The Devil by the Window. (San x Bang Chan/Chris)

A/N: Yes, this is inspired by TXT's Devil by the Window (and somewhat by Sugar Rush Ride), which I feel may end up in my Spotify Wrapped this year, however they choose to do it this year. I played it the other day on Rhythm Hive but finally really listened to it today and I just couldn't help myself. I wanted to write something and this happened.

I wasn't sure who I wanted the characters to even be but this fell into place on its own and I just couldn't deny feeling it as these two the more I wrote, so yeah.

Yet another piece that I know I'm going to be tempted (and will probably follow through with) to write more for.

I hope that you enjoy it!

Ps. No, this wasn't beta checked so. Forgive me, please, for any typos and such.

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His figure sits tucked away in the shadows of the night, the moonlight pouring over him although no shadow of his own is casting onto the floor below him. It’s almost as if he’s not even there but that’s impossible. His presence is much too strong for him to just be a figure of imagination. He doesn’t have to make a sound and he doesn’t. He just sits there and waits for his prey... his target to notice him. He’s trying to be nice and not consider this mortal prey but just as hard as it is to ignore the immortal, is it hard for the immortal to deny how delectable the other smells.

“You’ve been there for a long time now, haven’t you? You’re not going away, are you?”

“I just want to play for a bit.”

“Play...?”

The mortal looks over at him and there’s a mixture of pure resistance yet eagerness in his eyes. There’s a stranger after all just hovering on his window sill. For one, his apartment is three floors up so, no, it’s not strange at all that this mysterious person is just there. It’s not eerie at all that he’s asking him to come out and “play,” whatever that means. There are warning bells ringing hard in his head but his body just doesn’t seem to be listening to him. He hasn’t moved from his spot and that should be calming but it’s the fact that he can’t get himself to move at all. Some part of him was questioning if he’d already made his way closer to the figure because, despite their distance, it feels like the scent of the stranger at his window is right at his nose, diving deeply into his throat. His body feels light, as though his feet aren’t even touching the floor and that’s when he’s realized the fragrance filling his room is even stronger than before.

“You’re just going to eat me alive, aren’t you?”

The shadow smiles, that much he can see from where he is and through the haze that’s filling and blurring the corners of his vision.

“I told you that I just want to play. I’m just asking if you want to.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Pleasure.”

It’s a simple answer, only one word, yet for some reason, it’s heavy and dripping in an emotion that he cannot read. He ends up on his knees, just looking up at the other from where he is. The dark figure laughs and turns so that his legs dangle inside of the room as he sits down completely on the sill, leaning back on his hands. His head tilts to the side and as their eyes meet, his face is much clearer now.

Blonde hair, warm-toned fair skin and sharp features. When he smiles this time, his eyes disappear into the thin crescents they form, his teeth seemingly sharper than any average human would have. He has on a white button-down blouse, loose fitting and fairly transparent. As the moonlight catches his skin at this angle, he’s glistening with what appears to be a mix of a sheen of sweat and small slivers of diamonds. He’s ethereal in an intoxicating sense and it’s like his smile makes it even harder to look away.

The dazzling being is no longer just a shadowy figure now as he extends his hand out, clearly waiting for him to come over and take it.

“What’s your name,” he blurts out as though it’s his last attempt to keep his ground in reality.

He’s very right about that. It is his last chance.

“San” is the answer he receives. When he unconsciously repeats the name, it’s as though his body heats from the inside out. San’s head raises a bit, cocking a brow as well, before a grin drags his lips wide. It’s as though he senses the shift.

Or maybe he caused it.

It’s hard to tell at the moment.

“Christopher...”

He jolts when San calls his name with ease and that just seems to amuse the stranger even more.

“Yes or no?”

“Wha-- What was the question again?”

San frowns, his fox eyes glaring at him, “I don’t like repeating myself. Not like this anyway.”

Before Christopher can question just what the other means by that, his thoughts are interrupted.

“Do you want to play with me?”

“If I say, yes?”

“I’ll just take you on a ride you won’t want to get off of.”

“I’m going to die, aren’t I? What are you?”

“Yes or no?”

Christopher is even more hesitant than before but it’s the shift his body makes forward that makes him uneasy. He wants to believe that San is doing this to him but he knows that’s not true. His body is doing it autonomously. It could be because there’s a part of his mind that’s very heavily leaning toward taking up the offer. It feels as though most of him has already agreed so, then, what part is causing him to hold back?

“Don’t fight it,” San smirks and combs his fingers through his hair before extending his hand again, “You aren’t scared of me so just come to me. If you really want to come back, I’ll bring you back.”

“Why me?”

“I was drawn to you just as you are to me.”

“What does that mean,” Christopher asks, his body still moving closer, crawling toward the other.

“I don’t think I could leave this window without you, or at least taking in your scent.”

“You are going to eat me, aren’t you?”

San reaches down and curls a finger under Christopher’s chin now that he’s close enough. Silence settles thickly over them as their gazes lock.

“Would you be upset if I did? Or if I tried to?”

Christopher swallows thickly only for San to lock his fingers around his throat and grip it. That lightness that washed over the mortal’s body before heightens now as oxygen fades from his senses. When San lets go, his smile is incredibly wide and Christopher is very sure he has teeth that could easily tear through his flesh if San just up and made that choice. The thing is that Christopher has asked a couple of times about being eaten but, even being this close, he doesn’t feel like he means it literally. He’s asking because he can feel deep inside that San can devour another part of him, some part attached to his soul or something.

San’s thumb traces over the other’s bottom lip and his gaze grows dark, determined.

“I won’t eat you alive,” he finally answers, focused on Christopher’s lips before finally dragging his gaze back up to meet his eyes, “Though it would be easy for me to, I don’t want to. I wouldn’t be able to play with you more than once if I just devoured you. Literally, anyway.”

“Don’t talk in riddles.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” San slides down from the window, standing in front of the male now, the latter still on his knees, “Rules says I have to wait until I have a proper answer from you.”

“What if I change my mind? What if I say ‘no’ first?”

The blond raises a brow, “Are you asking if you’d be able to find me again if you change your mind?”

Christopher just nods and San scoffs, shaking his head.

“You’re drawing this out and I’d rather you not,” he grabs the hair at the back of the other’s head, tilting his head back some, and keeps his gaze locked directly with Christopher’s, “I told you I’d bring you back if you change your mind, didn’t I? I prefer my prey to be willing.”

“I...”

“I’m not explaining what I mean. Take it how you want,” San answers with a bit of bite, getting agitated now.

Christopher swallows and all he can end up getting out is a choked “Yes.”

“Good,” San answers, biting into his own bottom lip with those sharp daggers for teeth until he breaks the skin.

Christopher expects it to just be blood but it’s something different. It’s red but very dark red and it glistens just like the rest of him still is. All he hears is “brace yourself” with a low chuckle before San’s lips meet his own. The taste that coats his tongue from San’s lips leans sweet, like a dessert that’s both savory and sweet. His vision blurs more as the stranger pulls away but it’s no longer dark around the edges but instead pink and rosy with a shimmer similar to glitter hiding in it. He’s still in his room but it feels more like a dream now.

Focusing on San, Christopher brings up a hand to grab at him, his fingers curling into the fabric of the blouse. San the other’s hair and then helps him up, wrapping an arm around his waist to help keep him steady. Christopher’s head drops to San’s shoulder, feeling as though he doesn’t have control of his body although he’s very much conscious. He wraps both of his arms around San’s lithe waist and holds him tightly.

“Are you a demon or something?”

“Considering you’re an angel, you should believe in them, right?”

“M--Mm--!?” The sound is shaky, a stutter.

San hums low and long, stroking Christopher’s side before cradling the back of his head, “You can only mask yourself with other humans. I knew that smell of yours was familiar. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.”

“I’m going to die...”

“Oh, no, not at all. Not by my hands anyway,” he whispers right against the shell of Christopher’s ear, “I told you I wanted to play with you and you’ve taken up my offer. So, we’re going to have some fun together.”

Christopher finally leans away and looks San in his eyes, trying to understand how there’s a shimmer even in his eyes that matches his skin.

“And now that you have me in your system, you’ll be much easier to find,” the blond smirks at him before over his own lips, “No, it will not turn you into anything. I haven’t done anything that’ll affect your blood.”

Christopher looks away for a moment, feeling embarrassed for some reason that the thought even crossed his mind. His focus returns to his guest as San starts backing him up toward the bed. He pushes at Christopher’s chest and said male falls onto his back onto the sheets. San soon ghosts over him, gripping his chin and then sliding his hand down to grip his throat again. He whispers in his ear as his grip tightens, the rose-colored world fading around Christopher before it’s entirely black.

When he opens his eyes again, he rises with a jolt, gasping and desperately drawing air into his lungs. Looking around the room, he’s alone and it’s both a relief and a concern.

That was a dream?

That vivid though?

A chill runs through the room and Christopher notices the window is open so he climbs out of bed to go close it. He sighs and ruffles his hair, checking the time. He could sleep some more but he’ll have to be up again in a couple of hours anyway to get to work so he decides to at least wash up and get himself some breakfast with the time.

Stripping down to get a quick shower, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink but also in the door-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. His fingers go to his neck where a handprint still resides like a tattoo. As his hand tries to copy the print, he hears San’s voice in his ear, whispering what he’d heard him say before he woke up.

Sweet dreams. I can’t wait to play with you more, angel.