Jaemin's life is an absolute wreck. A college drop out overtaken by drugs and has no purpose in life.
That is until a particular sadistic angel is sent his way.
***this is part of a mini series. there will be multiple parts for this!
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Jaemin is a wreck.
Ask anybody in his life, and they will tell you exactly how it is. A broke college drop out with no life or job, or a will to live for that matter.
But fuck them, because they never gave a shit about Jaemin in the first place.
No one knows a single thing in Jaemin's mind. Not even Jaemin himself.
━
The alleyway is damp and dark. Murky puddles of water mixed with fluids of who knows what splash against his feet, sodding his new sneakers. That was the least of the boys' problems though. It was empty for the most part, because who in their right mind would be up at three in the morning in this part of town?
His brown leather jacket was crinkling with age and his raven hair fell into dark eyes as they scanned the passageway, waiting for any signal of life. Heart pounding against his chest, a sharp fifty-dollar bill crumbled in his fist.
At the end of the street, shadows and footsteps padded against the fractured asphalt. Hoods covered their features, but none of that mattered. Jaemin just needed his fix and then he'd leave, no questions asked.
"Is that really a good idea?" A pitched voice asked.
Jaemin sucked in a shocked breath and tilted his head over his left shoulder. Still, he made sure to keep the approaching men in his peripheral vision. Brown eyes widened almost comically at the sight behind him.
There stood a man with heaven-like beauty. His tan skin set a stark contrast against the half-moon. Deep, dark eyes bored into his, a single eyebrow twitched upwards like he had the audacity to judge Jaemin. Soft honey strands hung over his forehead. He was dressed in a sheer white button up shirt, one that was much too large for him and exposed his protruding collarbones. They glistened under the moonlight, and so did the flick of his tongue, exposing the tip of his canine under his smirk.
Somehow, he mixed predatory desire with naïve innocence.
"Who are you?" Jaemin asked, cringing at the voice crack.
The man bent at the knees, bowing gracefully before looking under the strands of his hair. "Lee Donghyuck. I wish I could be meeting you under better circumstances, Na Jaemin."
Jaemin gasped and took a step back. "How do you-"
"Oi, kid," the raven haired turns around swiftly. "You got the money or not?"
