Taehyung is growing accustomed to feeling a tug on his shirt as he attempts to finally roll out of bed. As he does every morning, he turns to pry Jeongguk’s fingers from the hem of the fabric, only for him to whine and wiggle closer and wrap himself around Taehyung’s arm instead.
“Let me up,” Taehyung mumbles, scrubbing his free hand over his crusty eyes. Sleep clings to him just as hard as Jeongguk and the pressure built up in his bladder is borderline painful. “Gotta pee.”
One of Taehyung’s fingers disappears into Jeongguk’s mouth; an obvious sign of defence. “Hun’ry.”
“No fucking will occurr ‘til I’ve peed.”
“But you always say that, and then you never come back to bed. You go make your gross dirt water while I have to wait,” Jeongguk complains. “Just pee here.”
Taehyung lets his hand fall to his thigh with a fleshy slap! and stares hollowly at the faded yellow paint on the bedroom wall. Repainting the house was on his to-do list when he bought the place, however the demon-related shenanigans caused some minor (major) setbacks. It’s an ugly color now, but it was probably uglier when it was first applied. Like, day-old mac n’ cheese kind of yellow.
“First off,” he says. very. slowly, “it’s coffee.”
Dirt, Jeongguk hisses but Taehyung opts to ignore him.
“Second, I am not peeing here. That’s fucking gross and unsanitary.”
“I saw Luna do it.”
“Yeah, and I shoved her nose in it and told her she was a bad girl, and then threw her outside to contemplate her mistakes. Floors are not for pissing.”
Then, Jeongguk suggests, “You could pee in me,” and Taehyung nearly flings himself from the bed—who needs two hands anyway? Jacking off only takes one.
“No,” he says sternly, as soon as he gathers himself. It isn’t like he and Jimin never experimented with kinks throughout the course of their relationship, but piss was just one of those unsavory things he couldn’t wrap his brain around finding arousing. God bless the people who did, but that was not Taehyung’s cup of tea. And Jeongguk is his sex demon, dammit, and therefore should ascribe to his fetishes.
Thankfully, Jeongguk tosses the topic to the wind as soon as he realizes that suggestion did not have garner its desired response and paws at the front of his shirt to seek out his cock. “Just let me suck you off—”
Jeongguk, to his credit, at least pauses to listen.
“You let me go to the bathroom, and then I’ll fuck you while the coffee is brewing.”
Giving a great big huff, Jeongguk finally releases him and flops back against the pillows like Taehyung has just announced he’s going out to sea for six months. “Fine. Go.”
Taehyung bites back a comment that if Jeongguk hadn’t argued for so long, he would’ve gotten what he wanted a lot sooner, but that would only spark an entirely new hissy fit. So, he gets up and lumbers off to the bathroom to do his business in the toilet like a civilized human being. Once he’s finished, he goes to the sink and splashes a bit of cool water onto his face. When he meets his reflection in the mirror, water droplets clinging to the shaggy bangs his hasn’t bothered to cut, he isn’t surprised to see the dark circles sitting under his eyes or the hollowness of his cheeks.
He’s starting to look better, he thinks. The things that eating three meals a day and not crying yourself to sleep every night will do for you. And Jeongguk… As much shit as Taehyung gives him, he enjoys Jeongguk’s company. When he’s hungry, he gets obnoxious, but how genuinely burdensome is sex? Most of the time, he’s simply another presence in the room. Taehyung likes that. The reassurance that he isn’t alone, but they don’t have to talk.
That was one of the bigger stumbling blocks when it came to Jimin. It was like they couldn’t be in the same room without having to interact. Talking, arguing, screaming, crying, fucking. At least, that was how Taehyung felt. But his memories might be skewed, since he was high the majority of that part of their relationship. Maybe he was the one who checked out when Jimin really needed him.
Things with Jeongguk aren’t like that, but Taehyung doesn’t know what it says about him that his relationship with an incubus is better than the one with his childhood best friend.
Jeongguk is waiting for him in the kitchen when Taehyung wanders out to make his coffee. Naked, leaning his elbows on the counter. Taehyung pauses on his way to the coffeemaker to give him a kiss, pressing their lips softly together only for Jeongguk to coax open his mouth and slip his tongue inside. Forked, pierced, and a little bit fatter than Taehyung’s own, Jeongguk’s tongue is an adventure in itself. It seems to be just as much of an erogenous zone as his cock or his ass, and Taehyung loves to play with it, sucking and nibbling on the tails, rubbing over the piercings until Jeongguk is a whiny, drooling mess. But those shenanigans are usually after he’s had his coffee. Taehyung pulls away with a soft tug of Jeongguk’s tongue, leaving both their lips messy and bodies buzzing for a little more. He goes through the necessary steps of coffee preparation before fitting the pot underneath the machine and letting it go to work. Then, he returns to Jeongguk and presses fully against his back.
“Put your cock in me,” Jeongguk says, wiggling his hips.
Taehyung grumbles against his neck. “M’not hard yet.”
“I know. I like it that way.” The wiggles come with a little more intent, like Jeongguk is attempting to use his ass to push Taehyung’s shirt up and out of the way. “Like feeling you fill up inside me.”
Fuck. Taehyung is barely anything when he wraps a hand around his cock, stroking out of habit rather than for pleasure. He tucks his face into Jeongguk’s neck and inhales—Jeongguk isn’t really a swamp demon, but it’s gut instinct more than anything that makes Taehyung expect for him to smell like swamp. However, now that Jeongguk bathes regularly—at Taehyung’s behest—his natural scent is that sweet vanilla that oozes from his insides. Taehyung slides his soft length into the warm, welcoming heat of Jeongguk’s ass, mouthing at his skin, licking a stripe up his neck like he can collect the scent that way and swallow it down like condensation on a glass. It’s never the same, though. Jeongguk doesn’t sweat; he doesn’t produce body fluids other than that vicious slick. His body is, quite simply, fashioned to take dick.
Jeongguk is a whore.
But, Taehyung thinks as he slowly grinds his hips in a circle, feeling the arousal beginning to pool as it always does, it might be that he, himself, is turning into a whore as well. He runs the hand that isn’t holding them steady up Jeongguk’s chest, his neck, and stops at his pouty lips, no wait required for Jeongguk’s tongue to dart out and collect his fingers. Or perhaps it isn’t whorishness on either of their ends, because Jeongguk is hungry and sex is his method of consumption. Jeongguk suck on his fingers, moaning happily.
“Do I feed you well?” Taehyung asks, rocking his hips a little harder, cock fattening up on the rhythmic flexing of Jeongguk’s walls.
Slick oozes between Taehyung’s fingers as Jeongguk’s tongue winds around the parts of his hand that aren’t in his mouth, like a ball python. A very wet one. “If you’re so well-fed, how come you’re always hungry?”
Jeongguk keens high in the back of his throat when Taehyung pulls out partway and thrusts back in. He can’t really answer with half his tongue outside of his mouth, but it’s obvious the question isn’t of particular concern by the way he braces his arms on the counter, nails digging vainly into the laminate, and pushes back against Taehyung to force his cock in deeper.
Without thinking much about it, Taehyung reaches between Jeongguk’s legs to fist his dick. It’s a good dick. Big. Thick. Pierced. Dick that would make any pornstar jealous. But it doesn’t cum. At least, Taehyung has yet to see it. He still likes to touch it, though. Hold its weight in his hand, feel like he’s reciprocating while railing Jeongguk into next week. It doesn’t cum, but wet beads at the slit, rolling down the sides of his cock if Taehyung leaves it sit too long. Each jerk of Taehyung’s palm up and down his cock drags more slick over his skin until slide is just as easy as Jeongguk’s ass.
“A glutton,” Taehyung growls into his ear, throwing his fuck up into Jeongguk hard enough to make him gasp. “That’s what I think you are. I feed you, but you want more and more and more, ‘cos you’re greedy for it. You can’t make yourself stop. A little more, just a little more—isn’t that right, Jeongguk? You wanna get fucked so full, you can’t possibly take another bite, but maybe just… a little… more.”
It doesn’t take much longer for orgasm to crash over him like a tidal wave. Taehyung works his hips, letting Jeongguk milk his cock for every drop of cum it has to offer, then pulls out. A disappointed whine chases him, but Taehyung just gently tugs his hand free of Jeongguk’s mouth so that he can step away. Jeongguk slumps forward on the counter, pouting, swallowing his tongue back down like an electric blue fruit roll-up.
“I want my dirt water,” Taehyung says. The coffee pot has filled during the course of their activities, so he pours himself a cup and leaves himself room to add enough cream and sugar to make it not taste like dirt water.
Jeongguk crinkles his nose at the scent. “Are you sure that’s consumable?”
“Believe it or not, it’s probably one of the least toxic substances I’ve shoved in my body,” Taehyung mutters as he retrieves half & half from the fridge. “I wonder about the first person to try it, though. They must’ve tried eating the beans. I dunno why the next logical step was crushing them up and trying to make a drink out of them, but here we are.”
“Humans are weird.”
Taehyung shrugs. Sips his coffee, decides it’s still too bitter and adds another scoop of sugar. He probably hasn’t stirred it enough and the last inch or so is going to be disgustingly sweet. “I won’t argue with that.”
Jeongguk comes up behind him and winds his arms around Taehyung’s waist, head resting on his shoulder. “What are you doing today?”
“Wanna go out into the woods and get some pictures of, like, flowers ‘n shit,” he replies, sipping his coffee. Ah. That signature musk drowned in milk, just how he likes it. “The paintings I did of the road and the house did really well. Obviously there were some shitty comments about me selling out or whatever, but I can’t paint the shit I used to paint. Emotionally, I’m not there anymore. I can paint some fucking trees like Bob Ross and be happy for once.”
“Am I, what?”
Taehyung knocks his temple against Jeongguk’s and sighs. “I dunno if happy is exactly it,” he says carefully. “But I’m not sad. I’m doing okay. And okay is a lot better than how I used to feel. What about you?”
Jeongguk makes a confused noise. “What about me?”
“Are you happy?” Taehyung asks.
“I’m… not sure my emotions are as complex as yours. I like you, I like spending time with you, so I guess in your terms, that would mean I’m happy,” Jeongguk responds, doing his best to explain. “Sometimes you seem sad, though, and then I don’t feel so good.”
A little bit of guilt pangs in Taehyung’s gut. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bring you down.”
Jeongguk shakes his head, pressing a couple kisses along Taehyung’s neck. “If there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”
“That’s very sweet,” Taehyung mumbles, “but sex can’t solve everything.”
“It doesn’t have to be sex,” which is quite possibly the oddest thing to have ever come out of Jeongguk’s mouth. “If you want it to be sex, it can be sex, but… we can do whatever it is that you like doing when you’re feeling sad.”
Taehyung is touched, to say the least, that Jeongguk would even take his feelings into consideration. Demons seem to be selfish creatures by nature, and while that isn’t necessarily their fault, it’s just a part of their psyche, Taehyung appreciates the attempt to diversify. Whether that sentiment will come to fruition or turn out to be an empty promise remains to be seen, but the effort counts for something.
He turns his head to press a kiss against Jeongguk’s cheek. “That’s very sweet. Thank you.”
The morning proceeds as most do. Taehyung takes Luna outside to do her business; he still needs to have some kind of fence put in, but fences require money, and he’s been surviving the past couple weeks on art money (so, not much) and the good grace of his parents. Employment would be easier to find back home, but an hour commute isn’t exactly ideal, so Taehyung has turned his attention towards the tiny little town a few miles west called Woodwitch, where Yoongi sells his produce. There isn’t much else besides the general store, a bank, and a handful of other shops, but it’s worth a try.
Once Luna is safely back inside with Jeongguk, Taehyung takes his camera, steels his nerves, and hikes into the woods. If he were to be really honest—and he has no reason not to be at this point—the woods scare the shit out of him. Several times, he’s woken in a cold sweat after nightmares about being trapped out there, chased down by some unknown, invisible entity. Sometimes he’s just running, but other times, the mud sucks him down like it did in his first nightmare, or the tree branches will reach out and grab him. Jeongguk is always waiting for him on the other side, in the waking world, but he can’t save Taehyung in the dreams.
Which leads Taehyung to his decision to face his fears and go on a little nature expedition. If the woods truly have their own sort of consciousness like Jeongguk says that they do, maybe he can sort of progressively desensitize them to his presence and show them he doesn’t mean any harm.
He’s on a mission to become a literal tree hugger, go figure.
As soon as he’s looking through the lens of his camera, Taehyung finds it much easier to settle in. These woods are so old and established, with trees the width of a Mazda, fallen logs covered in the aesthetically perfect amount of moss. Everywhere he looks, the scenery is picturesque, begging for its own story to be told. He crouches down to get a close-up on a berry bush, still glistening with morning dew. A squirrel runs down the trunk of a nearby tree, some kind of nut clenched tightly in is jaws; it takes a cursory glance at Taehyung before scampering away.
Anxiety abated and content to wander, Taehyung basks in the magnificence surrounding him. Who does he need to be, in the midst of such beauty? No one in particular—he’ll take these photographs back home with him and try his hardest to do them justice on canvas, but even the most talented artist in the world could never compare to the real thing. Taehyung can just be thankful for his existence that allows him to witness this.
A little pop of color catches his eye as he starts to make his way back towards the house. He’s seen a handful of wild flowers here and there, but none quite like this. This one is larger, nearly the size of his palm, with pale blue petals that get darker closer to the stem. As Taehyung squats to take a closer look at it, he notices that the petals have some kind of iridescent sheen to them. He takes a photo, but they’re so beautiful, he can’t help picking one to bring back with him. The house is looking a little drab; it could use some color.
Now that he isn’t in much of a hurry to get home, it figures that the house appears much more quickly than he anticipates. He enters the kitchen and rummages around for something to put the flower in, only managing to come up with an empty wine bottle. Perhaps there’s some kind of weird aesthetic appeal to it. Like Pinterest DIY crafts, except Taehyung just doesn’t own any vases.
Jeongguk doesn’t exactly sleep, but he shuts down in some capacity, and that’s how Taehyung finds him in the bedroom, sprawled out across the sheets. Luna is squashed against his side, and her head pops up when he enters the room. She isn’t technically allowed on the bed, but in all honesty Taehyung is just impressed with the fact that she’s willing to cuddle with a demon. Then again, so is Taehyung.
He reaches the bedside and leans over to give Luna a kiss, only to be stopped before he can pull away by Jeongguk’s hand in his shirt. Taehyung ducks down and kisses him, too.
“D’you have fun?” Jeongguk mumbles against his lips.
“Yeah,” Taehyung says. “It’s really pretty out there.”
Jeongguk hums, toying with some of the strands of hair at Taehyung’s neck. “Not as pretty as you.”
“That would be more of a compliment if you weren’t practically blind.”
“I’ve seen you, Taehyung,” Jeongguk purrs.
Before either of them can get too worked up, Taehyung excuses himself to transfer the pictures he took from his camera’s memory card onto his laptop so that he can look for the best ones to use as art references. The day slips by inconsequentially. Taehyung breaks for lunch, heating up last night’s mac n’ cheese, only to be accosted for sex as he’s putting his dirty bowl into the dishwasher. Two satisfactory orgasms later, and Taehyung is back to work-slash-dicking-around-on-Youtube until the sun starts to dip and his tummy rumbles again. Jeongguk doesn’t rouse from the couch when Taehyung gets up, but when he opens the door to let Luna outside again, Jeongguk is suddenly at attention.
“Do you smell that?” he asks.
Taehyung furrows his brow, glancing back at him. “Smell what?”
“That…” Jeongguk kisses his teeth and makes a vague hand motion. “I don’t know how you call it. Musty.”
Sticking his head outside, Taehyung draws in a big breath. It does smell a little uncomfortably damp, like clothes that have been sitting in the washing machine for too long, but the humidity is high tonight. He’s just gotten used to it smelling weirdly gross outside every once in a while. Jeongguk should be used to it, too, considering he used to live in the swamp.
“Smells wet, but I wouldn’t say that’s out of the ordinary,” Taehyung says. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
Jeongguk doesn’t reply. He gets up and comes over to the door, pulling up one hand so that he can look around the backyard. The light is waning, but nothing unusual catches Taehyung’s attention. Still, Jeongguk’s lack of communication puts him on edge.
Finally, he says, “Bring Luna back inside. Open a window.”
“Jeongguk, it’s fucking humid—”
“Open a window.”
Taehyung’s voice breaks a little bit as he calls for Luna. She quits sniffing around in the grass and eagerly bounds back inside, blissfully unaware that anything is going on. He does as requested and opens the back window—the one Jeongguk used to look into. Now, however, he’s on the other side of the glass, staring out.
“You’re freaking me out,” Taehyung says nervously. “You wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?”
Jeongguk’s tongue flicks out, like he’s tasting the air. His lips peel back from his jagged teeth in a wry, crooked sneer. “We’re going to have a visitor tonight.”
Taehyung does not like the prospect of a visitor. Even though Jeongguk was also an unwanted visitor, and his presence has turned out to be fairly negligible in the grand scheme of things, Taehyung is not interested in hosting a paranormal orgy in his backyard. It doesn’t help that Jeongguk can’t, or won’t, give him any further information about this potential visitor.
“Something is coming this way,” is all he says before stationing himself at the window.
Okay. Great. And what the fuck is Taehyung supposed to do?
There isn’t anything to do, really. He turns on the television, cartoons, because he’s so goddamn anxious, but spends less time watching the screen and more staring out the window. Nothing seems to change as it gets darker, and the exterior light clicks on—Jeongguk’s doing—once the sun vanishes completely. What Taehyung does notice, finally, is the smell. His nose must not be as sensitive as Jeongguk’s, because what initially seemed like typical swamp musk has thickened to the point of being downright foul. Taehyung wishes they could close the window, but if the odor is an indication of their visitor’s presence, shutting it would be the dumb human move that gets them killed.
Spongebob manages to distract Taehyung for a little while. His eyelids are starting to get heavy when Jeongguk’s voice jolts him awake.
“Hey, Taehyung. You might want to put Luna in your room.”
Outside, a fog has rolled in. The entire backyard is covered in a blanket of cloudy white, but the weather conditions are absolutely incorrect for fog to occur. And if the mysterious fog isn’t enough, Jeongguk suddenly has horns. Not like goat horns, like demons are usually depicted with—these are much more like gnarled tree branches, or antlers. The hairs on Taehyung’s skin raise when Jeongguk twists his head to look at him; his eyes are totally white.
“Don’t be scared,” he says demurely. “I’m gonna take care of it.”
Taehyung stumbles off the couch and ushers Luna into the bedroom. Part of him wants to hide in there with her, but he’s very morbidly curious to find out what exactly it is that’s coming up to potentially burn the house down.
Plus… He’s gotten used to Jeongguk’s… eccentricities, but he’s never seen what one might call his true form. Trying to seduce random strangers in the woods for sex as some kind of bizarre-looking creature must be as easy as doing it a clown costume. Anyone in their right mind would run. So, it works towards Jeongguk’s benefit to have some kind of human form that he can use to lure in his prey, since a human is more likely to want to fuck another human as opposed to a swamp demon with blank eyeballs.
This, Taehyung realizes, with no little amount of trepidation, is what all that sex has been feeding.
Jeongguk stands up, seeming a little bigger than before, bulkier, more intimidating. Twin skeletal structures pierce through the back of his shirt at his shoulder blades and extend out in either direction—wingless wings. The final piece to the puzzle is a tail, bony and whiplike, with a green flame dancing like a tuft on the end. He’s magnificent and terrifying all in the same breath. One flick of his finger could probably shatter the window.
All of a sudden, Taehyung feels sick, like the floor is swimming. His vision warps for a moment, and then Jeongguk is gone. Vanished. No puff of smoke, no indication that he’d ever been standing in front of the window just a breath ago. Shakily, Taehyung approaches the window and peers out into the yard. The fog hasn’t lifted. Instead, it’s grown thicker, more dense, roiling like soup on a stove, but there’s no sign of wind. The leaves on the willow tree are eerily still.
Then, he sees it.
A light, at the edge of the woods.
Someone is there.
An inexplicable calm washes over him. It is a beautiful, enthralling light. White, yet blue, yet purple, yet green. This light is kind, gentle. It won’t hurt him. It won’t hurt him. And with that thought, the thought of safety belonging in the shine of that light, Taehyung moves to the door, opens it, and steps outside, into the soup of fog. Tendrils of mist curl around him, teasing his fingers, like the tiny fish that used to nibble on his fingertips when he stuck his hand into the lake off the edge of the dock at his uncle’s cottage. Halfway across the yard, he begins to be able to make out the shape of a figure holding the light. She is a woman, with long black hair, black robes, and a wide-brimmed hat. The light is contained in a lantern, hung on the end of a tall pole. And her eyes—her eyes are also light.
Beautiful, beautiful, so beautiful and light. He’ll be safe if he gets to her.
Safe? a tiny voice in the back of his mind wonders curiously. Safe from what?
Taehyung’s steps falter. Didn’t… Jeongguk say… not to be scared? Why would he need to flee to this woman for safety if he isn’t in danger?
The woman extends a hand, beckoning him. Safe, safe, safe, she’ll keep him safe—but Taehyung plants both feet firmly on the grass, refusing to move any further. He won’t. He will not go to her. Jeongguk will keep him safe. She’s the one that’s dangerous.
Green flames suddenly explode all around him.
Snapped out of what must’ve been hypnosis, Taehyung pitches himself to the ground to avoid the fire. It isn’t hot, more like electric, but it eats up the fog and catches on the edge of the woman’s robe. Flames rapidly envelope her, and the shriek she lets out is so shrill and high-pitched, Taehyung has to cover his ears to avoid feeling like his eardrums are going to burst. A heavy weight drops down behind him, prompting Taehyung to tear his eyes away from the burning woman.
Jeongguk. But not the Jeongguk he knows.
In the light, his appearance is perfectly visible. His skin his obsidian black, almost gritty, and his hands are massive with claws that could pierce straight through Taehyung’s stomach and pop out the other side. A single horn protrudes from the right side of his head, amongst the branchlike antlers, spiraling up in a corkscrew shape. The sides of his mouth have torn away to reveal razor sharp teeth that could rival the animatronics’ in Five Nights at Freddy’s. His tongue dangles freely, dripping wet with drool. His wings have grown some kind of skin between the spidery bones, transparent and dotted with black specks.
Taehyung also notices, with some kind of panic-induced hysteria, that his cock is hard as fuck, straining up against his stomach. But that’s totally besides the point.
Jeongguk lifts one giant hand to his face, palm outward, and opens his eye. The green iris is ablaze. For a brief moment, the eye fixes on Taehyung, and Jeongguk grins—possibly. His mouth is open so wide already, it’s hard to tell. But his cock twitches, and that seems to be indicative enough.
This is what Taehyung was afraid that Jeongguk was the first time they met through the window. A demon, a beast; a thing looking to crunch him between its teeth and make him its dinner. Jeongguk is more than simply a pleasure-seeking creature. Sex fuels a monster. If he’d seen Jeongguk like this that night, would he still have been willing to feed him?
Taehyung isn’t so sure.
They eye shifts its attention to the woman. Or, what’s left of the woman, Taehyung quickly realizes, as he turns back to look at her. The beauty was just a skinsuit, burned up by the fire like the fog, leaving her nothing but bones in a tattered dress. She screeches something at Jeongguk in a bizarrely guttural language, the mere sound of which sends an uncomfortable shiver down Taehyung’s spine. Jeongguk responds to her, voice almost too deep for Taehyung’s ears to pick up. It must be some kind of demon speech.
The conversation doesn’t last long. Jeongguk huffs out a greenish smoke and stalks towards her, stepping over Taehyung’s prone body in the process. The woman continues to make noise as he approaches, sounding more and more agitated, prompting Taehyung to pick up and haul ass back towards the house. Behind him, the light wavers wildly, and he glances back just in time to see the woman swinging her lantern at Jeongguk, but he’s faster. He moves so quickly, he looks like a flickering image. The lantern pole falls to the ground as he suddenly appears behind her and catches her around the throat and just—squeezes. Her neck shatters. Taehyung stares as her head and body separate, collapsing.
Holy fucking shit.
Green flames erupt from within her chest cavity, eating her bones from the inside out. Jeongguk leaves her to burn, collecting her lantern just to smash it on the ground. The glass shatters and the light goes out. With only the porch light for illumination, the backyard is considerably more dim. Taehyung can just barely make out Jeongguk’s shape as he lumbers back up in the direction of the house, tail flicking back and forth, back and forth.
Taehyung’s heart is beating so hard, he feels like it might dislodge from its arteries and work its way up his throat. Over and over, the woman’s head tumbling off her body like a decapitated doll runs through his mind. If Jeongguk could do that to her, he could easily do that to him.
Don’t be scared.
He’s trying—he’s really trying, but it’s so fucking hard.
It’s when Jeongguk is a few meters away that Taehyung can’t take it any longer. He collapses to his knees and fists his hands in the grass, struggling to control his breathing and not dissolve into hysterics. He feels like he’s seen Jeongguk like this before, during some kind of drug binge. But the demons couldn’t get him in the hallucinations, and Jeongguk is very, very real.
Real as he crouches down in front of Taehyung, head tilted curiously to one side. Drool dribbles off the tip of his tongue in a steady stream, smelling faintly of vanilla. A pleasant scent, bringing Taehyung back to lazy mornings in bed, rolling over and burying his cock into Jeongguk’s wet heat, fucking himself into a deeply satisfying orgasm, and totally at odds with Jeongguk’s current appearance. But the familiarity makes it easier for Taehyung to face him.
Jeongguk makes noise, deep and vibrating in the back of his throat. The words are unintelligible, making Taehyung wonder if he can’t speak English in this form.
“I-I know you said not to be scared,” Taehyung whispers, “but that was fucking terrifying.”
It takes every scrap of willpower not to flinch when Jeongguk reaches out to him. The hand goes to the top of his head, gently stroking his hair. A wash of relief ripples through Taehyung’s body, because it’s okay. Nothing bad will happen to him. Now he’s safe.
The world slips away.
Taehyung is lured to consciousness by the strangely enticing, bitter scent of coffee. Which strikes his groggy mind as odd, because he doesn’t remember making any coffee. The last thing he remembers is Jeongguk—oh God.
He bolts upright fast enough to make himself dizzy while sitting down, only to find himself on the couch and Jeongguk sitting cross-legged on the coffee table, back to his ordinary self. A mug of hot coffee is on the coaster beside him, tendrils of steam wafting into the air.
“Nice of you to join us,” Jeongguk says. “I was worried I’d have to blow you in your sleep again.”
That again catches Taehyung off-guard, but discussing the morality of Jeongguk taking advantage of him while he’s asleep is on the low end of his priority list at the moment. “What—What the fuck happened?”
Jeongguk grips the edge of the coffee table and leans a little closer. “You summoned a woodwitch. She wanted to take you back with her and probably use your eyeballs and fingernails for soup, but I told her to go fuck herself and snapped her head off. Therefore, seeing as we don’t have any kind of binding contract, I believe you owe me some reeeeaaally good sex. Like, fuck me ‘til my tummy’s bloated kinda sex. Can you cum that much? I can make you cum that much, but can you do it for me on your own?” He presses his palm flat against his stomach and groans. “Want you to fuck me full so baaad. Oh—and I made you coffee.”
To say that Taehyung is bewildered is an understatement. He blinks at Jeongguk a few times, struggling to process all of the information, and what he eventually squeaks out is, “You can work the coffeemaker?”
“I see you do it every morning. Do you not think I pay attention?”
“I-I don’t know,” he mutters. “You’re usually whining for sex.”
Jeongguk shrugs, crawling off the table and onto Taehyung’s lap, wrapping him up like an octopus. “I can multitask.”
As he has grown accustomed to, the feeling of Jeongguk’s weight over his cock sends a spark of arousal straight to his core. “You said… a woodwitch?” he inquires, gripping Jeongguk’s waist to encourage him to move his hips. Not much encouragement is necessary.
“Mmhm,” Jeongguk purrs. His lips find a nice spot to press wet kisses against the soft skin beneath Taehyung’s jaw. “They’re witches. They live in the woods. Pesky bitches. Wasteful. They’ll kill you just for your eyeballs.”
Taehyung shivers, not just from the way Jeongguk is grinding on him. “Wh-What do you mean, I summoned her?”
“You must’ve taken something of hers and brought it back up to the house. Mmm, fuck—love your cock, Taehyungie. Love it so much.”
“But I didn’t—” A jolt of realization makes Taehyung freeze. The flower, the blue one he brought back this morning. Shit. Dropping his head back against the couch, he groans in frustration. “You mean I can’t even pick fucking flowers anymore?”
Jeongguk titters unhelpfully. “You can pick whatever flowers you want. Just don’t pick woodwitch ones.”
“How am I supposed to know which ones those are?”
“Taehyung, you should be rearranging my insides right now,” Jeongguk whines. “We can talk about flowers later.”
As Jeongguk sinks down on him, tossing his head back with a loud, pleasured groan, Taehyung can’t help but wonder how much strength feeding gives him. Will there come a point when Jeongguk simply isn’t hungry anymore, and no longer has a use for Taehyung? That doesn’t feel like a realistic possibility, especially because Jeongguk is always hungry, but it could be a wicked trick of the mind, just like the woodwitch’s light. Taehyung doesn’t want to think of Jeongguk stringing him along like that, but he should, at very least, keep the possibility in mind.
Caring about that possibility is another matter entirely, however. Taehyung ruts up into Jeongguk’s wet heat, belly swirling with arousal. Every bounce makes Jeongguk’s cock slap against his abs, leaving a sticky smear on his skin from where the slit is leaking. Taehyung wraps a hand around it, sliding up and down, rubbing his thumb over the line of piercings along the length. When he doesn’t expect is for Jeongguk to suddenly hunch over with a sharp cry, hips stuttering, and dig his nails into Taehyung’s chest.
“Fuck, mmm—” Jeongguk thrusts into Taehyung’s hand a few times, cock drooling madly all over his arm. “F-Feels good. Feels so good—wanna cum, Taehyungie.”
Taehyung’s breath gets caught in his throat when Jeongguk squeezes particularly tight around him. “Th-Thought you s-said you couldn’t cum.”
The tip of Jeongguk’s tongue flicks out, running over his bottom lip and leaving it shiny. “Can’t,” he replies. “Can’t like this. H-Has to be—” His words falter when Taehyung rubs particularly hard over the piercing through the head of his cock. Roughness doesn’t bother Jeongguk at all—not when Taehyung pulls his hair or bites hard enough to break skin. There’s no way to choke him while fucking his mouth, no way to overstimulate him—just a perfect little fucktoy. “Has to be in my real body. Th-The one you s-saw.”
Of course—fuck, of course it would have to be that way. Taehyung’s cock throbs as he’s caught somewhere between terror and morbidly heightened arousal at the thought of having sex with Jeongguk in his demon form. Between his elongated teeth and nails and the size of his cock, it’s a deathwish, but God. Taehyung can’t help wanting to be able to pleasure him back, even if it means a two-handed handjob.
“B-Bet you cum so fuckin’ much,” Taehyung grunts, picturing it. He works his hand up and down Jeongguk’s cock, imagining the way it would throb and pulse in his grip right before releasing thick stream after stream of sticky seed all over Taehyung’s hand and his arm, getting his tummy all messy with it. Taehyung would milk him dry, lick over the sloppy head of his cock and suck it clean, then run his tongue down the length like a popsicle, catching the drips. By the time he’s finished, Jeongguk would be aching, teetering on the edge of orgasm, and Taehyung would bring him off just to do it all over again. Eyes rolling back in his head, Taehyung arches up and grinds his cock into Jeongguk.
“Could you take it all?” Jeongguk asks. “O-Or would you choke like a slut? Could you even fit my cock in you?”
Taehyung is not, and has never been, opposed to the idea of taking Jeongguk’s cock—it’s more the principle of the thing. The power dynamic. Taehyung’s phantom dominance versus Jeongguk’s willingness to be dominated. At any point, Jeongguk could simply decide he no longer wants to submit, and that would be the end of the discussion. But they both like things the way they are, so Jeongguk only whines and fusses when Taehyung pulls out and manhandles him for a position change. He scoots up to straddle Jeongguk’s chest, cockhead slapping against his chin. Jeongguk’s tongue slithers out to wrap around it.
He knots a hand in Jeongguk’s hair, fucking into his mouth ‘til his lips are flush with the base of his cock. A shiver wracks Taehyung’s body as Jeongguk’s tongue curls tight around him, pulsing and massaging him, teasing him closer and closer to the edge.
“Since you can’t cum, there’s no point in fucking your ass, is there?” Taehyung pants, working his hips in tiny aborted thrusts, trying to enjoy being cockwarmed despite Jeongguk’s impatience to bring him off. “This feels good enough for you, doesn’t it? Me cumming down the back of your throat?”
Jeongguk hums around him. He grips Taehyung’s thighs hard enough to leave bruises, nails pricking sharply against his skin. When Taehyung starts to pull out, he loosens his tongue enough to allow him to kick his hips forward and fuck back into the wet coil down the back of his throat.
Absolutely nothing can compare to the way Jeongguk’s mouth feels. “Shit, feels so good, baby,” Taehyung moans. He doesn’t restrain himself, because Jeongguk can’t choke. If it’s too hard to hold the pressure, he can just unhinge his jaw.
Jimin is good at giving head. One of the best, Taehyung would argue. His lips are fat and plush, and look delectable stretched around a cock, and he knows exactly how to work his tongue, but there’s no contest between human anatomy and Jeongguk’s.
“Best I’ve ever had,” Taehyung chokes out as orgasm hits, erratically pistoning his hips while Jeongguk swallows him down, swallows every last bit of cum he has to offer.
Jeongguk releases his cock with a wet pop! and nuzzles against its softening length affectionately. His eyes are soft and hazy with satisfaction. “I sure hope I am,” he says. Taehyung tracks the way his tongue flicks out to run over his bottom lip.
“You’d be a pretty disappointing sex demon if you weren’t,” Taehyung responds. “But I’ve always been of the opinion that Jimin is pretty hard to compete with when it comes to sex.”
As always, the mention of Jimin makes Jeongguk crinkle his nose. It’s a little cute, the way Jeongguk gets so jealous, but things would be much easier if the three of them could figure out how to get along. “But I’m better than him, right?”
“I would say that you have a considerable advantage against him, so comparing you isn’t really fair.”
“Who cares if it’s fair? You think I’m better.”
Taehyung scoots back far enough that he can lean down to kiss Jeongguk’s forehead. “I think Jimin and I aren’t together anymore, so it doesn’t matter.”
“He isn’t even here,” Jeongguk mutters. “Why are you so concerned about offending him?”
“Because I’m trying to be less bitter about everything. Plus, I know the first thing that will pop out of your mouth the next time you see him is Taehyung thinks I give better head than you, and that’s not a discussion I want to be having with my ex-boyfriend.”
Jeongguk’s nails dance down his thighs. “You mean you aren’t at all interested in making him jealous?”
“No.” Taehyung reaches over to retrieve the mug off the table and takes a sip. It isn’t very hot anymore, but it doesn’t taste bad. Jeongguk did pretty good, despite his vision struggles. Taehyung isn’t even sure he knows how to read. “What I’m more interested in is having you help me make some kind of nature field guide so that I don’t accidentally attract any more unsavory things to the house.”
“Oh, Taehyung. Taehyungie, Taehyung.” Sitting up, Jeongguk wraps his arms around Taehyung’s waist and gives him a squeezes. “As long as you’re here, unsavory things will always be attracted. That’s simply the burden of being human.”
A tiny pebble of dread plinks into the bottom of Taehyung’s stomach. The entire reason he moved out of the city was to get away from things that were hurting him, but it feels like he’s escaped one hellhole by jumping straight into another. Jeongguk lays a kiss against his jaw, idly fiddling with a nipple.
“I’ll protect you,” he murmurs. “No matter what it is, I’ll keep you safe.”
Even from yourself? Taehyung wants to ask, but he doesn’t.
He just trusts Jeongguk to keep his promise.