Chapter Text
San had a good life. Really. He had a good, decent paying job as a PE teacher in a school near his home, a nice apartment, a couple of close friends and a kind enough family with which he kept in touch. Sometimes.
He could assure anyone that there wasn’t anything really wrong with his life and the way he led it, except that maybe… there wasn’t much excitement to it. He lived alone, no pets, no plants, no deviation from plans. Just calm. As an introvert, his days were mostly made up of routine, a home-work-gym-home sort of situation that was not a big problem for him. For his friends, though…
His best friend, extrovert extraordinaire Jung Wooyoung, claimed he was lonely and that he should try dating. But San was a shy, awkward couch potato and couldn’t be bothered to go looking for someone. And it wasn’t that he was opposed to the idea of dating, he even sort of wished for someone special to appear, but they would have to do exactly that: appear in his living room, straight from the mist, ready to change his life. He wasn’t leaving his couch for a promise of a date that would probably suck. The good time he was certain to have watching Spider Man for the 100th time was much better. And he said exactly that to Wooyoung when his friend called, trying to get him to go to, of all things, a club that night.
“Really, Sani, you have to get out of the house”.
“Wooyoung, it’s Friday night. I’m tired. Do you know how many students I had today?”
“Exactly! It’s Friday night. That means you have to have a drink. It’s like, law”.
“There’s no law like that”.
“And it’s your birthday!”, Wooyoung went on, not giving him the time of day, “On this day, it’s your duty to have too many drinks and dance with hot strangers. It’s not everyday that you turn 25”.
San had always thought birthdays were overrated. Or maybe that was just his way of coping with the fact that turning twenty-five didn’t magically make life any less… boring. He sat cross-legged on his sofa, phone in hand, trying to make Wooyoung quit badgering him.
“I’m not going, Woo. I have a special red velvet cake that I bought just for tonight and a glass of wine, and I promise you that’s all I need”.
“I’m coming over then”, Wooyoung said, sighing. “You can’t spend your birthday alone” .
“Didn’t you have that date with Hongjoong today? You don’t have to reschedule it on my account. We can meet tomorrow for breakfast or something. Maybe lunch, if your date goes well enough”.
“Shut up”, Wooyoung whines, and San snorts, almost visualizing his cheeks turning pink. “I mean, I kind of have a date, yes, but it’s chill! Joongie is playing a set in the club we are supposed to go to. We can do both your celebration and my date, no problem”.
“Except I’m not going, Youngie. I’m serious, there’s a wine glass with my name on it tonight”.
“Ugh, why are you so boooooring”, he whined more. “God gave you abs and a tiny waist and you just refuse to put it to good use in the club like our Lord intended to”.
San laughs out loud now, and he can hear Wooyoung whining more on the other side, pleas of “I’m so serious right now, Choi San, I swear”.
“It’s fine, Woo. Me and my abs are going to stay home and chill, and you can go to the club to see your DJ doing DJ things. You know I don’t like crowded places. Or loud music. Or people ogling my ass”.
“It’s a nice ass”, Wooyoung promises, and San cackles again.
“Well, thanks. We can meet tomorrow, I promise. It will still be my birthday at midday, it’s fine. Just buy me a cake and tell me all about tiny man Hongjoong”.
“He’s not tiny. We’re the same size!”
“Exactly”.
“Ugh, you’re the worst. Fine. I’ll do this sacrifice and go dancing alone”.
“You’ll not be alone, you’ll be with Hongjoong and all your other millions of friends”.
“They’re not you, though. Argh, you better text me tomorrow or I’m coming over and punching your door down”.
“Yes, I love you too”.
“As you should. Happy Birthday, Sani. Gotta get ready now, see you tomorrow!”
“Thanks, Woo. Have a good time!”
San hangs up and he can see his tired face on his screen. The kids were so energetic today, he’s dead on his feet. He sighs and lays down, scrolling through his phone, ignoring the faint, ominous vibration in the air that seemed to hum just a little too insistently. He’ll have that glass of wine. He’ll just rest a little first. His bed is calling his name.
૮ ・ﻌ・ა
“Happy birthday, Sani!” Wooyoung texted at exactly midnight. Typical Woo. There was a photo attached, Wooyoung cheek to cheek with Hongjoong, lights flashing behind them. San smiled, but muted the chat notifications. Birthdays were more stressful than fun, honestly.
He leaned back against his headboard with a long sigh, the quiet of his apartment wrapping around him like a soft blanket. And then, with a sound that could only be described as the apocalypse arriving, the air cracked.
A growl, low and rumbling, vibrated through the floor. In bed, San froze.
The next thing he saw nearly made him fall down from the bed: a creature crouched in the middle of his room. Jet-black fur, glowing red eyes, and a jaw full of teeth that looked like they were personally forged in the depths of hell.
Was that… a hellhound?
San blinked. Then blinked again.
“This can’t be real.”
The hellhound tilted its head, cocking one pointed ear in a way that was almost… curious. Then it took a cautious step forward.
San laid back down. He was dreaming. There was no other explanation.
“Nope. Nope. Definitely nope,” he whispered.
The hellhound growled. Or maybe it laughed. San wasn’t entirely sure. It sounded like a cross between a growl and a chorus of tiny explosions.
San pushed the covers over up his head, but he could still hear the gigantic animal (was this an animal?) stepping closer to his bed.
He could feel its hot breath wooshing over his head, even from inside his cocoon.
When it stopped moving (Gods, he could feel it so close), he peeked out.
“Um… hey there, uh… good boy?”
The hellhound growled menacingly. Then did it again, for good measure. Louder.
“Okay, not a good boy,” San muttered. He pressed himself against the wall, heart hammering.
The hound merely got closer, put his head over the bed and stared at San with his big red eyes, like a strangely demonic, but overall well behaved puppy. Its dark, thick tongue lolled out of its mouth and, for a second, he even looked cute.
San froze. “And now?”
The hellhound’s eyes glowed brighter, and a chill ran down his spine. But yet, somehow, San felt that it didn't want to hurt him. Certainly, if it wanted to, he would be in shreds already?
One of its paws made its way to the bed too, like the massive thing was just getting comfortable. San wondered if he should start praying.
He tried to think rationally. Rationally, in this situation, meant: run. Maybe throw something. Maybe… cuddle it?
He shook his head. Definitely not cuddle it.
The hellhound—who, based on the vibrating aura around him, seemed very much capable of eating San in a single bite—whined. Then it tilted its head like it expected him to speak first.
“…Hi?” San squeaked. His voice sounded weaker than he intended.
The hellhound snorted, and for some reason, that was both terrifying and oddly endearing.
Minutes passed. San stared. The hellhound stared. His brain screamed run, but his heart, well, his heart was inexplicably weirdly warm. Like this terrifying creature was somehow familiar.
As San laid in his bed, paralyzed, he heard a loud thud that almost made his heart stop beating altogether. He tried to gather forces to lift his body a little and look for the source of the sound (oh God, just imagine if there was another one in there with him) and he found it immediately: The hellhound had a tail. A fluffy, black, slightly twitchy tail that swished when it decided San wasn’t immediately going to reject it… or it was waiting for his soul, maybe.
San pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. So. Giant dog. From Hell, I guess. Hellhound? On my birthday? Maybe a birthday gift? From Hell? Why would hell be sending me presents? Totally normal. Nothing terrifying about this at all.”
The hellhound let out a small whine and nudged his leg. And San, against all rational instincts, put his arm out and patted its head.
It purred. A sound that was definitely not natural, resonating with something deep and ancient inside him.
San’s breath hitched. “Oh.”
The realization hit him like a truck made of fur, teeth, and glowing red eyes: this wasn’t just a hellhound. This was a part of him.
He looked down at the hellhound, whose eyes were now softer, almost pleading. “Okay,” San whispered, a small smile creeping onto his face despite the terror. “I guess… welcome to my life.”
The hellhound wagged its tail (more like a whip, really) and San couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, yeah. You’re scary, but also, apparently, mine. Great.”
And just like that, his twenty-fifth birthday had officially gone from “boring, lonely night” to “I might die in the next five minutes but also maybe fall in love.”
Because when a hellhound decides to sit on your floor and stare at you like you’re the most important thing in the universe… well. You kind of have no choice but to accept it.
San sighed, hugging his knees. “I hope you’re sweet, at least. I mean, you look like a nice sweet huge beast, though you don't like to be called good boy”. The hound growled like expecting San to realize something. San looked at it again. It’s eyes shone bright in the dark of the night.
“Good girl?”
And at that, the hellhound seemed to preen, and San couldn’t help but smile.
It barked once, sharp and echoing, like an emphatic yes.
San blinked. “Great. That’s reassuring.”
San spent the next half hour trying—and spectacularly failing—to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do with a hellhound.
He rifled through his pantry, muttering, “Okay, does it eat dog food? No, too normal. Maybe meat? But that feels way too dangerous. Canned tuna? Eh… maybe?” The hellhound sat on its haunches, glowing eyes fixed on him, tail flicking like a metronome of doom.
San held up a can of tuna. “You like fish?”
The hellhound barked. Or maybe it laughed. San wasn’t entirely sure. It echoed through the apartment, and San had no idea how not one of his neighbours came to his door yet to complain about how he had a huge ass dog inside making noise at 1 AM.
“…I’ll take that as yes,” he said, opening the can. The smell seemed to excite it—enough that it wagged its tail furiously, sending a small lamp toppling.
San sighed, dodging the lamp. “This is going to be a long night.”
He turned around, looking as the hellhound ate. It looked like a dog. A giant, heavy, terrifying dog, but all the same. He couldn’t very well keep calling it Hellhound. People were going to think he was weird.
“Uhh, how about we call you…” He crouched down, eye level with the creature. “Storm. Because you’re loud and terrifying”. Storm whined, unhappy “But also incredible!”
The hellhound seemed to perk up at that. It’s ears twitched. Then it tilted its head and barked once, sharply. San blinked.
“I guess you like it”
It barked again.
“Okay. Storm it is. Good girl”.
And with a name chosen, San could do nothing more than pat the fluffy, black as night, fur covered head.
૮ ・ﻌ・ა
Storm was happy to follow San around the place, it seemed. Every step San gave, she was right behind him, like a terrifying growly bodyguard. Unfortunately, that meant that every time San tried to clean up the mess brought by having a huge ass demon dog around, she was just making more of a mess right behind him. He tried to make her sit down in the living room, where she could watch him clean, but she seemed to like to keep close.
He gave up.
Laying down on the sofa, he just let her do as she pleased. Storm watched him like a tiny empress judging a court jester.
“You know,” San said, brushing a strand of hair from his face, “I never really wanted a pet. Especially not a dog. I’m more of a cat person, you know? But here we are. Life’s weird, huh?”
Storm nudged his hand with a wet, glowing nose. San flinched, then laughed. “Yeah. Weird but… not terrible.”
By the time the sun rose, San had managed to establish a fragile domestic routine: he fed Storm, she followed him everywhere, and every now and then it would curl up beside him, growling at nothing. Occasionally, he caught it staring at him like it really understood him. That was… unsettling. But also kind of comforting.
Then, of course, the knocking started.
San froze. Storm stiffened, then walked up to the door, sitting right beside it like a well behaved golden retriever waiting for her owner to come home after work.
“Who—what—no one’s coming over, right? I’m pretty sure. Maybe. Oh my god, is it Wooyoung already? He said text first, oh my god, what am I going to say to him about this huge ass demon dog in my living room” San panicked.
The door rattled again, louder this time. And then a voice:
“Choi San? You have a package?”
San’s brain short-circuited. Packages weren’t supposed to knock. They were supposed to stay down at the main hall. No delivery man was coming up to the 8th floor. Not on a day that had already included: a hellhound, glowing red eyes, and tuna-related chaos.
He opened the door cautiously—and froze.
The man on his doorstep was ridiculously tall. Broad-shouldered, dark haired, with a stare that could probably punch through steel. And somehow, through the slightly threatening aura, he just looked… weary. And curious.
“Uh,” San started. Storm growled low behind him. “…hi?”
The man’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “I’m here about the hellhound.”
San blinked. “Excuse me?”
The man straightened, eyes narrowing slightly—not in hostility, but in calculation. “The one that arrived today. It is… connected to me.”
San opened his mouth, then shut it again. Storm barked sharply, then yipped, almost excitedly.
San pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right. Of course. That makes perfect sense. Totally normal. It’s 6am and a tall, mysterious, probably-demon man is here because of my birthday hellhound. Cool.”
The man gave a small bow. “I am Jung Yunho. And you, I believe, are Choi San.”
San gawked. The stranger knew his name?!
“Will you allow me inside your abode?”
“Who talks like that? Jesus. ”
Yunho tilted his head, expression humorous. “Quite the opposite, actually. I am a demon prince.”
San’s jaw dropped. “Oh. Yeah. That explains the whole ‘hellhound’ thing. Naturally. Sure.”
He opened the door so the man (Demon Prince, apparently) could come inside. Storm barked again as he entered, louder this time, almost like a welcome. San shot it a glare. “…I think she likes you. Or maybe she wants to eat you. Still can’t differentiate honestly. Probably both.”
Yunho’s lips quirked in the tiniest smirk. “…It does not bite. Usually.”
“Oi, she’s my hellhound”.
“It’s mine actually”.
San flopped onto the floor. “No. We bonded. Storm is mine now”.
“Storm…? I believe its name is Seraphiel’’
“Storm. She chose it”.
Yunho’s lips twitched again. San tried not to stare, but there was a very handsome man at 6 AM in his living room and he was just a lonely, gay man.
“My life is cursed. Or blessed. Or… something.”
Storm nudged his shoulder, letting out a small, contented growl, and San felt an odd warmth in his chest. Yunho stared at him with his deep brown eyes and San thought that maybe this day wasn’t chaos. Maybe this was just the way his life was supposed to be.
૮ ・ﻌ・ა
Yunho had somehow moved into his living room, standing stiffly by the window, arms crossed. San wasn’t sure if he was here to take back Storm, scare him, or just… look intimidating in general. Probably all three.
San flopped back against the couch with Storm curled around his legs like a slightly dangerous, very warm blanket.
“So,” San began, rubbing his temples, “you’re a demon prince, Storm is apparently my birthday present from hell, so logically this means we’re all… friends now?”
Yunho’s lips twitched. “She’s not here as a present. And I am not here to make friends.”
Storm yawned, showing sharp teeth that gleamed in the late morning light. “You’re not here as a threat either. She’s not growling,” San reasoned.
Yunho’s eyes flicked to Storm, narrowing slightly, and San caught a glimpse of something like humour. Maybe protectiveness? Whatever it was, it made his chest squeeze.
San shook his head. “Okay, first things first. Are you taking her back?”
Yunho paused. Storm growled menacingly in the silence that remained, and Yunho rolled his eyes.
“No, I don’t think so”.
“Okay, so… How do I live with a hellhound? Do I need insurance? Holy water?”
Yunho exhaled sharply, stepping closer.
“No. You just need to trust it. It will protect you. Storm is yours now, same as she’s mine.”
San blinked. “Wait. It was your hellhound? Like a pet?”
Yunho cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “It guards the gates of my territory, and as so, it is part of me. And it has chosen you. And in doing so… We are bonded now”.
“Excuse me? I don’t even know you, and you’re saying we’re bonded now, like that means anything”.
The demon huffed, exasperated.
“Look, Seraphiel is part of my soul. And yesterday it… resonated with something within you. So, yes, we are bonded now. Part of the same soul. Soulmates, if you want”.
San sank into the couch cushions. “Soulmates?”
Yunho went quiet, seemingly fascinated by the pictures displayed on his wall.
Storm shifted, resting its head on San’s knee, and let out a soft growl that sounded almost like a purr. San stroked its fur, feeling the warmth, the faint pulse of something ancient and steady. Somehow, amidst the chaos, he felt… safe.
“Okay,” he muttered. “I guess I can deal with this. Maybe.”
Yunho’s gaze softened just slightly, though he quickly masked it with a frown. “Do not treat this lightly. Soulmates… are sacred. Important.”
San laughed nervously. “Yeah, you’re intimidating, scary and very dramatic. Got it.”
A small smile tugged at Yunho’s lips before he caught himself. “You’re not afraid of me at all, are you? Such a reckless little thing.”
San shrugged. “I have a hellhound. That counts for something, right?”
Storm barked, nudging San’s hand toward Yunho, as if signaling approval. San blinked at the display, then laughed. “And she likes you, apparently”
Yunho knelt slightly, extending a hand toward Storm. “It’s because I mean no harm to you. Couldn’t, really, since you’re quite literally part of my soul”.
“And how exactly did she find me, then?”
Yunho’s expression softened, though he still looked serious. “It chooses carefully.”
San felt a warmth in his chest he couldn’t explain. “I can see that. But… how?”
The demon seemed to think for a second.
“You said it was your birthday present, right?”
“She” , San added, “And yes. But like, from hell”.
“Well, birth days are usually full of the energy that makes you, you. It’s the day your soul gets the brightest. She probably just noticed you from down there and she knew you were part of me then”.
“This is fate then?”
“You have part of my soul, so it was inevitable, yes, that we crossed paths. Seraphiel would have found you at some point or other”.
“Oh”. Yunho tilted his head in an angle that made him look exactly like Storm. San smiled. “I think I like that, actually”.
The morning stretched on, filled with awkward conversation, minor chaos as Storm explored every corner of the apartment, and bursts of laughter from San that seemed to make Yunho pause—just slightly—at the corners of his mouth.
San even offered the demon prince a piece of his very special, highly coveted, Red Velvet premium cake, and to his absolute surprise, the demon accepted it. He didn’t seem to like it, but San was happy he even tried.
By the time the sun had reached its peak, San realized something incredible. Amidst the chaos, the fear, the sheer absurdity of having a hellhound and a demon prince standing in his living room… he felt a strange kind of peace.
Storm curled up next to him, Yunho stood nearby, gaze softened just a fraction, unreadable but faintly tender. San exhaled, letting his head fall back on the couch.
Somehow, San knew, even if he didn’t understand how yet, that life had just… shifted. And despite all the chaos, all the fear, and all the unknown, he felt ready to see where this bond—this hellhound, this demon prince, this very strange soulmate situation—would take him.
Because if fate was this weird, maybe it was worth trusting.