[ This was not a good idea. Repeated in his mind for the 20th time since he decided to do this but it was too late now. He had followed the instructions, cleared off a table in his research room and locked the door so his twin would never find out. He had spent his life trying to research a scientific way to get rid of this side of him that he didn't want to exist but sometimes supernatural issues needed supernatural resolutions.
At least, that's what he kept telling himself.
The instructions seemed pretty easy so just follow them step by step. Just like cooking, right?
Ignoring the fact the last time he cooked something he almost gave himself food poisoning.
But anyway. He's going to take a deep breath and follow eat step in this old book he found until at the end of all this, someone will come and grant him a future free of this mutant body he was born into. ]
[ Of fucking course he gets summoned in the middle of a nap, of course. One minute Rook is curled up in his bed ( the most comfortable bed in the fucking universe, thank you very much) enjoying blissful non-existence, the next he is barefoot and shirtless in a fucking lab with the worst case of bedhead and his head still spinning. He fucking hates being summoned, not just because he has no damned choice about going or not, but for some reason he always felt sick whenever he got where he was going. Like he had been on a fucking spinning ride.
Whining, Rook rubs at his face and tries to run his fingers through his hair (it does nothing but make the mess that is his hair worse) before putting his hands on his hips and trying to look as unimpressed as possible while he seeks out whomever work him up (really, he just looks like a disgruntled puppy). It takes a moment, but eventually his sleepy gaze settles on the man with the book before him and a concentrated look on his face.
Rook's first thought is 'oh at least he's cute', followed promptly by 'why the fuck is he summoning a demon of lust, what'.
He supposes that he will find out.
Keeping his influence under wraps for the moment (he learned the hard way not to slam into unknown rooms with that cranked up to ten), Rook moves over to the desk and climbs on top of it, sitting facing the guy and leans against him a little bit. Hope you didn't want personal space there, darling.]
You could've at least summoned me to a room with a bed, you know. You don't look like the 'fuck me on the table' type.
[ This definitely wasn't what the little book had described would happen and he was definitely sure that he followed each step and each ingredient down to the letter. Snow is rather urgently reading over the steps again and trying to figure out if he had gotten anything wrong when he realizes that...whatever/whoever he has summoned appears to be making himself comfortable.
But, well, shouldn't judge a book by it's cover. Right? Right. ]
F-fuck me on the..table type?!
[ There was almost a surprised squeak in his voice at that idea. And a room with a bed? Things were definitely not adding up here and he takes a tentative step back to regain his personal space. ]
I was hoping to get some help turning into a normal person not...
[ ..whatever the heck he was being told about right now?! ]
[ The sea called to Kai often, singing along in his veins, invoking such a strong longing within him. The whisper of the waves crashing, the rise and fall which always made sense no matter what. He moved along the water and felt a freedom he never experienced on dry land, at least until a twist of fate happened and turned everything upside down.
Rook surged into his life, an unstoppable force to wreck everything he built around himself. Eroding the edges until the top tides pulled him closer and closer. But it stung all the same, a yearning of which could never be. There were moments he thought maybe but in the end he had to drift away from the feelings.
Or so he thought.
Singing along to the radio, since no one was home yet, he moved around the kitchen happily making dinner. He wanted something special to distract himself from what he wishes he could have.
As he put the vegetables into the stew, he paused when he heard a knock on the door. He ran to answer it, laughing at who he saw standing there. ]
Rook, since when do you use a door? Usually, you just pop into my bed. But come in. I'm making stew if you want any. It takes like hours to make and is worth every second.
..... so APPARENTLY THIS WAS A THING I NEVER REPLIED TO???! for shame.
[ Rook has lived for centuries. millennia. has seen the rise and fall of empires, watched wars fade from notes of history despite the blood spilled, and flitted in and out of the beds of some of the worlds most notorious lovers. he has lived (once upon a time, as a human, though he can't remember that time at all) and loved (he is sure of it, knows that there is room for that elusive emotion in the hollowness that is his chest) and lost (so much, lost his name and his history, himself and the reason for his punishment). and, before this, Rook was so very sure that he had seen it all, done it all in a sense.
and then he met Kai.
or perhaps he drowned in Kai, that might be a more apt understanding of what happened. one moment Rook was fine, existing within the confines of his being, seducing and 'loving' the most physical of a sense, the next he was caught in a riptide of laughter like the beach at midnight and smiles that reminded him of the brilliance of the sun over Byzantium.
Kai made him feel something again.
it was a flicker of a thing in his chest, painful really, and usually when the demon came across that feeling he turned and fled. there was no reason sticking around to watch something he loved not love him in return (they never did, how could they? he was a demon, he was damned and damaged, no heart in his chest to love with). and yet-- he continued to come back to Kai. continued to visit the lighthouse, let himself be drawn in despite how much he knew it would hurt.
until he found an answer.
Rook was human once, which meant that somewhere in his bones lived a human soul and, no matter what he might have done to deserve the punishment of becoming a demon, there were ways to give him back his humanity. there were ways to remind his body, his being, what he was at its core. ways to strip away the Cardinal and the sin to let him live as a mortal once again.
at a price, of course.
not that Rook cared about that, even a little. he already lost his soul, what could be worse? so Rook wishes, wishes and gets his wish and lets the Cardinal of Lust burn out whatever was left of his soul and burn away the immortality he was given, leaving a mortal behind with the memories of the last two thousand years and a heart in his chest that could love.
which is what brings him to Kai's doorstep now, knocking with trembling hands on the door of the being that made him give up everything for a chance he wasn't even sure he had.
as the door opens, Rook inhales sharply, steeling himself to smile and charm, to be who he had been the last two millennia, but-- when he sees Kai there, laughing and brilliant, it all falls away. waves upon the rocks and all that.
instead, he stands there, mouth hanging open slightly, before--]
I'm human.
[no hello, no charm or quiet flirtations. just the truth, harsh and jarring in the space between them.
Rook doesn't even take a step in, too afraid that Kai might slam the door in his face. ]
[ With Rook, he knew to expect the unexpected and to not anticipate what could happen from one second to the next. A very different atmosphere for someone who tended to have a day planner and a bullet journal to keep track of everything he needed to handle - his father's grief, his grandmother's health, all his cousins school and activities then everything with the shop. Being a small business owner took a lot of hard work and not saying no very easily used up a lot of his magic reserve creating wards and the like mostly.
But he enjoyed taking care of others and being depended on since it made him feel useful and important. The type of person who needed to be needed defined Kai really well. He just did not often have someone do something for him. There were not any grand gestures in his life until right then apparently.
Mouth gaping wide, Kai's ladle slipped right from his hands and rattled against the floor. Had he fallen asleep for a moment there? No. It couldn't be but he remembered all too well the disagreements they had on what Rook could offer him and what they could be.
I'm not human! I don't have a heart to give you!
Phrases he heard far too much but never this.
Stepping back, he reached out to pull Rook inside and slam the door behind them. ]
Rook - what do you mean - don't joke. You know that's not - don't joke about that, please.
[ His wide eyes regarded him and he couldn't help but to reach out and cup Rook's cheek. ]
[ It had been a day or two since the incident, and while the anger and rage had finally started to quell, there were still residual aches that plagued Jae's heart, as cheesy as it sounded. Flashes of memories of his conversations with the reaper, how they would joke and talk before and even after his resurrection as a demon.
Then again, he knew that this was part of how he grieved. Becoming a demon didn't change that much in that regard.
But he also knew he needed to move on. He had taken to teleporting around the world to make sure that he wasn't as easily traced during his destructive streaks, but now that it seems to have calmed down, he needs to return. He had been neglecting his phone during this time, having shut it off and leaving it back at his apartment in Seoul - he was afraid that talking to others might have set him off further. But now...
A flash and a puff of smoke later, he's back in the apartment, turning his phone on finally while he cleaned himself up. At this point, he had finally willed away all of his demonic traits - minus his horns. For some reason, it felt better to let them stay for the time being, he wasn't going to go out into the public eye anytime soon anyway.
Once he finished cleaning up, he swipes away any message notifications, focusing on texting one singular contact in particular. ]
I'm back in Seoul. I apologize if I worried you, love. Can I see you yet today?
[ it has only been two days since he has heard from Jae, not even a full forty-eight hours but-- fuck, Rook couldn't shake the feeling in his gut that there was something very very wrong with everything. Rook didn't keep up with a lot of the on goings with Hell, tried to stay away from most of the other demons (especially demons of Envy and Pride that liked to taunt him) and keep himself out of the loop if only for his own sanity. besides, it was hard to do his 'job' when he was tangled up in politics and petty feuds.
still, that didn't seem to stop the whispers about things going awry from making their way to him anyway.
nothing that was... solid. no names, no details, just the vague whispers and the twisting feeling in his gut.
well that and the fact that Jae wasn't at his apartment, wasn't at any of his usual haunts, and wasn't answering his phones.
but no, Rook wasn't worried at all.
so when the text comes through, Rook swears that he can feel himself breathe again. his response is nearly instant.]
[ He wouldn't be proud of what he's done - honestly it felt more akin to a child's temper tantrum than anything else, just escalating the stakes a bit - but it was about the only way that Jae knew he was going to be able to work through the anger that had lingered in his heart after Haruto's death. Never mind the guilt that plagued him due to how he was forced to kill a close friend to keep them from doing more that they would regret.
There's a small, sad smile that flickers on his face at how quickly Rook responds to the initial text. ]
[two days after his encounter with leviathan, jiho's up and on his feet again. it's partly because levi was just playing with him more than anything, but it's an equal part his own stubbornness. he still fumes every time he thinks about him, to the point where jiho needs to get out. his back and shoulder are still sore, but kwang's stitching is just as good the second time around. the claw wounds won't reopen.
he knows there's a real possibility of rook following him, so he does his best to ninja in and out of the shadows, never able to vanish for very long at one time. hopefully being small and quick and dressed in all black, hood up, works in his favor.
it's a little while later when he sends the demon a text, telling him to come, and quickly, and possibly giving him his second heart attack this week. when he comes to him, it's somewhere dark, with only a candle lighting up the corner.
jiho is sitting in the booth, hoodie removed to reveal the nicer shirt that he was wearing underneath. he lifts his eyes to rook's a little uncertainly.]
I didn't know what you like, so I just ordered four different things. Pasta is pasta, right?
[ Rook shadowing Jiho isn't actually something that is new to him, he has done it before and will continue to do it until Jiho tells him to stop (he knows that the assassin is aware of him but, Rook is sure that as long as he doesn't get in the way all is fine). the demon just-- likes to know that if a distraction is needed, or help for that matter, that he is at least aware of where Jiho is.
it has nothing to do with the fondness that he has for the pink haired assassin at all. or how much Rook hates seeing him hurt. nope, nothing at all.
and so if he is following a little closer after the whole Leviathan incident well-- not worry. not even a bit.
except that it is and Rook blinks for half a second and he totally loses Jiho and fucking fuck how does he move so fast? the demon is talking himself down from just reverse engineering a summoning spell when he gets a text from a number he knows and he thinks to breathe and--
fuck, that text that makes his ribcage feel like it's caving in and ohshitohshitohshit.
Rook appears in a instant, ash on the floor and in his hair, eyes goldbright and wild as he looks around, coiled and ready for anything-- or what he thought was anything. because Jiho isn't hurt. he is-- he is--
fuck. he is a stupidly gorgeous idiotic assassin that Rook both wants to kiss and strangle a little right now. the demon deflates a little, breath coming out of him in a ragged laugh as he moves towards the booth and tries to knock the ash out of his hair.]
I can't believe-- you-- fuck, Jiho, you are something else.[ he means it fondly, as can be seen in the way he smiles, something soft in the candle light as he slides into the booth.] A warning about appropriate attire would have been nice, it's only happenstance that I'm wearing a shirt right now, Candy crush.
[he doesn't like it when people worry about him. it feels like he's setting them up for heartbreak, because some nights jiho goes out and he's not leading rook to a restaurant. and sometimes he does stupid things like attack a demon without knowing anything about them (something that he's done twice, no less.) but that whole idea that he could prevent it by keeping his distance didn't work out so well.
even if he told rook to stop, to stay home, it wouldn't do any good now. he would still worry for his sake. so the least jiho can do is lead him somewhere every once and awhile where he doesn't have to worry about him. he likes this look on him much better than worry - well, after those initial moments of worry pass, once rook has realized where he is and what jiho has done. it's kind of nice to catch someone off guard without a blade at the ready.]
I told you to wear whatever you want. The place is ours tonight. [the owner has a daughter and the daughter has an abusive ex. or had. and as a result, they get to have a nice dinner together. romantic, even, though thinking of it that way still makes jiho feel a little panicked, makes him wonder if he can slide under the table and suck him off instead of expressing it. but no, this is about rook, and ironically he thinks the demon of lust appreciates this sort of thing more.] This is to thank you for everything you've done for me.
[he reaches for his glass of water, but doesn't take a drink until after his next words.]
And...because watching me read in my room must be a boring date.
[there were plenty of times in the past when jiho would wake up to find rook's side of the bed empty, or the demon would be there one moment and gone the next. he didn't give it too much thought. he just assumed that rook wanted a change of scenery for his napping, or jut got bored of watching jiho read his book while fighting his feelings.
he knows the truth now, realized it one night when rook went from all bright smiles to a look of disappointment and a whispered apology before he left ash against the fingers that had just been touching his hair. the nail is driven even deeper the second time, when rook comes back with marks on his body, when he promised jiho that it didn't hurt but had trouble meeting the assassin's eyes.
jiho, like everyone, had assumed things. he knows better now, and one of the pains of caring for someone is that when they hurt, you hurt. even the times when he returns quickly, and unbothered, he's still too often pulled away in the middle of a story or a smile. he has no control over it, and jiho will never fault it for him.
he knits while he's gone, trying not to fume, trying not to worry. the blanket gets longer, and jiho's skill gets better, until one day rook returns and can crawl underneath it with him, jiho pulling it up over their heads. he touches the demon's face in the semi-darkness, trying to express so many things with soft touches of his lips: i'm glad you're back. i'm glad you're okay. sometimes it seems to take rook a little time to ground himself back into this, something soft that doesn't make demands of his body. which makes jiho hesitant to even ask, but he wants to know.]
[ for the longest time, Rook tried to hide the fact that he was summoned place. and not just from Jiho, from everyone. the demon did a lot to make sure that the people in this house didn't see the more demonic side of him, that he kept his Cardinal under control and spent more time sequestered away and sleeping than antyhing else. but then-- then Jiho happened and suddenly Rook wasn't alone nearly as often and he didn't want to be alone and--
well, he couldn't stop being summoned, no matter how much he might want to. if he could make it so he could ignore the pull, the call, he would stay curled up around Jiho for the rest of time.
but he can't, so he just apologizes for having to leave and vows to never talk about what happens when he is away. which is hard on the few times when marks linger, when the person who summoned him lusted for pain and Rook, being what he is, had to give it. still, Rook doesn't talk about it. wishes that Jiho didn't have to see the lingering scars, because he knows that it bothers him. it never bothered Rook either, at least not until Jiho.
Rook was starting to think of things in terms of 'Before Jiho' and 'After Jiho'. he likes the latter, because it is warm blankets and soft laughter, dry read alouds of his newest book, and mock sword fights with knitting needles.
it's home.
sinking into the touch beneath the blankets, Rook can feel any lingering tension seep out of him, wraps around Jiho like a lifeline and buries his face against the curve of his neck. safe. peaceful.
so needless to say the question, no matter how soft, throws him for a loop. Rook freezes against Jiho, eyes snapping open in the twilight as he processes the question.]
Wh-- I mean, you need the ritual spell. My demonic name, some blood, a black candle but-- [ Rook shifts doesn't pull away, but pulls his head back enough to see Jiho.] Why?
[before rook and after rook. jiho could think that way too, the demon having turned him upside down and shook him, until his heart and all his feelings fell on the floor at rook's feet. he's happier than he's been in...probably ever. which only makes the ache that he feels at rook's situation even more profound.
he can deal with it though. this isn't enough to chase him away, he won't be chased away. but if he can help...
black candles are easy to come back in this house. so is a little bit of blood. jiho's eyes are steady as rook looks up at him, the assassin's hand gentle as it continues stroking his hair.]
Could I pull you back? If someone takes you away, can I summon you back here again? Back to me.
[the last time that swamp house came to the beach was wasted on jiho. he never even went into the water, just sat high up on the beach wearing all black and occasionally yelling 'shark' just to see if anyone at all was alert to the danger.
this time it's just them, a last chance before the weather turned too cold. the assassin is wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans, because today he's not an assassin. ...even if he does write a list of names in the sand. rook just laughs and kicks a bare foot over it before picking him up and threatening to walk into the oean with him.
jiho makes him put him down, but there's an air of mischief about him that belies his spoilsport protests. he glances around once, quickly, and then fixes his gaze on the demon as he strips off his shirt. his hands go to the front of his jeans next.]
[ beaches aren't a new experience for Rook, he has seen many in his millenias upon the earth, but this is the first time that he has really had time to enjoy it. or maybe not the time but the company to enjoy it. he and Jiho go out on their own, small bag packed with snacks and water (juice too, and a thermos of tea that Rook got spelled to stay warm), both dressed in simple clothes and an easy air. it is- freeing being with Jiho like this. just the two of them and the vastness of the ocean before them.
Rook laughs as he holds Jiho close, makes sure to drag his foot through the list of names and has every intention of walking them both into the surf, if only to keep Jiho's mind off of work for a little while longer. he relents though when Jiho turns that look on him, something brooking no argument, but Rook doesn't really have time to sulk (or pout) because in the next moment, Jiho is looking around with a sly smile on his lips that makes Rook's breath catch and then--
it takes a moment for Rook to focus on what is being said and not just stare. he can't help it, Jiho is beautiful and, even with them more or less sharing the same room, Rook really only sees the other when he is helping patch him up from injuries (usually from taking on people he should leave alone but-- whatever).
the demon shakes his head before tugging off his own plain black shirt, smile nearly blinding has he throws it at Jiho with a laugh.]
Do I? Last one in has to forfeit Minsu's dessert for a week!
[rook is beautiful. jiho can see and appreciate that, even if he doesn't think anything will ever match his smile. the pull of the demon's lips and the light that shines in his eyes with it...does things to him.
he's seen most of his body. ironically more when they first met than in the past weeks. this is a line he's okay crossing with him. honestly, he'd be okay crossing others with him too. rook is learning him more and more every day, understands that jiho's threads of lust or lack thereof aren't a reflection of any shortcomings in him. jiho isn't sure that anyone else would understand that. but there's a middle ground where their desires can meet.
he catches rook's shirt with a laugh, dropping it alongside his own shirt before he finishes undressing. his body is pale and slender, beautiful in its own way and far from what one would imagine the build of an assassin to be. that's worked in his favor more than once.
so has his speed, which he streaks into the shallows with.]
[there are still times when jiho leaves the house for a few hours at a time. not nearly as much as he used to. there are even times like this one when he (gasp) goes out during the light of day, often returning with a new book or some new tea. yarn. a scented candle....
fuck. this really is who he is now.
he returns with all of those things today, along with a new secret under his hoodie. he doesn't bother calling out for rook when he returns. he can hear the shower running. sometimes rook takes them because, like anyone, he enjoys a nice leisurely shower. sometimes he has other reasons.
jiho feels guilty for leaving at all then. rook taught him his summoning, and while the assassin hasn't used it yet, he's ready. he's never seen the rook who will return to him then, but jiho knows his strengths, knows himself. he'll be able to handle it.
he toes off his converse, pulling his hoodie off with a grimace before shimmying out of the skinny jeans and going to join him under the spray of water. this is the kind of intimacy that jiho always avoided before, would fuck to put up a wall against it. but goddamn if he doesn't enjoy the feeling of soap and rooks fingers in his hair, or sliding his hands over the other's damp skin. he steps into the shower behind him, favoring his left shoulder against the spray. that's where the brand is, the symbol for rook's demonic name angry and red on his pale skin.
jiho steps closer behind him, pressing a kiss between the demon's shoulder blades.]
It's up to you to keep me warm if the hot water runs out.
[ there are moments when Rook is completely terrified by the emotions that bubble up in his chest, that curl around his spine and make a home in his bones, when he thinks about Jiho. there is something almost warning when he feels those bursts of happiness because this is too good, too much, for a creature like him. he is not enough for this, for Jiho, even when the other tells him over and over (proves to him over and over) that it is. Jiho accepts him, fucking loves him and everything that he is, despite the gilded collar around Rook's neck. despite the fact that Rook can never be faithful.
despite the fact that Rook will always have to answer the call of a summoning no matter how much he wants to stay.
today was one of those days, where he was completely floored by the luck, the love, that he found. that he had. Jiho had left him a post it note on the pillow, a heart and a scribble of 'love you' that Rook is going to put in a goddamned frame in the Louvre if he can thank you very much. he has plans to spend the morning lounging around, maybe going to ask Minsu how to make something like strawberry shortcake cupcakes for Jiho. he manages the first but--
the second in interrupted by the weird tug in his gut, the curling and prickling feeling of being summoned but-- it never fully manifests. it ends up being an itch beneath Rook's skin for the morning, pulls his concentration away from Minsu's easy words and bright smile (understanding when Rook shakes his head and apologizes, says he will try again tomorrow). ends with Rook in the shower with flickers of gold beneath his skin and a pull to his lips as he tries to ignore the feeling.
which is where Jiho find him, standing under the warm water as if that might wash the feeling away.
(it doesn't, doesn't even come close. but the kiss between his shoulder blades? that feels like absolution.)]
Mmm, I think I can handle that should the need arise. [ leaning back a little Rook hums and moves his hands over Jiho's, tangling their fingers together. the other being close to him has him melting a little, has the tension that was under his skin slipping away.
Rook tips his head to the side, smiles over his shoulder at Jiho.] Find the yarn you were looking for, darling?
[ give him a moment to figure something is off, that his bones are shaking in the confines of his skin not because he is in love but because his name, his true name, is right there, etched with life and blood into skin.]
You sound so confident. Better tug on those threads a little harder.
[jiho smirks but also means it, because he trusts rook in all things. it still amazes him to think of the many months ago when they used to meet up in the kitchen, each one trying to figure the other one out. he thinks they both probably realized that there was something between them back then. it just wasn't something that either of them was familiar with, and so it took time to decipher.
he presses his lips lightly against the demon's skin and just lets them rest there. he still hasn't figured him out completely. rook's smile is still a mystery, at least when it's given so warmly and frequently to someone like him. the way that rook loves him is the real puzzle, but one that jiho wouldn't mind taking the rest of his life to figure out.
jiho sighs at the question, tipping his head forward so that his forehead presses against rook instead.]
Fuck, no. I don't even know what kind I need now, apparently yarn is not just yarn and can come from all sorts of sheep and alpaca and fucking...wombats.
[this little bit of frustration probably paints a clear picture for rook by now, one where the little pink-haired assassin stands in a craft shop, taking turns between scowling at a huge wall of yarn and the grandmother who's trying to educate him on it.
jiho lifts his head, looking up suddenly before rubbing a hand down rook's back. his skin feels warm, the water is still warm, but he could've sworn that he felt a shiver going through him.]
You okay? Do I need to be the one keeping you warm? All except about eight inches, anyway.
[ There are a lot of beings out there that Minjun has been tasked with keeping an eye on. From sirens singing in busy ports to gnomes just trying not to be turned into lawn ornaments, he has a lot on his plate. But sometimes he takes on a project that's just for him, keeps a person a secret from those who control him. Minjun still keeps tabs on them himself but he does so in his free time--or what little of it he has, anyway.
He forgets where he first ran into Rook, but he's kept an eye on him ever since. There's a charm to the demon that goes beyond what he's so naturally able to do; part of it is just how unlike any other demon Minjun has had the misfortune to deal with he is. A strangely... sweet secret? It's odd.
There are bags in his hands when he shows up at Rook's place, filled with a bunch of ingredients he picked up on his way over. His hand lifts to knock when he pauses and promptly searches out the spare key to just unlock the door himself. Easier. Plus, he had sent a message already that he was coming over, so at least it's not a surprise.
Minjun toes his shoes off once he's inside and locks the door back up behind him. ]
[ Comfort. That was what Rook sought out more often than not, when he wasn't being tugged here and there over the Earth by mortals that knew how to summon him, or curled at the feet of Belial in Hell. Warm and simple comfort. You could see it in the way he decorated his apartment, in the simple colours of blue and grey of the walls, in the piles of soft pillows and blankets heaped on every surface, in the abundance of well worn books that dotted every surface. In how there wasn't a single pair of matching plates or mugs in his kitchen (not that he had many plates to begin with, he rarely had more than two people over at any given time).
Most would think that a demon of lust would have crafted a place that spoke of want and desire, reds and golds and deep indigo, but-- not Rook. He got enough of that, thank you. This was his place and he wanted none of that here. This was sanctuary. Safe. Home.
The demon has just just made his way back, left a dusting of ash on the front hall carpet, half an hour before Minjun shows up, the text the other sent as a warning still unread on his phone in the bedroom. Rook has a ritual when he comes back, from anywhere really, a really long hot shower that would probably boil a human, followed by his favourite tea wrapped up in a blanket on the couch while he either watched a silly romance show, or reads a book.
He has managed step one when he hears a voice in the apartment.
Padding down the hall with damp hair, an oversized white sweater and track pants, Rook blinks a few times at Minjun before he breaks out into a smile, wide and bright, making his way over to take some of the bags.]
Minnie! What a wonderful surprise. [ Even if you tried to make it not a surprise, honestly, this just made Rook's night so much better.] Do you actually have free time for once?
[ gil likes earth. he enjoys the people and what they can do for him and how fun and varied it all is. hell is too much, too political, too many people fighting and struggling for just a little more power over everyone else and it's boring. so he doesn't like to go back, not much, but every now and then--
well. he's heard there's been an actual major shift to the hierarchy down there. he supposes maybe it's time to go back for a little visit. pay homage and what have you. it's important to at least look like he still cares about the politics.
as soon as he steps through the gate his glamor disappears, horns and tail and wings all reappearing, all just as small as the rest of him but still just as sharp. he lashes out with the tail at someone trying to touch, his nose wrinkling just a bit in their direction. he doesn't have time for the little ones, he's after the big fish.
he knocks, politely, but enters the chambers all the same, gaze darting around with a faint hum. and then they finally land on him and gil just stops moving forward as he lets out a noise of appreciation. ]
[ If you were tell Rook that, by the end of the year, he would have Belial's blood on his hands and their Cardinal thrumming bright and powerful in his bones, he might have broken a rib laughing. He wasn't a violent demon, or a very ambitious one either for that matter, but he did care, a lot, about things that he probably shouldn't. Like -- well, doesn't matter. Point is, Belial is gone (one of the few remaining original Princes, put down by the one they specifically damned, there was some poetic justice in it all) and Rook has taken their place and--
It's a lot.
It's a lot and Rook has come into his own in ways that no one ever thought he would. Sure, deep down there was still something soft about him, something a little more lenient than most other Princes, but he was a lot more. Even before he took the Cardinal, Rook was one of the oldest lust demons. So he has been around the block a few times, and thankfully has more that like him than hate him. That will come in handy.
Still, there were things he was getting used to. Having wings that worked, for one, no longer gilded useless things that hung like weights against his shoulders, but massive black and gold wings that could carry him. Having demons look up to him, seek him out was another. Rook was never one to seclude himself away, even less so now, so he isn't all that surprised when the door to his chamber opens and lets in.... a vaguely familiar incubus.
Rook is curled up in a swath of pillows and silks with what looks to be a book in hand, dressed (barely) in his usual black and gold, white blond hair mussed, looking every bit the Prince of Lust he is supposed to be. Snapping the book shut, Rook laughs and stretches, very aware of the way bronze skin catches in the light of the chambers, before resting his chin on his hand and watches.]
That I am, you're rather pretty yourself, sweetling. What brings you here, hmmm? [ A tip of his head, the arch of his neck, Rook gestures for the incubus to come closer.]
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At least, that's what he kept telling himself.
The instructions seemed pretty easy so just follow them step by step. Just like cooking, right?
Ignoring the fact the last time he cooked something he almost gave himself food poisoning.
But anyway. He's going to take a deep breath and follow eat step in this old book he found until at the end of all this, someone will come and grant him a future free of this mutant body he was born into. ]
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Whining, Rook rubs at his face and tries to run his fingers through his hair (it does nothing but make the mess that is his hair worse) before putting his hands on his hips and trying to look as unimpressed as possible while he seeks out whomever work him up (really, he just looks like a disgruntled puppy). It takes a moment, but eventually his sleepy gaze settles on the man with the book before him and a concentrated look on his face.
Rook's first thought is 'oh at least he's cute', followed promptly by 'why the fuck is he summoning a demon of lust, what'.
He supposes that he will find out.
Keeping his influence under wraps for the moment (he learned the hard way not to slam into unknown rooms with that cranked up to ten), Rook moves over to the desk and climbs on top of it, sitting facing the guy and leans against him a little bit. Hope you didn't want personal space there, darling.]
You could've at least summoned me to a room with a bed, you know. You don't look like the 'fuck me on the table' type.
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But, well, shouldn't judge a book by it's cover. Right? Right. ]
F-fuck me on the..table type?!
[ There was almost a surprised squeak in his voice at that idea. And a room with a bed? Things were definitely not adding up here and he takes a tentative step back to regain his personal space. ]
I was hoping to get some help turning into a normal person not...
[ ..whatever the heck he was being told about right now?! ]
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human au.
Rook surged into his life, an unstoppable force to wreck everything he built around himself. Eroding the edges until the top tides pulled him closer and closer. But it stung all the same, a yearning of which could never be. There were moments he thought maybe but in the end he had to drift away from the feelings.
Or so he thought.
Singing along to the radio, since no one was home yet, he moved around the kitchen happily making dinner. He wanted something special to distract himself from what he wishes he could have.
As he put the vegetables into the stew, he paused when he heard a knock on the door. He ran to answer it, laughing at who he saw standing there. ]
Rook, since when do you use a door? Usually, you just pop into my bed. But come in. I'm making stew if you want any. It takes like hours to make and is worth every second.
..... so APPARENTLY THIS WAS A THING I NEVER REPLIED TO???! for shame.
and then he met Kai.
or perhaps he drowned in Kai, that might be a more apt understanding of what happened. one moment Rook was fine, existing within the confines of his being, seducing and 'loving' the most physical of a sense, the next he was caught in a riptide of laughter like the beach at midnight and smiles that reminded him of the brilliance of the sun over Byzantium.
Kai made him feel something again.
it was a flicker of a thing in his chest, painful really, and usually when the demon came across that feeling he turned and fled. there was no reason sticking around to watch something he loved not love him in return (they never did, how could they? he was a demon, he was damned and damaged, no heart in his chest to love with). and yet-- he continued to come back to Kai. continued to visit the lighthouse, let himself be drawn in despite how much he knew it would hurt.
until he found an answer.
Rook was human once, which meant that somewhere in his bones lived a human soul and, no matter what he might have done to deserve the punishment of becoming a demon, there were ways to give him back his humanity. there were ways to remind his body, his being, what he was at its core. ways to strip away the Cardinal and the sin to let him live as a mortal once again.
at a price, of course.
not that Rook cared about that, even a little. he already lost his soul, what could be worse? so Rook wishes, wishes and gets his wish and lets the Cardinal of Lust burn out whatever was left of his soul and burn away the immortality he was given, leaving a mortal behind with the memories of the last two thousand years and a heart in his chest that could love.
which is what brings him to Kai's doorstep now, knocking with trembling hands on the door of the being that made him give up everything for a chance he wasn't even sure he had.
as the door opens, Rook inhales sharply, steeling himself to smile and charm, to be who he had been the last two millennia, but-- when he sees Kai there, laughing and brilliant, it all falls away. waves upon the rocks and all that.
instead, he stands there, mouth hanging open slightly, before--]
I'm human.
[no hello, no charm or quiet flirtations. just the truth, harsh and jarring in the space between them.
Rook doesn't even take a step in, too afraid that Kai might slam the door in his face. ]
WORTH THE WAIT!!
But he enjoyed taking care of others and being depended on since it made him feel useful and important. The type of person who needed to be needed defined Kai really well. He just did not often have someone do something for him. There were not any grand gestures in his life until right then apparently.
Mouth gaping wide, Kai's ladle slipped right from his hands and rattled against the floor. Had he fallen asleep for a moment there? No. It couldn't be but he remembered all too well the disagreements they had on what Rook could offer him and what they could be.
I'm not human! I don't have a heart to give you!
Phrases he heard far too much but never this.
Stepping back, he reached out to pull Rook inside and slam the door behind them. ]
Rook - what do you mean - don't joke. You know that's not - don't joke about that, please.
[ His wide eyes regarded him and he couldn't help but to reach out and cup Rook's cheek. ]
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this hurts me wow
YOU AND ME BOTH. FUCK
more emotions than I expected
probably should just expect all the emotions ever with them tbh
legit, they got away from us with this.
...OOPS?
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hey rook so your vampdemon is an emotional wreck
Then again, he knew that this was part of how he grieved. Becoming a demon didn't change that much in that regard.
But he also knew he needed to move on. He had taken to teleporting around the world to make sure that he wasn't as easily traced during his destructive streaks, but now that it seems to have calmed down, he needs to return. He had been neglecting his phone during this time, having shut it off and leaving it back at his apartment in Seoul - he was afraid that talking to others might have set him off further. But now...
A flash and a puff of smoke later, he's back in the apartment, turning his phone on finally while he cleaned himself up. At this point, he had finally willed away all of his demonic traits - minus his horns. For some reason, it felt better to let them stay for the time being, he wasn't going to go out into the public eye anytime soon anyway.
Once he finished cleaning up, he swipes away any message notifications, focusing on texting one singular contact in particular. ]
I'm back in Seoul. I apologize if I worried you, love. Can I see you yet today?
NOOOOO ; ;
still, that didn't seem to stop the whispers about things going awry from making their way to him anyway.
nothing that was... solid. no names, no details, just the vague whispers and the twisting feeling in his gut.
well that and the fact that Jae wasn't at his apartment, wasn't at any of his usual haunts, and wasn't answering his phones.
but no, Rook wasn't worried at all.
so when the text comes through, Rook swears that he can feel himself breathe again. his response is nearly instant.]
Of course. You want to come over here or--?
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There's a small, sad smile that flickers on his face at how quickly Rook responds to the initial text. ]
I'll come to you. Are you home?
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he knows there's a real possibility of rook following him, so he does his best to ninja in and out of the shadows, never able to vanish for very long at one time. hopefully being small and quick and dressed in all black, hood up, works in his favor.
it's a little while later when he sends the demon a text, telling him to come, and quickly, and possibly giving him his second heart attack this week. when he comes to him, it's somewhere dark, with only a candle lighting up the corner.
jiho is sitting in the booth, hoodie removed to reveal the nicer shirt that he was wearing underneath. he lifts his eyes to rook's a little uncertainly.]
I didn't know what you like, so I just ordered four different things. Pasta is pasta, right?
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it has nothing to do with the fondness that he has for the pink haired assassin at all. or how much Rook hates seeing him hurt. nope, nothing at all.
and so if he is following a little closer after the whole Leviathan incident well-- not worry. not even a bit.
except that it is and Rook blinks for half a second and he totally loses Jiho and fucking fuck how does he move so fast? the demon is talking himself down from just reverse engineering a summoning spell when he gets a text from a number he knows and he thinks to breathe and--
fuck, that text that makes his ribcage feel like it's caving in and ohshitohshitohshit.
Rook appears in a instant, ash on the floor and in his hair, eyes goldbright and wild as he looks around, coiled and ready for anything-- or what he thought was anything. because Jiho isn't hurt. he is-- he is--
fuck. he is a stupidly gorgeous idiotic assassin that Rook both wants to kiss and strangle a little right now. the demon deflates a little, breath coming out of him in a ragged laugh as he moves towards the booth and tries to knock the ash out of his hair.]
I can't believe-- you-- fuck, Jiho, you are something else.[ he means it fondly, as can be seen in the way he smiles, something soft in the candle light as he slides into the booth.] A warning about appropriate attire would have been nice, it's only happenstance that I'm wearing a shirt right now, Candy crush.
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even if he told rook to stop, to stay home, it wouldn't do any good now. he would still worry for his sake. so the least jiho can do is lead him somewhere every once and awhile where he doesn't have to worry about him. he likes this look on him much better than worry - well, after those initial moments of worry pass, once rook has realized where he is and what jiho has done. it's kind of nice to catch someone off guard without a blade at the ready.]
I told you to wear whatever you want. The place is ours tonight. [the owner has a daughter and the daughter has an abusive ex. or had. and as a result, they get to have a nice dinner together. romantic, even, though thinking of it that way still makes jiho feel a little panicked, makes him wonder if he can slide under the table and suck him off instead of expressing it. but no, this is about rook, and ironically he thinks the demon of lust appreciates this sort of thing more.] This is to thank you for everything you've done for me.
[he reaches for his glass of water, but doesn't take a drink until after his next words.]
And...because watching me read in my room must be a boring date.
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he knows the truth now, realized it one night when rook went from all bright smiles to a look of disappointment and a whispered apology before he left ash against the fingers that had just been touching his hair. the nail is driven even deeper the second time, when rook comes back with marks on his body, when he promised jiho that it didn't hurt but had trouble meeting the assassin's eyes.
jiho, like everyone, had assumed things. he knows better now, and one of the pains of caring for someone is that when they hurt, you hurt. even the times when he returns quickly, and unbothered, he's still too often pulled away in the middle of a story or a smile. he has no control over it, and jiho will never fault it for him.
he knits while he's gone, trying not to fume, trying not to worry. the blanket gets longer, and jiho's skill gets better, until one day rook returns and can crawl underneath it with him, jiho pulling it up over their heads. he touches the demon's face in the semi-darkness, trying to express so many things with soft touches of his lips: i'm glad you're back. i'm glad you're okay. sometimes it seems to take rook a little time to ground himself back into this, something soft that doesn't make demands of his body. which makes jiho hesitant to even ask, but he wants to know.]
How would I be able to summon you?
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well, he couldn't stop being summoned, no matter how much he might want to. if he could make it so he could ignore the pull, the call, he would stay curled up around Jiho for the rest of time.
but he can't, so he just apologizes for having to leave and vows to never talk about what happens when he is away. which is hard on the few times when marks linger, when the person who summoned him lusted for pain and Rook, being what he is, had to give it. still, Rook doesn't talk about it. wishes that Jiho didn't have to see the lingering scars, because he knows that it bothers him. it never bothered Rook either, at least not until Jiho.
Rook was starting to think of things in terms of 'Before Jiho' and 'After Jiho'. he likes the latter, because it is warm blankets and soft laughter, dry read alouds of his newest book, and mock sword fights with knitting needles.
it's home.
sinking into the touch beneath the blankets, Rook can feel any lingering tension seep out of him, wraps around Jiho like a lifeline and buries his face against the curve of his neck. safe. peaceful.
so needless to say the question, no matter how soft, throws him for a loop. Rook freezes against Jiho, eyes snapping open in the twilight as he processes the question.]
Wh-- I mean, you need the ritual spell. My demonic name, some blood, a black candle but-- [ Rook shifts doesn't pull away, but pulls his head back enough to see Jiho.] Why?
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he can deal with it though. this isn't enough to chase him away, he won't be chased away. but if he can help...
black candles are easy to come back in this house. so is a little bit of blood. jiho's eyes are steady as rook looks up at him, the assassin's hand gentle as it continues stroking his hair.]
Could I pull you back? If someone takes you away, can I summon you back here again? Back to me.
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this time it's just them, a last chance before the weather turned too cold. the assassin is wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans, because today he's not an assassin. ...even if he does write a list of names in the sand. rook just laughs and kicks a bare foot over it before picking him up and threatening to walk into the oean with him.
jiho makes him put him down, but there's an air of mischief about him that belies his spoilsport protests. he glances around once, quickly, and then fixes his gaze on the demon as he strips off his shirt. his hands go to the front of his jeans next.]
Want to take a dip?
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Rook laughs as he holds Jiho close, makes sure to drag his foot through the list of names and has every intention of walking them both into the surf, if only to keep Jiho's mind off of work for a little while longer. he relents though when Jiho turns that look on him, something brooking no argument, but Rook doesn't really have time to sulk (or pout) because in the next moment, Jiho is looking around with a sly smile on his lips that makes Rook's breath catch and then--
it takes a moment for Rook to focus on what is being said and not just stare. he can't help it, Jiho is beautiful and, even with them more or less sharing the same room, Rook really only sees the other when he is helping patch him up from injuries (usually from taking on people he should leave alone but-- whatever).
the demon shakes his head before tugging off his own plain black shirt, smile nearly blinding has he throws it at Jiho with a laugh.]
Do I? Last one in has to forfeit Minsu's dessert for a week!
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he's seen most of his body. ironically more when they first met than in the past weeks. this is a line he's okay crossing with him. honestly, he'd be okay crossing others with him too. rook is learning him more and more every day, understands that jiho's threads of lust or lack thereof aren't a reflection of any shortcomings in him. jiho isn't sure that anyone else would understand that. but there's a middle ground where their desires can meet.
he catches rook's shirt with a laugh, dropping it alongside his own shirt before he finishes undressing. his body is pale and slender, beautiful in its own way and far from what one would imagine the build of an assassin to be. that's worked in his favor more than once.
so has his speed, which he streaks into the shallows with.]
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fuck. this really is who he is now.
he returns with all of those things today, along with a new secret under his hoodie. he doesn't bother calling out for rook when he returns. he can hear the shower running. sometimes rook takes them because, like anyone, he enjoys a nice leisurely shower. sometimes he has other reasons.
jiho feels guilty for leaving at all then. rook taught him his summoning, and while the assassin hasn't used it yet, he's ready. he's never seen the rook who will return to him then, but jiho knows his strengths, knows himself. he'll be able to handle it.
he toes off his converse, pulling his hoodie off with a grimace before shimmying out of the skinny jeans and going to join him under the spray of water. this is the kind of intimacy that jiho always avoided before, would fuck to put up a wall against it. but goddamn if he doesn't enjoy the feeling of soap and rooks fingers in his hair, or sliding his hands over the other's damp skin. he steps into the shower behind him, favoring his left shoulder against the spray. that's where the brand is, the symbol for rook's demonic name angry and red on his pale skin.
jiho steps closer behind him, pressing a kiss between the demon's shoulder blades.]
It's up to you to keep me warm if the hot water runs out.
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despite the fact that Rook will always have to answer the call of a summoning no matter how much he wants to stay.
today was one of those days, where he was completely floored by the luck, the love, that he found. that he had. Jiho had left him a post it note on the pillow, a heart and a scribble of 'love you' that Rook is going to put in a goddamned frame in the Louvre if he can thank you very much. he has plans to spend the morning lounging around, maybe going to ask Minsu how to make something like strawberry shortcake cupcakes for Jiho. he manages the first but--
the second in interrupted by the weird tug in his gut, the curling and prickling feeling of being summoned but-- it never fully manifests. it ends up being an itch beneath Rook's skin for the morning, pulls his concentration away from Minsu's easy words and bright smile (understanding when Rook shakes his head and apologizes, says he will try again tomorrow). ends with Rook in the shower with flickers of gold beneath his skin and a pull to his lips as he tries to ignore the feeling.
which is where Jiho find him, standing under the warm water as if that might wash the feeling away.
(it doesn't, doesn't even come close. but the kiss between his shoulder blades? that feels like absolution.)]
Mmm, I think I can handle that should the need arise. [ leaning back a little Rook hums and moves his hands over Jiho's, tangling their fingers together. the other being close to him has him melting a little, has the tension that was under his skin slipping away.
Rook tips his head to the side, smiles over his shoulder at Jiho.] Find the yarn you were looking for, darling?
[ give him a moment to figure something is off, that his bones are shaking in the confines of his skin not because he is in love but because his name, his true name, is right there, etched with life and blood into skin.]
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[jiho smirks but also means it, because he trusts rook in all things. it still amazes him to think of the many months ago when they used to meet up in the kitchen, each one trying to figure the other one out. he thinks they both probably realized that there was something between them back then. it just wasn't something that either of them was familiar with, and so it took time to decipher.
he presses his lips lightly against the demon's skin and just lets them rest there. he still hasn't figured him out completely. rook's smile is still a mystery, at least when it's given so warmly and frequently to someone like him. the way that rook loves him is the real puzzle, but one that jiho wouldn't mind taking the rest of his life to figure out.
jiho sighs at the question, tipping his head forward so that his forehead presses against rook instead.]
Fuck, no. I don't even know what kind I need now, apparently yarn is not just yarn and can come from all sorts of sheep and alpaca and fucking...wombats.
[this little bit of frustration probably paints a clear picture for rook by now, one where the little pink-haired assassin stands in a craft shop, taking turns between scowling at a huge wall of yarn and the grandmother who's trying to educate him on it.
jiho lifts his head, looking up suddenly before rubbing a hand down rook's back. his skin feels warm, the water is still warm, but he could've sworn that he felt a shiver going through him.]
You okay? Do I need to be the one keeping you warm? All except about eight inches, anyway.
[THE DIFFERENCE IN THEIR HEIGHT, NOT- nevermind.]
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He forgets where he first ran into Rook, but he's kept an eye on him ever since. There's a charm to the demon that goes beyond what he's so naturally able to do; part of it is just how unlike any other demon Minjun has had the misfortune to deal with he is. A strangely... sweet secret? It's odd.
There are bags in his hands when he shows up at Rook's place, filled with a bunch of ingredients he picked up on his way over. His hand lifts to knock when he pauses and promptly searches out the spare key to just unlock the door himself. Easier. Plus, he had sent a message already that he was coming over, so at least it's not a surprise.
Minjun toes his shoes off once he's inside and locks the door back up behind him. ]
Rook, I'm here.
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Most would think that a demon of lust would have crafted a place that spoke of want and desire, reds and golds and deep indigo, but-- not Rook. He got enough of that, thank you. This was his place and he wanted none of that here. This was sanctuary. Safe. Home.
The demon has just just made his way back, left a dusting of ash on the front hall carpet, half an hour before Minjun shows up, the text the other sent as a warning still unread on his phone in the bedroom. Rook has a ritual when he comes back, from anywhere really, a really long hot shower that would probably boil a human, followed by his favourite tea wrapped up in a blanket on the couch while he either watched a silly romance show, or reads a book.
He has managed step one when he hears a voice in the apartment.
Padding down the hall with damp hair, an oversized white sweater and track pants, Rook blinks a few times at Minjun before he breaks out into a smile, wide and bright, making his way over to take some of the bags.]
Minnie! What a wonderful surprise. [ Even if you tried to make it not a surprise, honestly, this just made Rook's night so much better.] Do you actually have free time for once?
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gib cardinal pls
well. he's heard there's been an actual major shift to the hierarchy down there. he supposes maybe it's time to go back for a little visit. pay homage and what have you. it's important to at least look like he still cares about the politics.
as soon as he steps through the gate his glamor disappears, horns and tail and wings all reappearing, all just as small as the rest of him but still just as sharp. he lashes out with the tail at someone trying to touch, his nose wrinkling just a bit in their direction. he doesn't have time for the little ones, he's after the big fish.
he knocks, politely, but enters the chambers all the same, gaze darting around with a faint hum. and then they finally land on him and gil just stops moving forward as he lets out a noise of appreciation. ]
Holy fuck you're pretty.
[ hah. holy. ]
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It's a lot.
It's a lot and Rook has come into his own in ways that no one ever thought he would. Sure, deep down there was still something soft about him, something a little more lenient than most other Princes, but he was a lot more. Even before he took the Cardinal, Rook was one of the oldest lust demons. So he has been around the block a few times, and thankfully has more that like him than hate him. That will come in handy.
Still, there were things he was getting used to. Having wings that worked, for one, no longer gilded useless things that hung like weights against his shoulders, but massive black and gold wings that could carry him. Having demons look up to him, seek him out was another. Rook was never one to seclude himself away, even less so now, so he isn't all that surprised when the door to his chamber opens and lets in.... a vaguely familiar incubus.
Rook is curled up in a swath of pillows and silks with what looks to be a book in hand, dressed (barely) in his usual black and gold, white blond hair mussed, looking every bit the Prince of Lust he is supposed to be. Snapping the book shut, Rook laughs and stretches, very aware of the way bronze skin catches in the light of the chambers, before resting his chin on his hand and watches.]
That I am, you're rather pretty yourself, sweetling. What brings you here, hmmm? [ A tip of his head, the arch of his neck, Rook gestures for the incubus to come closer.]
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