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Chapter Text

The air smells like soup and old cigarette smoke.

Gwi-Ma stirs, sore and half-wrapped in a rough towel that smells of detergent and stale water. The ceiling is cracked. The light flickers. His head throbs like he’s been exorcised with a baseball bat.

But it's not until he turns his head and sees him that everything goes still.

A man. Not young, not polished, not even glamorous by any means. Slouching in a worn t-shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and chopsticks in hand as he hums off-key to a TV ad. There's a healing cut on his lip. Hair messy. Eyes soft. But something about him had Gwi-ma burning.

It wasn’t visible, nor audible. But it was there. Gwi-Ma can taste it in the air.

Divine purity.

"...You." Gwi-Ma's voice rasps, more growl than speech.

The man jumps a little, dropping a noodle on his lap. "Oh, hey! You're awake!" he says brightly, like Gwi-Ma didn't just rise from the grave like a naked exorcised demon.

"Where… am I?" Gwi-Ma manages, voice scraping against his dry throat like gravel.

"My apartment. Don't worry, I cleaned you up." The man grins, his smile disarmingly genuine. "You were kinda covered in demon goop or something."

Gwi-Ma blinks, eyes narrowing to slits. "You... touched me?"

"Yeah. I mean, I used gloves for the gross parts."

"You washed me?"

"Yeah?"

A long, strange silence fills the room, heavy with something Gwi-Ma hasn't felt in centuries. Then:

"Are you trying to seduce me?"

The man blinks, chopsticks frozen halfway to his mouth. "...What?"

Gwi-Ma's tongue runs slowly over his own bottom lip, eyes dark and hungry. He's sitting up now, towel slipping dangerously low on his waist.

The man sets down his chopsticks, studying Gwi-Ma with those impossibly soft eyes. "Um, I don't know what kind of... situation you were in before, but you're safe now. My name's Gi-hun."

"Gi-hun." Gwi-Ma tests the name on his tongue like he's tasting wine. "Sweet."

Gi-hun stands, and that's when Gwi-Ma sees it properly—

The way light seems to cling to him. Not fluorescent apartment lighting, but something else. Something that makes Gwi-Ma's mouth water and his cock twitch beneath the thin towel.

Divine essence. Thick in the air, pouring off this ordinary man like honey from a broken jar.

Gwi-Ma's pupils dilate. His nostrils flare.

"You have no idea what you are, do you?" he murmurs, voice dropping to a dangerous purr.

Gi-hun tilts his head, confused. "I'm... unemployed?"

A laugh rumbles deep in Gwi-Ma's chest, dark and predatory. "You're a feast walking around in human skin."

"Okay, you're definitely still feverish." Gi-hun moves toward the kitchenette, and Gwi-Ma's eyes track every step. The way his hips move. The way the thin fabric of his pants clings just slightly to his thighs when he bends to retrieve something from a low cabinet.

"I should probably take you to a hospital," Gi-hun says over his shoulder, completely oblivious to the way Gwi-Ma's breathing has gone shallow. "You're talking like you're still hallucinating."

"I'm not hallucinating." Gwi-Ma's voice is rough silk. "I can smell you from here."

Gi-hun pauses, a can of soup halfway to the counter. "Smell me?"

"Like sunlight. Like..." Gwi-Ma's eyes flutter shut for a moment, inhaling deeply. "Like everything I've been starving for."

A flush creeps up Gi-hun's neck. "You're really sick, aren't you?"

"Sick with want."

Gi-hun's laugh is nervous, uncertain. "Okay, well... I'm going to make you some more soup. Then maybe we should talk about getting you some help."

Gwi-Ma watches him with predatory stillness, tracking every movement as Gi-hun turns back to the counter. The can opener whirs, and the scent of cheap chicken broth fills the small apartment. But beneath it—oh, beneath it—is that unmistakable aroma of divinity. It's making Gwi-Ma's skin prickle, his senses heighten.

And under those cheap pants? Gwi-Ma can already sense both heat and light pooled between his legs, like twin altars hidden in mortal flesh. He could feast forever and still hunger.

His cock twitches under the towel.

Gi-hun notices the glance, furrows his brow. "You still look feverish. You want some meds with your soup?"

"I want your thighs around my head."

Gi-hun frowns, stirring the pot with a wooden spoon. "Is that... a new slang?"

Gwi-Ma lets out a low, delighted laugh and drops his head back against the wall. "Oh, this is going to be swell."

—

The next morning, Gwi-Ma wakes to the sound of running water and soft humming.

The other futon next to his is empty, sheets still warm where Gi-hun had been sleeping. Through the thin walls, he can hear the shower running, and that voice, off-key and cheerful, singing what sounds like a commercial jingle.

Gwi-Ma sits up slowly, towel pooled around his waist, and immediately regrets it.

The scent hits him like a physical blow.

Steam. Soap. And underneath it all, that divine essence, now amplified by heat and water and the intimate ritual of cleansing. It pours under the bathroom door in waves, thick enough to taste.

His cock hardens instantly, straining against the thin terry cloth.

"Fuck," he breathes, running a hand through his hair.

The humming stops. Water shuts off.

The bathroom door cracks open, releasing a cloud of fragrant steam. Gi-hun steps out, hair dripping, a faded blue towel wrapped low around his hips. Droplets of water trace paths down his chest, catching the morning light filtering through dusty blinds.

Gwi-Ma goes utterly still, a predator scenting prey.

"Oh! You're up," Gi-hun says, cheerful and oblivious. "I wasn't sure if you'd sleep longer. You seemed pretty out of it yesterday."

Gwi-Ma doesn't answer. Can't. His eyes track a particularly bold water droplet as it slides down Gi-hun's collarbone, across his chest, disappearing beneath the towel's edge.

"I have some clothes that might fit you," Gi-hun continues, padding across the worn linoleum toward a small dresser. The movement of Gi-hun's hips as he walks draws Gwi-Ma's gaze like a magnet.

The towel clings damply to the curve of his ass, threatening to slip with each step. When he bends to pull open the bottom drawer, Gwi-Ma's nostrils flare at the fresh wave of the scent of clean skin and something underneath, something golden and ripe.

"They might be a little small," Gi-hun says, rifling through folded clothes, "but better than nothing, right?"

Gwi-Ma says nothing, just watches as water drips from Gi-hun's hair onto his shoulders, tracing glistening paths down his spine. The room feels too small suddenly, the air too thick. Unfortunately, Gi-hun hid his golden skin by pulling clothes over himself before turning towards him.

"Here," Gi-hun smiles, holding out a plain t-shirt and sweatpants. His smile falters when he sees Gwi-Ma's expression.

"What?" Gi-hun asks, suddenly self-conscious. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Gwi-Ma rises from the futon in one fluid motion, towel barely clinging to his hips. His eyes never leave Gi-hun's face.

"Do you have any idea," he says, voice low and dangerous, "what you're doing to me right now?"

The clothes hang forgotten in Gi-hun's hand. "I'm... offering you something to wear?"

"No." Gwi-Ma takes a step forward. "You're torturing me."

Gi-hun's brow furrows, that soft confusion making him even more devastating. "Torturing you? I'm trying to help—"

"You came in dripping wet," Gwi-Ma interrupts, taking another step closer. "Half-naked. Glowing like a fucking angel in my presence. And you smell..." He inhales deeply, eyes fluttering shut. "Christ, you smell like paradise."

"I smell like soap, and I just did this laundry," Gi-hun says weakly, self-consciously pulling at the hem of his shirt.

"You smell like temptation made flesh."

The space between them shrinks to nothing. Gwi-Ma can feel the heat radiating from Gi-hun's damp skin, can see the way his pulse flutters in his throat. That divine essence is so thick now it's making Gwi-Ma dizzy with want.

"Your fever must be getting worse." Gi-hun frowns, completely missing the hunger in Gwi-Ma's eyes. He reaches up, pressing the back of his hand to Gwi-Ma's forehead. "You're burning up."

Gwi-Ma freezes at the touch, a growl caught in his throat.

"Let's get you dressed," Gi-hun says, shaking out the t-shirt. "Arms up."

For a moment, Gwi-Ma just stares, incredulous. This divine creature is treating him like a child, completely oblivious to the way Gwi-Ma's entire body is straining toward him.

"Come on," Gi-hun insists, shaking the shirt with a patient smile, "you're shivering."

Gwi-Ma isn't shivering from cold, but Gi-hun doesn't seem to notice the hunger in his eyes, the tension coiled in every muscle of his body.

Regardless, something about his gentle insistence breaks through Gwi-Ma's haze. He lifts his arms mechanically, allowing Gi-hun to slip the soft cotton over his head. The fabric feels like sandpaper against Gwi-Ma's hypersensitive skin, but the domesticity of the gesture, of being dressed by these gentle hands, is somehow more intimate than if Gi-hun had dropped to his knees and taken him in his mouth.

"There," Gi-hun says, tugging the hem down over Gwi-Ma's taut stomach. "Now pants."

Gwi-Ma catches his wrist before he can reach for the sweatpants. "I can manage."

Their eyes lock. Gi-hun's pupils dilate slightly, a faint flush spreading across his cheeks. For a moment, Gwi-Ma thinks he might finally understand, might finally sense the hunger radiating between them.

But then Gi-hun just smiles, that innocent, oblivious smile. "Right—of course. Sorry." He steps back, handing over the sweatpants with an apologetic smile. "I'm treating you like a kid, which you definitely aren’t one."

Gwi-Ma takes the pants, fingers deliberately brushing against Gi-hun's. The brief contact sends a jolt through him that's almost painful.

"Is that what I am to you?" he asks, voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "A child?"

Gi-hun laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, no. Just... someone who needs help, I guess."

He turns away, giving Gwi-Ma a semblance of privacy to pull on the sweatpants. The towel drops. Gwi-Ma makes no effort to hide his arousal, but Gi-hun keeps his back turned, humming that same commercial jingle as he moves to the kitchenette and begins assembling ingredients for breakfast.

Gwi-Ma pulls on the sweatpants, fabric straining over his erection, and watches Gi-hun crack eggs into a bowl.

"You do this often?" Gwi-Ma asks, settling back onto the futon but keeping his eyes fixed on Gi-hun's profile.

"Make breakfast?" Gi-hun glances over his shoulder. "When I can afford eggs, yeah."

"Rescue strangers."

Gi-hun's hand stills on the spatula for a moment. "Not... regularly. But you looked like you needed help."

"And you always help things that need it?"

"When I can," Gi-hun says simply, turning back to the pan. The eggs sizzle as they hit the hot surface. "My mom always said you never know when you might be entertaining angels."

Gwi-Ma's laugh is dark, bitter. "Angels. Right."

"What's so funny about that?"

"Nothing," Gwi-Ma murmurs, but his eyes glitter with something dangerous. "Just ironic, considering what I am."

Gi-hun glances back at him, spatula poised over the eggs. "What you are?"

"Forget it." Gwi-Ma waves a hand dismissively, but the predatory gleam never leaves his eyes. "Tell me about yourself, Gi-hun. What do you do when you're not rescuing mysterious strangers from alleyways?"

"Not much," Gi-hun admits with a self-deprecating laugh. "Odd jobs. Betting on horses when I have cash. Trying to keep the landlord from kicking me out." He slides the eggs onto two mismatched plates. "Not exactly living the dream."

Gwi-Ma watches him move, the way light seems to bend around his form. There's something unbearably tender in how Gi-hun handles the chipped plates, like he's serving a feast instead of cheap eggs.

"And what about you?" Gi-hun asks, setting a plate in front of Gwi-Ma. Their fingers brush—accidental, fleeting—and Gwi-Ma has to stifle a groan. "What do you do when you're not... being found in alleys?"

Gwi-Ma's lips curl into something not quite a smile. "I hunt."

Gi-hun pauses with a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. "Hunt? Like... animals?"

"Something like that." Gwi-Ma's eyes never leave Gi-hun's face as he takes a bite of his own eggs. The food tastes like ash compared to the feast sitting across from him.

"Huh. Wouldn't have pegged you for the outdoorsy type." Gi-hun chews thoughtfully. "Though I guess that explains the... um... physique."

Gwi-Ma arches an eyebrow. "You noticed my physique?"

"Hard not to," Gi-hun mumbles, suddenly very interested in his plate. A flush creeps up his neck, spreading to his ears. "You're kind of... built."

The compliment, innocent as it is, sends a surge of heat straight to Gwi-Ma's groin. He shifts slightly, trying to ease the pressure building there.

"You like what you see?" The words slip out before he can stop them, voice rough with barely contained desire.

Gi-hun's fork clatters against his plate. "I—that's not—I mean—"

"Relax," Gwi-Ma says, though his eyes are anything but relaxed. They're dark, predatory, tracking every micro-expression on Gi-hun's flushed face. "I'm just teasing."

But he's not. Every fiber of his being is focused on the man across from him, on the way Gi-hun's scent grows sweeter when he's embarrassed, on the rapid flutter of his pulse visible in his throat.

Gi-hun clears his throat and takes another bite, clearly trying to regain his composure. "So, um, what kind of hunting do you do?" Gi-hun asks, desperate to change the subject.

Gwi-Ma watches him squirm, savoring the discomfort like fine wine.

"Souls," Gwi-Ma says simply, watching for Gi-hun's reaction. "I hunt souls."

Gi-hun laughs, a bright sound that fills the tiny apartment. "Right. And I'm secretly a billionaire living in this dump for fun."

"You think I'm joking."

"I think you're still delirious," Gi-hun says, pointing his fork at Gwi-Ma. "Or maybe you hit your head pretty hard. We should really get you checked out."

Gwi-Ma leans forward, elbows on the table, eyes never leaving Gi-hun's face. "What if I proved it to you?"

"What, that you hunt souls?" Gi-hun snorts. "Sure, go ahead."

The air shifts. The light in the room dims slightly, as if something is absorbing it. Gwi-Ma's eyes begin to glow—not metaphorically, but literally—a deep crimson that bathes Gi-hun's face in blood-colored light. His skin ripples, shadows moving beneath the surface like something trying to break free.

When he opens his mouth, his teeth have elongated into needle-sharp points, and his voice reverberates with otherworldly harmonics.

"I am Gwi-Ma, King of the Underworld, Lord of the Demons. I have consumed the souls of kings and prophets, and I will—"

"Oh, you're a demon," Gi-hun says, nodding casually. He takes another bite of eggs. "That explains the goop."

Gwi-Ma's transformation stutters to a halt. The crimson light in Gwi-Ma's eyes flickers like a faulty bulb. His teeth retract with an audible snap. The shadows beneath his skin settle, confused.

"What?" he growls, voice still carrying echoes of the underworld.

Gi-hun reaches across the table and pats Gwi-Ma's shoulder with genuine warmth. "I'll make spicier food then. Demons like spicy, right? Should've guessed from the whole..." he waves his hand vaguely at Gwi-Ma's face, "red-eye situation."

Gwi-Ma stares, utterly dumbfounded. "You're not... afraid?"

"Of what?" Gi-hun asks, already standing to rummage through his meager spice cabinet. "Oh, I have some gochujang. That should help."

"I just revealed my true demonic form to you," Gwi-Ma snarls, shadows still flickering beneath his skin. "I just told you I consume souls. I am literally transforming into a creature of hell before your eyes."

Gi-hun shrugs, squinting at the expiration date on a bottle of hot sauce. "Yeah, I figured something was up when I found you. Normal people don't usually have sulfur coming out of their pores." He glances up with a good-natured smile. "Is this still good if it's a little separated? I can shake it."

Gwi-Ma's jaw hangs open.

At the lack of fear, Gwi-Ma deflates, demonic energy receding like a wave pulled back to sea. The shadows beneath his skin settle. His eyes dim from crimson to a more human brown, though flecks of red still dance in his irises.

"Fine," he mutters, dropping back into his chair with a thud that makes the rickety table legs wobble. "Give me the fucking spicy eggs."

Gi-hun beams, liberally dousing Gwi-Ma's plate with gochujang and hot sauce before sliding it back across the table. He took a bite with all the frustration of a demon king scorned.

Fucking shit. It was fucking delicious.

—

Three weeks later, Gwi-Ma lounges on the futon that's somehow become his, scrolling on Gi-hun's cracked phone screen while the television drones in the background. The apartment no longer feels foreign for him. His clothes mingle with Gi-hun's in the tiny dresser, his toothbrush stands beside Gi-hun's in a chipped mug, and his favorite spicy ramen fills half a kitchen cabinet.

He's settled in like he's always been here.

"I'm home!" Gi-hun calls, the door swinging open with a familiar creak. He juggles grocery bags, cheeks flushed from the spring air outside. "Got those peppers you like."

Gwi-Ma grunts in acknowledgment but doesn't look up from the phone—until Gi-hun drops the bags on the counter with a clatter and makes a soft, strange sound.

Gwi-Ma's head snaps up, nostrils flaring.

The scent hits him like a sledgehammer to the chest. Sweet. Thick. Impossible.

Gi-hun stands by the counter, one hand pressed to his forehead. His skin is flushed, a light sheen of sweat making his t-shirt cling to his collarbones. The air around him seems to shimmer, barely perceptible but unmistakable to Gwi-Ma's heightened senses.

"Are you feeling okay?" Gwi-Ma asks, voice carefully neutral even as his body goes rigid with awareness.

"I'm just... really hot suddenly," Gi-hun mumbles, tugging at his collar. "Must be coming down with something." He yanks at his shirt collar, fanning himself. "Is it hot in here to you?"

Gwi-Ma slowly rises from the futon, every muscle in his body tense. The scent coming off Gi-hun is intoxicating, like honey mixed with starlight, thickening the air between them.

"No," Gwi-Ma says carefully. "It's not hot."

Gi-hun frowns, abandoning the groceries to pace the small apartment. "That's weird. I feel like I'm burning up." He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in damp spikes. "And my skin feels... I don't know. Tight? Sensitive?"

Gwi-Ma tracks his movements with predatory focus. The way Gi-hun's thighs rub together as he walks. The way he keeps shifting his hips like he can't get comfortable. The faint shimmer in the air around him grows stronger, a barely-there golden aura clinging to his skin.

"Maybe I should take a cold shower," Gi-hun mutters, pressing the back of his hand to his own forehead. "I feel feverish."

Gwi-Ma remains perfectly still, watching as Gi-hun makes his way to the bathroom, stumbling slightly as if dizzy. The bathroom door closes, and moments later, the shower turns on.

But even with the door closed, that scent lingers, growing stronger, sweeter, more complex. Gwi-Ma's cock stirs, hardening painfully in his borrowed sweatpants. He knows exactly what's happening, even if Gi-hun doesn't.

A celestial pre-heat.

Gwi-Ma paces the small living room, trying to distract himself from the maddening scent. It's pointless. Every atom of his being is tuned to the divine creature currently standing under cold water, unaware of what's happening to his body.

The shower runs for nearly fifteen minutes before the water shuts off. There's a long pause, then a soft "What the hell?" from behind the door.

Gwi-Ma freezes, every muscle tense.

The bathroom door opens slowly, releasing a cloud of steam that carries that intoxicating scent throughout the apartment. Gi-hun stands in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist, staring down at himself with confusion.

"I think something's wrong with me," he says, voice strained.

Gwi-Ma's eyes follow Gi-hun's gaze to the towel, where a small but unmistakable wet spot is forming at the front.

"I don't understand," Gi-hun says, voice tight with confusion. He shifts the towel, revealing a glistening trail down his inner thigh. "I'm clean, but I keep... leaking?"

Gwi-Ma's nostrils flare. The scent is overwhelming now; divine essence mixed with something primal, sweet, and unmistakably aroused.

"Gi-hun," he says carefully, voice rough with restraint. "When did this start?"

"Just now, in the shower." Gi-hun's brow furrows. "I thought maybe it was sweat, but it's... sticky? And it's coming from..." He gestures vaguely at his groin, cheeks flushing deeper. "I've never had anything like this before."

Gwi-Ma takes a step closer, then another, drawn to that scent like a shark to blood. But before he can reach Gi-hun, the man's eyes widen with sudden realization.

"Oh god," Gi-hun mutters, hands flying to his crotch over the towel. "I think I have a urinary tract infection."

Gwi-Ma stops dead in his tracks. "A what?"

"A UTI! My co-worker had one once." Gi-hun's face crumples with worry. "The burning sensation, the constant feeling of needing to pee, the... leaking." He gestures frantically at the wet spot on his towel. "That has to be it! I need cranberry juice. Do we have cranberry juice?"

Gwi-Ma stares at him, utterly dumbfounded. "You don't have a UTI," Gwi-Ma says, voice strained to the breaking point.

"How do you know?" Gi-hun's fingers fidget with the edge of the towel. "I mean, it has to be something medical, right?"

He looks so genuinely distressed that Gwi-Ma almost—almost—feels a pang of sympathy beneath his raging arousal.

"Can you just... look?" Gi-hun asks suddenly, desperation overtaking embarrassment. "Maybe it's obvious what's wrong."

Before Gwi-Ma can answer, Gi-hun opens the towel with trembling hands, revealing himself fully.

"Does this look infected to you?"

Gwi-Ma's world stops spinning.

Between Gi-hun's legs is not just a cock—small and pretty, flushed and dripping—but beneath it, nestled in a patch of somewhat trimmed hair, a glistening, perfect pussy that was puffy, pink, and dripping with slick that shimmers faintly iridescently in the bathroom light.

"FUCK," Gwi-Ma snarls, stumbling backward like he's been physically struck. His cock instantly strains against his sweatpants, so hard it's painful, a damp spot forming where the head presses against the fabric.

Gi-hun stands there, towel held open, completely exposed and utterly vulnerable. The divine slick trickles down his inner thighs in shining golden rivulets, his small cock twitching and leaking clear fluid from the tip. His pussy lips are swollen, flushed, parting slightly with each breath he takes.

"Is it bad?" Gi-hun asks, voice small and worried. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Gwi-Ma's jaw clenches so hard he might shatter his teeth. His pupils dilate to black pools rimmed with crimson as the scent hits him full force; divine slick, pure and intoxicating, pouring from Gi-hun's exposed body.

"Something's wrong with me," Gi-hun whispers, looking down at himself with confusion. "I've never been this wet before. And it won't stop coming out."

As if to demonstrate, another trickle of golden slick slides from his pussy, dripping onto the bathroom tile with a soft patter. Gwi-Ma was so close to crawling on the goddamned floor to just lick it up.

"Holy fucking shit," Gwi-Ma growls, voice barely human as he covers his nose and mouth with his veiny hand. His cock throbs violently in his sweatpants, a dark stain spreading where precum soaks through the thin fabric.

Gi-hun's eyes well with tears, confusion and embarrassment overwhelming him. He clutches the towel closed with shaking hands.

"Something's really wrong with me," he whispers, voice cracking. "I'm going to call my doctor—"

He turns abruptly, stumbling toward his futon where his phone sits from where Gwi-ma was using it before. Panic drives him forward, golden droplets marking his path across the floor.

Gwi-Ma moves with inhuman speed, suddenly blocking the way. His eyes glow crimson, shadows writhing beneath his skin.

"No doctor," he growls, voice resonating with demonic power. "They can’t help you."

Gi-hun freezes, tears spilling down his flushed cheeks. "But I'm—I'm leaking everywhere. I'm burning up. This isn't normal!"

"It's perfectly normal for what you are," Gwi-Ma continues, voice dropping to a rumble.

Gi-hun stares at him, clutching the towel tighter. "What I am? What are you talking about?"

"You're part celestial," Gwi-Ma says, stepping closer. The scent is driving him mad, his cock throbbing painfully against his sweatpants. "Divine. Angel-blooded. And you're in heat."

Gi-hun blinks, tears still clinging to his lashes. "I'm... what?"

"Celestial. Half-angel, at least."

A beat of silence. Then:

"Oh. That."

Gwi-Ma freezes. "What do you mean ‘that’? You knew?"

Gi-hun shrugs, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I mean, yeah.”

Gwi-Ma's jaw drops. "You knew you were part celestial and you didn't think to mention it? While living with a demon?"

Gi-hun scratches the back of his neck, looking more annoyed than concerned despite the golden slick still trickling down his thighs. "I mean, it's not like it ever mattered before. My mom mentioned something about angels when I was a kid, but..." He shrugs. "What was I supposed to do with that information? Get better lottery numbers? The angel part never paid my rent."

"But you're—" Gwi-Ma gestures frantically at Gi-hun's lower half, where the towel is now soaked through. "You're in heat. Your divine essence is practically pouring out of you."

Gi-hun grimaces, shifting uncomfortably. "God, that's what this is? Heat?" Gi-hun repeats, shifting uncomfortably as more divine slick trickles down his thighs. "Like a cat or something? That's ridiculous. I’m so old. I'm probably just sick."

"You're not sick," Gwi-Ma growls, nostrils flaring as he inhales the intoxicating scent. "You're fertile. Ready to be bred. It's a celestial cycle."

Gi-hun rolls his eyes despite the trembling in his legs. "Great. Another celestial thing to deal with. Like the weird dreams weren't enough. Well, at least I don’t have to buy antibiotics." He adjusts his soaked towel, wincing. "So what am I supposed to do? Wait it out?"

"I can help you," Gwi-Ma says, voice dropping to a dangerous purr. His eyes flicker crimson, shadows dancing beneath his skin.

"Help me?" Gi-hun echoes, eyebrows raised. He glances down at his leaking body, then back at Gwi-Ma skeptically. "What, you know some demon trick to stop it? Like a celestial tampon or something?"

"No," Gwi-Ma growls, voice dropping to a dangerous register. "I need to fuck you."

Gi-hun blinks. "Oh."

A beat of silence stretches between them, broken only by the soft patter of divine slick hitting the floor.

"That's what I… need?" Gi-hun asks, sounding curious and just a bit scandalized as he slowly closes his towel over his leaking privates. "Sex?"

"Yes," Gwi-Ma snarls, shadows dancing beneath his skin as his control slips further. "Celestial heat needs to be sated."

Gi-hun considers this, head tilted, as if Gwi-Ma has just suggested they try a new takeout place rather than proposing to fuck divinity out of him.

"Huh. Well, that’s actually less complicated than I thought." He shifts again, wincing as his sensitive cock brushes against the wet towel. "But, why would you even want to?” Gi-hun asks bashfully, his eyes dropping to the floor where golden slick continues to pool around his feet. "I mean, I don't want to be a burden or anything. This is my celestial problem, not yours. I could probably just, I don't know, take a really cold shower or something."

Gwi-Ma stares at him in utter disbelief, jaw hanging open. The shadows beneath his skin ripple violently as his control slips further.

"Why would I want to—" He breaks off with a strangled laugh.

In one fluid motion, he yanks down his sweatpants, revealing his massive cock, thick, veined, and so hard it curves up against his stomach, the head flushed dark and already dripping with precum.

"Do you see this?" Gwi-Ma growls, gesturing to his throbbing erection. "Do you see how fucking hard this cock is for you? I've been in agony for weeks, smelling you, wanting you, and now you're literally dripping divine essence all over the floor and asking if I want to help?"

Gi-hun's eyes widen as he stares at Gwi-Ma's massive length, his own small cock twitching visibly beneath the soaked towel.

"Oh," he says softly, cheeks flushing deeper. "That's... um... impressive."

"I've been dreaming about devouring you since the moment I woke up on your futon," Gwi-Ma continues, taking a step closer. "I've been jerking off in the shower every morning just to keep from pinning you against the wall."

Gi-hun's eyes travel from Gwi-Ma's face to his cock and back again. He shifts his weight, another trickle of golden slick sliding down his thigh.

"So you... actually want to?" he asks, sounding genuinely surprised. "Help me with this whole celestial heat thing?"

Gwi-Ma makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a growl, shadows rippling beneath his skin as he stalks closer. Is he being an idiot on purpose to test me? This must be my karmic retribution.

He reaches out, tracing one finger through the golden slick on Gi-hun's thigh. The touch makes Gi-hun flinch and gasp, his small cock twitching visibly beneath the soaked towel. Gwi-Ma brings his finger to his mouth, tasting the golden slick. His eyes roll back, a guttural moan escaping his throat.

"Sweet fucking heaven," he growls, pupils blown wide, crimson overtaking the whites of his eyes.

Gi-hun shifts nervously, divine slick pooling at his feet. "So... um... if you want to help, then yes. I don't want to impose—"

That's it. That's fucking it.

Gwi-Ma lunges forward with inhuman speed, towering over Gi-hun. In one fluid motion, he scoops him up, divine slick dripping between his fingers as he grips those soft thighs.

"Enough talking," he snarls, tossing the towel aside.

Three strides and he throws Gi-hun onto the futon, the floor creaking under the sudden weight. The towel falls away completely, exposing Gi-hun's slick-covered thighs and glistening pussy.

"Wait, the towel—" Gi-hun starts, still worrying about useless things despite the golden essence literally dripping from between his legs.

"I'm done waiting," Gwi-Ma growls, positioning himself between those trembling thighs. His massive cock juts forward, angry and swollen, the head already glistening with precum. "You've been torturing me for weeks."

In one brutal thrust, he drives himself into Gi-hun's soaked cunt, stretching him impossibly wide, too impatient to see if he needed to be prepared first. Gi-hun was part celestial, he could take it, Gwi-ma reasoned to himself.

Gi-hun screams, back arching off the futon, eyes flying open in shock. "AH!—OW—too big!—"

Gwi-Ma's cock plunges deep, forcing Gi-hun's divine cunt to stretch obscenely around its monstrous girth. The wet, golden slick makes filthy squelching sounds as he pulls back (no blood, Gwi-ma knew Gi-hun could take it) and slams forward again with a primal strength that shakes the entire futon.

"AAAHHH!" Gi-hun wails, fingers clawing at the sheets. His body convulses around the massive intrusion, divine pussy fluttering and gripping like it was made for this violation. "Too—soon—can't—"

"You can," Gwi-Ma snarls, hips pistoning with demonic force. "You fucking will."

Each brutal thrust forces more golden essence to gush around his shaft, splashing onto the futon with wet, obscene sounds. Slap, slop, squelch—the apartment fills with a symphony of filth as Gwi-Ma drives into him relentlessly. His massive cock stretches Gi-hun's divine pussy to its limits, the tight pink folds clinging desperately to his shaft with each withdrawal only to be brutally spread wide again.

"Fuck, so tight—" Gwi-Ma growls, his hips snapping forward with inhuman force. The wet sounds between them grow louder, more obscene, as divine essence splashes with each impact. "Taking my cock so well—"

Gi-hun's eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent scream as the enormous intrusion reshapes his insides. His small cock bounces against his belly, untouched but leaking steadily with each punishing thrust.

"Can't—can't—too much—!" he babbles, legs trembling uncontrollably as they spread wider to accommodate the demonic intrusion.

Gwi-Ma grips Gi-hun's hips hard enough to bruise, lifting them slightly off the futon for a better angle. The new position lets him drive even deeper, his cock stretching Gi-hun's divine cunt to impossible depths and widths, the tight pink flesh stretching desperately around his girth.

"AHN!" Gi-hun's entire body convulses as Gwi-Ma's next thrust hits something deep inside him, something that makes stars explode behind his eyelids.

"There it is," Gwi-Ma growls, aiming for that spot again and again, his hips working like a piston. The sounds between them grow wetter, filthier, squelching each time he pushes in.

"Hhhnn, Gw—hah, Gwi-ma!—!" Gi-hun screams, voice breaking as Gwi-Ma's massive cock plunges inside of him, bulging his lower belly with each deep thrust. His feet bounce in the air from the force of Gwi-ma’s thrusts, legs spread obscenely wide as they dangle over Gwi-Ma's arms.

Gwi-Ma is lost to sensation, his eyes blazing crimson, shadows writhing beneath his skin as he pounds into that heavenly cunt with demonic fury. The slick golden essence sprays around his cock with each thrust, coating his thighs, the futon, everything in divine nectar.

"C-cumming!" Gi-hun wails suddenly, his small cock spurting untouched, ribbons of pearlescent, glowing fluid arcing onto his stomach as his divine pussy clenches violently around Gwi-Ma's shaft.

The moment Gi-hun's orgasm hits, Gwi-Ma feels it: a surge of pure celestial energy flooding his system like liquid lightning. His eyes flare brighter, his entire body shuddering as he absorbs the divine essence.

"Fuck!" Gwi-Ma roars, momentarily stunned by the intensity of the divine energy flooding his system. It's like nothing he's ever tasted. Pure, raw power surge through his veins, making his skin glow from within with unholy light.

"More," he snarls, fangs elongating as his control slips further, his neck rolling as he looks down at Gi-hun with eyes glowing with hunger for the addictive taste. "Give me more."

He pistons into Gi-hun with renewed ferocity, the futon skidding across the floor with each savage thrust. Divine slick sprays between them, glittering, golden droplets splattering across the walls, the ceiling, everywhere, like painting the room with stars.

"C-can't—too s-sensitive—" Gi-hun babbles, eyes unfocused, drool slipping from the corner of his mouth as his body convulses around the massive intrusion.

Gwi-Ma ignores his pleas, adjusting his grip to spread Gi-hun's thighs even wider, exposing that dripping, divine cunt completely. He hammers in deeper, harder, the wet squelching sounds growing obscene as golden slick gushes with each thrust.

"You're a fucking feast," Gwi-Ma growls, head thrown back in ecstasy as another wave of celestial energy floods his system. "Every drop of you is ambrosia."

Gi-hun's eyes roll back, his small cock already hardening again despite just cumming. "T-too much—can't take—ahhh!"

His protest dissolves into a scream as Gwi-Ma hits that spot again, driving into him with demonic strength. The floor creaks dangerously beneath the futon, the wooden panels protesting the savage rhythm. How unfortunate for their downstairs neighbors…

"You can take it," Gwi-Ma snarls, his voice deepening to something ancient and hungry. "Your body was made for this."

Gi-hun's back arches off the futon as Gwi-Ma slams into him again, the impact sending divine slick spraying between them. His small cock bounces against his stomach, leaking continuously now as Gwi-Ma's monstrous girth plundered him.

Gwi-ma growls, feral and unhinged, grabbing Gi-hun's trembling thighs and flipping him over in one brutal motion, never withdrawing his cock from that tight, slick heat.

"On your knees," he snarls, yanking Gi-hun's hips up while his face stays pressed into the mattress. The new angle lets Gwi-Ma drive even deeper, his cock stretching Gi-hun's cunt to obscene proportions.

"Mmph—!" Gi-hun's scream is muffled by the sheets, his fingers clawing desperately for purchase as Gwi-Ma pounds into him from behind. Golden slick gushes down his thighs with each brutal thrust, pooling beneath them on the already soaked futon.

Gwi-Ma's eyes glow with unholy light as he feeds on the divine energy pouring from Gi-hun's core. Every drop is like concentrated ecstasy, burning through his system like sacred fire. His movements grow more frenzied, more desperate, as he chases that celestial high.

“So fucking good," he growls, gripping Gi-hun's hips hard enough to bruise. "Need more."

Gi-hun sobs into the mattress, his entire body shaking as Gwi-Ma rails into him with demonic force. His divine pussy is stretched beyond reason, golden slick gushing out with each punishing thrust.

"Please—too much—can't—" Gi-hun babbles, voice breaking as another orgasm builds deep in his core.

Gwi-Ma feels it coming, getting excited at the way Gi-hun's inner walls flutter and clench, the way his small cock twitches and leaks beneath him. He growls, driving in harder, faster, chasing that celestial high.

"Give it to me," he demands, voice taking on a demonic quality. "Feed me again."

Gi-hun screams, back arching violently as his third orgasm hits like divine lightning, his entire body convulsing as golden slick fountains around Gwi-Ma's cock, spraying across the futon in glittering arcs. His small cocklet spurts weakly, untouched, as his pussy clenches in violent spasms.

"Haaah—fu-uck, yes," Gwi-Ma moans, his head thrown back as the celestial essence floods his system. It's like mainlining starlight as pure, concentrated divinity pours directly into his demonic core. His skin glows from within, veins illuminated with stolen holiness as he absorbs every drop.

The high is fucking addictive. Gwi-Ma's pupils blow wide, crimson bleeding across his sclera as divine energy courses through him like liquid ecstasy. He’ll never be able to stop, never not crave this feeling now that he’s tasted it.

"So good," he slurs, movements becoming wilder, less controlled as he plops over Gi-hun’s back, strong arms wrapping around his. squirming mate.

"More—give me more—" Gwi-Ma snarls, his movements turning savage as the divine essence overloads his system like a drug. His eyes glow brighter, shadows beneath his skin writhing with newfound power as he slams into Gi-hun's dripping cunt with brutal force.

The futon slides across the floor with each thrust, scraping against wood. Gi-hun's face is pressed into the mattress, drool soaking the sheets as he wails incoherently, completely overwhelmed by the relentless pounding.

"Please—no more—ah-AH—!" His protests dissolve into screams as Gwi-Ma grips him harder, angling to hit that spot that makes Gi-hun's vision white out.

"You taste like fucking heaven," Gwi-Ma growls, drunk on celestial essence. His hips stutter, rhythm faltering as the divine energy courses through him. "Like nothing I've ever—fuck—"

The base of his cock begins to swell, catching on Gi-hun's stretched rim with each thrust. Gi-hun feels the growing pressure, the impossible width, and his eyes fly open in panic.

"W-what is that?" he gasps, trying to squirm away. "Something's—something's happening—"

Gwi-Ma pins him with demonic strength, strong arms bulging to keep his mate under him and in perfect position to take his knot as he licks up the sweet and salty sweat from his neck.

"My knot," he snarls, voice barely human. "Gonna lock you up. Keep all my cum inside you where it belongs."

"K-knot?" Gi-hun's voice cracks, trembling as he feels the swelling base of Gwi-Ma's cock stretching him wider with each thrust. "Like a dog? You're—you're—"

"I'm going to breed you," Gwi-Ma growls, shadows dancing beneath his skin as he drives forward. The knot catches on Gi-hun's rim, tugging painfully before popping back out with a wet squelch. "Fill you so full you'll glow with it."

Gi-hun's protests dissolve into a keening wail as the knot pushes against his entrance again, stretching him beyond what should be possible. His divine pussy flutters, clenching and releasing as if trying to decide whether to fight or yield.

"Can't, it’s too big—won't fit—" Gi-hun babbles, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks, divine slick gushing from his abused hole with every savage thrust.

"It will fit," Gwi-Ma snarls, voice distorted with lust and power. "You were made for this."

With one brutal thrust, he forces the swelling knot past Gi-hun's stretched rim. There's a moment of impossible pressure, a flash of pain—then a wet, obscene pop as it locks inside.

Gi-hun screams, his entire body convulsing as the knot stretches him beyond reason. His small cock spurts weakly, another orgasm ripping through him as the massive intrusion presses against every sensitive spot inside him at once.

Gwi-Ma roars, head thrown back as Gi-hun's divine pussy spasms around his knot, milking him with heavenly contractions. The pressure is unbearable, exquisite, while celestial essence floods his system as his own orgasm tears through him like hellfire.

"Taking it so good," he growls, grinding his hips in tight circles, the knot tugging painfully at Gi-hun's stretched rim. "Gonna fill you up—mark you—claim you—"

His cock pulses, the first jet of demonic seed erupting deep inside Gi-hun's core. It's scalding, thick, unnatural in its volume, and it keeps coming, pulse after pulse, flooding Gi-hun's divine channel until there's nowhere for it to go.

Gi-hun whimpers, eyes wide as he feels his belly distending, swelling with each thick pulse of demonic cum. The knot seals him completely, trapping every drop inside as Gwi-Ma empties himself with guttural moans.

"F-full," Gi-hun gasps, one trembling hand moving to his rounded belly. "So full, I can feel it…"

Gwi-Ma collapses over him, breathing hard, his cock still twitching inside that divine heat. The knot throbs, locking them together as aftershocks ripple through both their bodies.

"Perfect," he pants against Gi-hun's neck, tongue darting out to taste the salt and celestial essence coating his skin. "My perfect little mate."

Gi-hun whimpers softly, overwhelmed by the fullness, the stretch, the way Gwi-Ma's seed seems to pulse with dark energy inside him. His small cock gives one final twitch before going soft against his distended belly, spent and oversensitive.

They lie there panting, locked together by the swollen knot, divine slick and demonic seed creating a puddle beneath them on the ruined futon. Gwi-Ma's eyes slowly fade from blazing crimson back to their usual brown, though flecks of stolen divinity still dance in his irises.

"H-How long does this last?" Gi-hun asks weakly, voice muffled by the mattress. He shifts slightly and winces at the knot still impossibly thick inside him, stretching him wide, keeping every drop of Gwi-Ma's cum sealed inside his swollen belly.

"Twenty minutes. Maybe thirty." Gwi-Ma nuzzles into the crook of his neck, surprisingly gentle now that the feral hunger has been temporarily sated. "Depends on how well you take to my seed."

Gi-hun makes a soft sound of distress, trying to shift his weight. The movement makes him wince as the knot tugs at his stretched rim, and he can feel the demonic cum sloshing heavily in his distended belly.

"This is so weird," he mumbles into the futon. "My stomach feels like I swallowed a water balloon."

Gwi-Ma chuckles darkly, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to the back of Gi-hun's neck. "You'll get used to it. The celestial heat will make you crave it soon enough."

"Crave it?" Gi-hun's voice pitches higher. "You mean this is going to happen again?"

"Oh, sweetheart," Gwi-Ma purrs, his cock giving a lazy twitch inside Gi-hun's stuffed channel. “We're just getting started."

—

A few days later, the apartment smells like sizzling bacon and sex.

Gi-hun groans awake, body aching in places he didn't know could ache. The sheets are damp beneath him—again—and his thighs are sticky with dried golden slick. His small cock lies soft against his belly, tender and overused, while his divine pussy throbs with pleasant soreness, still slightly puffy from the night's activities.

"Nngh," he mumbles, attempting to roll over. His stomach gurgles, still faintly rounded from being filled with demon seed. Some of it has leaked out during the night, staining the sheets with pearly iridescence, but most remains sealed inside him, warm and heavy.

The smell of food draws his attention to the kitchenette, where Gwi-Ma stands at the stove, bare-chested and humming, spatula in hand as he flips pancakes with practiced ease. His broad shoulders flex with each movement, demonic shadows occasionally rippling beneath his skin when the morning light hits just right.

"Morning, angel," he says without turning around, sensing Gi-hun's consciousness before he even makes a sound. "Protein pancakes today. You need the calories."

Gi-hun whimpers, trying again to sit up. His thighs tremble with the effort, still slick with golden essence that hasn't stopped leaking from him for days. The futon beneath him is beyond salvation, permanently stained with divine slick and demonic seed.

"I can't feel my legs," Gi-hun croaks, voice hoarse from screaming. "Or my... anything."

Gwi-Ma chuckles, flipping another perfect pancake onto the growing stack. "You'll need your strength back soon enough. The heat hasn't broken yet."

Gi-hun groans, collapsing back onto the damp sheets. "How can there possibly be more? You've been... we've been... for days."

"Celestial heat cycles last at least a week," Gwi-Ma says matter-of-factly, his bare torso gleaming in the morning light as he reaches for the bacon. "Sometimes two, if the vessel is particularly potent."

"And I'm... potent?" Gi-hun asks weakly.

Gwi-Ma turns, eyes flashing crimson for a moment as his gaze rakes over Gi-hun's exhausted form. "The most delicious thing I've ever tasted."

It feels like it, with how relentless Gwi-ma was during the three days that had passed since Gi-hun's heat had begun, and the apartment had become a sanctuary of sin and sustenance. Gwi-Ma had barely let him leave the futon except to use the bathroom and occasionally eat something that wasn't demon cock.

"I made coffee too," Gwi-Ma says, sliding a mug across the counter. Steam rises from it, carrying the rich aroma of expensive beans that definitely hadn't been in Gi-hun's cupboard before.

Gi-hun eyes it suspiciously. "Where did you get that? We didn't have good coffee."

"I went out while you were sleeping," Gwi-Ma shrugs, flipping the last pancake onto the stack. "Got groceries. Coffee. More towels."

"You... went shopping?" Gi-hun tries to imagine Gwi-Ma, King of the Underworld, pushing a cart down grocery store aisles, selecting organic produce and premium coffee beans. The mental image makes him snort with laughter despite his exhaustion.

"Something funny?" Gwi-Ma asks, plating the pancakes with surprising domesticity.

"Just picturing you in the cereal aisle," Gi-hun mumbles, finally managing to prop himself up on his elbows. The movement sends a fresh trickle of golden slick down his inner thigh. "Did you use the self-checkout?"

"I charmed the cashier," Gwi-Ma says with a wicked grin. "Poor girl couldn't stop staring. I think she gave me her number."

Gi-hun feels an unexpected stab of something. Not quite jealousy (at least, that’s what he’s telling himself), but close. "Oh."

Gwi-Ma's expression softens at the dejected tone. He abandons the stove, turning off the fire in favor of crossing the small apartment in three strides to kneel beside the futon. His large hand cups Gi-hun's cheek, thumb brushing over the flushed skin.

"Jealous, angel?" he murmurs, voice dropping to that dangerous purr that makes Gi-hun's spent cock twitch weakly.

"No," Gi-hun lies, leaning into the touch despite himself. "Why would I be jealous of some random cashier?"

"Because I would be. You’re mine now," Gwi-Ma says simply, leaning down to press a surprisingly gentle kiss to Gi-hun's forehead. "And I don't share my meals."

The possessive words should probably offend him, but instead they send a warm flutter through Gi-hun's chest. He's too exhausted to analyze why being called a meal makes him feel cherished rather than objectified.

"Come on," Gwi-Ma says, scooping Gi-hun up effortlessly despite his protests. "Breakfast time."

Gi-hun yelps as Gwi-Ma carries him to the kitchen table, setting him down gently on a chair cushioned with a fresh towel. His legs tremble, still weak from days of relentless breeding.

The pancakes sit steaming on a single plate at the center of the table, golden and perfect. Gi-hun frowns, looking around for a second serving.

"Where's yours?" he asks, shifting uncomfortably as another trickle of divine slick leaks onto the towel beneath him. "Aren't you eating?"

Gwi-Ma's lips curl into a predatory smile, eyes flashing briefly crimson. "Oh, I'm definitely eating."

Before Gi-hun can process the implications, Gwi-Ma disappears under the table, large hands spreading Gi-hun's trembling thighs with firm pressure.

"W-wait, what are you—oh!" Gi-hun gasps as Gwi-Ma's hot mouth finds his sensitive, puffy pussy, still leaking divine essence from the previous night's activities.

"Gwi-Ma!" Gi-hun yelps, hands flying to grip the edge of the table as that sinful tongue delves between his swollen folds. "I'm trying to eat!"

"So am I," Gwi-Ma growls against his slick flesh, the vibration making Gi-hun's thighs tremble. His tongue laps at the golden essence still trickling from Gi-hun's used hole, savoring every drop like fine wine.

Gi-hun whimpers, fork clattering onto his plate as Gwi-Ma's mouth works between his legs with obscene dedication. The demon's tongue is impossibly long, curling inside him to lap at the remnants of his own seed from the night before.

"Eat your pancakes," Gwi-Ma commands, voice muffled against Gi-hun's dripping cunt. "You need the protein."

Gi-hun's hand shakes as he lifts the fork again, trying to focus on cutting a bite of pancake while Gwi-Ma's tongue explores every sensitive fold between his legs. The demon licks and sucks with methodical precision, cleaning away every trace of divine slick and demonic seed from the previous night.

"C-can't concentrate," Gi-hun gasps, hips bucking involuntarily as Gwi-Ma's tongue finds his swollen clit-cock, still tender from overuse. "You're—ah!—distracting me."

"Good," Gwi-Ma purrs, lips vibrating against sensitive flesh. "I like watching you struggle."

He seals his mouth over Gi-hun's small cock, sucking gently while his tongue swirls around the oversensitive head.

"Ah!" Gi-hun's fork clatters to the plate again, his back arching as Gwi-Ma's hot mouth engulfs his cocklet completely. "T-too sensitive—!"

Gwi-Ma hums against the tender flesh, the vibration sending shockwaves through Gi-hun's already overstimulated body. His hands grip Gi-hun's thighs with bruising force, spreading them wider to expose every inch of that divine pussy to his hungry mouth.

"Please," Gi-hun whimpers, one hand moving to tangle in Gwi-Ma's hair. Whether he's pushing him away or pulling him closer, even he doesn't know. "I can't, again, not so soon—"

But his body betrays him. Fresh golden slick wells up from his core, trickling down to meet Gwi-Ma's eager tongue.

"Mmm," Gwi-Ma moans approvingly, lapping up the fresh divine essence with obscene enthusiasm. "Already making more for me. Such a good little vessel."

Gi-hun's thighs shake uncontrollably as Gwi-Ma's tongue delves deeper, cleaning out every drop of leftover seed while simultaneously coaxing more golden slick from his abused hole. The demon's mouth is relentless, alternating between gentle licks and firm suction that has Gi-hun seeing stars.

"The pancakes are getting cold," Gi-hun manages to gasp, though his protest sounds weak even to his own ears.

"Then eat faster," Gwi-Ma commands, his voice a dark rumble against sensitive flesh. He punctuates the order with a particularly wicked swirl of his tongue that makes Gi-hun cry out.

"E-eat faster?" Gi-hun stammers, hands trembling as he tries to cut another piece of pancake. "How am I supposed to—AH!"

His words dissolve into a strangled moan as Gwi-Ma's tongue delves impossibly deep, curling against spots inside him that make his vision blur. The demon beneath the table is relentless, devouring every drop of divine essence with hungry, appreciative growls.

"Try," Gwi-Ma murmurs against his sensitive flesh, the vibration making Gi-hun's thighs quiver.

Gi-hun manages to lift a bite to his mouth, chewing mechanically as pleasure builds in his core. The pancakes are damnedly perfect, fluffy, sweet, with a hint of something spicy that dances on his tongue. But it's impossible to focus on the flavor when Gwi-Ma is feasting between his legs with demonic dedication.

"G-Gwi-Ma—" Gi-hun gasps, fork trembling in his hand as the demon's tongue finds that perfect spot just inside his entrance. "I can't—I'm going to—"

"Cum for me," Gwi-Ma growls against his flesh, the command vibrating through Gi-hun's core. "Feed me again."

The pressure of that wicked tongue pushes Gi-hun over the edge. His back arches, mouth falling open in a silent scream as divine essence gushes from his core, flooding Gwi-Ma's eager mouth with golden nectar.

The demon drinks greedily, moaning against Gi-hun's pulsing flesh as celestial energy floods his system.

Gwi-Ma finally pulls back, lips glistening with divine essence, eyes glowing with absorbed celestial energy. He looks up at Gi-hun's trembling form and something almost tender crosses his demonic features.

"You can't even eat properly like this," he murmurs, rising from beneath the table in one fluid motion. His massive cock stands proudly, hard and leaking from the taste of Gi-hun's divinity.

Before Gi-hun can protest, Gwi-Ma lifts him effortlessly, settling back into the chair with Gi-hun on his lap.

"Let me help you," Gwi-Ma says, positioning Gi-hun over his throbbing length. "Just sit pretty and I’ll feed you myself, hm?"

"But I—"

Gi-hun's words dissolve into a long, broken moan as Gwi-Ma slowly lowers him onto his thick shaft, stretching his still-sensitive pussy around the familiar girth.

"Shh, shh," Gwi-Ma soothes, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to Gi-hun's temple as he settles him fully in his lap, cock buried to the hilt. "Just sit. I won't move."

Gi-hun whimpers, thighs trembling as he adjusts to the impossible fullness. "P-promise? I'm too sore for more..."

"Promise," Gwi-Ma murmurs, reaching for the plate of pancakes. "Just keep me warm while you eat." He cuts a perfect bite of pancake, lifting it to Gi-hun's trembling lips. "Open."

Gi-hun parts his lips obediently, accepting the bite with a soft whimper. The sweetness melts on his tongue, but it's impossible to focus on the taste when Gwi-Ma's massive cock is throbbing inside his sensitive channel, stretching him full and deep.

"Good boy," Gwi-Ma murmurs, cutting another piece. His free hand rests possessively on Gi-hun's hip, thumb tracing lazy circles over the flushed skin. "Such a perfect little angel, taking care of yourself for me."

Gi-hun shifts slightly, trying to get more comfortable, and immediately regrets it as the movement makes Gwi-Ma's cock press against that devastating spot inside him. A fresh trickle of golden slick leaks around the thick shaft, dripping onto the chair beneath them.

"Careful," Gwi-Ma warns, voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Keep squirming like that and I might forget my promise."

Gi-hun freezes, acutely aware of how full he feels, impaled on Gwi-Ma's massive length. The demon's cock throbs inside him with each heartbeat, a constant reminder of his presence.

"S-sorry," Gi-hun whispers, accepting another bite of pancake from Gwi-Ma's fingers. The domesticity of being fed while stuffed full of demon cock should be jarring, but somehow it feels right, like they've been doing this forever.

"Don't apologize," Gwi-Ma murmurs, pressing his lips to Gi-hun's shoulder. "I love how sensitive you are. How you can't help but leak for me."

As if on cue, another trickle of golden slick slides down Gi-hun's inner thigh, pooling on the chair beneath them. Gwi-Ma's nostrils flare at the scent, his cock twitching involuntarily inside that divine heat.

"You're dripping on my chair," he observes, voice strained with the effort of staying still.

"Your chair?" Gi-hun manages between bites, raising an eyebrow despite his breathless state. "Since when is it your chair?"

"Since I've been living here for weeks," Gwi-Ma replies, cutting another piece of pancake with perhaps more force than necessary. "Since I've been paying for the bills and rent."

Gi-hun pauses mid-chew, blinking in surprise. "You've been paying rent?"

"Did you think your landlord suddenly developed a charitable streak?" Gwi-Ma asks, amusement coloring his voice as he feeds Gi-hun another bite. "You're three months behind, sweetheart. I may have... influenced his memory of your payment schedule."

Gi-hun swallows hard, both from the pancake and the implications. "You've been taking care of me this whole time?"

"Someone has to," Gwi-Ma murmurs, his hand moving to rest protectively over Gi-hun's slightly rounded belly. "Can't have my perfect little vessel getting evicted, can I?"

The possessive words send an unexpected warmth through Gi-hun's chest, even as his pussy clenches involuntarily around Gwi-Ma's thick shaft. The demon hisses at the sensation, his grip tightening on Gi-hun's hip.

"Gi-hun," Gwi-Ma warns through gritted teeth, his cock pulsing inside Gi-hun's tight heat. "Keep doing that and breakfast is going to turn into something else entirely."

Gi-hun tries to stay still, but the knowledge that Gwi-Ma has been quietly taking care of him—paying his bills, buying groceries, ensuring he has a place to live—makes something flutter dangerously in his chest. His body responds before his mind can catch up, divine slick pooling around Gwi-Ma's shaft as his pussy clenches with involuntary affection.

"I said careful," Gwi-Ma growls, his free hand moving to grip Gi-hun's hip with bruising force. "You're testing my self-control."

"Sorry, I just—" Gi-hun gasps as he shifts in Gwi-Ma's lap, abandoning the pretense of breakfast altogether. He turns his head, looking over his shoulder with wide, innocent eyes that somehow manage to convey something entirely sinful.

"I don't think I want pancakes right now," he whispers, voice soft but deliberate. His divine pussy clenches around Gwi-Ma's cock as he says it, contradicting any claim of innocence his expression might make.

Gwi-Ma's eyes flash crimson, pupils dilating instantly. "You little tease," he growls, fork clattering to the plate as his control snaps like a dry twig.

In one fluid motion, he spins Gi-hun around and stands, still buried deep inside Gi-hun, strong hands gripping those soft thighs to keep him impaled on his massive cock. Gi-hun gasps, arms flailing to wrap around Gwi-Ma's neck as the demon carries him away from the abandoned breakfast and towards their futons once again.