He asks, jutting his bottom lip out for added effect. Jisung loves him.
He laughs, nodding as he squeeze Haebin’s shoulder. “Go ahead, buddy. Only if you promise to give me some, though.”
His little brother all but snatches the bags of candies inside of the basket, putting them in his own before looking at Jisung with big eyes again. “Hyung, my basket’s too small.”
“It’s okay, Haebin-ah. Take mine, you can bring it back tomorrow.” The man says, gesturing for Haebin to take the basket. It’s bigger than the boy’s one, so he just puts his smaller basket inside the bigger one and proceeds to thank the stranger, bowing repeatedly.
“And what about you, hm?” The man asks, pointing a finger at Jisung as he tilts his head to the side.
Jisung splutters, heart beating way too fast inside his chest. Maybe this is his end. The candies are poisoned. Maybe the basket is? Jisung is terrified. He doesn’t know. “W-what?”
“His favorites are pop tarts. Chocolate ones, he’s boring. He doesn’t like candy, he likes cakes and biscuits more.” Haebin says, rolling his eyes before sighing as if he was exasperated by his own brother.
“Hey! I’m not boring, I just have a preference for pop tarts.”
The sound of fingers snapping again tears the two brothers out of their pointless bickering, both of them flitting their gazes back to the man. He’s bending behind one of the doors again, thighs straining against the material of his pants. They’re big, bigger than Jisung’s head for sure.
“Here you go, deer looking boy.” He says, smirk dancing on his lips as he takes another look at Jisung’s costume, handing him another basket, full of fucking pop tarts.
Chocolate ones. All of them. “Okay, what the fuck. Who are you?”
Haebin laughs next to him, extending his hand towards Jisung’s chest. “Pay up, hyung.”
Jisung rolls his eyes, grabbing his wallet out of his pocket and a five thousand bill out of it, slapping it down on Haebin’s hand. “Can’t wait for you to be old enough to curse. But seriously, who are you?”
The contacts don’t shift when the man’s eyes follow Jisung’s pointed finger, the two slits mocking a cat’s pupils moving with each of their movements. As if it was his real eyes. Jisung should really ask him for the store’s name, maybe he’ll up his costume gear next year.
“You may call me Lee Minho. Nice to meet you, deer eyed boy.”
Lee Minho.
Jisung had never heard of him before, so there is a chance he might not even be from this town. There’s an aura to him, one Jisung can’t pinpoint exactly. He’s too – elegant. All of his movements have this spark to them, makes Jisung want to follow everything that he does, drink up everything that he says. The cat contacts aren’t helping, Jisung wants to stare at him, and feels himself getting pulled in just from a quick look at them.
“I do not look like a deer.” He says, not knowing if he should be offended by the fact that he got compared to an animal twice, one that is usually preyed on, one that predators chase around woods until they pounce.
“Not you. But your eyes, yes. Very much so. It’s like you’re terrified.” Minho says, staring at Jisung so profoundly he can swear he saw the slits of his contacts twitch. It must be because of the light coming from the chandelier Jisung can see a glimpse of behind Minho.
Snatching the basket, Jisung feels the tip of his ears burn as he looks back at Minho, trying to ignore the intensity of his stare. “T-thank you. For all of this, I’ll bring the baskets back to you tomorrow.”
“No worries, you don’t have to rush. I’ll be waiting patiently.” His eyes twitch again, and Jisung is almost sure he saw the slits get bigger for a millisecond. Maybe Jisung just needs to sleep it off.
As he turns around to walk back home, Jisung hears fingers snapping again and suddenly, all the lights of the path guiding them towards the gates get brighter, the flames of the candles reaching higher in the air. Jisung turns around to find Minho leaning against his oak, heavy door with one arm crossed over his chest and the other in the air, waving his fingers at them, eyes dark.
Weird.
Jisung hurries them back home, taking a shortcut through someone’s backyard and hoping no one is home so he doesn’t get them caught. “Did you have fun, Bin?”
He can see Haebin nodding happily next to him, a small skip in his steps as he swings his very full basket around. “It was so fun, hyung! Thank you! I can’t wait to eat all of this.”
“You know mom is going to take away most of it, right? No way she’ll let you keep it all.”
When they get home, Jisung sends Haebin to take a shower right away. Told him to wash his hair twice to make sure he got all the paint out of it. Their mom had made dinner while she waited for them, so the three of them eat around their dining table as the two brothers tell her how their nights went. Haebin mostly talks about the manor, and Jisung can’t seem to forget about those eyes– contact lenses.
Not eyes. Just very realistically looking cat eye contact lenses.
As he lays in bed, Jisung is restless. Every single time he closes his eyes, he can only think about Minho. About his eyes, about his rings and the black polish carefully painted over each of his nails. He thinks about those eyes– he can’t stop picturing them behind his own closed one. Gold with a sliver of black right in the middle of them.
Jisung knows they’re contacts, because Jisung also knows that at night, a cat’s pupils expand to let more light into them, so it can see better. And also because Minho is a human.
He turns, and turns until he’s annoyed at himself and runs down the stairs to get himself a glass of water. Jisung eyes the clock, finding that it’s close to midnight and that he should definitely be asleep by now. And then, Jisung eyes the door, looks at the inviting handle. Maybe he can go out and see for himself.
Maybe, if he’s lucky enough, Jisung will catch the renovation workers and it will all finally make sense. Maybe Minho hasn’t had the hole in the fence repaired. If Jisung’s memory doesn’t fail him, he recalls it being far at the back of the garden, on the left near some pine trees.
If Jisung tears the fence a little bit more than it already is, maybe he will actually be able to fit through the gape and snoop around someone’s property–
Right.
Trespassing is definitely a crime. And Jisung really isn’t the type to actually play with the law.
But those eyes. It’s like they’re pulling him in even from this far away, calling his name and luring him in. Maybe that was the plan. Maybe Minho cast a spell on him and is waiting for him to come back so he can finally have his chase around the manor before stabbing him in the back.
Jisung tries to tell himself that it’s all a trap, that the gates are still open and waiting for him to walk through them before they magically close behind him so Minho can have his fun.
And then, he thinks about the soft smile Minho had on his face anytime Haebin was talking, handing him his favorite candy to make him happy. It was mostly all a coincidence, Minho maybe had a bunch of candy baskets hidden behind the other door and gave them away to kids as they knocked on his door.
But usually, no one buys freaking pop tarts to give out during Halloween.
“Fuck it,” he says under his breath, putting his shoes on and pulling a hoodie over his head before grabbing his set of keys. His mom doesn’t really care that he goes out late at night, she just wants Jisung to let her know he’ll be out and the reason why she hears the door opening and closing this late.
So he shoots her a text to tell her he’s going on a walk and closes the door behind him.
Jisung doesn’t know what he’s doing.
Surely, he won’t let himself illegally enter someone’s property for the sole purpose of making sure all of this makes sense. Surely, Jisung isn’t cutting through that same backyard.
It’s so dark out, all of the lights are off, air pollution isn’t really a thing in such a small town so Jisung can’t see anything. He has his phone flash light on, but it only offers him a splash of light right in front of his own two feet.
He’s shaking. His heart slams against his ribcage, rhythm spiking the more he walks. Scared to the point of feeling the lumps in his throat, threatening to spill past his lips as he walks towards Hill Road. It’s even darker as he finally reaches the paving stones leading up to the gates, no light coming from any of the houses he’s walking past by.
Apart from one. Right in front of him, on the second floor of the manor. The light seems – blue. A bright hue to it, almost as it’s flowing through the room instead of coming off strong from a lightbulb. Maybe Minho has mood lights up in his room.
And then, right as Jisung takes another step, the light turns a pale yellow. Normal. Just like the one in Jisung’s room.
Minho probably switched the main light on.
Until it glows blue again – but brighter this time.
Weird.
Jisung keeps walking, making sure the hood of his hoodie is tight over his head. When he reaches the left side of the fence, Jisung turns his flashlight to the lowest level and ducks his head to not walk right into the low branches of the oak tree next to him. The fence looks as old as Jisung remembers it to be, its color worn down and dull to the eyes.
When he reaches the middle of the garden, Jisung makes sure to slow his steps, looking attentively to make sure he doesn’t miss the hole in the iron. There’s a constant chill running down his dack, Jisung can’t believe he’s doing this. Breaking the law. Trespassing.
If his mom knew, she definitely would sit him down and give him a lecture.
There’s sweat running down his temple, Jisung is about to run back home and forget he even thought about doing this.
And then the light switches to green for not even a second, right before it turns bright blue again. Is Minho testing out his new lights at midnight, out of all hours he could have chosen?
Jisung sees the hole in the fence and mentally cheers, fist bumping the air when he also realizes that it’s bigger than he remembers, and he can definitely fit right through it without having to fight against it. So Jisung crouches down and takes a deep breath and pats his own shoulder. Jisung puts his phone between his lips so he can still see where he’s going, making sure they’re dry so it doesn’t slip.
His knees meet the dirt underneath him, and Jisung brings one shoulder through the gap, letting his other follow through right away. One knee, then the other. One foot, and then his last limb.
Finally, Jisung gets up from his crouching position and dusts off his jeans before making sure his hoodie is still very much on.
When Jisung looks up, the light is still blue, flickering through the room. It looks as if it is floating around and bouncing off the walls, but Jisung is sure it’s because he’s too far away. The distance from the fence to the manor is the same as the one from the gates to the front door. Jisung is pretty sure all of this is a symmetrical, perfect square. He calculated it once, by walking around the fence, but he forgot about it all.
One step after the other, Jisung gets closer to the left facade of the manor. He can’t see much, hopes he isn’t running grass designs because Minho does look fancy enough to hire someone to draw shapes into his freshly cut grass.
Another step, a rush of something goes through Jisung’s cold body. As if he just stepped through a wall of wind, but Jisung is surrounded by nothing but tall, green pine trees. He makes his way out of them, stepping on another path that looks like it leads to a door on the left side of the manor.
As he approaches it, Jisung steps through another gust of wind, stronger this time. Harsher on the wrinkles of his face. It even pushes his hood off his head, making it flop down on his back.
He gets more scared by the second, the atmosphere around him too – odd. It’s so dark, so cold. Jisung looks up ahead and the blue light isn’t there anymore. The entire manor is dark, nothing coming from any of the windows.
There’s sweat coating his body, fear brewing inside of him – God, why did he put himself through this.
Jisung thinks his curiosity is going to get the best of him one day.
But he keeps going, takes another step, then another. He walks towards the manor, watches as it gets closer, and closer until–
Until he takes another step, but Jisung can’t move forward. He’s stuck.
He looks down at his feet, but nothing is in his way. He looks in front of him– the wall is still so far away. Jisung tries taking another step, but he can’t move forward. Something stops him from moving his feet and Jisung panics, rushing to look around himself, but darkness envelops him and all of his senses.
When he fails to get his foot off the floor, Jisung thinks he can already feel the tears lining at his lash line.
Stupid. He’s so stupid. Coming back here in the middle of the night when he knows someone lives here, trespassing and not using the two chances he had when he felt the wind to turn back and run home.
Now he’s stuck. He doesn’t even know how, so he can’t really get himself out of his predicament. There’s nothing holding him down. He’s standing on rocks, gray stones that Jisung had stepped on a few hours ago on the main path. There’s no wall in front of him, Jisung can see just as much no matter how dark it is.
Jisung is seriously about to die. Right here. Right now.
He tries to keep his breathing at bay in case anyone is nearby, Jisung would hate for this to be on his criminal record. Stupid trespassing because he’s too curious about the hot man living in the scary manor.
And he hears it. Oddly familiar, something he’s heard twice already today. Fingers snapping.
His feet feel lighter, and when he moves his right one again, Jisung is able to lift it up in the air, and step forward again.
“Well, well, well.” Same words, same voice, same tone. But Jisung jumps when he hears it, almost falls backwards until he’s met with a hard surface. Also oddly warm. “What do we have here, hm?”
Jisung screams.
High pitched, ripping his vocal chords and echoing through the silence of his beloved town.
“I should be the one doing the screaming, should I not, Han Jisung?” It’s whispered right into his ear, low and gentle.
Jisung is doomed.
Minho knows his name. He doesn’t know how, but he does and he just caught him trespassing through his property and walking through his never ending garden. “I- I’m so sorry.”
And Jisung actually does cry. Warmth cascading down his cheeks and irritating his skin. “I’m so s-sorry. Please don’t press charges I’ll just leave– yeah? I’ll leave and never come back here. Ever.”
“Okay. You’re okay. I’m not going to press charges, Jisung. You walked through two of my wards, you didn’t go through the third one because I didn’t invite you in. That’s all.” Minho says, running a soothing hand down the length of Jisung’s arms.
Wait–
Wards? “What?”
Minho chuckles, and Jisung finds that he’s no longer crying. “Don’t worry about it. Why are you here, Jisung-ah? It’s late, and I’m pretty sure I told you to bring the baskets back tomorrow.”
Fingers snapping again, and the left side of the manor lights up above them. “Okay– what the hell.”
He freezes up, taking a step back from Minho’s chest, Jisung looks at him with wide eyes. His eyes are brown, but still as mesmerizing as Jisung first found them to be. There’s a depth to them that makes Jisung want to follow Minho everywhere, sit down next to him and hear him talk about the bloody weather for all Jisung cares.
“Why are you here, Jisung?” Minho asks again. He doesn’t sound too annoyed, but Jisung did break into his property after midnight. He wouldn’t blame Minho for being mad.
He splutters again, looking down at his feet. “I just – I was curious. You transformed this thing! It used to be abandoned and creepy and broken everywhere and now it’s like– It’s like you’ve lived here forever.”
A look of understanding crosses Minho’s face, taking a step forward towards Jisung. He’s not shaking anymore, even if he’s still a little bit creeped out by all of this.
“Well, you’d be surprised what an old, bored guy like me can do with so much free time. Do you want to come inside? It’s much better than out here in the dark.” Minho snaps his fingers again when he’s done speaking, a light turning on over the porch.
All of this is so – weird. It’s too odd. Jisung doesn’t understand.
But Jisung did come here for something. Curiosity is a nasty companion of his, follows him around and gets him in tricky situations most of the time. And Minho looks harmless.
Besides that whole finger snapping quirk of his.
So naturally, Jisung nods. And follows Minho towards the porch.
The inside of the manor looks nothing like Jisung had imagined. It’s weirdly modern, but Jisung can see that Minho had added some subtle touches of vintage decor throughout it all.
Jisung visits the living room first, with its high ceiling and molding all over it. Jisung runs his fingers over antique pieces of furniture and then the flat screen television hung on the wall. It looks beautiful. Jisung looks around himself with stars in his eyes, and wonders how Minho has acquired so many trinkets already. He doesn’t look older than thirty.
Minho snaps his fingers again when they reach the kitchen and right as he does, the fireplace bursts into flames. Blue ones. Green. Pink. Jisung is on the verge of screaming again, looking at Minho with fear coursing through his veins.
“Okay, this is getting really creepy. What is your deal?” Jisung says, pointing an accusatory finger towards Minho.
The other laughs, holding both hands at his waist with his palms up. “Do you know anything about warlocks, Jisung? Besides that.. Old fashioned costume of yours.”
“Other than the fact that they’re mythical supernatural creatures with really cool powers, not really.” Jisung says, a frown forming on the space between his eyebrows. He has no idea what Minho is talking about.
The other nods, taking a step towards Jisung again. It has Jisung stepping back, the back of his knees hitting a hard surface – again. He falls on the chair, his back meeting the dark, oak wood of it. “Sorry, I need you to be sitting down. Wouldn’t want you to faint and scrape your gorgeous face, now would we?”
Jisung gulps, the fear crawling back into his chest and clawing at his skin. Begging to engulf him whole. “Why would I faint? You’re scaring me, Minho.”
“I’ll spare you the boring details for now. Personally, I was born in the 17th century. More than three hundred years ago. My mother was a simple human, just like you. My father used to be the ruler of hell.”
His throat is clogging up. Jisung shouldn’t believe any of this. Minho is probably messing with him, trying to scare him in honor of Halloween. It sucks that Jisung is easily terrified of literally – anything. Ever. Even if horror is his favorite genre of movies right after romance. “Very funny. Wow, you totally had me hyung. I definitely got scared, you win!”
Minho chuckles, hands still by his waist. “My birthday was six days ago, actually. I turned 362, which is crazy.” Minho snaps his fingers again, a bright, blue light flowing right above his hand. “I was 10, when I learned how to do this. A bit late.”
Jisung wants to scream. Is he under something? He hasn’t drank anything. Just water, and that juice Haebin kept stealing. But he’s totally not hallucinating the bright blue ball of light coming from Minho’s palm. “W-what is going on?”
“I know it’s a lot. I also know you had no idea warlocks could look.. Like me.” Minho says, playing with the ball of blue light, swooshing it around and jungling it from hand to hand. “We follow the trends. We have to, unfortunately. If I still looked like I did in 1846, I’m sure some heads would turn when I walk down the streets.”
Jisung has a hard time breathing. The ball is getting bigger, Minho is approaching faster. He should get up and run, but he doesn’t. Jisung stays stuck to his chair and looks at the man standing dangerously close to him. “I don’t– I’m not following. You– what are you?”
“I’m a warlock, Jisungie.” Minho says, as if he was talking about the fucking weather.
Jisung wants to laugh. He also wants to scream, and cry. Maybe run for his life. But he stays put. “But they’re not– they’re not real.”
Minho snaps his fingers again and a box of pop tarts falls right into Jisung’s lap, over his shaking legs. “I’m very real, Jisung. You’re just not supposed to know about my existence.”
“So w-why. Why are you telling me?” His voice is trembling, and when Minho gets closer, Jisung can see the mole scattered over his skin. Over his chest, his face. He wants to kiss the one on his nose – okay. He’s supposed to be terrified. “I’m sorry about breaking in. I was just – curious.”
“Curiosity killed the cat, Jisungie.” Minho smiles, bunny teeth on display. A cute contrast to what he just said.
“I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me. Y-you can make me forget if you want? Encanto or something, right?” Jisung grips the box of pop tarts tight between his fingers, ruining it as his blood runs cold.
When Minho laughs, Jisung gets even more scared. “That’s vampires, sweetheart. But I won’t kill you, deer-eyed boy. You’re too cute for that, and I’m not allowed anyway.”
Jisung slumps back into his chair, weirdly comforted by what the other just said, until he realizes what he actually just said. “Vampires? Oh god.”
Minho snaps his fingers again, the blue light disappearing. He pushes his hands down, palms facing the floor before turning them over again and lifting his arms over his head. When Jisung turns his head, he sees a flash of gold surrounding the manor. “Sorry, I had to put my wards back up. Just in case.”
“And you seemed – harmless. That’s why. I don’t think I’ve laid eyes on anyone as beautiful as you in over a century. Might as well test my luck.” He says, extending his hands towards Jisung. They look soft, like he takes good care of himself. But Jisung can see some bruising on his knuckles, his skin red and purple.
The – warlock speaks again, probably seeing Jisung’s turmoil. “There are more rooms for you to visit, if you want to. I just finished the second floor.”
Right. The light shining from the windows. Minho was not playing around with new lighting equipment. He was just remodeling an entire room. With magic. Because he’s a warlock.
Jisung thinks he’s going to have an aneurysm soon enough. Or wake up from a coma and all of this would have been a sick and twisted dream.
But he nods. He fucking nods and grabs Minho’s warm hands, letting him pull him up from his chair. Jisung breathes out, trying to wrap his head around all of this new information. He wishes he didn’t believe Minho. That he used his legs to run out of the place he’s always been scared of, but instead, Jisung follows the pretty man up the stairs of his manor after taking his shoes off.
It’s lit up so beautifully, ambient lighting easy on Jisung’s eyes as they go up the never ending staircase. “You’re not going to chase me around, are you?”
Minho chuckles, looking back at Jisung from a few steps higher. “I’m too old to run around, Jisung. You’re free to leave if you wish to.”
Oddly enough, Jisung doesn’t want to leave. He knows he should. But he’s so intrigued, so many thoughts are running around his mind. And Minho is hot. More than Jisung wants to admit. If he had to describe his type, he’d just have to show a picture of him.
“Well, not before I see those second floor rooms you’ve bragged about.” He says, nodding towards the stairs. They hike up the steps, so many of them that Jisung starts breathing heavily.
“We’re almost there.”
Jisung takes a break, bending down as he takes a deep breath. “Can’t you–” Jisung snaps his own fingers before moving his hands around in very.. animated ways. “And put an elevator in here or something? These stairs are murderous.”
“First of all, I do not look like this.” Minho says, pointing a finger at Jisung. “And I could, but it would ruin the charm of the manor. Also, it’s good everyday cardio.”
Soon enough, after Jisung ogled Minho’s ass during the entirety of their journey upstairs, both of them arrive at the top of the stairs and Jisung has never been more thankful about anything in his entire life. “Fuck, finally.”
“You’re lucky I don’t have a curse jar, Jisungie.”
Jisung can count sixteen doors from where he’s standing. And that doesn’t include the ones he can’t see past the hallway. He’s afraid he’s going to be here all night, but Jisung thinks he doesn’t really mind being stuck in this oversized house with a very hot man showing him around.
Minho snaps his fingers and a single door opens, the light coming from inside a pretty shade of gold, matching the color of the contact lenses Minho was wearing earlier.
“I forgot to ask, but I was wondering where you got those contacts from? They looked really cool. And very realistic. Maybe I’ll dress up as you next year.” Jisung says, laughing at his own words before Minho grabs his wrists and stops him right before he steps inside the room.
“Contacts?” He says, confusion written all over his face. Until his mouth forms into an o shape. “Oh! You mean these?”
When Minho’s eyes shift from their human looking brown color to a beautiful shade of yellowish gold with slits in the middle of them, Jisung jumps. “Holy shit.”
“These are my real eyes. They’re my very own warlock mark. All of us have a different one, I happened to be blessed with cat eyes, just like my father was. But his were bright green.” Minho explains, eyes turning back to brown as he blinks. Jisung kind of misses them already.
Jisung notes the past tense, but decides to not bring it up. Instead, he just nods and walks towards the only lit up room he sees. “Well, they’re cool. And pretty? In their own way.”
As Jisung steps into the room, he’s left in awe. It’s beautiful, modern with a tinge of vintage just like the rest of the manor. The bed is neatly made, sheets a gorgeous shade of burgundy. It looks fancy, elegant. Nothing Jisung is used to, his own sheets back home worn out and he’s sure there are at least three holes in the ones currently covering his bed.
He was about to speak, when a very unfamiliar voice speaks above him. Or next to him. Under him, perhaps. He has no idea.
“Ouuuh, that’s a cute one, hyung! Nice catch!”
Minho groans next to him. Jisung fears for his life. Is that a ghost? Or worse, the evil spirit that keeps Minho company?
Nice catch? Maybe Jisung should have ran. Maybe he should have used his not-so-long legs to get the fuck out of here when was he given the chance. Three times he could have escaped but decided to stay because he was curious.
And now, it’s about to bite him in the ass. He’s totally getting sacrificed. Minho is about to tie him up and skin him alive.
“Ya! Kim Seungmin, not now!” Minho says, fingers rubbing at his temples in exasperation. “Will you leave us alone before I close your portal forever and you’ll never get to come here ever again?”
Jisung shakes next to him, eyeing the chair in the corner of the bedroom. Minho is totally sacrificing him in this. It looks old. Ancient, even. Maybe that’s his Thursday night routine, sacrificing naive little humans like Jisung.
“I’m sorry, Jisung. Please don’t mind my stupid little brother. He’s also a warlock, but he’s currently on mandatory vacation in Hell.” Minho acts like this is the most normal thing he had said all night. Jisung wants to rip his hair out.
“Vacation, in Hell? Not only is that an insane thing to say, but if we even forget about this, how is he talking to us? From Hell?” Jisung asks trying to ignore the fact that Minho just said he had a little brother currently vacationing in fucking Hell of all places.
“Long story short, warlocks can make portals that connect two places together. Seungmin sometimes gets bored and opens the one that leads to here from Hell to spy on me and scare my guests.” Minho says, stepping right behind Jisung inside the room. “But he doesn’t have access to my bedroom, so the moment I close this door, he’ll stop annoying us.”
“I can hear you, you know? We’ll see how bored you get when you have to come here.”
“Bye Seungmin!” Minho yells out before snapping his fingers again, the door behind them closing shut. “Better. Where were we?”
Jisung shivers when the last three words are spoken directly into his ear, Minho’s hot breath fanning over his skin. He feels so warm.
“Tell me, Jisung-ah. Have you ever had a crush on anyone before?” Minho steps around him as he speaks, fingers snapping and blue sparks erupting at the tips of them.
“Y-yeah? I guess so.” He has. Many times before, but Jisung can’t remember the last time he did have a crush on anyone. “Why?”
Minho smiles, circling Jisung again. “Have you ever liked someone to the point of feeling your heart beat faster anytime you see them?”
At his words, Jisung can feel the rhythm of his heart spiking up. Rattling against his ribcage, so fast it almost hurts. “Maybe?”
“I wonder, Jisung, if you ever liked someone so much your breath got caught in your throat whenever they looked at you.” Minho snaps his fingers right across Jisung’s chest and some blue sparkles appear once more, bouncing off his hoodie.
Jisung takes a deep breath, as if he was short of oxygen, lungs begging for him to inhale deeply.
“It’s what happened to me, when I saw you standing in front of me earlier. Deer-eyed boy with a pretty smile and cheeks that redden quite easily. So beautiful I lost the ability to breathe for a second when our eyes met the first time.” Minho steps right in front of him then, bringing his fingers to Jisung’s chin, tracing the bone of his jaw.
Looking up, Jisung takes a deep look at Minho’s features before smashing his lips against Minho’s soft ones.
He’s not thinking. Kissing a stranger who happens to be a supernatural guy from Hell in his home when he’s known him for a few hours. Minho should scare him. Jisung should feel the need to run, but as he presses his lips harder against the warlock’s, Jisung wants nothing more than to stay here. Minho seems.. harmless.
“You’re– you’re beautiful too. Hot. Very, very hot.”
Jisung doesn’t do one night stands. He’s too lazy to go out here and bring someone home, go through the hassle of telling them he doesn’t really want a relationship but also hates waking up alone after having sex.
Right now, as Minho slots their lips back together and brings both hands to the sides of his face, tilting his head to the side to deepen their kiss, Jisung wants nothing more than to spread himself on the bed behind him and let Minho have his way with him.
“Hot, uh? I don’t hear that one very often.” Minho chuckles, snapping his fingers once more to dim the lights of the room.
“See, that is extremely hot. Ten out of ten would watch you do this all day long type of hot.” Jisung feels so warm in his hoodie, his sock clad feet shuffling on the floor as Minho looks at him.
Snap.
The tips of the warlock’s fingers glow with a bright shade of purple, not blue anymore. “Yeah? Why don’t you undress and lay on the bed, Jisungie?”
Jisung is so excited. He almost rips his hoodie off, making sure to grab his shirt with it as he takes it off and throws it on the ground. His pants are next, leaving his boxers on before he rushes to the bed, kneeling over it before sitting down, wanting to face Minho.
“You’re so eager. Aren’t you scared anymore, Jisungie? I could have sworn you wanted to run away. Your eyes are very expressive.” Minho takes his time walking towards him, playing with the tips of his fingers as he unbuttons the remaining buttons of his shirt.
“I– I’m not scared.” He says, teeth latching on his plush button lip and biting down hard.
“Yeah, I can tell, baby.” Minho points to Jisung’s very obvious hard-on tenting the material of his boxers. He doesn’t even have it in himself to be shy about it. “There’s a lot of things you can do with magic, you know.”
A finger runs down the length of his chest, sending shocks of electricity through his body. Minho kneels on the bed, bracketing Jisung’s trembling legs with his clothed knees. “Show me, then.”
Minho smirks, hand warming up against Jisung’s chest. The pad of his thumb pushes across one of his brown nipples, so hot Jisung thinks he’s burning him. Minho rolls the numb underneath his finger, those same shocks tearing a moan out of Jisung’s mouth.
A snap of his fingers echoed through the walls again and Jisung finds himself pinned to the bed, back bouncing off the mattress. He can only whimper, tent in his boxers getting tighter, wetter as the head of his cock leaks steadily under Minho’s stare.
It’s fast. Jisung doesn’t remember the last time he had wanted anyone this badly, this deeply. “C’mon, Minho.”
His boxers are off before he can even blink, hard cock flopping on his stomach with a wet sound. Jisung wants. He wants so much his thighs are shaking. Minho kisses him again, lips wet and bruising. His tongue brushes past the seam of his lips before dipping inside his mouth, licking the ridges of his teeth before tangling with Jisung’s own.
Jisung is impatient.
He wants it, and he wants it now. He doesn't know what it is about Minho that turns him on so much, legs spreading wider the moment the warlock lifts off him. When he looks at him, Minho is taking his shirt off and throwing it to the pile already on the floor. His pants follow suit, and Jisung is greeted with the sight of a bulge the size of his fucking fist.
“Off,” he says, nodding towards Minho’s boxers as he grips his own length and gives himself a lazy stroke. “You’re so fucking hot, shit.”
Minho listens. He takes his boxers and lets his cock hang heavy between his -very muscular- thighs. Jisung drools. Or he thinks he is.
“Oh wow.” He doesn’t even know what he’s referring to. Minho is so — gorgeous. From head to toe. Strong chest, soft belly, thighs that look like they could crush Jisung’s head and a pretty, slightly curved and very big cock attached to his body.
Jisung needs him. He needs him so badly he whimpers when Minho steps towards him again. “You’re so big, shit. I need you in me. Right now.”
Minho snaps his fingers again, and Jisung almost comes from the sight as he sees Minho’s left hand’s fingers getting coated in a thick layer of lube. He brings his hand down between Jisung’s legs, dipping closer to where he craves him the most. If Jisung had the patience, he’d get on his knees and worship Minho’s cock like it deserves. But he’ll keep that for another time, when his insides aren’t begging for Minho to fill him up.
It’s so warm when the tip of Minho’s finger pushes inside. Jisung wonders if it’s still glowing purple. “You can— you can go faster. I won’t break, Minho.”
When the warlock pushes two back in on his next thrust, Jisung arches off the bed at the dull pain soothing up his lower back. “Good enough for you, baby?”
Jisung nods, eyes opening back up to look at Minho. He’s met with a sea of yellow, cat eyes burning holes into his own human ones as Minho fastens the flick of his hand. “So pretty.”
“Yeah, you are.” Minho smirks, bending down to capture Jisung’s lips in another kiss.
Usually, Jisung tries to take his time when it comes to having sex. Granted he doesn’t do a lot of that lately, but whenever he decides to get laid he enjoys not rushing. Getting on his knees, making his partners come with his tongue first and then offer himself. Jisung always makes a show of fingering himself for the people he sleeps with.
But Minho is so— he doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand why his brain reacts to him that way, but Jisung looks deep into his eyes and silently begs for another finger.
Minho indulges him, takes them out and snaps his fingers again. And suddenly, Jisung feels so wet. Like he’s dripping, hole clenching around nothing as Minho takes his time stuffing his fingers back where Jisung is burning. But when Minho pushes three of his fingers past that tight, clenching ring of muscle, Jisung grips the sheets and and feels his dick twitch where it’s laying over his skin, pulsing as he approaches his high already.
The fingers inside of him spread, stretching him until he’s so loose Jisung thinks Minho’s going to slip in with little to no resistance. Until he’s left on the bed gaping and begging for more, for Minho to flip him around on the mattress and fuck him until he’s too dumb to form a coherent sentence.
Snap. And Jisung gets even wetter, feels it dripping from his hole and pooling down on the sheets below him. Then, Minho finds that bundle of nerves that rips a noise from the where it lays over his vocal chords, punching moan after moan out his chest as the tips of his burning fingers abuse it.
“O-oh. I’m gonna come— Minho, just like this. Fuck.”
He shouldn’t have spoken.
He shouldn’t have, because the moment he says, Minho trusts his fingers in one last time before taking them out and wiping them on the sheets. Jisung mourns the loss already, misses their warmth and their constant pressure over his prostate, hips rutting down in the bed as he chases for more, for something.
“N-no! I was so close,” he says, eyes closing for a second as he breathes in deeply before opening them up again and challenging Minho’s intense gaze.
His eyes are so beautiful. The slits seem bigger, as if Minho is trying to take every single detail in as he racks his eyes down the length of Jisung’s body.
“Don’t worry, Jisungie. You’ll get to come soon, baby.” Minho says, one of his hands wrapping around the girth of his length.
Jisung flips himself on his stomach, holding himself on his hands and knees as he pushes back into Minho’s hips, feeling his ass collide with the warlock’s arm. He’s so warm everywhere. Every inch of Minho’s skin is definitely too hot for a normal human being — but then again, Minho isn’t one.
Fingers snap in his ears again, but Jisung doesn’t feel anything. Until the tip of Minho’s length presses against the rim of his hole, pushing until the head of cock pops inside and already burns him with the stretch.
“S-so big. You’re so big, fuck.” Jisung slides his hips back, the stretch is so — painful. But Minho is so wet. The girth of his length scrapes along his walls, Jisung is sure he can feel ridges on the sides of his cock as the warlock bottoms out. “Holy shit. Holy shit, it hurts.”
Minho’s hip bones touch the skin of his ass lightly, one of his hands runs up and down the length of Jisung’s back multiple times, soothing the ache, the dull pain climbing up his bones and settling at the top of his spine.
It feels so good. Jisung trembles around Minho’s length, clenching around it and feelings its ridges as he slightly moves forward until there’s an inch between the base of the warlock’s length and his sensitive, stretched rim.
Jisung pushes back, arms threatening to buckle under his weight as he feels all of Minho like this.
“Does it feel good, baby?” Minho asks, fingers running through the mess that is Jisung’s brown hair. It’s long now, strands falling past his eyes and others touching his nape. He hasn’t cut it in months.
He nods, dumbly, drool pooling in his mouth as Minho pulls out until only the tip of his cock pulses inside of Jisung and then slams back inside.
“You take me so well, Jisungie. Made for my cock. Maybe it was you that I was missing this entire time.”
They met five hours ago, give or take, but Jisung finds himself nodding along Minho’s insane rambling. “Yes. Just — just for you.”
One thrust, then another, and Jisung is sent face first into the pillowcase underneath him. Minho’s hands are gripping the sides of his hips hard enough for them to stay in place, but Jisung is sure he would have flopped down on the bed if it wasn't for Minho holding him up. His moans are rippling through the air, echoing between the walls of Minho’s room and then back to his ears. He doesn’t even care that he sounds on the verge of coming already.
He’s so sensitive. Rim stretched to fit Minho’s cock inside of him, Jisung can feel his guts molding around the warlock’s shaft, letting him shape his way in and ruin Jisung for anyone else.
Minho doesn’t let up on the pace. He picks up a fast, hard rhythm that punches the moans out of Jisung’s chest cavity from the force of his trusts, fucking him until his throat is dry from all the screaming he’s doing. Minho snaps his fingers again, and Jisung feels wetness dripping down the back of his thighs, settling in the crook of his knees.
“What— what’s this?” He asks, tears lining finally settling at his lash line. He’s so close.
“Lube, baby. I like it wet and messy.” Minho grabs a fistful of his hair, tugs at the roots until Jisung is shouting his name into the silence of the world. “God, you’re so fucking loud.”
Magic is great.
Magic is going to ruin his very human sex life.
Jisung hears the squelch of the lube being fucked out of him, probably frothing up at the base of Minho’s length and running down his balls to add to the mess on the bed. But it feels so good. So wet, so dirty that Jisung has to bite his lip to make sure the sound he was about to make doesn’t push past his throat.
His cock leaks between his legs, but Jisung doesn’t want to touch it. He lets it slap against his belly anytime Minho trusts hard enough for it to swing up and give the head of it the bit of stimulation needed for him to get closer to the edge, climax approaching.
“Close, baby?” Minho asks, grip tightening over Jisung’s hips. Maybe it's a way of marking him down, leaving a trace of himself over Jisung’s tan skin to gift him a reminder of this — of Minho ruining him for anyone else.
“Fuck, yeah. Yes, p-please.” One tear slips past his eyelashes and rolls down his cheek, but Jisung makes no effort to stop it. Another one, and another, until they’re cascading down his skin in a steady flow.
He looks behind his shoulder, eyes locking with Minho’s own. His pupils are a bit more dilated, but Jisung still focuses on the yellow of his irises. It’s so beautiful.
“Oh, Jisungie. You look so pretty when you cry. Makes me want to ruin you even more.” He says, tugging at his hair again and making Jisung shout at the sharp pain in his scalp. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yea! Yeah, fuck. Please, Minho. I need — I need to come.” Jisung cries. His sobs fill up the room and create a melody straight out of his nastiest wet dreams as they mix with the constant sounds of skin slapping against skin and the very distinct squelch of the lube coming from his own ass.
Minho chuckles behind him, giving the roots of his hair another tug. “Next time, baby. Next time I’ll take my time with you, make sure you feel me for days.”
“Can— can feel you in my throat, hyung. Please, please.” Jisung sobs around another moan, his own nails scratching down the sheets.
Minho picks up the pace, hips snapping as he angles his thrusts. When Minho finds his prostate, Jisung moans the loudest he has all night. The tip of his cock is so warm. Pulsing against that sensitive bundle of nerves swelling inside of him. “You can come, Jisungie. Go ahead baby, make a mess for me.”
It’s all Jisung needs to trip over the railings and clench tight around Minho’s length, cock spurting white down on the sheets below him.
He comes thick and heavy, rim squeezing the warlock’s cock inside of him, feelings its ridges and coming harder, pathetic ropes of cum drooling from the slit of his length as Minho fucks him through his high. Jisung feels his orgasm over every inch of skin, hyper aware of the sweat forming a thin layer over his back, beads of it rolling down his temples and mixing with the tears still spilling from his eyes.
Minho falters behind him, thrusts messy and uncoordinated as he reaches his climax. “Shit, you’re gripping me so fucking tight, baby.”
“In-inside, please hyung. Need you to fill me up, mark me as yours. Please,” Jisung breathes out, overstimulation kicking in and sending shivers down his spine.
Cursing again, Minho gives one last snap of his hips before sinking in deep and letting his release paint Jisung’s walls.
So warm. So thick, Jisung feels every pulse of Minho’s heavy cock as he comes hard and deep inside of him.
The grip on his hips loosens and Jisung feels his legs giving out under his weight, letting him fall down on the bed and his own mess. All of it. The lube, his cum. But Jisung is too spent to care, he just rolls on his back and misses the warmth of Minho’s cock inside of him.
“Holy shit.”
“You’re saying this a lot, you know.” Minho flops down next to him, chest heaving as he breathes in.
Jisung turns on his side, eyes settling over Minho’s naked body next to his. He takes him all in, the scar across his ribs and the moles scattered over his chest. Minho glows under the golden light of his bedroom, eyes so yellow and the slits of them back to thin bands running down the length of them.
He brings his hand towards Minho’s jaw, cupping the left side of his face and smiling dumbly. “So pretty.”
Minho chuckles, head shaking as he sits up. “Your legs feel okay enough to get up for a second, Jisungie? I’ll change the sheets.”
He groans, but Jisung gets up nonetheless. Naked, with lube and cum drying on the back of his thighs. He looks at the bed when he’s off of it, eyes widening when he realizes how wet the sheets are. They’re drenched.
“Okay, you like it really wet and messy. Wow.”
Laughing, Minho gets up as well and stretches, arms reaching over his head. Jisung thinks that he looks like a cat like this, limbs pointed and a shiver running down his back as gets on his tiptoes for added effect.
And then, he snaps his fingers again.
Jisung watches as the sheets change colors, going from a beautiful burgundy with a wet spot in the middle of them, to a shade of gold that matches the aura of the room a bit too perfectly.
He groans, soft cock twitching pathetically between his trembling legs. Minho snaps his fingers again, a wet towel landing in the palm of his hand before he moves towards Jisung on the other side of the bed.
Minho runs it down the length of his chest, the touch comforting and warm as he wipes the sweat away from his torso. Jisung blushes, when Minho knees at his feet and puts his free hand between his legs, palm flat against Jisung’s thigh as he gestures for him to spread them furthermore.
The towel feels hot against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs as Minho wipes the mess stuck to his skin. The warlock lays a kiss under Jisung’s navel, lips soft as he presses another down his pelvis, trailing his lips over to the crease st the very top of his thigh, just shy of the base of his length.
Touch light and careful, Minho runs the towel down the cleft of Jisung’s ass. Right over his sensitive and abused rim, making sure he’s as gentle as one could be as he kisses his skin.
The distraction works, Jisung blinks and Minho is back up on his feet and laying one last kiss on Jisung’s welcoming lips before taking a clean side of the towel and wiping gently over his cheeks, making sure his skin is free of the salty water that was irritating him.
Laying back down on the bed, Jisung finds that it’s easy to wrap himself around Minho’s warm body. One leg resting atop of the warlock’s ones, turned on his side and laying his head across his chest.
Like this, Jisung can faintly hear the beating of his heart. Slow, but picking up as he presses a soft kiss right over the scar on his ribs. He wants to sleep. But he also wants to stay awake all night and listen to Minho tell stories about his life, talking his ear off about how Hell is like — Jisung still has a hard time wrapping his head around it all. But he hopes Minho will stick around long enough for Jisung to learn about the stories making up his life.
“Hey, Minho-hyung?” He whispers, cheeks burning when the other snaps his fingers and everything turns dark around them.
The warlock hums, hand drawing circles on the skin of Jisung’s arm. He can feel him running the pad of his index over the vaccine marks at the very top of it, his eyes closing to the feeling of it, drowsiness embracing him.
“You curse a lot when you’re horny. You’re lucky I don’t have a curse jar, Minho.”