We can touch.

That was the first thought to pop into Minho’s mind when he woke up the next morning, just as the golden rays of the sun were beginning to creep in through the windows of his bedroom. And as if to prove that point, Minho felt the tell-tale warmth within his right hand that was so very solid, more so than anything has ever been in his life. He moved his gaze from the windows to the perfect creature lying in front of him, eyes wide open and looking back at him. Then, Minho noticed their clasped hands, exactly like how they were before the both of them fell asleep.

Instead of pulling away like he should do rightfully, Minho tightened his grip, unwilling to let go of the source of his joy within his grasp. Surprisingly, Jinki returned the hold with just as much pressure if not a bit more than Minho.

Wordlessly, Minho pulled the arm to his chest, cradling it like a baby against his body as he curled into himself. Jinki shifted on the bed to allow Minho to pull him closer, smiling gleefully, not unlike Minho. The permission granted to him makes Minho’s spirit soar and he is almost touching the sky when Jinki’s hand unfurls to rub against Minho’s chest gently. It was then that Minho’s spirit traded touching the clouds, to shooting into out of space.

Minho brought their clasped hands upwards to his mouth, peppering kisses over the knuckles, all over Jinki’s perfect skin. Jinki seemed amused by Minho’s show of affection, the weight of his duties and responsibilities seemingly forgotten for the moment to simply allow himself the freedom to enjoy the wonders of love. He reached out to cup Minho’s face with his free hand, the touch driving Minho insane and yet, settling him down like this was where he belonged.

And when Jinki leaned in to tentatively press his lips against Minho’s forehead, Minho falls into the pool of emotions created by his melting heart. Such pleasure, such happiness, Minho thought he would never know, thought that he did not deserve to know it. Yet, here he was, looking at an angel that was looking back at him with utmost love and care, smiling as bright as ten suns put together.

They end up entangled in limbs, somehow, Minho on top of Jinki, his forearms planted on either sides of Jinki’s face, drinking in the beauty of Jinki’s blue irises as the angel’s hands pioneered an unprecedented path on Minho’s back. He kissed the angel, pouring his heart into every slide of his lips against the other’s. There was innocence in the way Jinki lifted his head to meet Minho halfway eagerly, there was cheekiness in the way Minho would nip on soft red buds, there was need in the way Jinki would release breathless sounds of satisfaction.

And even if it were only for a while, there was Minho in Jinki and there was Jinki in MInho.

The alarm clock blaring, announcing the time brought the pair back to ground, to reality. Still their lips wouldn’t part, not for long. Eventually, when it dawned upon both that they could not spend the rest their lives with their breaths mingled, they pulled away. Lips found refuge on skin instead, leaving lingering pecks of ‘I don’t want to go’s and ‘Stay’s.

Minho held Jinki’s head in a tight hold against his chest as he buried his face into soft hair, still straddling the angel. Jinki reciprocated the emotions by tightening his grip around Minho.

“School sounds so irrelevant now…” Minho mutters into Jinki’s hair. He feels Jinki’s chortles rumble against his chest.

“Would it be too much if I said even Heaven sounds irrelevant now?” Jinki questioned, arching his neck so that he could look up at Minho.

Minho met his eyes, shaking his head as an answer. He glanced briefly at the clock. He could afford a few more minutes, he supposed. So he leaned down to press a feather-light kiss against Jinki’s lips, stealing his breath away even though the angel never needed it in the first place.

Something was different this time around, though. Minho didn’t mean for it to be that way, but it was. Desperation laced his every touch, his every kiss. Desperation to be close, desperation to be one with Jinki. Innocent kisses turned into searing clash of the lips, fingers no longer merely grazed, rather they gripped and clenched.

What shocked Minho most was Jinki’s reaction to the sudden change in their pace. Where Minho gripped hard, Jinki dug his nails in harder, where Minho’s tongue dominated, Jinki’s tongue fought to take over. Underneath all the heat of the moment, Minho registers guilt so deep, so engulfing that came from the knowledge that he turned a pure servant of God into this beast. But what could he do? He loved said beast too much not to be selfish.

A nip on Jinki’s Adam’s apple and a squeeze of Jinki’s hands in both of his above their heads and Jinki released the most sinful sound Minho’s ears have ever had the pleasure of hearing. It is enough to snap the angel back from the daze he willingly fell into as he began to push Minho off of himself. However, everything came to a standstill for Minho as his mind was absorbed into a whole new world. Gone were the walls of his own room, gone was the soft mattress below him, gone was the sunlight.

He was in a room with a really low ceiling. Well, it had four walls so that was he should call it, right? It was dark and stuffy as there were no windows at all. Directly opposite to the wall he was leaning against were metal rods that came from the ceiling to the ground, forming what seemed like a gate. He was sitting on the dusty ground and he realized that his clothes, a worn out shirt and tattered pants, were really filthy.

The place almost seemed like a dungeon straight from the history books and if it wasn’t, it surely felt like one for how trapped one would feel inside.

“I told ya’ that we should’ve run with what we got. Now look where your greediness got us…”

Minho did not physically jump at the sound of the voice, but he was pretty sure that he received the shock of his life. His body didn’t seem to be in his control, or else he was certain that he would have jumped and he would be cowering at the furthest corner now.

“Yeah well, at least we got most of the bastard’s gold…” Minho heard his own voice say and his head slowly turned to his side where there was another man seated cross-legged, looking just as haggard as him with his torn clothes and messy hair that covered a good percentage of his face.

“Gold that we threw away into the river!” the man huffed scornfully. Minho only now noticed the accent that he was speaking in, unidentifiable but he knew it was different than what he was used to hearing,

Minho saw his own hand lift, curling his forefinger invitingly to the other man. The man scoffed but heeded anyway, crawling on his knees to Minho and climbing onto his lap, straddling his outstretched legs without reverence for the fact that they were both men to be this close to each other. His own body didn’t seem to be protesting though.

Minho lifted both his hands now, again not in control of his own actions, and pushed all the hair away from the other man’s face. Holding the hair back with his own hands, he saw the smirk and the mischievous glint in the other’s eyes clearly. But that was not what Minho found interesting. Not at all.

What he found interesting was the fact that it was Jinki’s dirt-smeared face that he was cupping in his hands.

“Oh come’on. You know I always get us out of situations like this…” Minho heard his voice say, dripping with mirth.

Jinki’s smirk grew even more intense and suddenly, he was leaning in to claim Minho’s lips, kissing him dirty, all tongue and no finesse whatsoever. He was rough with his hands as he pulled the hair on the back of Minho’s head so that Minho’s neck arched to the back and made it easier for the other man to dominate the kiss.

“Yeah I know. It’s the only reason I still stick around, you fool,” Jinki said, grinning down at him. That was when Minho reached an inconspicuous hand between Jinki’s legs and much to his own shock, squeezed the other’s manhood right through the dirty pants. Jinki threw his head back in a loud moan that sounded so very familiar.

Then, all of a sudden, Minho was back in his own room, flat on his bed and staring up at the ceiling. He was breathing hard and Jinki was nowhere in sight. He rubbed his palms over his face, trying to make head and tail out of what just happened. Whatever he saw had seemed so real, had felt so real. So real that he thought he would have started questioning which was reality and imagining if he had stayed in that place a little while longer.

It had come out of nowhere and it had left Minho with so many questions and he couldn’t help but wonder if Jinki had seen it also. If he had, could there be some concealed meaning behind it?

~~~~~

“Jinki, you just have to answer their questions as honestly as possible and don’t seem too suspicious about it…”

“And don’t reveal anything about your human, unless specifically asked…”

“Yes, even then, try to keep your answers short and precise so that they will not have much to dwell over, meaning that they would not choose to see…”

“Keep them focused on only the matters of the Kiss and get through this, Jinki. The worse that could happen is your suspension for two months from your duties so you do not have to worry too much about that…”

“And when you’re through, we’ll figure something out about your other problems.”

Jinki was bombarded with instructions and orders of what he should do once he was in front of the Elders the whole way from when he had entered Heaven up until now, as they were about to step into the courtroom for his sudden trial. Jonghyun and Changmin were not helping at all in his nervous state, only adding to the endless list of things in his mind that he had to hide. The Chief had said next three days but Jinki certainly did not expect it