Angel's Kisses

>eight

Jeno sighs.

"I told you to buy a new latch."

"What's the point? You would've broken that one too anyway." Jaemin grumbles, watching with irritation in his eyes as Jeno climbs through his kitchen window, yet again. "I know for a fact you know how to use the door, so I'm failing understand why you don't."

"Where's the fun?"

"Why is fun valued more than my latches—"

"Jaemin. Do you always talk this much?"

Jeno is standing in front of Jaemin, where the other is sitting on a barstool. He had been reading a magazine and eating chocolate, but now Jeno is standing in front of him like he was welcome in Jaemin's home.

"Does it matter? What do you want?" Jaemin admits that he's being rude, but this is the third time that Jeno has broken into his house via the same damn kitchen window. A voice in the back of his head nags at him reminds him that anger is a secondary emotion, and Jaemin lets it stay at the back of his mind. He doesn't want to think about those implications.

Jeno doesn't answer Jaemin's question, simply walks deeper into the kitchen and takes a seat on a barstool next to the other. He eyes the bowl of chocolate bark, and despite not liking overly sweet things, he takes a piece and eats it.

Surprisingly, it's bitter.

Extremely bitter.

The way Jeno likes it.

"Dark chocolate?" Jeno questions, cocking an eyebrow up. He doesn't know much about angels, obviously, but ever since this whole ordeal had taken place, he's picked up a thing or two about angels through the extensive research Renjun does to help him. One thing is that they prefer sweet things. Not all, but the vast majority.

"I don't like sweets," Jaemin easily answers, shrugging. "Now tell me why you're here."

"You're weird," Jeno sighs out instead, resting his head on his hand as he perches his elbow on the counter. "And pretty."

"Jeno!" Jaemin barks, glaring at him with renowned intensity. "Why. Are. You. Here?"

"Okay Jaemin," Jeno grins, and he looks stupidly cocky if Jaemin's being honest. "I think you know how I died."

Jaemin snorts.

"I do not. Jisung is the one who's known you before death, not me," Jaemin reminds him, talking matter of factly. "I didn't have a clue who you were until you came in through my window the first day."

Jeno doesn't let the grin slip off of his lips, but his eyes do irk a bit with frustration.

"You know something," he mutters, looking into Jaemin's eyes with such intensity that it makes Jaemin squirm a bit uncomfortably in his stool.

"I don't know a thing—"

"That's the problem!" Jeno exclaims, suddenly sitting up straight and turning to completely face Jeno. "You're supposed to remember Jaemin, the problem is that you don't. No creature isn't supposed to know."

"You don't remember anything either!" Jaemin argues back.

"It's simple because of that, isn't it? We're anomalies in Heaven and Hell, Jaemin. I know something about you. You know something about me."

"I do not!"

"You do, you just don't know it," Jeno growls, seeming to grow more and more frustrated with the repetition of the conversation. "I know something, you know something, Jisung knows something."

"Don't drag Jisung into this," Jaemin snarls. "He doesn't know anything."

"And you say that with what confidence, Jaemin?" Jeno smirks, leaning in closer into Jaemin's space. "What makes you so sure he's clueless?"

"He doesn't lie to me," the other states proudly, chin held up high at the statement. "He wouldn't lie to me."

Jeno's smirk seems to deepen, and it stirs up something ugly inside Jaemin's stomach.

"Oh, you poor little thing," he coos mockingly, tilting his head to one side as he continues to look at Jaemin. "I think Park's hiding something from you."

"He wouldn't," Jaemin immediately denies, shaking his head and looking anywhere but the stupidly handsome face in front of him right now. "I can't trust you."

"No?" Jeno questions. "I like to think you're rather fond of me."

"I'm not," Jaemin bites, turning his body away so that he was focused on something else.

"You acknowledged me stalking you."

"No I didn't."

"You weren't scared of me when I first broke in."

"I have nothing to fear."

"You didn't buy a new latch because you liked me coming over. Also, you're lying about not acknowledging me. You liked my attention, didn't you?"

"I did not."

"Yes you did, you're an awful liar, Jaemin. You probably found it thrilling, to know someone took an interest in you after being neglected all these years."

Jeno doesn't know why seeing Jaemin flinch excites him so much.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Jaemin spits, trying his best to not let it show that Jeno is getting under his skin.

He doesn't know how Jeno knows this vulnerable thing about him, but he has a feeling that it could've come with years and years of stalking.

In a sickening way, Jaemin realizes it doesn't bother him that much.

"But I do know. Sweet little angel Na Jaemin, God's least favourite."

Jaemin feels his breath catch in his throat. Out of his peripheral, he can see Jeno's smirk widen, and he hates that he's fuelling his ego. 

"You don't know anything," he insists, mentally kicking himself for letting his voice come out weaker than he wanted it to. "Stop saying dumb stuff."

"It's not dumb, pretty boy. God hates you and you don't understand why. You've been treated unfairly since you've entered Heaven, and you're frustrated, aren't you?" Jeno asks, his voice dropping lower and lower. With every sentence, Jeno is moving closer to the other's side, until he's whispering in his ear. "Just say you hate Him."

Jaemin squeezes his eyes shut, as if that'd help him tune out Jeno's voice. He shakes his head.

"I don't." He insists.

"Don't lie to yourself Jaemin. You hate what He's done to you, how He makes you live so miserably." Jeno continues to taunt him.

"He let me live again in the afterlife, I'm eternally grateful." Jaemin grits out, finally opening his eyes again and turning to look at Jeno. Their faces are close together, given how Jeno had already been close. "You're a demon, you're supposed to coerce me. And it's not gonna work."

"Sweetheart, I'm not coercing you into anything," Jeno hums, bringing you one hand to press his thumb on the crease between his eyebrows. Jaemin tries to ignore how the nickname made his heart skip a beat. "I'm just reminding you of something you won't admit." 

"You're wrong," Jaemin whispers, suddenly aware of their close proximity, and the weight of Jeno's thumb. "You don't know anything."

"I'm afraid you're the one who doesn't know anything, darling," Jeno tsks, letting his hand slide down from his forehead to his jaw, holding his pretty face delicately. "To think I'd be able to hold this face after decades of following it around." He murmurs, almost in awe of what he's able to do. "To think you'd let me."

Jaemin understands what Jeno means with his words, but he can't bring himself to jerk away from the horrendously familiar touch. To tell Jeno to let go, because it's not that he doesn't like it.

And that feeling, whatever Jeno is making him feel right now, is ten times scarier than anything Jeno could say.