The dinner invitation

Levi had grown tired of hiding. Tired of the cold indifference he showed Jaceon every time they crossed paths, pretending he wasn't bothered, pretending he wasn't drawn to him in ways he couldn't understand. Something had to change—and tonight, he decided, it would.

After a long day filled with back-to-back meetings and endless paperwork, Levi returned home, exhausted but determined. He took a deep breath, walked into his room, and grabbed his phone.

"Dinner at mine. 9 PM. Don't be late."

He hesitated, then hit send.

Jaceon replied almost instantly:

"You finally caved? What's the occasion—world ending?"

Levi smirked at the sarcasm, shaking his head.

He called for his staff and gave them strict instructions. "I want the table set for two. Use the gold-edged cutlery, bring out the best wine. Make something... memorable."

The house was polished to perfection. Candles flickered gently, casting a warm glow over the elegant dining room. A classical playlist floated softly in the background, and everything smelled of rosemary, garlic, and roasted meat.

At exactly nine, Jaceon arrived, dressed casually but still somehow managing to look like a man who ruled any room he stepped into. He walked in with the same unbothered confidence, but the second he entered the living room, he slowed.

His eyes flicked up toward the large silver cross mounted above the fireplace.

Levi noticed the way Jaceon's body tensed, the sharp flicker of discomfort across his face. Without a word, Jaceon pulled out a pair of sunglasses from his coat pocket and slid them on, even though it was dark.

Levi raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Sunglasses at night?"

Jaceon's mouth twisted into a half-smile. "What can I say? That cross is doing a number on my eyes. Didn't realize you were the holy type."

"It was my mother's," Levi replied. "She was a devout Christian. I kept it after she passed."

"Touching," Jaceon said flatly, walking past him.

Levi let the comment slide. Tonight wasn't the night for arguments.

They sat down at the dining table. Everything looked perfect, but Jaceon remained unimpressed. He poked at the food with the tip of his fork and gave Levi a look.

"You didn't poison this, right?"

Levi laughed lightly. "It's just dinner, Jaceon."

"Exactly. Which is why I'm trying to figure out what's really going on here. You don't 'just' do dinner."

"Maybe I'm tired of pretending I don't enjoy your company," Levi said, more honestly than he intended. "Maybe I want to be... better."

Jaceon looked at him long and hard, but said nothing.

A few moments passed before Levi stood. "Before we eat, I usually say a short prayer. Just to bless the food."

Jaceon immediately leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, no. I'm not doing that."

Levi blinked. "It's just a prayer."

"I don't believe in that stuff," Jaceon said sharply. "I'm not going to sit here and nod while you chant to a god I don't care about."

Levi frowned. "You don't have to pray. Just sit and be respectful."

"Respectfully, I'll wait outside," Jaceon said, standing up. "Call me when you're done."

He turned without waiting for a response, disappearing toward the garden.

Levi sat there, stunned. The moment he'd planned—so carefully arranged—was falling apart. He lowered his eyes to the untouched plate in front of him, unsure what stung more: Jaceon walking out, or the walls still standing between them.

Later that night, Levi found himself staring into the mirror again, wondering what it was about Jaceon that drew him in so deeply. Why even when things went wrong, he still wanted to try.

Whatever this strange connection was, he knew one thing for sure:

He wasn't ready to give up on it.

Not yet.

Meanwhile ,

After Jaceon got home,

He slammed the front door behind him, the sound echoing through the high ceilings of the apartment he shared with Monica. His footsteps were loud, each one a stomp of irritation as he shrugged off his coat and tossed his sunglasses on the kitchen counter.

Monica, lounging on the couch in an oversized hoodie and fuzzy socks, didn't even flinch. She was too busy scrolling on her phone and munching on caramel popcorn.

He paced for a moment before exploding. "He had a cross, Monica. A massive one. Like, silver and practically glowing. Just hanging over the damn fireplace like a holy chandelier."

Monica finally looked up, raising a brow. "Oh no. Not the scary Christian decor."

Jaceon glared at her. "It burned. Literally. I had to wear shades to stop my eyes from turning into fireballs. And then—then—he had the nerve to say a prayer before dinner."

Monica gasped theatrically. "A prayer? How dare he!"

"Don't mock me," Jaceon snapped, flopping onto the couch beside her. "You weren't there. The second he folded his hands, I could feel it—like something crawling under my skin. I had to leave before I combusted right there in his fancy dining room."

She bit back a laugh. "You sure you didn't just have indigestion? Or a tiny demon tantrum?"

"Monica," he growled.

"What?" she said, completely unfazed. "You're the one getting worked up because a guy said grace before eating. Normal humans do that sometimes."

Jaceon threw her a deadly look. "It wasn't just the prayer. It was the way he looked at me. Like he trusted me. Like he wanted me there. And I—"

"Liked it?" Monica cut in, smirking.

He hesitated, jaw tightening.

Monica tossed a popcorn kernel at him. "Jaceon, sweetie, you've got a major crush on the church boy. Admit it."

"I don't have a crush," he muttered. "It's just... complicated."

"Oh, I love complicated," she said with a grin. "Especially when it involves a demon boy catching feelings for someone who literally decorates his house with weapons against you."

Jaceon sighed, leaning his head back against the couch. "He makes me feel things I don't understand. Things I shouldn't feel. I don't know if it's curiosity, obsession, or something worse."

Monica grew quiet for a moment, her teasing smile softening. "Maybe it's just... real."

He turned to look at her.

She shrugged. "Real emotions. Real connection. Real confusion. You're not used to that, are you?"

Jaceon didn't answer. He didn't need to. The silence was enough.

Monica popped another kernel into her mouth. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Next time he invites you over, try not to burst into flames before dessert."

He groaned. "You're impossible."

"And you're doomed," she said sweetly.

But deep down, Jaceon knew she was right. Because no matter how dangerous it was, no matter how wrong it felt…

He still wanted to see Levi again.

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