cosipotente: (inner monster)
cosipotente ([personal profile] cosipotente) wrote2014-09-18 11:01 pm

The Deals You Make [Part 4]

NC-17 ; Minho/Jinki (Minho/Taemin)
summary: Bodies, like souls, can be lost and it's Minho's job to find them.
word count: 5,282 AU



† glossary † † playlist †










"A madness most discreet."—William Shakespeare








Dawn filters into the room and a sliver of sunlight slants across Minho's eyes, waking him. Despite his sluggishness, he makes an instinctive grab for his alarm clock on the bedside table. Minho cracks an eye open, checking the time, and then shuts off the alarm before it can sound. Beside him, Jinki sleeps curled in on himself half-buried beneath the covers.

As much as he wants to reach over and push the hair from Jinki's sleeping face, Minho doesn't. They are nowhere near that level of domesticity with each other. He can only speculate on what Jinki feels for him. Attraction, gratitude, and maybe something deeper Minho can't read off of him.

What Minho feels for Jinki though, is all tangled together in a delicate, complex web he can’t even begin to pull apart. He knows there is something there beyond the guilt and sexual attraction, but Minho just doesn't know what it is.

He scrubs a hand through his own hair, quelling the earlier urge to touch Jinki, before getting out of bed. Right now isn't a good time to be thinking about these things; there is work to do.

Minho takes a hot shower, and then dresses as quiet as he can while Jinki sleeps on. He tries not to think about how right the other man looks laying in his bed. It takes Minho a long moment to realize he's stopped doing up his pants to stare at the way Jinki nuzzles into Minho's abandoned pillow.

Minho swears under his breath and leaves the room, dressing as he goes towards the kitchen. He makes a cup of tea before he gets to work on Jinki's case. He has no other schedules and he plans to use his time to the fullest. Minho spreads what information he and Jinki could gather on the living room floor, and he goes over it once. Twice, and then a third time to memorize it. He pays special attention to the faces of the boys in Taemin's picture; he needs to be able to recall them in an instant.

With Jinki's file burned into his memory, Minho gets to work on the books he owns. He pours over every tome. When that doesn't pan out, he scours the internet looking for anything that would give them an edge—a means to defeat Vetis.

By mid-afternoon, Minho's only clue is a special kind of blade. Digging any further for information on it yields nothing. Frustrated, he decides to take a break.

Researching had kept his mind from wandering to the man sleeping in his bed room. But as Minho reheats some soup on the stove, his thoughts circle back to Jinki in pleasant, vivid detail. Minho closes his eyes as last night plays in his mind. Jinki's breathless voice is the soundtrack to the images panning out behind Minho's closed eyes. He sees Jinki stroking himself, sees him coming apart.

Minho inhales sharply at the curl of lust that threads through his veins, along with the smell of pungent smell of burnt miso. He’s ruined the soup. It doesn't matter, Minho thinks, dumping it down the drain, hands shaking the slightest bit as he rinses the pot out. He's tasted Jinki. He still tastes him when he runs his tongue along the back of his teeth despite the faint mint aftertaste of his toothpaste. A hunger that can't be satisfied with food pulls at Minho's insides. He gives into it, but only just, and lets his feet guide him back to his room.

Jinki hasn't moved much except to stick a leg out across the bed. Minho follows the limb up until it disappears beneath the covers. Despite himself, Minho smiles and tip-toes closer to the bed. He drags his finger up Jinki's calf, the light dusting of hair ticklish, and over his knee. Jinki twitches but doesn't move from the touch.

Minho jerks his hand back anyway. Panic bubbles in his chest and alarm bells ring in his head. He needs to get out. He needs to be elsewhere. This is dangerous.

Taking the writing pad off his dresser, he jots down a note. His fingers are trembling and his writing suffers because of it. The note, asking for Jinki to call him when he wakes up, is still readable though and Minho leaves it beside his pillow.

He snatches up the case folder and the post-it with the address of the church Taemin was standing outside of as well. Minho leaves the apartment for a little reconnaissance mission, completely aware he's running away. He is treading unfamiliar ground with Jinki. It had been different with Taemin, they had come together like crashing waves. But Jinki isn't Taemin.

That thought repeats itself in Minho's head.

In Minho's room, Jinki presses his face into his pillow. His cheeks are hot and his leg still tingles from the feel of Minho's finger.






The pews of St. Mary’s church are almost empty when Minho wanders in. There are a few pious parishioners on their knees in prayer, but for the most part, the church is still and quiet. Holy. Minho is glad he hadn't waited until tomorrow when the Sunday flock would be in and out of the place all day.

Taking a seat in the middle pews, Minho bows his head as if in prayer, resting his chin on his steepled fingers. He watches from beneath his brows as the last of the faithful trickle out of the church.

In the silence left in the wake of the door swinging shut, Minho catches the sound of a soft voice. It's reverent in prayer, coming from the confessional booths opposite of where he is sitting.

Silently, Minho makes his way to the booth and listens to the voice as it asks for forgiveness. Asks that Lee Taemin be forgiven and welcomed into the Kingdom of Heaven.

He slips into the empty priest's booth and draws back the small screen separating his voice from the penitent's.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned." The voice, boyish and soft, filters into Minho's booth. There is a shaking quality to the kid's tone that smacks of fear.

"Speak your sins." Minho gives his best approximation of being priestly, pitching his voice lower.

There is a long stretch of silence before the kid speaks again. His voice is strained with fear and regret when it reaches Minho's ears.

"I spoke to the dead and called a demon from Hell."

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. They settle into Minho's head like glass beneath his feet.

"How did this come about?" Minho asks, tone even and only mildly perturbed. He is still trying to maintain the priest-like facade. His hands ache to reach through the partition and throttle the kid until he spills everything, though.

Minho focuses instead on throwing his senses outward to read the boy in the opposite booth. Even in the shadows of the confessional, and the murkiness of the astral plane, Minho recognizes the boy's face from Taemin's picture.

He had been the one with his arm thrown around Taemin's shoulder. Chanhee, something whispers across Minho's mind. Lee Chanhee.

"There was a girl with a weird board. A spirit board." Chanhee is saying when Minho pulls his senses back into himself. "We used the board to talk to it. We talked to it and it took Taemin."

Chanhee's voice catches on a sob and Minho, silent and patient, lets him ride his emotions out.

"All sins are forgiven if you swear unto The Lord to never take part in such activities again." Minho says, low and gentle. "Trust in God and you will be safe."

Chanhee chokes out a reverent thanks and Minho heard him begin to exit the booth.

"Child, this girl you spoke of, what was her name so that I may pray for her."

There is a pause for before Chanhee speaks, as if he’s weighing and calculating the risks of sharing such information. Minho’s priest impersonation must be convincing enough because he gets his answer a few moments later.

"Krystal." Chanee says. "She said her name was Krystal."

Relieved of his sins, the kid runs from the confessional. Minho remains frozen in his booth feeling as if he'd just had ice water poured over him.

Krystal Jung, the younger half of the Jung Sisters. Minho has heard whispers of Krystal, and her older sister, Jessica, from the clerical circles and the demonic ones. So he knows, that where one is, the other isn't too far away. The sisters are Markers—picking and choosing vessels for demons—through the use of spirit boards.

Minho leans back, letting the semi-darkness of the confessional wash over him. He has never met the two in person, and even if he had, he couldn't have done anything about them. They are humans, terrible ones, but they are part of the living nonetheless. Minho doesn't hunt humans like he does vessels and demons, doesn't hunt them to put them to permanently put them to rest. But an exception can be made.

A shiver of excitement walks up his spine.




Minho leaves St. Mary’s through the back exit, and thus he is completely blindsided by the fist that connects solid and painful to his jaw. White stars dance in his vision and pain reverberates in his skull. The alley spins and his ears ring, but Minho doesn't crumple.

Another fist catches him in the solar plexus, and this time, Minho falls. His knees hit the concrete as he tries to gasp in air. His head is yanked back, bearing his throat. Smoothing cool presses against his jugular. The alleyway reeks of burning flesh and sulfur.

Demons.

Two of them stare down at him.

"We can't kill you," the one gripping Minho's hair says. She leans down to lick the shell of his ear, pressing what he assumes to be a knife closer against his skin. "But that pretty meatsack you're working for—" she groans against his temple. "The things we could do to him."

It’s meant to antagonize him. And it works beautifully.

Rage twists sharp and hot inside of Minho. It sets his veins on fire with the need to break and destroy.

"Go anywhere near him," Minho bites out, "and I promise to make you suffer before I send you back to hell."

Both demons laugh at his rancor. Neither of them take him seriously, and that's their problem.

Minho surges up, driving the top of his head into the woman's chin. It's a painful blow, but he pushes through it, knocking her back with an elbow to her throat. He sweeps one foot out, grinning at the crunch of bone where his boot connects with the male demon’s cheek and nose. Minho is on him before he hits the ground.

The exorcism rite falls from his lips in perfect cadence. Minho shoves his hands against the struggling chest and pushes. Hard. Bone breaks beneath his fingers, skin melts, and then body burns to ash before the demon can think to scream about it.

He rounds on the female demon. His blood is thrumming with power and his skin is crawling with the need to hurt. Her eyes are wide, frightened, and she scrambles backwards into the wall of the building behind the church. Something inside of Minho tells him to break her. Split her open.

Minho takes a step forward, reaching for her, but he draws up short. He fights to reign in his blood-lust. He takes deep breaths and lets them out slowly. He only just controls himself, though. His hands shake when they wrap around the demon’s thin neck. He cages her.

Minho leans in close to her, as she did him, and breathes into her ear.

"Tell Vetis I’m coming for him."

He removes his hands and she’s gone in an instant like smoke in the wind.




Minho doesn't go back to his apartment immediately. He takes an hour to wind down, to drive off the remnants of adrenaline and fury. It isn't often that he taps into the power Jonghyun gifted him, the powers that come with being hell-spawn. It's dangerous and addictive.

And Minho doesn't want Jinki seeing him like that. Even if Jinki already knows he is less than human, the thought of Jinki looking at him like he does Jonghyun—afraid, disgusted—makes something heavy settle in the pit of Minho's stomach. He wants to be as human as he can be. For Jinki. For himself even.

Not even Taemin had made him feel that way.

Minho is in a convenience store when that thought filters through his mind the way sunlight comes through gray clouds after a storm. He leaves the snacks he intended to buy for Jinki on the counter and practically runs from the store.

A tingling warmth spreads through his chest, into his arms, and his finger tips are tingling when he reaches for the door handle of his car.






When gets back to his apartment, he is calm, but feels close to floating away. He keeps himself grounded by thinking of the work that needs to be done. He has to find the Jung sisters—one or both of them. There's also the mystery of the blade they need for Vetis.

Jinki's case deserves his full attention. Jinki deserves it.

Minho walks towards his room but pauses, and then backtracks to the kitchen. Jinki is up, eating even. At his table with Jonghyun. There is a taught line of tension in Jinki's shoulders but he isn't screaming or running away. He seems to be listening to Jonghyun talk.

This isn't what Minho had expected to come home to. (Maybe he was hoping to kiss Jinki into consciousness.) It's not unpleasant though.

Minho eyes Jonghyun before speaking to Jinki. "How do you feel?" He looks marginally better. The dark circles are mostly gone, and his complexion is even and healthy.

Jinki chews the rice in his mouth before answering. Minho tries to ignore the color that creeps into Jinki's cheeks, but it's mesmerizing kind of.

"I'm good." He says, licking his lips. Minho tracks the movement like a hawk. "Really good. Considering."

Considering his brother's dead body is possessed, his mother is dead, and he's got no home to go back to. And some of it is Minho's fault.

"If it gets any more awkward in here," Jonghyun says, interrupting Minho's thoughts. "I might have to find a hole to bury myself alive in."

Minho glares at him but responds to Jinki. "I'm glad you're feeling better. When you're done eating, when can talk in the living room." Minho points at Jonghyun. "You, come with me."

Jonghyun rolls his eyes, but trails after him anyway. "What did I say about ordering me around?"

"You didn't do anything to him, did you?" Minho hisses accusingly once they are away from the kitchen. He eyes Jonghyun suspiciously.

Jonghyun rolls his eyes. "I just regaled him with the story of my illustrious career as a singer." He looks up Minho with a proud twist of his lips.

It's Minho's turn to roll his eyes. "You—" he taps Jonghyun's chest, "aren't a singer. The guy you're wearing was the singer."

Jinki's quiet laugh interrupts whatever the demon was going to say next. Minho flashes him a small smile. His insides flip nervously when Jinki does the same. Jonghyun gags and Minho has just enough self control to not smack him in the head. He’d like to keep his hands and arms. Minho clears his throat as Jinki takes a seat on the couch.

Minho wastes no time delving into the information he'd gathered throughout the day. He does leave out the alleyway scuffle; somethings are better left unsaid.

"The Jung sisters," Jonghyun's sigh is a filthy, greedy one, "how I would love to get my hands on them."

Minho and Jinki share similar looks of disgust.

"The blade," this from Jinki, "do you know anything about it?" He asks Jonghyun.

The demon shakes his head. "I've never heard of it being a specific weapon. However, I do know of blades that are doused in the heart-blood of the vessel's kin that can displace a demon."

Minho makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. "We don't need to displace Vetis, we need to destroy him." He drags a hand through his hair and sits down heavily next to Jinki.

"Heart-blood?" Jinki asks, leaning closer to Minho. He has to fight not to curl his arm around the older man's shoulders. "What does that mean?"

Minho turns his head a fraction, finds Jinki's mouth to be a little too close (not close enough), and opts to stare down at his hands. "It's exactly what it sounds like. The blade would need to pierce the heart before it can be wielded against the demon."

"Oh."

Minho bumps his shoulder against Jinki's. "Hey, it's not going to happen to you."

Jinki's smile doesn't reach his eyes.

Minho swallows the sigh waiting on the back of his tongue. Back to square one on the weapon. He turns to Jonghyun. The demon is eyeing Minho as if he's never seen him before. Minho ignores it.

"Got any ideas on where we could find Krystal or Jessica?"

The grin that spills across Jonghyun's face prickles at the hair on Minho's arms. "I'll get back to you on that." Jonghyun barely finished his sentence before disappearing.

Beside Minho, Jinki deflates. They don't speak for a long while, the silence stretching between them like a long road. It isn't exactly comfortable, but it isn't entirely awkward either. Conversations build like wildfires in Minho's head but are little more than ash when he tries to get them out of his mouth.

He doesn't know what to really say anyway.

"This will be over soon, won't it?" Jinki asks. He stares across the room blank and unseeing.

Minho reaches for his hand, heartened when he doesn't pull away, laces their fingers together.

"Sooner than you think." It's not entirely a lie.

Jinki squeezes his hand, hard, for a moment and then tugs his fingers away. "What’s next?" He asks.

Minho tries not to think about how stupidly empty his hand feels without Jinki's. Instead, he thinks about what they can do in this moment. "Research. See if we can dig up something on the Jung sisters. I've got newspapers from every on the bookshelf, they should help."

Jinki nods and gets up to get them. Minho follows his lead, but goes for his laptop. "We're looking for disappearances, deaths, or an odd combination of both." Minho instructions as he sits back down on the couch.

Jinki takes the floor, spreading the papers around him. They work silently with the only sounds being Minho's fingers typing, and whisper-soft sound of pages being turned. Occasionally, Minho pulls his eyes from the screen to glance over at Jinki, surreptitiously studying his profile. The way his brows brows furrow as he concentrates. The way he chews lightly at his bottom lip.

"I think I found something," Minho doesn't jump so much as he jerks at the sound of Jinki's voice. He sets his laptop aside and kneels beside Jinki. If he leans into him a little more than necessary, Jinki doesn't seem to mind.

Minho's eyes scan the article Jinki's finger rests on. Two high school students dead. One found wandering naked and covered in blood.

"He was found a few blocks from the crime scene," Jinki reads. "It says he doesn't remember what happened. He was at school and then he was naked outside." He turns to look at Minho. They are so close their noses almost touch. Minho can the warmth of his breath skate across his mouth as Jinki breathes. His eyes follow Jinki's tongue when it darts out to wet his lips.

"Does that sound like our kind of thing?" Jinki asks. His voice is soft, pitch lowered. Minho nods dumbly because he can't tear his eyes away from Jinki's mouth.

Jinki's hands move from the newspaper to cup Minho's face. His thumb drags slowly across Minho's bottom lip before dipping inside to press against his tongue. Minho sucks at the digit, watching Jinki's nose flare when he inhales. Slowly, the thumb is withdrawn and Jinki slants his mouth over Minho's, tongue delving in where his finger had been.

One of them groans, Minho thinks it might have been himself, but sets them in motion. He presses Jinki closer and guides him down, laying him on the newspapers. Jinki laughs into the kiss and the sound curls low in the pit of Minho's stomach.

The groan that rumbles between them is definitely Minho's. He hikes Jinki's shirt up and tears his mouth away long enough to bite playfully at Jinki's chest. The noises he makes in the back of his throat, the way he rolls his hips upward, urge Minho lower. He cups Jinki's cock through the paltry barrier of his sweat pants (ones he borrowed from Minho). Jinki is hot and half-hard beneath his hand.

"Floor or bed?" Minho asks between nips on Jinki's hip bone. He twists beneath Minho, biting back a moan. Minho doesn't particularly have an opinion on where they end up, they could go to the moon for all he cares, he just wants to pull Jinki apart with his hands and mouth.

"Bed."

Minho pulls Jinki up, pulls him in for a kiss, and they aren't more than a couple of inches away from each other the whole time it takes them to get to Minho's room. The bed is made up neatly, no doubt done by Jinki, and Minho can barely contain his desire to mess it up again.

They break apart to wrestle out of their clothes and crash together again on the cool sheets. Minho on his side with Jinki's back pressed along his front. He bites into the skin of Jinki's neck while his hand trails between his legs, cupping Jinki's cock and tugging slowly.

Minho's name falls from Jinki's like a prayer.

He throws a hand back behind him, pawing at his bedside table until his fingers hook the middle handled. Minho tugs it open with a grunt. His fingers scramble inside, digging under his socks, searching for the bottle of lube he keeps there. He feels plastic and yanks it out with a victorious chuckle that breaks off into a groan. Jinki writhes back against him like a cat in heat.

"Touch yourself." Minho murmurs into Jinki's. He smiles when Jinki's hand wraps around his cock, doing as told. Minho wastes no more time. He uncaps the lube and squeezes a generous amount into his waiting hand. Recapping it, he sets the bottle behind him, Minho rubs his hands together to warm the lube up.

He nips at Jinki's shoulder. "You ready?"

Jinki drawn out whine sends hot shivers down Minho's back. He cups one hand carefully beneath Jinki's balls, grinning at the way his hips buck, while the other hand presses between the firm muscles of Jinki's ass.

It's sweet, slow work, stretching Jinki around his fingers. He listens to every hitch of breath, feels every twitch, Jinki makes. And then he is whispering into Minho's ear, voice scratchy with need, telling him to do it.

Minho's cock slides into slow and steady. Jinki groans, clenching tight around him. They both still for a long moment, breathing together. Minho has no reference level for perfect moments, but he would put this one down, in exact detail, as a perfect moment. Jinki tight and hot and moaning Minho's name. Definitely a perfect moment.

It's made even more perfect when Jinki twists slightly to lick into Minho's mouth at the exact moment his hips roll forward. Minho doesn't bother holding back his groan, thrusting into Jinki's welcoming heat.

Jinki's hand snakes into Minho's hair, tugging just shy of painful, so he can pant into Minho's ear.

"Harder." His voice is thick with need.

Minho squeezes the fingers of his left hand into Jinki's hip. There will be bruises there tomorrow. He can do faster if Jinki wants it. Minho's own hips smack into Jinki's ass he sets a faster, deeper pace. His right hand slides between Jinki's legs, pushing them open in a lewd display. He takes his time wrapping his hand around Jinki's heavy erection.

Minho is rewarded with a low whine of pleasure. The sound goes straight to his cock, and he wonders if Jinki felt the throb. His orgasm coils low and hot in his stomach. Minho runs his thumb over the head of Jinki's dick, presses his thumb into the wet slit, and drags the thick drop of pre-come down the shaft.

Minho tightens hand and let's Jinki fuck into it as Minho fucks in and out of Jinki.

Jinki comes gasping Minho's name like it's the only word he knows. His come spills onto Minho's hot and thick.

Minho pumps into Jinki twice with quick, jerky thrusts before he pulls out. He jerks himself off against the curve of Jinki's ass, enthralled by the sight of his come painting Jinki's skin.

He drops his head on Jinki's shoulder. He's completely spent and his limbs are too heavy to move.

"That was-" Minho fights to find an adequate description. His mind is sluggish.

"Perfect." Jinki supplies, twisting to look at Minho.

Minho nods. His eyes fall shut as he leans in the slightest bit to kiss Jinki. He's never felt so tired. Or good. From somewhere far away, he feels something warm and wet press into his skin. He tries to say thank you, but even to his own ears it's all nonsensical mumbling.

He dreams of Jinki laughing in his ear. It's a good dream.




Jinki watches Minho sleep as the morning sun cascades into the room. His lashes rest against his cheek and Jinki gives serious thought to pressing his lips against them, kissing Minho awake. He decides against it though. Minho looks so at peace it would be a shame.

Jinki drags his hand slowly down his side, he's naked beneath the covers, pressing his fingers into the bruises Minho left behind. Last night had been perfect, as he had said. Sex with Minho is unlike anything Jinki has experienced—not that he’s gotten the chance to. But the weight of everything else Jinki's mind won’t shut up about forces a coldness into his limbs.

Guilt claws down the back of his throat. Shame leaves an ashy taste on his tongue when he swallows.

Jinki slides out of Minho's loose hold and quietly makes his way into the bathroom. He tries not to revel in the ache of his muscles with each step. He tries, but fails, to avoid looking at himself in the mirror. The faint pink bite marks around his neck and the outline of Minho's fingertips on his hips captivate Jinki. He watches the smile that had formed unconsciously on his lips slide away.

Here he is being happy while somewhere out there his dead brother’s body is being defiled. The thought almost makes him want to throw up.

Jinki wrenches his eyes away from his reflection and ducks into the shower. He sets the water to almost scalding and scrubs at his skin until it's raw. If only it was that easy to scrub Minho off of him.

Minho is still sleeping when Jinki goes back into the room for clothes. He has to borrow another shirt and a pair of sweats from Minho's drawer. He supposes he should feel guilty about that too, but he doesn't. Not when he smells like Minho.

He takes himself, the gray cloud above him, and his dark thoughts to kitchen for tea.

The apartment is quiet, but it isn't empty. Jonghyun sits at the table giving him a look that makes his skin crawl. It’s a look that says he knows exactly what Jinki and Minho got up to.

"Good morning." Jinki croaks out stiffly. The demon still unsettles Jinki. Jonghyun arches a brow but doesn't say anything until after Jinki has made his tea and sits down.

"You think too loud," Jonghyun says. “I could hear you while you were showering.”

Jinki freezes, cup suspended before his lips. Dread creeps along his skin like spiders made of ice and electricity.

"This mix up with your brother isn't your fault," Jonghyun continues. "But you will be the one to end it." He rakes his eyes over Jinki in a way that is distinctly uncomfortable and Jinki tries not to flinch. "Would you sacrifice yourself to save Minho? To get your brother’s body back, would you die?" Jonghyun asks like he’s asking about the weather; offhanded and uninterested.

With shaking fingers, Jinki sets his cup down. Would he do that? Getting Taemin's body back would give him peace of mind. It wouldn't entirely erase the feeling that he’d failed Taemin, but it would make Jinki feel as though he’d done at least one thing right. So, yes, he would die for his dead little brother.

Would he die for Minho? A part of him would just to ensure Minho continued to exist. He helps people. Minho does the world good. But the other part of Jinki, the selfish part of him, wants to live. He wants to hold on as tightly as he can to his life if only to see another day with Minho.

"Yes," Jinki says slowly. He looks directly at Jonghyun, meeting his sloe-eyed gaze. "I would die for them."

Jonghyun hums thoughtfully, canting his head. He observes Jinki for a long minute before speaking again. "Why for Minho? I get why you'd die for your brother. He's family, you blame yourself, and your parents raised you to feel guilty for things out of your control."

Anger coils sharp inside of Jinki at that. He isn't exactly sure if it’s because of the disrespect, or because it’s the truth. "You don’t have the right to—"

Jonghyun’s eyes flash black. Jinki bites his tongue until his mouth tastes like copper.

"I don't need rights. If I want to talk about your shitty parents, I'll talk about them until you're bleeding from your ears." Jonghyun hisses. Each word is punctuated with the temperature in the room dropping. He smirks, satisfied that Jinki keeps his mouth shut, but his eyes remain dark empty pools. "Again, why Minho?"

Jinki breathes slowly out of his nose, letting his jaw unclench. For a few seconds, the words refuse to take shape outside of his mouth. He hasn't even told Minho this.

"I like him. I like him more than I probably should."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Jonghyun sounds downright giddy as he pushes out of his chair. "I'm going to give you something to help with your case. It's your only freebie from me."

Jonghyun taps a hand against his chest and Jinki sits stock still as a black hole opens up. Jonghyun pushes his hand into the hole, up to his forearm, and pulls out a sword. It's a rusty thing about as long as Jinki's leg. Jonghyun lays the sword on the table and passes a hand over his chest closing the hole.

"Remember to play your part," Jonghyun instructs. "You have to die for any of this to work."

Before Jinki can even think to open his mouth, Jonghyun is gone. Jinki sits for a moment in the silence and stillness left in his wake. Tentatively, he reaches out and runs his finger over the bone white hilt, the demon's words echoing in his head. And suddenly, Jinki finds himself laughing quietly as he cries.


















† back † † forward †





Author Note: One or two more parts and Deals will be done.


[started: 2012.07.30 - finished: ----]

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