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Yunho had another bad day. It seemed he was having exclusively bad days as of late. He knew he was not to judge his neighbors, that was made clear to him, but he had to wonder why it seemed that the whole world was becoming entrenched in sin. Every direction he looked seemed to be some poor soul who was suffering and an evil that had caused it. He saw hopelessness and hatred and horrible displays of lust and greed. He felt there must be something he could do to help the world, but his attempts just left him feeling barren, overworked, with nothing left to give. It made him feel weak. He knew that the righteous path was hard, full of sacrifices that he should be willing to make, but each day lately had been harder and harder to get through. Sometimes he wondered if God’s plan was really for him, if it was worth all the strife, but he never said these doubts out loud.
He had spent his day in prayer, in designing sermons for the following Sunday service, in listening to confessions and absolving people of their sins, all the while feeling like it was hopeless and hating himself for losing the steadfast faith he had always had. He had plenty of faith in God, but he was losing it in his fellow man. What good was a Sunday sermon if no one listened? What good was forgiving people for their sins if they would just leave and do them again? How could he make them learn? How could he help them see the Light as he had?
It was late at night and Yunho couldn’t sleep. His mind was plagued with fear and anxiety about the state of the world. After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, he slipped out of bed and dropped to his knees, hands clasped together.
“Heavenly Father, I ask of You the strength to carry out Your good work. I feel my resolve is failing, and I ask that You, God Almighty, will grant me the vivacity I require to do good. I know that if I persevere I can save those around me from sin, and I ask that where I feel weak, You may show me the depths of Your grace. Thank you for the calling that has drawn me to this work and I pray for the continued courage to do right by you. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
Yunho muttered the prayer under his breath, eyes shut tightly. When he was finished, he blinked his eyes back open with a satisfied sigh and crawled back into bed. He felt much more content, more at ease, and sleep found him swiftly. He knew that the next day he would do better, and that was all he could ask for.
The next morning he readied himself for the day silently, reciting verses in his mind that he thought would be good to have on the tip of his tongue that day. When he was dressed he exited the rectory with a bright smile and admired the sky on his short walk to the church. It was a beautiful golden hue at the edges, the sun only just having risen, and the fluffy wisps of clouds decorated the space above him with softness that brought him comfort.
He unlocked the front door and stepped inside, feeling an instant relief of his soul to be in such a sacred place. He always felt closest to God within these walls, the ceilings high and the windows shining sacred light through the colored glass panes that depicted the story of The Bible. It cast rainbows against the walls and floors, little islands of color that danced along the otherwise beige and grey of the stone. He took a moment to appreciate the simplicity of its beauty before heading towards the office in the back to organize himself for the day. He needed to plan out how he would get his tasks done.
As he approached the back of the building, Yunho started to hear singing, deep and light and beautiful. It echoed off the stone walls of the near empty building. It seemed to grow louder the closer he got until it was all consuming, enveloping him in a warmth that made his eyes misty. He felt he should be more worried, but it was hard to be uneasy when the voice was so ethereal, enchanting him. It was a hymn he recognized and he found himself humming along.
Guardian angel,
from heaven so bright,
Watching beside me,
to lead me aright,
Fold your wings round me,
O guard me with love,
Softly sing songs to me,
of heav’n above.
“Hello?” Yunho asked softly as he tentatively opened the door to the office. He let out a small gasp at the sight before him. A man was perched on the large wooden desk he often worked at, legs stretched out before him. He looked peaceful as he lounged there. The singing stopped at the intrusion, his mouth parted ever so slightly to accommodate the sound that almost was. He was beautiful. His features were soft and his white hair framed his pretty face, making his brown eyes pop. They looked like they held the depths of something Yunho could not comprehend, something terribly wonderful and frightfully powerful. He was wearing all white, his clothes flowy and light. They seemed to float around his body more than sit upon it. It was almost as if he was glowing.
The man stood up, his lips stretched in a kind smile, eyes soft. When he was on his feet, Yunho had the startling realization that the man had wings. They were large, feathered things that tucked behind him where they sprouted from his back. The wings were mostly white with mottled honey-golds at the ends of the feathers, spotting around in such a way that it seemed the man was gilded. There was no way this could be real, Yunho thought.
“Be not afraid, Yunho,” the man said. His voice was smooth, deep, but soft as can be. It was a comfortable voice that relaxed the tall man. “I am Yeosang.” The man had a lisp.
“Wha- what are you?” the taller man asked slowly.
“I'm an angel, of course,” Yeosang said simply. “God heard your prayer and he sent me to assist you. I am here to be your strength.”
“I- I am honored to be in your presence then,” Yunho stuttered out. He felt shaky with nerves. He didn’t feel deserving to stand in front of such a glorious creation of God. He wondered if anyone was truly worthy of being near such a beautiful thing.
Yeosang continued to smile, his eyes light. He glanced around full of curiosity. “I’ve never been to Earth,” he said quietly. “It is very pretty here.”
“It certainly is… in places. This church is the most gorgeous part of this world if you ask me,” Yunho grinned, reaching out a hand to the strong, stone walls that held up the earthly thing he loved the most. “I spend most of my time here.”
The angel nodded a little. “Yes, God told me you work very hard to carry out His will. I suppose a church is a good place to do that.” He started walking closer, eyeing the man with interest. “Humans are so fascinating,” he muttered before straightening up again and speaking louder. “How may I assist you, Yunho?”
The taller one covered his face lightly with a hand, nervous and blushing under the angel’s scrutiny. “I’m not really sure,” he whispered. “Maybe you should just watch me go about my day and then you can tell me where I’m going wrong.”
Yeosang hummed. “Are you so sure you’re doing wrong?”
“I must be,” Yunho sighed sadly. “I- I am so full of hopelessness lately, so much anger. Humanity seems to be failing and I have no idea how to save us. Try as I might, I’m not sure I’m making any difference.”
“Why should the responsibility fall to you?” the angel asked with interest. He reached a wing around and started preening himself, a frown forming on his lips. He scratched at it lightly and a feather drifted to the floor, white and gold and perfect and no longer a part of him.
“Do you molt?” Yunho found himself asking before he could stop himself. He reached down to pick the feather up before hesitating, glancing to the angel as if asking for permission.
Yeosang giggled a little and gestured to the feather with a hand, watching as the tall man picked it up and twirled it around in his fingers in awe. “No, we don’t. Angels aren’t supposed to lose their feathers. I’ve always been a bit… odd, however.”
“Odd?”
The angel shrugged, his smile faltering slightly. “I don’t exactly fit in with the others,” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers now that his wing was back in place. “We don’t always agree. In fact, we usually don’t. Between you and me, I think that’s why God sent me here. I think he wants you to teach me how to be a better angel.”
Yunho’s eyes widened. “Surely that’s not the case,” he chuckled nervously. “I’m in no way qualified for such a thing.”
Yeosang shrugged, still fiddling. “God seems to hold you in high regard.”
The tall man’s cheeks brightened. He felt warm, proud and embarrassed from the praise all at once. “I do everything for Him. It means a lot to hear that from one of His messengers.”
The angel smiled wider, more genuine, eyes soft. “Well, Yunho, why don’t you show me what you do and I will help in any way I can.”
Yeosang followed Yunho all day, staying close, watching intently. He assured him that no other human would be able to see him, only Yunho. It made things a little awkward for the man. He didn’t want to ignore the angel, but talking to him in front of people who could neither see nor hear him was out of the question. Yeosang didn’t seem to mind, however. He just watched and occasionally got distracted by the things around him. He seemed truly fascinated with the human realm, watching the people intently, reading over their shoulders and giggling at almost everything they did.
When it was close to noon, Yunho brought Yeosang aside so they could talk without the whole church believing him to be insane. “I’m going to get some lunch soon. Uh, do- do angels need to eat? Can you eat human food? Do you need anything?” he rambled nervously.
The angel shook his head. “I don’t need to eat. We don’t have food in Heaven, at least not in a comparable way,” he explained. Yunho tried not to dwell on that, though he was endlessly curious as to what that meant. He didn’t want to take advantage of Yeosang being there and get information he shouldn’t be privy to. He would learn one day when he was rewarded for his devotion, he knew. “I am curious about food though,” Yeosang giggled. “Is it tasty?”
“Good food is the closest you can get to Heaven on Earth, I think,” Yunho chuckled. “But just like anything, really, there’s bad food too. Bad food is very unpleasant.” The tall man hummed in thought for a moment. “I was going to reheat some leftovers at home. I don’t usually like leaving the church for long stretches of time… But, if you want to try good food, we should go out.”
Yeosang’s eyes brightened, his grin widening. “Could we?”
“Sure. Let me just tell the deacon that I’ll be stepping out for a meal. When we get back we’ll probably be helping him organize a food drive for next week.”
The angel followed closely behind as Yunho talked with the deacon for a few minutes, organizing their day and letting him know of his absence. “Of course, Father,” the man said with a kind smile. Yeosang continued to stay close as they left the church.
“Oh, wow, the sky,” the angel giggled. “I haven’t seen it in the day yet.”
Yunho chuckled at his enthusiasm. He watched in awe as Yeosang flew up, his powerful wings flapping with ease. He circled a bit, laughing, before landing back beside the priest. Yunho spoke softly, “You are so full of love.”
“There’s a lot to love here,” Yeosang said with a smile.
Yunho brought them to a nearby restaurant and ordered a few things that he felt the angel should try. They shared the food, and the tall man was entranced by the way Yeosang lit up with glee at all the new tastes and sensations. He sat across from him at the table, legs kicking idly. Yunho thought it was all very cute. “Is it yummy?” he asked with a smile.
The angel nodded. “It’s delicious! I can’t believe humans can create something so wonderful. You are very interesting creatures. I see why God loves you so much. I wish I could make things.”
“Why can’t you?” Yunho asked curiously.
Yeosang set a bite of food down, frowning a little. He wrapped his wings around himself, scratching at the feathers, distracted. “I want to, but I don’t have any powers. God says I haven’t earned them.”
“You mentioned you don’t get along with the others,” Yunho said gently. “Why is that?”
The angel scratched harder at his wing, a few feathers drifting to the ground. “I love God, of course. I do. I really, really do. He is my Creator and He is so kind… it’s just… sometimes I don’t agree with what he does. The others don’t like that.”
The priest’s eyes widened. “Wh-why not?”
“He claims He loves you. I want to think that’s true. But, He also hurts you, and it seems the only reason for it is so He can know you’re devoted to Him. It feels selfish, honestly. It drives people away and- and it’s so painful to watch,” Yeosang said slowly, averting his gaze. He kept scratching at his wing, more frantically now. He let out a small hiss of pain and sat up straighter, bringing his wings to his back suddenly. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “You must think awfully of me.”
Yunho shook his head. “No, no. Of course not. I just think you are misguided. The sorrows of this world are the fault of humanity ignoring God’s plan. He holds no malice towards us.”
“He abandons people. When they’re at their lowest, He abandons them. He doesn’t care if they aren’t giving themselves to Him,” the angel sighed, holding himself. “It feels abusive, like there’s no way to win. You either give your life in devotion or you’re punished for living it. He put you here to live a mortal life, but He doesn't want you to enjoy it. There’s so much to enjoy, I can tell already. I’d hate having to give up so much just to appease him.”
The priest opened his mouth to respond, but paused with a frown when the angel let out another uncomfortable noise, bringing his wings back to the front and rubbing at them gently as if soothing an ache. Another few feathers fell. “Does that happen a lot?” Yunho asked, leaning closer. “Are you in pain?”
“It gets like this when I-” Yeosang paused and glanced up to meet his gaze. “It’s just a punishment,” he whispered. “Given what’s happened to other angels like me in the past, it’s really not a terrible one. It’s just a reminder of who I serve.”
“Is it because you disagree with Him?” Yunho clarified. The angel nodded, eyes dropping to the floor. “Do you think you would do a better job if you were in His place?”
“No. I don’t think I’m anywhere near perfect,” Yeosang sighed, leaning his head in his hand. “I don’t think it’s possible to be fully good or fully bad. I think that’s why He doesn’t cast me out. I’m not trying to overthrow Him in any way. I am not sinful in that way.”
“Are you-” Yunho cleared his throat, nervous. “Are you sinful in other ways?”
“Certainly. Aren’t we all?” Yeosang chuckled. “That’s just a byproduct of having free will.”
“If not pride, then what sin do you struggle with?” the priest asked carefully.
The angel hummed a bit, his cheeks dusting with pink. “I covet what I cannot have,” he whispered. “Like Earth, for instance. I think humans have such an interesting life. I’m a little jealous. I suppose the sin I struggle with most is greed. I want and I want and I want.”
Yunho shook his head. “Greed is selfish. I think you’re just curious.”
“I want things I am not allowed to abate my curiosity. Is that not selfish?”
“What about this world aren’t you allowed?”
“Everything,” Yeosang sighed, sadly. “The Kingdom of Heaven is a very different place. It’s extremely rare an angel is allowed to leave to Earth. We are supposed to stay at God’s side and carry out His will and that does not allow for flying with the clouds or eating French fries.”
“Are you going to get in trouble because I gave you those?” Yunho asked with a gulp.
“No more trouble than I always get in,” the angel giggled. “A little itching is worth it. I wish I could experience more while I’m here.”
“Then- then you should,” the priest whispered, surprising himself. If God didn’t want Yeosang to have human experiences, he shouldn’t be encouraging him, but the idea that the angel could be laughing and smiling at things he found so incredibly mundane was interesting to him. It made his heart ache. “Maybe watching you experience them will help me regain my faith in others and allow me to help them more. Maybe experiencing these things is supposed to help you appreciate the life you live, and understand God better. Perhaps this is what is supposed to happen.”
Yeosang tilted his head in thought. He didn’t look like he believed the man, but he nodded all the same. “I think it’s worth a try.”
“Alright,” Yunho said resolutely. “Today you will watch me carry out my work and provide insight on what I could be doing differently. Tomorrow I will help you experience what it is to be human.”
“I like the sound of this,” Yeosang said softly.
“We should start with getting you ice cream.”
The angel found that he loved ice cream.
Yeosang hovered around and watched as Yunho worked. He watched the priest pray and organize and talk with the people in his community. He watched the community’s obvious affection and respect for the man, watched them go to him for all sorts of things they felt they needed help with. When they went outside with a small group of children so they could help tend to the grounds as part of an after school activity, Yeosang got distracted easily. The deacon was explaining to the kids about all the plants they had on the property and helping them weed and the angel was endlessly curious about it all to the point that he didn’t even realize when Yunho had headed back inside.
The priest had been talking with a man who was asking for advice about his struggles with sin and when the man left he turned to discuss how difficult it was for him to remain calm and collected when he heard about such awful things, only to find he was alone. He walked to the window and saw the angel crouched near a patch of flowers. Something must have startled him because he jumped a little and fell back on his behind. Yunho chuckled at the sight, his feelings of annoyance and despair dissipating.
Yunho returned outside and crouched next to Yeosang. “What was so scary over here?” he asked quietly.
The angel pointed to one of the flower’s leaves. “It’s such a tiny creature. A-an insect? That’s what it is, right?”
The priest nodded and coaxed the thing into his hand. It crawled around slowly, not seeming to mind the new location. “It’s a ladybug.” He held his hand out, offering the bug to the angel who placed his hand next to his and waited patiently for the beetle to crawl onto his hand. As soon as he drew near, the ladybug seemed to change course and dart straight to his skin, like it wanted to be close to the divine. Yunho couldn’t blame it. Being so near to Yeosang made him feel warm and comforted in a way he normally only felt when he was singing hymns. It was a simple, innate thing.
“It’s very pretty,” the angel whispered in awe. He watched the insect fondly for a while and Yunho found he couldn’t tear his gaze from Yeosang’s eyes, watching the way his pupils tracked the ladybug’s movement. They seemed endlessly full of wonder and joy and all things good, the light of God. The priest wondered if his eyes ever looked like that, if it was something that always happened when seeing the reflection of God’s creations in somebody’s eyes, or if it was simply because it was Yeosang.
“You’re very pretty too,” Yunho whispered back. “Are all angels so beautiful?”
Yeosang nodded a little. “God says we have to be. Do you really think I’m pretty?”
“Of course.”
“There are no mirrors in Heaven,” the angel said nervously. “I’m not really sure what I look like. I’ve only seen little reflections here and there.” He let the ladybug crawl back onto the leaf, watching it with fondness in his eyes. “If you think I’m pretty, I will believe you.”
Yunho stood and offered his hand to the angel, helping him up. A jolt of energy seemed to zap through him at their touch, causing him to shudder. “Come see then.”
He led Yeosang inside to the bathroom and stood aside to give him room. The angel looked in wonder at his reflection. He leaned in close to it and touched around his face, humming to himself what sounded like a hymn that Yunho couldn’t quite place. He brought his fingers softly to his birth mark. “I knew this was here,” he said quietly. “It’s really incredible to see it so clearly. Not being able to see it is torture.”
“Why is that?”
The angel turned to him, smiling. “This is where God touched to imbue me with life. All angels have a mark, but not many have it in a place so hard to see,” he explained. He turned back to the mirror and stepped back a little, starting to pull at the fabric that was wrapped around his body, revealing his chest. He kept going until all his coverings were removed, the white fabric pooling at his bare feet. Yunho made a small strangled sound in the back of his throat and glanced away, trying not to stare at the angel’s naked form despite how beautiful it was. “Human’s are so modest,” Yeosang giggled, grabbing the man’s attention again, eyes snapping to the angel’s face.
“I-it doesn’t seem right to witness such a thing,” Yunho mumbled, keeping his eyes locked to Yeosang’s, seeing the way his body moved out of the corner of his vision as the angel looked around at his body, examining it.
When the angel spoke his words held the lightness of laughter. “Shouldn’t you want to appreciate all of His creations? I don’t mind if you see me.”
Yunho swallowed uncomfortably and let his eyes trail down the angel’s body. He was perfect, muscled yet soft, skin smooth and entrancing. He looked so much like a human that the priest was almost taken aback. Surely an angel would look different. The only thing that was notably off was the lack of a belly button. Otherwise it was a one to one with every body he had ever seen, just with wings sprouting from his back, just between his shoulder blades.
The priest took a deep breath and stepped forward. “I wasn’t expecting you to look like this,” he mumbled.
“God only got creative with the animals,” Yeosang giggled. He turned to Yunho and drew closer. “Can I see?”
The priest took a sudden step backwards, face flushed. “I- is that a good idea?”
“I don’t see why it would be a bad one,” the angel laughed as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
Yunho nodded a little and raised his fingertips to his neck, brushing against the clerical collar that sat there. He shook his head and took a step back, a sudden flood of clarity rushing to his brain. “I- I shouldn’t take this off in the church.”
Yeosang just nodded and turned back to the mirror, the hymn he was humming emanating from him once more. “Thank you for bringing me here,” he whispered quietly after a while. He grabbed his clothes and started putting them back on, the flowy fabric wrapping around his body delicately. “Tell me, Yunho, do you like being a human?”
“Why wouldn't I?” the priest chuckled.
The angel shrugged with a small sigh as he finished dressing. “The ladybug outside doesn’t have to worry about all the things you do.”
“Ladybugs can’t have fun like we can,” Yunho chuckled. “I don’t think they go to Heaven, either.”
“Mmm, no. I wish they did, though. They’re very cute things. I’d love to see more of them.”
The priest was struck with how adoring the angel was, how content he was with the things of Earth in a way that Yunho had lost long ago. “Yeosang, how long are you going to be on Earth?” Yunho asked suddenly.
The angel ran a hand through his hair, fingers brushing the white strands and making them messier. “I go back when you feel you don’t need me anymore.”
“What if that takes a long time?” the tall man sighed.
“Then I will be here for a long time.”
Yunho hoped it would be a while, and he felt mad at himself for having such a selfish thought.
Days passed and made way for weeks. Weeks passed and made way for months. Still Yeosang stayed, ever watching, ever curious about man. During Sunday services, the angel sang along with their hymns and joined them in prayer, and the people of the church could feel the difference, could feel how close they were to God. They had no idea why it was that way, but it strengthened their faith and Yunho was growing busier answering their questions, giving advice, pointing them in the right direction of passages and prayers to help them. Still, the priest did not feel like he was making a big enough difference.
Yeosang reassured him often, imploring him to see how beloved he was by the people around him, how much they relied on him. It did not keep Yunho from seeing the horrors that befell men- the news of war and murder and political corruption- and feel like he was personally failing. Despite things going so well, in a lot of ways he was feeling even worse. He still prayed often, asking for guidance, asking for something more, but those prayers were never answered. He had Yeosang. That was more guidance than most got.
One evening the two were eating dinner, a meal prepared by Yunho with Yeosang’s help. The angel wasn’t the best cook they had learned, not having any experience and not used to the flavors yet, but he was good at following directions and enthusiastic to help, so they often cooked together. Whenever Yunho wasn’t working at the church, he was giving Yeosang experiences. He took the angel to the movies, to the park, played games with him, found him books to read. He showed him everything he could think of, even things that seemed too boring to be of interest to the angel, but they always were and it always surprised the priest how much the divine being could enjoy such insignificant things.
As they ate their dinner, Yeosang started asking questions about humans, a common occurrence. “What’s the best part of being human?” he asked.
Yunho considered this for a while, chewing through a few bites of food. “I suppose love,” he said finally. “Connection, community, that sort of thing. Closeness.”
Yeosang nodded a little. “I suppose it is nice,” he relented, a small frown on his lips. “But how is that unique to humans? Angels have closeness with God. Animals can have connections, like those penguins from the documentary we watched.”
“I- I’m not sure,” the priest sighed. He wasn’t aggravated by the questions, nor was he annoyed at Yeosang, but sometimes the angel would ask something that seemed so difficult to answer it made him question too much, and the bitterness that was growing rampant in his heart would pulse, strengthened by the frustration. Was there anything humans had that other beings didn’t? “Angels don’t get married,” he pointed out after some tense silence.
Yeosang shook his head. “No, we have no need to. We don’t get married or have a partner in any way. We don’t have sex either.”
“Hmm, I suppose that’s a difference then. We love in a way that leads to marriage, a sacrament under God. It’s one of the most human things I can think of, to love so strongly we must profess it for all to know, God included,” Yunho said with a small smile.
“What’s that sort of love like?” Yeosang asked curiously, his food long forgotten.
The priest shrugged. “I’m not the one to ask. It’s not something I will ever experience.”
“Don’t you think that’s sad?” Yeosang asked quietly.
“No, not at all. I’ve devoted my life to God and remaining celibate helps me keep that focus. It’s something that I chose for myself,” Yunho tried to explain, a frown forming on his face.
The angel brought his wings closer to him, scratching at them lightly. They were becoming disheveled the longer he was on Earth, the feathers ruffled and small patches forming where the feathers were too thin, so many of them having fallen off amidst the scratching and the preening. “You gave up the thing you believe is the most human, just to be close with God?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. I- I think- it’s a sacrifice, but it was a necessary one for me,” Yunho said sternly, silently pleading for the questioning to stop. He didn’t mean to snap at the angel, but the line of questioning was beginning to make him uncomfortable. He knew deep in his heart that he was right, that his vow was beneficial to his work and to his faith, but the surface of his heart was stained with sorrow and had been since he became a priest.
“I’m sorry,” Yeosang muttered sadly. “I just… want you to be happy.”
“I am happy serving God,” the priest sighed. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I do worry about you,” the angel said quietly. “I worry a lot.”
A few days later, Yeosang found out that hugs feel nice, and the angel started to take advantage of that every chance he got, wrapping his arms (and sometimes wings) around the priest and sighing at the comfort. Every touch from the angel sent shivers down Yunho’s spine, and he wasn’t sure if it felt good or terrifying or both, but he hugged back all the same. Since then, Yeosang had been getting increasingly touchy. He used to spend the nights sitting outside, singing softly, or reading. He didn’t need to sleep, so he occupied his time with anything that wouldn’t wake the priest up. But now he started to lay with Yunho, wrapping them both in his wings, and closing his eyes. He didn’t sleep, but he enjoyed the coziness and he rested. They always woke up to a few stray feathers littering the bed.
Yunho wasn’t sure how to feel about it. There was part of him that knew it was wrong, but he could never rationalize why. It was innocent and if a divine being wanted to sleep in his arms, who was he to deny him that?
One night they were laying in bed and Yunho couldn’t sleep. He stared up at the ceiling, idly petting at the feathered wing that lay over his chest, and humming to himself a hymn that had been on his mind a lot those days. Yeosang started singing along. He seemed to always be ready to sing, his voice flitting through the air as delicately as a bird, filling the room with song. It comforted the priest, but not in the way he needed. It was moments like that where he was beginning to lose sight of God. He was never as happy being a priest as he was being Yeosang’s companion. The thought scared him more than anything ever had, but he also felt it was true.
Guardian angel,
from heaven so bright
When the hymn ended, Yunho pulled Yeosang closer, their bodies pressed together in the dark of the room, sighing in discontent. “I feel like things are changing, and I’m not sure how to handle that,” he muttered.
“What do you mean? Changing how?” the angel asked softly.
“I’m starting to question things,” the tall man whispered into the dark. He was thinking about the questions Yeosang had asked about love, thinking about how he had given the very thing up to give all the love he had to God, thinking about how he felt his life was going in the wrong direction but had no way of articulating why. Things were good. He knew this logically. He was passionate about his job and he was good at it, good enough that God himself had sent him an angel at his request. Surely that should count for something.
“What are you starting to question?” Yeosang asked, nuzzling into his side.
“E-everything,” the priest whispered. “I don’t know if I’m doing what I want to anymore. I’m not sure- I don’t know why I chose this life.”
“You’ve always said you became a priest because you felt it was your calling,” Yeosang said gently, trying to remind him of his dreams, of his spirit. “You were called by God, right?”
Watching beside me,
to lead me aright
“I am thankful to God for giving me that calling. I am thankful that He gave me you,” Yunho sighed, deep and sad. “But, I am not sure if there’s anything that has truly felt worth it. I am still plagued by the sadness I see. I don’t want to be the one picking up the pieces anymore, not when I just watch them fall back down. I feel like Sisyphus.”
“What are you missing most?” the angel asked, curious as always.
“Love.” The tall man groaned, and looked Yeosang in the eyes. “I think you were right. It is sad. I don’t feel human sometimes.”
The angel moved even closer, crawling on top of him, his legs slotting between the man's, his arms and wings wrapped around him tightly. He peered down at Yunho and frowned. “If I could feel human, I know it would make me so very happy. The idea that you are losing that feeling hurts me deeply.”
“I wish you could feel human,” the priest sighed, smiling gently up at the angel. He reached up to caress Yeosang’s cheek.
“Help me feel it,” Yeosang whispered, leaning closer, their faces a breath apart. “Kiss me.”
Yunho’s breath hitched, the world turning still. He stared up at the angel that lay on top of him, his vision obscured by the being’s feathered wings that cloaked them in warmth and safety, as if it could stop God’s gaze from reaching the scene. He wondered if Yeosang was really sent by God or if this was all a plot by the devil to drag the priest into sin, caught in the crossfire of the constant battle between Heaven and Hell. He wondered if Hell would be that bad, if he should care more that he was throwing his life’s work away in an instant, ruining the purity of a divine being, but he couldn’t find it in him to mind. There was no way Heaven could be better than the way Yeosang’s lips felt against his.
Fold your wings round me,
O guard me with love
Why had he been working tirelessly just for the idea of salvation when holiness was right in front of him, body pressed against his own? Their lips moved against each other in slow, sweetness. Yeosang shuddered above him and the priest felt wetness hit his skin. He pulled back slowly and stared at the angel, eyes wide with concern. Feathers were falling all around him and Yeosang’s eyes were wet, tears trailing down his face.
“I don’t want to go back,” Yeosang whispered. He pressed his lips back against Yunho’s, frantic and needy in a way that felt like a prayer. His desperation drew out small whimpers from him, muffled by the priest’s lips. “I don’t want to go,” he muttered again into the kiss, a small sob escaping him.
Yunho held him close as they continued to kiss, as the feathers continued to fall, as their bodies moved together, drawing out sounds of pleasure from the both of them. They rolled their hips against each other, trembling from the jolts of ecstasy that shot through them. It was new and terrifying and it felt so good, so right. The priest ran his hands down the angel’s back, caressing his body, resting his hands on his hips. Yeosang’s tears dwindled and were replaced with gasps and moans as their movements became less structured, chasing something. The angel moaned into the priest’s mouth as they found their release, shaking and gasping for air.
Softly sing songs to me,
of heav’n above.
The room seemed to spin with the clarity of what just happened as they came down from everything. Yunho’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up at the angel with a confusing mix of fondness and curiosity and shame. Yeosang looked back with a similar look. The only movement came from the feathers that continued to fall, drifting down from the angel’s wings in gentle rocking motions as the air caught them and brought them gently to the mattress below.
“I’m sorry,” Yeosang whispered, sitting up. He couldn’t seem to look the man in the eyes, wrapping his wings around himself and scratching at them frantically. More and more of the feathers fell off into the forming pile, white and gold, leaving patches of his wings bare and irritated. Yunho’s eyes widened when the first drop of red joined them.
“Y-Yeosang, stop,” he said quickly, reaching up to grab the angel’s hand, stilling it.
“No, no it’s- it hurts- I h-have to fix it,” he muttered, yanking his hand free.
“It hurts,” the priest repeated, desperately sad. “Why would He hurt you?”
Yeosang shook his head, new tears forming in his eyes. “He doesn’t like that- that my devotion is not solely His.”
Yunho’s faith in God had been wavering for some time. He was constantly questioning why. Why was the world the way it was? Why were people so cruel? Why couldn’t he seem to stop it all? Why did his work no longer make him happy? These were questions that plagued him but were easy enough to ignore during the day when his thoughts were preoccupied with his work, with his prayers. The question of why would God willingly hurt such a beautiful, sweet being, just for wanting to experience the joy of love, was not a question he could ignore. He felt tears sting his eyes and he sighed, resolving to focus on the angel before him instead of the turmoil in his head or the way God’s Light seemed to dim in his mind. He wanted to be close to Yeosang right then, not God.
Yunho turned them onto their sides, holding Yeosang close so he would stop fidgeting with the growing wounds, the priest’s hand smoothing over the angel’s wing. “Just focus on me,” he whispered. “Scratching is just going to make it worse.” When he brought their lips together again, Yeosang seemed to melt into it, trying to focus on the feeling of their closeness rather than his discomfort and pain. The feathers continued to fall and they continued to kiss, sweet and steady, late into the night.
The next time they pulled apart, white and gold fluff surrounding them, Yeosang was whimpering again, his wings completely bare. “It- it still hurts,” he cried. “I don’t know how to make it stop.”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Yunho breathed, heart clenching in his chest.
The angel shook his head, smiling despite the tears trickling down. “I’m so happy you did,” he said softly. “I-I want to stay here and be with you, Yunho. I don’t need these wings.”
“You’re in pain,” the priest’s voice cracked. He looked at one of the wings carefully, the skin rashy and dry, so irritated and cracked that it was bleeding in spots. They were pitiful things, small and featherless and so obviously painful. “What can I do to help?”
“I just want to stay by your side,” Yeosang said slowly, eyes blinking away the wetness slowly. “I feel… odd. I just want to… lay here,” he mumbled, getting comfortable. “Just stay with me.”
Yunho nodded and held the angel close, watching in awe as he seemingly fell asleep.
Throughout the night and early morning, Yeosang would wake up, bleary and confused, hissing in pain as his wings bled, seeming to shrivel. All Yunho could do was stay with him, wiping the blood away with a wet rag, gently comforting the angel the best he could. He kissed him gently, lips moving against his skin, against his body. When Yeosang seemed to be rested enough to stay awake, whimpering and whining from the pain, Yunho helped him to the bathroom and drew him a bath, cleaning him of the blood and the mess of their activities the night before. The water seemed to soothe him, but his wings continued to quite literally fall apart.
By two in the afternoon, the only thing left of the angel's wings were small nubs, bloody and sore, sticking out from his shoulders. Yeosang had fallen asleep again, his body exhausted from the pain and the damage, and Yunnho let him rest as he found something to cook for them. He couldn’t help but feel the guilt eating away at him. He wanted to scream, wanted to take the angel’s pain, wanted to be punished for his transgressions. But, every time Yeosang opened his eyes, regardless of how he was feeling physically, he smiled at the priest, longed to be closer, brought their lips together like nothing was wrong.
There was a knock on the door and Yunho startled, rushing to open it, spoon still in hand from stirring the soup he was working on. He opened it and grimaced when he found that the deacon was staring back at him, a look of concern plastered to his face.
“Father, are you alright?” he asked gently. “You haven’t been at the church all day. We need to prepare tomorrow’s sermon.”
The priest sighed, glancing back inside quickly before stepping just outside the door. He was wearing pajamas, clean ones he had changed into after showering himself during one of the bouts of sleep the angel went through, but it was embarrassing all the same. “I-I am so sorry. I should have gotten in contact with you. I’ve just been… out of sorts,” he said nervously.
“What is wrong, Father?”
“I’m just feeling under the weather, I think. Coming down with something,” Yunho said quickly. “I think- I think perhaps you should handle the sermon tomorrow. I doubt I will be feeling up to it.”
Yunho was a priest that was shirking his responsibilities to God and to the people of his community in order to continue kissing a fallen angel who was still writhing in pain in his bedroom, who he helped bring to orgasm the night before. He wasn’t even aware angels could do such a thing. Maybe they normally couldn’t, but it seemed Yeosang was not an ordinary angel, especially now that his wings were reduced to a pile of bloody feathers sitting on the priest’s dresser. Either way it was a terrible situation and he looked the deacon of his church in the eye and lied about it. He was worried the pits of Hell would open beneath his feet just then and there and swallow him whole.
He had to lie through his teeth to get the deacon to leave, assuring him over and over that he was fine and didn’t need anything but rest, that he didn’t need to come inside. He wouldn’t be able to see the sleeping angel in his bed, but Yunho wasn’t so sure about the feathers or the blood, and that would only cause problems. Eventually he was able to return inside and finish his soup, trying to ignore all the twisted feelings in his gut.
Yeosang was thankful for the food when the priest returned to his room some time later, balancing two steaming bowls in his hands. “My gut feels weird,” the angel muttered. “Eating sounds so good right now.”
“Weird how?” Yunho chuckled, sitting beside him.
“Like… rumbly.”
“That sounds like hunger,” the tall man said, fascinated. “Yeosang do you think- could you be turning into a human? You’ve lost your wings and you’ve been sleeping and now it seems you’re hungry.”
The angel shrugged. “I-I guess it’s possible,” he sighed before taking a bite. “It sounds too good to be true though. I wonder if God would allow such a thing,” he added bitterly.
“I know He loves you, Yeosang. Even if you’ve done wrong and need to be punished, He loves you. Maybe this is His way of showing it,” Yunho said gently.
“Maybe,” Yeosang said after a long moment. “I think it’s more likely that I’ve been abandoned. That’s what he always does when people are at their lowest.”
The priest wasn’t sure what to say to that. He understood the angel’s perspective. He was feeling bitter himself, his whole life crumbling before him because he cared for a perfect being that God himself had created. It seemed unfair that this would displease the Lord, that he would be sentenced to an eternity in Hell for loving something so lovable. He wasn’t as scared as he would have thought about the idea. Maybe it hadn’t fully hit him, but at the moment he was too tired to care about the unfairness of it all, to dwell on how things would change. He was sitting next to Yeosang, enjoying a meal and sharing sweet kisses with him. That was enough.
“I won’t abandon you,” Yunho said finally. He knew deep in his heart, regardless of what happened to his soul, it would never be untethered from the angel by his side.
The following weeks were difficult and wonderful and terrifying. Yeosang had certainly become human. His wings were gone, others could see him, and he was experiencing hunger and tiredness and all the other human things he had always been curious about, including horniness. It was something they were navigating to the best of their abilities, awkwardly figuring things out and trying to keep the new human comfortable. Yeosang seemed rather happy about it all, even if he was a big baby about hunger, even if he missed flying. He thought it was a good trade off to be human and be by Yunho’s side.
Yunho was stepping down from his position, moving out of the rectory, and finding something new to do with his life. He supposed he wanted to keep helping the community. He just couldn’t find it in himself to do that under God’s command. He had options. He had experience with working, having been with the church for so long. It was harder to figure out a place for Yeosang who knew little about the world around him, hadn’t so much as grown up on Earth.
It was also odd not being at the church all the time. Yunho had lived on the grounds, worked as a priest for years, and before that he had devoted his life to get to that point and be blessed with Holy Orders. He wondered if the mark on his soul would counteract any of the sins he had been swallowed by. There were some nights that he lay awake in fear, worrying about his soul. On those nights Yeosang would cry with him, both of them trembling at their betrayal of God. Some nights Yunho couldn’t care less. Heaven or Hell didn’t matter when Yeosang was pressed close, his gasps and moans as beautiful as any hymn the man had heard him sing.
As far as the ex-priest was concerned, Yeosang was just as holy and divine as he always had been, even without his wings, without his status. He was perfect. The first time they had sex, fully intentional and penetrative sex, Yunho felt as if he was sullying the last piece of purity that the man had. It felt warped, twisted, and so beautiful. They seemed to be one, connected physically and emotionally, connected by their very souls, and that was enough for Yunho to feel he had made the right choices in his life. The choices that led him down his path of righteousness and the choices that led him astray, all culminated in something he felt stronger than his love of God had ever been.
He felt incredibly human and he was in love with an angel that had fallen from grace. Being with Yeosang would be worth whatever Hell had waiting for him.