Prohibitum Amoris

(Or a Short Tale of Love)

Minho flew through the air, his bat-like black wings stirring the cold night air around him. Beneath his place in the night sky were the twinkling lights of New York city where the humans continued on with their busy lives, slowly polluting their world. The entire city was bright and glittered in the blackness, illuminating the entire area around it.

Lips curving up into a sly smile, Minho angled himself down and swept a hand through his short spikey black hair, reveling in the feel of the drop as he flew. As his pointed tail whipped around in the air behind him he let out a high-pitched "whoop" of excitement while he dipped through the air. "Can't tell me what to do now, can you?!" he cried, ecstatic at having escaped the cruel confinements of the Demon city and their prophecies.

Although his body was still shivering from the shock of being pulled through a portal from the Demon-world to the Human-world, Minho had never felt so alive. His entire body felt free and pumped full of adrenaline from the rush of doing something he truly wasn't supposed to be doing. While he had always been a troublemaker while learning combat and magic in school, he had never had the balls to do anything illegal or that would be dangerous to his life.

"Carpe diem, I suppose" he cackled, unabashed, as he tucked his wings in close and free-fell a few stories down through the sky.

Wind whistled past him while he dropped, growing nearer to the oncoming city. His stomach was somersaulting, sending his heart into his throat where it proceeded to ricochet in all directions. Everything but the howling of the wind was silent around Minho, cacooning him in a pocket of cold, crisp air. The night smelled like winter from how high up he was, though the scents of the city were beginning to get closer as he fell.

Sniffing the air once more for any signs of Angels, Minho flung his wings out and swept silently over the tree-tops of the gigantic park, his feet skimming the branches. Minho cast his deep purple eyes across the ground he was above, making sure there were no unwanted angels nearby. Satisfied that he was alone, he kicked his legs out and landed on a black cast-iron bench, reclining back across it leisurely.

White stars twinkled over head as dark clouds drifted by, the crescent moon barely visible behind the darkness. Bats fluttered over head and fire-flies kicked up a soft glow around the glade Minho was landed in. It was much warmer on the ground, Minho contemplated. One of the strange happenings in that dimension.

With his ankles crossed and leaning against the arm rest of the bench, Minho allowed himself to briefly think about what he had done. It wasn't as bad as he had originally thought, surely. Of course there was the fact he was in the Human-world without any proof of passing the tests needed to get there, he had illegally crept through a portal to get to the Human-world, he was in possession of a stolen dagger, and he was currently residing on angel territory, but that wasn't so bad...

Minho groaned. He was shucked. "Whatever," he muttered to himself. "I'll find my way around it when I get home."

If he got home. Minho knew that there was about a one in ten chance that he would actually be able to recreate or find a portal that could send him safely home, and even if he did find one, there was a very small likelihood that it would end well for him when he got back to Infernum Civitatem, the city he was from. Sometimes he was sure he didn't even want to go back there.

Suddenly, there was a sharp crack, like the sound of a stick breaking. Immediately Minho leapt up and balanced in a crouch on the top of the bench, his wings out for balance. The air was buzzing with pure magic, the kind only given off by an -

"Angel," Minho growled as the creature came into sight.

The boy couldn't have been older than Minho, at around the human age of sixteen. His eyes glowed a luminescent green color like a cat's and light brown hair fell slightly over his eyes, a golden halo hovering over his head made of pure energy. A pair of downy white angel wings sprouted from his back with a span that could rival Minho's own, not that the demon would admit to it.

Just as Minho was about to shoot up into the sky, the angel looked up and locked eyes with him. "Daemon," the boy hissed, his halo glowing a harsher color as he spit the word out.

"Angelus," Minho spat back in Latin, going along with the angel's choice of language. "If you're going to speak to me, speak to me in English."

The angel straightened, allowing Minho a better look at his clothes. He wore pure white jeans and a soft looking white sweatshirt, as well as a silver necklace with a cross pendant around it. Minho found it difficult not to compare his black skinny jeans and torn black shirt and leather combat boots to this guy's heavenly look.

"I'll speak to you in whatever language I'd like," the boy shot back, though he complied to Minho's demand. "What are you doing on angel territory? You should know this city is under the protection of the angels."

Minho chuckled, a sound like a growl in the back of his throat. "Of course I know. I just chose to ignore it."

"I always thought rebelling was a sign of a faulty demon where you're from," the angel shot back, ruffling his feathers. "I'm going to give you a minute before I shoot you out of the sky."

"Ah," Minho sighed, jumping off the bench onto the dark green grass. "But the thing is, I'm not in the sky."

"Don't give me back talk, demon. You're on my territory." The angel crossed his arms, setting his mouth in a grim line. "Get out."

Minho raked a scrutinizing glare over the angel and retaliated with, "You seem a bit young to be in charge of your very own piece of territory. Besides..." He prowled forwards towards the angel, his feet making no noise as he stepped across the ground silently. With his breath held, the young demon leaned closer to the angel before him until he was only inches away. "Any real angel would have shot me the moment you saw me."

Minho saw that his words had some of the desired effect as the angel took a hasty step back and snapped, "It's my family's territory. I'm sparing your life because I see no reason to kill a harmless trouble-maker." The angel smirked.

"Harmless trouble-maker?" Minho growled, his hair standing on edge and his eyes becoming luminescent. "Who are you calling trouble-maker? I could do more damage than any of your little angel spells could." His voice held a razor-sharp threat on his words.

The angel's eyes flashed with worry before he put his hands out and shoved Minho back. His hands were disturbingly warm, leaving a burning feeling on Minho's chest. "C'mon, what can you do, little demon?"

That did it. With a shout of outrage, Minho curled his hand around his palm, conjuring a glowing flame of purple fire. Adrenaline shot through his body as he whipped his nightmare dagger out of his belt and threw himself at the angel.

The angel yelped and shot out of the way, flapping his wings rapidly to escape the oncoming threat. Minho, through livid eyes, watched as the boy conjured a golden bow out of thin air, followed by a quiver of arrows that were made of pure light.

Minho poised the dagger, snarling under his breath, before launching himself forward and forcing the knife into the boy's shoulder.

The angel let out a spiral of shocked breath, letting go of the arrow that had been knocked in his bow at the same time.

~WICKED~

Thomas could barely see through the pain.

The demon boy was doubled over on the ground, his hand groping the light arrow Thomas had shot. Meanwhile, Thomas himself was on his knees, breathing heavily.

Pain coursed through his entire body, though the knife had only penetrated his left shoulder. He could feel the nightmare inducing poison that the demon blades possessed traveling through his veins, his blood bubbling. His shaking hand gripped the diamond studded hilt of the blade and he let out a shocked yelp as he ripped the cursed thing out of his shoulder.

"Great angel," he cursed, lunging forward and grabbing his bow.

With his left hand.

His shoulder shrieked in protest while he held onto the bow, though he continued to knock the light arrow. In front of him, the demon let out a screech.

"Hey!" Thomas yelled as something large and incredibly cold attacked him, bowling him over onto the grass.

"Sorry, angel," the demon exclaimed as they tumbled head of heels, both grappling to pin the other down. Thomas let out a sudden huff of hair as the demon slammed his body down on the ground, pinning Thomas beneath him. "Gotcha," he whispered, smirking devilishly.

"Let me go, demon!" Thomas attempted to wriggle out of their position, though his shoulder screamed at him to stop. If he could just touch his shoulder he could cure himself but -

The demon boy began whispering in some strange language that sounded like the crackling pops of fire and the hooting of owls and the sighs of the wind all at once. It was impossible to understand and yet Thomas found himself held almost under a trance as he listened.

When he stopped, the demon leapt up and sat back on the grass, his legs crossed like a child. Luminescent eyes shone feral "Feel better, angel?"

Thomas looked at his should in shock, realizing that he no longer felt the pain, All that was left was a think pink scar on his skin. "What did you do to me?" he asked, breathless. "Demons aren't supposed to be able to cure angels."

"Let's just say... I'm not a typical trickster demon, doll." The demon smirked as Thomas sat up and copied his seating. "My name's Minho by the way."

"Thomas..." Said angel stared at Minho curiously. "What did you do? I'm so...calm? I still feel like hitting you but I just...can't."

"My little secret," purred Minho, shuffling over closer to Thomas so that he was in front of him. "Tell me, what's a gorgeous angel boy doing out here all alone?"

"Nothing that concerns you," snapped Thomas, holding back a spell to banish the boy to the deepest depths of hell. Minho was an asshole, but he didn't deserve that, not yet.

A strange feeling of being uncomfortable came over Thomas as Minho swept his eyes across the angel, lingering on his face. "Your choice..."

Minho was unnaturally close to the angel, and Thomas was shocked at how the air around them felt. Static, like currents of electricity were racing through the particles and injecting them into their blood streams. "What do you want?" he asked, barely aloud. Minho leveled his eyes on Thomas's green gaze and tilted his head thoughtfully.

~WICKED~

"What do you want?" breathed Thomas, sounding torn between nervousness and awe. The calming hypnosis Minho had muttered kept him docile enough, but kept his wits about him.

Minho thought for a moment, tilting his head slightly to the left and pondering the question. He could feel an electric charge about them, Thomas's enticing green eyes pulling him slightly closer as he leaned in, the smell of his cologne or whatever it is angels use, the cool buzz of the night that tried to counteract the charged air. Through heavy eyelashes, Thomas looked at him and Minho was overcome with a new feeling.

"I think... I want you," he said quietly, thoughtfully, and foreignly nervously.

Thomas froze, shock flaring across his flawless features. "You're insane," he hissed. "Don't you have a mate? Haven't you marked some pretty little demon? Maybe a lust-filled woman or a pretty-boy to call your own?"

"I'm different," Minho told him, glaring. "I've never felt...lust. It's only ever been...something else. That's why I haven't been marked. The leaders say I'm waiting for someone special. That it's in a prophecy they keep me on a leash about."

Emerald green eyes stared in horror as whatever weight his words held began to sink in. "No," he whispered. "You can't... Oh, great angel, no."

"What is it?" demanded Minho, glaring as Thomas stood up and began flapping his wings in agitation. He was muttering in Latin under his breath, letting out modern-day swears every few lines. For once in his life Minho was able to see just how beautiful someone was. But an angel no less... "What's going on?"

"You said you're part of a prophecy?" Tomas stared, unthinkingly. "Did they ever explain it to you?"

"Just that my alliance with this special person would cause shock-waves through Hell. That's why they keep me under such a tight lock," Minho explained, narrowing his eyes. "What do you know?"

Thomas simply opened his mouth and chanted, "Born of separate suns, one of hate and one of love, two warring types shall meet in night, from hate to love they'll make their plight. One of demon young-blood and caged, the other of angel status and un-aged. Two battling forces will fall in love, and the world will either crash, or act as one."

"Are you serious?" asked Minho, startled. "That can't mean me. No way. And second, that sounds so cheesy."

"It sounds better in Angel-speak," muttered Thomas, pacing again. "They always told me I was the one of the prophecy, but I never believed them... Great angel!"

"How do you know this is the prophecy the leaders were talking about?" Minho hissed. "How?"

"It just is, okay!?" Thomas shouted, his wings shooting out. Minho leapt to his feet and put his hands on his hips.

"How. Do. You. Know?"

Thomas growled and lunged towards him, gripping Minho's shoulders roughly. "Do you feel that spark in the air?" he asked seriously. "That never happens around others. Other angels. That is the physical manifestation of attraction. Do demons learn anything in school?"

"School?" Minho chuckled weekly. "We learn mostly offense and defense. But I feel it too, don't worry."

"I'm not worried about you," he snarled. "I'm worried about myself for once. Because this isn't right. You're a demon and I'm an angel and I'm a guy and you're a guy."

"Oh, I forgot angels shun the whole male on male relationship," muttered Minho. "It's stupid. Demons don't usually understand or feel love, but if a demon is lusting after someone, why not go for it?"

"That's sick," Thomas said, shooting into the sky and perching at the very top of a tree. Minho could see the faint outline of his huge wings. With a resigned sigh, Minho shot up next to him.

The night air at the top of the branches was crisp and cool, the electric particles being manifested around them embracing him as he landed.

He turned on his flirting mode and sidled up next to the angel. "I don't know you," he whispered slowly. "But there's a prophecy for Lucifer's sake. And that charge?" Minho gripped the air tightly, feeling the tingles in the oxygen. "That isn't fake."

The angel stayed silent and Minho said, "Who are we to deny a prophecy? Why not just...go with this feeling?"

Thomas glared at him. "I don't know you, demon. We met less than ten minutes ago. Trying to figure this out is mundane and useless to anyone."

"Oh, really?" Minho stared at him and then leaned close to his ear, breathing softly. He felt Thomas shiver. Then he purred, his voice laced with desire, "Tell me this is mundane."

Before Thomas could protest, Minho had grabbed the angel's wrist and rocketed the pair into the sky, wings streamlined.

~WICKED~

Thomas was being dragged through the velvet, cold air like a rag-doll by a demon he barely knew. All he could comprehend was that they were likely a piece of a prophecy, and that he felt an overwhelming, earth-shattering attraction for Minho. His breath was being taken away by the wind in his face and then suddenly the pair of them, angel and demon, were being suspended in the air by some force below them.

Minho's hand was splayed, allowing a fortress of pure energy to develop beneath them, rippling the night sky just so. It wasn't much bigger than the area around the two. And it was a small area, considering out close together the boys were.

"Still think this is so mundane?" mocked Minho, his purple eyes shining. "Tell me this isn't the most electric you've ever felt? And don't lie to me, Thomas. I can read you like an open book."

Thomas's stomach lurched, not in a sickening way but in a nervous way, and he replied in a whisper carried on wind. "Fine. It is. I've never felt this feeling. It's making me uncomfortable."

Minho smirked, though his eyes were kind. "Can you feel how screwed up it is, then? Because I can."

The angel glowered at him. He had just forced him to admit that he was attracted to him, and then say it was messed up?

Then Minho said, "It's screwed up, but I can tell it will be worth every second."

And then his ice lips were on Thomas's hot ones, and all his thoughts of wrongness melted away for a moment. They were heaven and hell, lust and desire, love and friendship, greed and temperance, all mixed into one. It wasn't a kiss of an expert, but of two who had never found the right one and were trying their best to make up for it.

It was a mess of nipping teeth, and steaming lips, and mouths battling for dominance in the way only a demon and angel could ever manage. Thomas gripped at Minho's shoulder desperately, running his hands down his soft, cool wings and reveling in the feeling of a living person being pressed so close to him. He could feel Minho's hands tugging roughly at his hair, and he let out a growl.

Minho nipped once at his earlobe, his pointed fangs coming out as he did so. Thomas could feel the knick and the single drop of blood that fell from it. He pulled away, gasping for breath as Minho panted. When Minho leveled his eyes onto Thomas's, they were nearly pure black, not from being a demon but from pure want.

"Still think this will be just mundane and unworthy of figuring out?" asked Minho, his soft but cool voice enticing. One hand shot up and played with Thomas's halo. "Still think this is sick?"

Thomas grinned wearily. "I don't think I could have been more wrong," he replied shakily. "But I still want to get to know you better. For angel's sake, you're a demon. Who knows what kind of crazy activities you're into?"

"Same for you, angel," teased Minho. "But I guess that can be arranged."

The two stared at each other, trying to comprehend this situation. How could this be? They were perfect strangers, perfect opposites, and yet... a perfect pair.

Then Minho let out a curse. "What?" questioned Thomas worriedly, his eyebrows furrowing.

His demon laughed weakly. "How do you think our leaders are going to take this news? Will our worlds clash or act as one?" he asked, quoting the prophecy.

They were silent for a moment, and then Thomas said, "That's a problem for tomorrow."

Minho didn't reply for a long minute until he grinned and put his arm around Thomas's shoulders. "I couldn't agree more."

~WICKED~

The idea of this relationship might be damned, thought Minho curiously as Thomas flew about later in the night. But I'm going to drag it straight to hell with me to make it work if I have to.

"Now come down here, angel!" he shouted into the sky, catching Thomas's attention. "Quit being all high and mighty and come talk to me!"

His angel landed with a rustle of the grass and grinned lopsidedly. "This is going to be one hell of a journey."

"And we're going to kick its ass."

~WICKED~

So yeah, I'm not quite sure where this came from... XD I've never written a kissing scene like that though, so I hope it was okay. And aghkjds;fkj Thomas was OOC. DX But I couldn't make him in character... I just couldn't. I was physically stopped when I tried. XD

Please review! I'd love to hear your thoughts on demon!Minho and angel!Thomas. Thanks for reading this! :3 I guess you all can take up the story from here in your own minds... :)

~Dani

BTW points to anyone who googles the name. It might have been translated wrong, so sorry if it is!