Chuuya and the Demon Sandwich
There is no way that demons are real.
Chuuya’s grandmother has always told him stories about magical creatures that have been roaming around the world for centuries. He grew up fascinated and, at times, fearful of yokai and gods, but, even at such a young age, he couldn’t bring himself to believe in demons. His grandmother would sometimes give him amulets that are said to ward off demons and take him to the mountains to ask for protection against them. “Be careful of those vile creatures, Chuuya-kun. They can trick just about anyone to sell their soul to them,” his grandmother would warn him every time he goes out alone at night and he wants to tell her that he doesn’t believe them, but, instead, he stays quiet and smiles gently at her.
There is no way that demons are real, yet here he is, holding a bottle of mustard with both hands while staring at two annoyingly handsome creatures sitting on his kitchen counter. They both wear a smirk on their faces as they slowly approach the human in front of them, eyes glinting with desire and a hint of amusement.
Chuuya warily takes a step back, looking like a deer caught in headlights as his eyes landed on the horns attached to their heads. His grandmother’s words echo in his mind as he remembers how she had described the demons—the horns in their heads, the way their eyes glow in the dark and the smell of sulfur that follows them around. A part of him wants to deny their presence, but there is no other explanation for the burnt symbol in his sandwich. No one has ever told him that he can accidentally summon not just one but two demons while randomly doodling on his sandwich, okay?
Before he can run towards the door and scream for help, he feels a sudden presence behind him, making him tense and clench the hard on the bottle of mustard still in his hands. “Where do you think you’re going, zaika?” A shiver runs down his spine as he feels the demon’s breath against his neck.
“Anywhere, preferably away from the both of you,” the ginger answers while glaring at the other demon in front of him. He is quite surprised how stable his voice sounded despite the harsh beat of his heart. “Or you can just walk yourself out of my apartment.”
“But you summoned us here, Chibi~!” In a blink of an eye, the demon is in front of him before wrapping his hand around the back of his neck and tilting his head upwards with the other. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Dazai and you’re going to be mine.”
“Don’t get ahold of yourself, Dazai-kun. I believe he is mine first and foremost,” the other demon argues as he wraps his arms around Chuuya’s waist, making him jump in surprise from the contact. “You don’t get to have him before I do.”
“How barbaric of you, Fyodor-kun. I’m not very fond of sharing, but I can always make an exception.”
Chuuya tunes them out as they start throwing insults at each other. He needs to find a way to escape the two of them before he loses his soul or, worse, having to spend an eternity with them. Just when he is about to throw the mustard at Dazai, he is spun around by Fyodor before the bottle disappears in his hands. “Don’t even try. You can’t escape us now,” he says, his eyes boring on the ginger’s blue ones.
“You’re going to be our queen, mon petit ange,” Dazai cheers before nibbling on the human’s ears as his hand wrapped around the other’s neck glows an eerie blue color. Soon enough, blue elaborate symbols start to appear on Chuuya’s neck, looking like some sort of collar. “Ours for eternity.”
A groan escapes the ginger’s lips as he feels Dazai’s lips on his neck—sucking bruises on his sensitive skin once the collar is complete. Fyodor then takes one of his hands and peppers it with kisses before etching his own symbol on the back of his hand. As he waits for the purple tattoo to be completed, he plays with Chuuya’s fingers before sucking them, earning a moan from the other.
Chuuya’s legs grew wobbly as the demons play with the most sensitive parts of his body, slowly marking him as theirs. He wants to fight them back, but he already knows how futile that attempt would be as his mind is clouded by pleasure. He is utterly powerless against these demons.
“We’ll take care of you, Chuuya.”
“We always take care of what is ours.”