“You know, I've been around for nearly two millennia,” the boy said conversationally as he looked down at Hoseok.

Hoseok's chest rose and fell, an automatic action that continued even in his paralysed state, but Hoseok didn't respond, couldn't respond. He couldn't move at all. He was pretty sure he was still asleep, except this didn't feel like a dream. Everything was right in a way things never were in dreams.

The bedroom was dark, but the nightlight behind the door still illuminated the pictures of Hoseok's sister and parents hanging on the wall. The window was closed, the curtains drawn and waving slightly in the breeze created by the lazy circling of the ceiling fan. Even the sheets felt normal, silky soft, all bunched around Hoseok's knees. It was like he was dreaming with his eyes open.

“My birthday is coming up,” the boy continued, trailing a finger down Hoseok's bare chest as he spoke, “but will there be a party for me? No. Of course not. No one in the underworld celebrates a turning 1,987 years old.”

Soft, red fringe brushed against Hoseok's neck as the boy cuddled into him. He huffed, and Hoseok's body trembled as the cool breath washed across his collarbones. It was involuntary, but it still felt good for his body to react to something since it refused to respond to the signals he was trying to send from his brain.

If he could just move, Hoseok could push the demon away. If he could just get his voice to work, he could scream for his roommate to come help him, but he couldn't even get his throat to swallow the drool collecting in his mouth. It kept spilling out the corners and down his jaw.

The boy wiped Hoseok’s chin with the sleeve of his sweater. “Aww, I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I wish I could let you move. You would be so much more fun if you could move. We could have a real conversation. We could kiss.” The boy pressed his lips to Hoseok’s cheek, and Hoseok could feel his heartbeat pick up speed. “Oh,” the boy gasped and tapped his fingers on Hoseok's chest in time with the galloping of his heart. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” The boy moved to Hoseok’s other side, kissed the other cheek, and then he let the tip of his nose glide along the length of the bridge of Hoseok’s until their lips were millimeters apart and paused there to giggle.

The sun was beginning to rise. The first rays of pinkish-orange light filtering through the open blinds. The boy looked over his shoulder at the window and sighed. “Time’s almost up, Seokseok.” He ran his thumb along Hoseok’s cheekbone as if wiping away tears. “Don’t be sad, love. I’ll be back tomorrow.” With a final kiss to Hoseok’s forehead, the boy began to shimmer like a mirage in the sun, and then he was gone.

Hoseok’s muscles loosened, his joints unlocked, and he gasped as he sat bolt upright in the bed. “Yoongi,” he attempted to call out for his roommate, but it came out as a choked croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yoongi!”

He should have known better than to expect a response. Yoongi slept like the dead. Kicking the sheets away from his feet, Hoseok propelled himself out the door and across the hall. “Yoongi!” he screamed. “Yoongi, wake the up!”

“Hoseok,” Yoongi growled through the door, “the sun isn’t even fully up yet. This better be pretty damn important.”

“It happened again, the demon came back.”

 

It had been happening since Hoseok was a teenager, actually. His eyes would snap open in the early hours of the morning to find the demon boy crouched over him. He was small and strong, with soft cheeks and puffy lips, and he held Hoseok completely immobile against the bed for the entirety of his visit.

The demon never aged, but if Hoseok had to guess, he looked to be around nineteen or twenty years old. His skin was pale in the moonlight, his eyes the color of coal. The demon’s hair changed over the years, ranging from black to soft brown and including several less natural colors in between such as pink and orange. Now, it was red, a deep red that reminded Hoseok of blood.

At first, Hoseok had been terrified. As soon as he was released from his paralysis, he would begin screaming for his mother. He told her everything about the encounters, every menacing look the boy cast his way, every cruel story the demon whispered to him. Then one day the visits took a turn, one that Hoseok didn’t feel comfortable sharing with his mother. The boy began to touch him.

It wasn't anything sinister, just fingertips tracing the veins on the inside of his wrist, a hand sliding across his shoulder, knuckles brushing his cheeks. It was actually kind of nice, the touching, and Hoseok was too embarrassed to tell his mother because he was enjoying it.

Hoseok's mother thought the night terrors had stopped, but by that point, Hoseok was running on so little sleep that she dragged him to the doctor. The doctor prescribed pills to help him sleep soundly, and the demon… faded away.

 

It wasn’t until Hoseok started college that the boy returned. Hoseok’s sleep schedule was disrupted by the new environment, new friends, and his studies. He often fell asleep at his desk, his pillow an open textbook. When he did manage to drag himself to his bed, he was only ever able to sleep a few hours before his visitor would show up.

The demon talked. A lot. Hoseok got the feeling he was lonely because he would have lengthy, one-sided conversations for hours as he straddled Hoseok's waist, his hair, his face, almost affectionately. But the stories he told were ones of evil and destruction.

He talked about wars he'd witnessed centuries ago. He told tales of murders, , and beatings he’d had a part in, whispering into the ears of humans until they could no longer fight their violent urges and succumbed to the temptation the demon presented to them. For years he never seemed to run out of those stories, but then one morning Hoseok awoke to the boy curled into his side rather than seated across his chest. He sniffled, and without lifting his head, he said, “You can’t fool me, human. I know you’re aware.”

Of course, Hoseok couldn’t answer, but he didn’t think he had to. Something told him that even if the demon couldn’t read his thoughts, he could sense Hoseok’s sympathy.

“I’m sorry, Seokseok. It has been hundreds of years since I’ve felt any emotion other than anger or hate. These feelings have taken me by surprise, but I’ll have myself back under control by tomorrow.” Despite his words, the boy seemed eager to indulge himself in a bit of snuggling. “You’re very good at this,” he commented, still a bit sniffly. “Even if you can’t reciprocate, you’re warm and comfortable, and you smell nice.”

It was hard to tell that morning if the sun was rising or not, veiled as it was by the clouds. Hoseok had spent half the night listening to the rain beating on the sidewalk outside his window between the demon’s nearly silent sobs. It felt like it might have been later than usual when he sat up to give Hoseok his customary goodbye kiss.

“I’ll return tomorrow, Seokseok, and I promise I’ll be back to normal,” he murmured against Hoseok’s cheek. This time, he released Hoseok’s body before he began to shimmer, and for a moment, Hoseok’s fingers twitched against the demon’s calf. Then he was gone.

“Demon?” Hoseok called into the empty room, hoping he would return, but he didn’t. Hoseok was all alone. Still, he wondered if the demon could hear him, so he continued to speak. “Demon, I… I don’t know your name, I’m sorry. When you come back, maybe you could tell me your name? Then I could stop referring to you as ‘demon’ because that feels… rude. So just, yeah, just tell me your name tomorrow? And-”

“Seok, you okay in there?” Yoongi yelled from the hallway, interrupting Hoseok’s monologue.

“Fine, Yoongs. I’ll get up and make coffee in a minute.”

“Don’t bother. I’m going back to bed,” Yoongi grumbled. “Just got up to take a leak and heard you talking. It’s early, dude. Try to get some more rest.”

“Yeah, okay. I will.” He wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. It wasn’t even something he was capable of after a visit from the demon, but he didn’t have to be anywhere for several more hours. He’d probably just lie in bed until he absolutely had to be up.

No, he decided bed was the last place he wanted to be after spending hours trapped there stock still. He needed to move, to stretch his muscles and flex his joints and get his blood really pumping. The rain seemed to have finally stopped, so Hoseok rolled out of bed and into his trainers to go for a run.

 

Hoseok’s usual path was about two miles, down a few blocks from his apartment, a loop around the park, and then back home. It was convenient, and he could run the whole thing in less than an hour and usually still have time to stop at the bakery for croissants on the way back. This time, he skipped the park exit in favor of another loop, and then another, and another. By his fifth round his legs were burning, his lungs were screaming, and he had blisters on both feet from not tying his shoes tight enough, but his mind felt a lot more clear. He collapsed onto a park bench after a few lazy stretches that mostly only succeeded in causing him to take longer to catch his breath.

Panting and wiping sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt, Hoseok began to run through everything he knew about the demon.

1- The demon had done horrible, horrible things. Hoseok couldn’t recall every story the boy had told him over the years, but he also couldn’t recall hearing the same story twice. That was… a lot of bad things.

2- The demon seemed to have latched onto Hoseok somehow. He might not have chosen Hoseok originally, but he clearly felt connected to him by now if his nearly nightly appearances were anything to go by.

3- Something had upset the demon this morning. He hadn’t spoken about what it was… he’d barely spoken at all. It was obvious he was bothered, but whether it was because of whatever had happened to him or his own reaction to it, Hoseok couldn’t tell.

Things that were less clear included whether the demon was capable of reading Hoseok’s thoughts and what the demon actually wanted from Hoseok, but he figured he could work that out later.

Hoseok walked the rest of the way home, stopping for croissants,like he’d originally planned, and coffee too because Yoongi would probably already be up by the time he got back.

The rest of Hoseok’s day was utterly normal. He listened to Yoongi about the quality of the bakery’s coffee. He went to work and the boring meetings where the only contribution he made was his attendance. He grabbed takeout for Yoongi and himself and ate his portion alone in front of the television when Yoongi ended up staying late at work, and then it was bedtime.

Hoseok made his preparations, going through his skincare routine and slipping into soft, flannel pajama bottoms before sliding beneath the comforter. It took some time to fall asleep. As exhausted as he was, his body was thrumming with anticipation, but he forced himself to close his eyes and steady his breathing, counting backwards from one hundred a few times before he finally drifted off into a restless slumber.

 

“What’s this?”

Hoseok’s eyes snapped open. He had migrated to one side of the bed in his sleep, and the demon was taking up the other half, lying on his side with his plump little cheek propped on his fist. Hoseok’s view was slightly blocked by the corner of his pillow sticking up in his face, but he could see enough to know the demon was reading the note he’d left.

“‘What is your name?’ Mmm… wouldn’t you like to know,” the demon purred. “Oh,” he gasped as he read the other question. “You want me to let you speak?”

Hoseok blinked as the demon scooted closer. Their noses were almost touching, and it had happened so quickly that Hoseok would have flinched if… if he could move.

“I’m sorry, Seokseok. It seems I can’t grant either of your requests tonight. You see, I can’t tell you my name because you could use it against me, summon me somewhere and then trap me there to kill me. I like living too much to allow that, but you can call me Chimchim if you want.” His cheeks bunched up under his crescent eyes as he grinned brightly. It wasn’t anything like the sultry smirks Hoseok was used to. It made him look younger and much more human. “Seokseok and Chimchim. Yes, I like that. As for speaking,” Chimchim sighed, “you might scream. I know that roommate of yours is a heavy sleeper, but if he happened to hear you… well that would be bad for all of us. I might have to kill him or you or both of you, and while I’m not opposed to killing, I would hate to have to hurt you or someone you care about.” Chimchim caressed Hoseok’s cheek with a touch so gentle it made goosebumps spread down his neck and arms. “So no, you may not speak. But this was fun! You should leave me notes more often. I like having something more personal to talk about.”

 

It was a good system, the notes, and Chimchim seemed eager to answer whatever he could. Hoseok learned a great deal about him both through his answers and his refusal to answer or grant requests. Hoseok still wasn’t allowed to speak or move, but if he asked Chimchim to touch him a certain way (or to not), the demon nearly always complied.

Chimchim still told him stories, but they rarely covered the darker topics they used to. Now the stories he told were about the beauty of the world that he’d seen in his nearly two thousand years… sunrises on mountaintops, the first snowflakes of winter, cherry blossoms blooming in spring… Chimchim had apparently once spent an entire season watching a garden grow. The way he described it reminded Hoseok of the sped up videos of sprouting seeds that his biology teacher had shown him in high school except that Chimchim had watched it in real time.

When Hoseok left a note asking if Chimchim had ever been in love, the demon curled into Hoseok's side with a sigh and said, “Once, but I don't think he loved me back.”

It made Hoseok sad to think that Chimchim had gone so long without feeling loved, and he mentioned it in his next note.

“Oh, Seokseok. Thank you for worrying about me, but I know I'm not much to love.” There was a bitter tinge to his words. “The evil in me outweighs the good. Evil is difficult to love.”

That night he granted Hoseok's request to be able to use only his lips. The rest of his body remained immobile including his tongue and vocal cords, but when Chimchim dipped his head to kiss him, Hoseok was able to respond. His lips moved against the demon’s, and the demon gasped in surprise before pressing closer, taking advantage of the gift he’d given Hoseok.

After that, Hoseok found small parts of his body able to move at different times. His fingers could curl around Chimchim’s hand, his head could turn to the side to see Chimchim rather than just the dark ceiling, and his lips... almost always his lips were free to form silent words and to kiss when Chimchim came within range.

“Why me?” Hoseok whispered into the darkness one morning when the demon was just about to leave. Small fingers traced the curve of Hoseok’s jaw, and Chimchim’s black eyes sparkled.

“You’re good and kind. I can feel your kindness radiating from you.” He held his hands in front of him as if absorbing the warmth of a fire. “There’s so much pain in the world. The underworld is nothing but pain, but you… you’re all caring and optimistic in spite of everything you know, everything you see and everything I tell you. I don’t have a soul, but I can sustain myself on the goodness of yours.” He did that intuitive thing again, the thing that made Hoseok feel like Chimchim could read his mind. A breathy laugh floated through the stillness of the room, and the demon leaned close to Hoseok’s ear to whisper, “Not all demons feed on evil, and I would never take anything from you that you weren’t willing to give. So why you, Hoseok?” He was still speaking as he began to shimmer, taking a bit longer to fade away than usual. “I may not have a soul, but I have a heart, and my heart desires you.”

 

“You haven’t come banging on my door first thing in the morning in ages. Did the demon go away?” It didn’t dawn on Hoseok until Yoongi brought it up that it had been many months since he mentioned Chimchim to Yoongi. He had stopped talking about the nightly visits around the time he learned the demon’s… nickname, and even now, he didn’t feel like sharing anything with Yoongi. He felt possessive, wanting to keep Chimchim to himself, so he shrugged noncommittally and tried to change the subject.

“I bought some of that ice cream you like at the store this week. Maybe we could have some after dinner tonight,” Hoseok suggested.

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed. “Something's going on with you. Don't think you can weasel your way out of this with the promise of ice cream.”

“So you don't want ice cream?” Hoseok asked, making his voice sound as innocent as possible. Yoongi glared at him a moment longer before conceding.

“Of ing course I want ice cream, but I also want to know what's going on with you.”

“Nothing's going on with me. Just…” Hoseok tried to think up a lie, “ya know, getting a little more rest lately.” Rest, sure, but not sleep. That much Hoseok knew to be obvious by the suitcase sized bags under his eyes.

The thing about it was, he didn’t mind the tired feeling that lingered after Chimchim shimmered away each morning. Like sore muscles after an intense workout, it was a reminder of what they had shared in the darkness of his room when the rest of the world was still snoozing.

“So the demon isn’t a problem anymore?”

Hoseok pondered the question for a moment before answering truthfully, “Nope. No demon problems here.”

With a final, unsure look, Yoongi dropped the subject, deciding that ice cream was, in fact, more important than whatever was going on with Hoseok.

 

“Your roommate is a menace.” Hoseok found that his eyebrows were fully functional this morning as they drew together inquisitively. “Did you know he’s camped out in the hallway? Don’t worry. He’s asleep, and he couldn’t hear me even if he were awake, but just what have you told him to make him want to spy on you?”

Hoseok’s brain sent a message to his shoulders to shrug, but they remained relaxed and unmoving. He lifted his eyebrows instead.

“Don’t you blame me, Seokseok. You’re the one who acted all squirrelly when he asked about me, and yes, I saw that,” Chimchim accused, poking a finger at the center of Hoseok’s chest. His head tilted to the side thoughtfully before he continued, “It does make me curious, though. Why didn’t you tell him?”

A failed huff came out as more of a deep sigh before Hoseok’s lips were freed so he could whisper his simple response. “You’re mine.”

“Yours, huh? Since when?”

“When you cried. You came to me for comfort when you were crying.”

Chimchim’s body went rigid against Hoseok, and cold. It was like being cuddled up to an iceberg. Before Hoseok knew what was happening, the cold disappeared again. Unfortunately, so did the demon.

 

He didn’t come back the next night, or the night after that, and by the third night, Hoseok was nearly delirious from sleep deprivation.

He tried. Every night, he tried to fall asleep. He counted and measured his breaths and played white noise. He drank warm milk and hot tea at night and quit coffee completely. He tried exercise and reading, but nothing worked.

If he happened to doze off for a few minutes, it was never at night in his cozy bed under his soft blankets. It was at his desk at work or in the middle of a meeting. It was on the train home, surrounded by strangers. It was during dinner with Yoongi who became more worried every day because in his words, “Hoseok, you look like a damn zombie.

Hoseok felt like a zombie, too. He stumbled around the apartment, bumping into things because he couldn’t focus on where he was going. He could barely hold a conversation without drifting off into some daydream about sleeping on a cloud floating high over the city. All Hoseok wanted was one night of rest. Was that really so much to ask?

After ten sleepless nights, Hoseok was desperate. That night, he laid in bed, perfectly still. He didn’t move a muscle, even when his nose began to itch. He resisted the urge to reach up and scratch or to wiggle it until the itch went away and instead pretended Chimchim was there, holding him hostage in his own bed.

The streetlight outside shone through Hoseok’s blinds, stripes of light created by the slats glowing across the carpet and up the side of the dresser. The nightlight behind the door cast an eerie shadow of some figurine sitting on the vanity onto the wall in the opposite direction of the stripes. Hoseok yanked the pillow out from under his head and covered his face, screaming into it until he's lungs were empty and his shoulders were shaking with silent, frustrated sobs.

“I'm not supposed to come if you're not asleep.” Chimchim’s voice was muffled through the pillow where Hoseok's fingers were locked around it, pressing it against his cheeks. “But you haven’t slept in three days, Hoseok.”

Hoseok internally rolled his eyes but found that they wouldn’t actually move. Neither would his hands, still holding the pillow to his face. Three days? he fumed. Not three days. TEN MOTHER ING DAYS! A high pitched screech eked its way out of Hoseok’s throat, and he realised that somehow his rage was breaking through the demon’s spell in a way that terror never could. He let his anger swell inside him for a few moments and unleashed it all at once, tearing the pillow away from his face and flinging it at the wall. Chimchim had been sitting at the foot of the bed, but at Hoseok’s outburst, he fled with unnatural grace and speed to cower in the corner of the room by the door. In his panic, he released the rest of his hold on Hoseok’s body.

“What?” Hoseok spat as he sat up. “Are you afraid of me? You are a demon, Chimchim. You couldn’t possibly be afraid of a weak little human like myself. You are nearly two millennia old! You’ve seen wars and convinced good men to do unspeakable things, but you’re afraid of me?” He scoffed and shook his head.

“You haven’t slept,” Chimchim repeated in a voice that sounded strange and far removed from his usual cocky confidence.

“No, I haven’t. I haven’t slept in over a week, and whose fault is that? Where have you been? Why did you even leave? Why didn’t you come back? I’ve… I’ve been-” Hoseok cut off with a sob as the anger washed out of him and left him feeling hollow and empty.

“I’m sorry, but you haven’t slept. I tried to come back. I told you, I’m not supposed to come if you don’t sleep. It’s dangerous… because of this. It’s too easy for you to fight the paralysis when you’re awake.” Chimchim pushed himself off the floor and cautiously approached the bed. “Why wouldn’t you just sleep?”

“Because I missed you.” Hoseok heard a small gasp and the creak of his mattress as the demon crawled onto it.

“Why would you miss me?” He huffed a disbelieving laugh. “I’m quite literally a nightmare.”

“You’re not a nightmare,” Hoseok argued. “You’re a fantasy. Half the time I’m convinced you’re not even real, just a figment of my imagination. The other half I’m sure you are real because I couldn’t possibly dream up anything so perfect.”

Chimchim crept closer to Hoseok, climbing fully into Hoseok’s lap when he finally reached him. “But I’m… I’m terrible, Hoseok. I’m really bad. I’m a-”

“Demon. I know. But… you’re kind of my demon.” Hoseok’s hands slid up Chimchim’s back beneath his shirt, feeling the smooth skin there for the first time. He wasn’t as warm as a human, but he still felt very much alive, beating heart and all. “You haven’t been terrible to me, not in a long time, anyway. I’m not stupid, you know. That night you, and please don’t run when I say this,” he tightened his grip on Chimchim to remind him to stay put, “when you cried, that was when I realised that you’re more than just some cold, cruel being from the underworld. You have the capacity for love and kindness the same as any human does, and you opened up and showed me that part of yourself and I… I liked it. I like you, and I want you to stay. Please don’t leave again.”

“Where would I go?” Chimchim questioned as he tilted Hoseok’s chin up, warm brown eyes meeting black ones. “There’s no one else like you, Hoseok. No one. Believe me, I looked. No, I won’t leave. I’ll be here every night for as long as you want me here.” Soft fingertips pressed gently at the skin beneath Hoseok’s eyes. “You look like hell, and I would know. I live there.”

“Why thank you. I appreciate that immensely. You know, that is your fault as well,” Hoseok accused, and out of habit, he remained completely still while Chimchim examined him. “What’s the diagnosis, Doc? Am I gonna make it?”

“Mm, unfortunately. But you’ll need a week of sleep to make a full recovery, I’m afraid.”

“Oh dear. Am I allowed to have some company during this recovery?” Hoseok asked hopefully.

“That depends on what kind of company. I hear demons make wonderful recovery companions. Do you happen to know any?”

Hoseok chuckled. “I might know a few.”

The demon smacked Hoseok’s chest playfully and then manhandled his sleepy body until he was resting comfortably against the pillows again. Hoseok immediately began to drift, his eyelids unable to counter gravity any longer. “Chimchim?” he mumbled, swinging a hand around the bed in search of the demon.

“It’s, uh… it’s Jimin, actually.” Hoseok’s eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t open his eyes. “Just… you should know that if you say my name, my real name, it’s basically summoning me. I’ll have to show up, no matter the time or place. So be careful who you talk to about me.”

“Mmmm… ‘kay. Careful. Got it.”

“And Hoseok, you can, y’know, move. Whenever. I… You’re not a pet for me to keep on a leash. You’re free, and I trust you.”

“Mmm, but not now. Can’t move. Too tired.” Jimin shifted, settling against Hoseok’s side with his head resting on Hoseok’s shoulder. “Hey, J’minie,” Hoseok’s words all kind of ran together as his tongue and lips refused to cooperate, “‘m sleepy. Tell me a story.”

“What kind of story?”

“Yours,” Hoseok answered with a lazy shrug of the shoulder not being used as a pillow.

“Oh, well,” Jimin began, and the last words Hoseok heard before the world faded away completely were, “I came into being in the year humans number year 30....”