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A pin through a white veil, piercing ever so swiftly. So easily. It takes all but half a second to do but the pain that rushes in throbbing waves after feels never ending.
Jake sobs, swears he can hear the shredding of his hymen. Fat tears roll down his temples, pooling past his ears and dampening his hair. His wings unfurl, tense up, then fall weak against the sheets.
It’s been done.
Heeseung has breached him. Heeseung, a mortal, has made a fallen angel. Their two souls are beyond redemption, below God, now.
Jake feels ripped open.
He feels bittersweet. His physical form shall never be the same, but Heeseung’s remains unchanged. It should be the other way around, he thinks. Heeseung, born of and with flesh, whose parents created him through this exact ritual.
Heeseung uncurls one of Jake’s tight fists and tugs his hand off from the sheets. He leans in, careful not to sink any deeper, and presses his lips to each knuckle. After each kiss he whispers:
’I love you.’
’I love you.’
’I love you.’
’I love you.’
’I love you.’
“Move, please,” Jake whimpers, blinking, attempting to clear his vision. “finish me off already.”
Heeseung’s pupils are blown wide, eclipsed. He looks disheveled, his cock twitches tirelessly, at a standstill deep in Jake’s gushing cunt. He spreads his thighs wider, sliding his left hand down his chest to roll his wrist over the distention formed in his lower stomach.
It rips the most pitiful of sounds from their throats that bounces off the four walls of Heeseung’s bedroom.
“Don’t word it like that,” Heeseung groans, “as if you’re asking me to kill you.”
“This feels close enough to death.” Jake shakily sighs as Heeseung slowly pulls back, a mess of dull blood and fresh slick frothing where they’re connected.
“What exactly is it the death of?” He asks, voice already hoarse.
“The man I was before you.” Jake breathes in one drawn out, airy exhale.
Heeseung brings Jake’s hand to his bare chest and chuckles, “I guess you consider this a double suicide then...”
“It is.” Jake giggles, everything suddenly feels lighter now that the ache is beginning to fade. He thinks he’s one kiss from floating away.
“It’s the only way to make us even, to make this fair. You damn your soul, I share mine,” His wings are motionless, flat and lifeless beneath their weight. “if we pull the trigger at the same time, they can’t call it voluntary manslaughter.”
Heeseung chuckles, for an angel Jake has the most grim, crude humor he’s ever heard. Slowly, he seethes deeper into Jake’s cunt until coming to a wobbly stop at the hilt.
Jake feels like he’s being split in half, trying to even out his breath, endless tears rolling down his reddened cheeks. His hands stretch outward, feeling up on the Heeseung’s toned chest and over curve of his shoulders. He lets his hands run free, like this, under moonshine and dim light, he’s a painting, a sight that sores Jake’s eyes.
Heeseung grinds his hips, testing, then grabs onto the underside of Jake’s thighs and pushes on his knees. Until Jake swore he was actually going to be snapped in two, knees to his chest, Heeseung’s stunning face that much closer. The new position is mind numbing as Heeseung slowly pulls out, then jerks back in.
“Fuckkk-“ Jake drawls, the air being punched out of his lungs as Heeseung starts with aborted, short thrusts.
Jake places both of his hands on Heeseung’s chest. His eyes are wet and glazed over whilst Heeseung’s are wild and wide.
Jake is so flushed and pretty, sweaty, out of breath and almost ready to break under the tension between both of their bodies. He can’t do anything besides take it, let the tears in his eyes spill as he’s being stretched, pussy fluttering, showing Heeseung just how much he wants this.
“You feel so fucking good.” Heeseung thrusts forward too harshly, knocking Jake up the bed a little bit. The sensation is overwhelming and Jake’s face twists, Heeseung curses- straining his hips back from doing it again. He has to be gentle. Jake’s holding onto Heeseung’s shoulders now, whimpering and moaning, crying messily. He’s loud. Heeseung knew he would be.
Heeseung discovers he himself isn’t, but he keeps letting out sighs through his nose.
“Jake?”
Jake barely hears it, the soft call of his lover.
He can tell Jake is feeling him in the most tender parts of him because his thighs won’t stop shaking, and his breaths are coming out in such short pants you’d think he was asthmatic.
“Baby?”
He hums in response. God. He’s so lucky. So, so lucky. Heeseung is everything. Heeseung is his world.
“Are you with me?”
A dreamy, “Yes, m’here.” Is all he can manage. He croons when Heeseung smiles down at him. Warmth atop of warmth atop of more warmth.
“Hardly,” Heeseung says, “stay with me, this is my moment, too.”
Jake’s body responds well to that, pussy clenching down suddenly, taking every inch of Heeseung beautifully. His body is begging for more without him knowing, sucking Heeseung back in when he pulls out. Heeseung drags his cock out, grinds himself along Jake’s walls, he leans back from his glistening skin to get another view of him falling apart.
“You’re so- mhh,” Jake chokes on a breathy inhale, shoulders rising harshly as he continues to sob. “s’feels like there’s two of you inside me.” His body felt like it was on fire, he felt like he was going to melt into a puddle and soak into the sheets.
“You’re trembling, baby,” Heeseung muses, “you’re so delicate, so small.”
Dizzily, he glanced down at his stretched out pussy, his vision blurry as he watches Heeseung begin to fuck into him.
The sound of his dripping wet pussy filled the bedroom as well as Jake’s soft cries. Drool dripped down his face, mixing in with his tears. He no longer looked as pretty and put together as he once was. Now, he resembled something far dirtier with his blotchy cheeks and shiny lips.
Heeseung lets out a broken groan before his forehead comes down to rest in the crook of Jake’s neck. He’s already panting, heaving like an animal. His teeth scrape before he mouths at his jaw, then just below his ear, before those wet kisses finally find his neck. He sucks a mark near the start of his jawline, and then his tongue traces one of Jake’s arteries, pressing into it and feeling the blood rush through his body.
Jake flops his head back, now looking up at the ceiling. His hands crawl over the broadness of Heeseung’s shoulders, fingers hovering over the muscles that are being exerted. He traces his clavicle to find his scapula, then digs his nails right under it.
This is where his wings would be. Jake notes.
He takes in a deep breath, chest stuttering as Heeseung’s canines brush his artery. His nails continue to trace like they were searching for something, an opening, a seam. He dragged his touch slowly, almost reverently, until the scrape sharpened, until skin split in a thin red bloom. Blood welled up in beads, rising over heated skin. It wasn’t violent, not entirely, it was an invocation, a carving. As if by marking Heeseung there, right where bone met meat, he could coax wings of his own from beneath his skin.
Heeseung doesn’t flinch. He only breathed heavier, chest pressing into Jake’s as though offering himself to the idea of it, of light, of freedom and God, of becoming something more than human. And his nails kept moving, reaching higher.
Jake thought losing his faith would feel like falling. But it doesn’t, it feels like landing exactly where he was meant to be.
Wording it like that makes it sound noble.
It is not.
He has chosen the most blasphemous of paths. He chose it out of sacrifice, out of desperation to be with Heeseung forever. To feel him, to bruise with him, to cry and get sick with him.
Angel’s invented love, humans perfected it.
He told Heeseung of the hunger he had for him that sat in the hollow of his chest, and Heeseung thought only of offering himself to sustain it.
He pleaded so beautifully, on his knees and all in the middle of the kitchen with nothing but the stove light carving out his clasped hands.
Jake comes undone first.
It’s a feeling both tender and overwhelming, his heart aching like being gently carved with a spoon. A soft whine catches at Jake’s throat, what’s left of his chest collapsing before fluttering anew, chasing Heeseung’s muffled voice.
How human; this desperate longing.
A feeling like a soft, wounded little cry.
There’s something that grows greedy when Heeseung coos into his ear. Something about being held so easily, about being small and precious.
“Sweet thing, coming untouched. You’re an angel, baby.”
Jake thinks Heeseung means that figuratively, since he certainly isn’t an angel literally anymore.
He’s forsaken God, given up on Him. Turned his back on Him for this.
Heeseung cums after a few uncoordinated thrusts, his pelvis rutting against Jake’s ass.
“..shit, my love, trying to get me pregnant, already?” Jake awes as he looks down, subconsciously raising a brow when Heeseung’s cock twitches inside of him.
He sits up, jaw slack, trying to catch his breath.
Jake’s cunt was unrecognizable, beat up and bound to be sore tomorrow. His lips were tinted red and his poor, untouched clit sat between them, waiting to be used.
“Don’t,” Heeseung sucks in a sharp breath, “don’t with that. I am a weak man, Jake, if you put that in my head I won’t be able to get it out. Then it’ll be your job to finish what you started.”
Jake tries to sit up, a promiscuous remark on the tip of his tongue. He’s half way there when he realizes something is missing.
“They faded sometime ago.” Heeseung explains, voice low.
“I didn’t even feel it..” Jake breathes, looking back at the sheets. Nothing.
His back was bare, and his chest felt tight.
He looks up at Heeseung, expectant.
“Without your wings, you,” he starts, laying Jake back down. “feel closer, somehow. No less holy, just real. Like I can finally hold you and know you belong only to me.”
A fresh wave of tears streak hotly down Jake’s cheeks, and in the corner of his eye he can see where the blood running down Heeseung’s back stopped. Thin, red lines drying on his sides, right over his ribs.
Heeseung comes down to press their lips together, his cum oozing out of Jake’s cunt as he rolls his hips.
“In the end it will be okay.” He whispers.
“And if it’s not?” Jake asks, his brain feels mushy.
“Then we will die together, at least.”
What a kind thing to say.
“But, promise me this, that if we have made a mistake. If they do accuse me of voluntary manslaughter, tell me that I will be done away with by your hands, not theirs, not His.” Heeseung sounds serious. Jake wishes they could go back to bantering.
He feels human already; mourning the past. Carrying it around like the living carry the dead in urns.
Jake stares up at him, longingly. He nods.
“I promise.”