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Beomgyu had a tragic history regarding love, each one of them ending in agony and bloodshed.

Daphne, Cassandra, Castalia, Thalia, Calliope, the list went on and on and the more he walked down memory lane, the more he wondered why he even tried. I mean, three of his potential lovers flung themselves off cliffs just to avoid being with him while a vast majority turned into local flora. Was he that horrible of a being?

Of those lovers, there was one who he’d cradled in his fondest and most bittersweet memories, one of the few that didn’t meet their heart wrenching fate because of him. The young Spartan prince, son of Clio, Hyacinthus.

Even though all his lovers died, Hyacinthus was ‘the one that got away’, the tragedy that rendered his core with an anguish that those thousands of years couldn’t wash away. It was those times where he craved the comfort of a person he could call his own, a person he could give his unconditional love to, but alas – a word bitter on his tongue – he was cursed to be alone.

But Fate, those three wicked, little ladies, they had a sick way of twisting the events. If Beomgyu dares say it, they stood on top of all the Olympians, above even the almighty Zeus – Beomgyu will bravely await for his father’s lightning flash to zap him. They toyed with lives none of the Gods ever could. It took but a snip and the lights would go out.

These three funny ladies, how they loved to toy with him.

Beomgyu had gone through the centuries, yearning for his lost love to return to him, had fought through the Black Plague to catch a glimpse of his face – if even he would have kept the same one –, had attended the injured in both World Wars with the fearful apprehension that perhaps he’d find the love of his immortal life on one of the stretchers.

Luckily, in none of those settings had he seen him, had he seen his Hyacinthus.

Beomgyu counted the stars of the night skies each passing day he waited for his beloved, watching his sister sneer down at him with pitiful eyes from her chariot. Each night he felt his heart wither a little more, lying in a field of purple hyacinths, to feel at least the ghost of his lover’s embrace.

He remembered how he used to be able to see the Milky Way in Hyacinthus’ eyes, how he could effortlessly fit the universe in those big, chocolate irises. He remembered when Iris had painted the sky when they had laid in the sweet, summer sun – courtesy to Beomgyu – and how the prism of color had painted Hyacinthus with a vivid palette that Beomgyu could have only seen in his dreams.

He looked like a marble statue come to life, flawless and beautifully innocent; a rare diamond the world did not deserve, especially not a chronic screw up like Beomgyu.

It had been a second, a hot flash and the colors were gone. They had washed over them as Iris continued her quest of stealing Hermes’ position as messenger of the Gods.

As quickly as she had passed, as quickly as the multi-tinted light had washed over them, so quickly was the flame of their love blown out, by a gust of fuming wind from the west.

Thinking back, reminiscing the sweet times where he and Hyacinthus had been like one, he caressed the single purple petal chained around his neck, dried and preserved in glycerin – though before that it had been divine abilities.

Gone with the wind. All it had taken was a knock of jealousy to break a human life.

☀️

Beomgyu didn’t particularly understand why he still tried going to university. He was a licensed doctor, a professional guitarist and a British literature grad. He even had some PhDs scattered here and there. He could be a functional member of society – even though his diplomas were long expired.

Still, Yeonjun, better known under his name Hermes, was jumping to enroll into a course once again.

“Come on, if you fail it won’t matter,” Yeonjun had argued when Beomgyu had persistently refused. “We can just sulk over it over some wine. I heard Dionysus had a pretty nice batch imported from Bordeaux. I know you love your wines.”

Beomgyu had rolled his eyes, looking up from his brokenhearted poetry. “Why would I want to study again?”

“You can go back to the conservatoire and study guitar like you did before. Or another instrument,” Yeonjun had suggested. “Please, Gyu, I miss frat parties and doing stupid things.”

“Then go on your own,” Beomgyu retaliated sharply. “You don’t need college to be stupid.”

“But Gyu, you’re my frat boy buddy! It’s us against the world! Prepare for trouble and make it double!” Yeonjun had tugged at Beomgyu’s arm in a whine and Beomgyu wondered how he had put up with his childish behavior for eternity.

“Why are you so eager?” Beomgyu ripped his arm away, sending Yeonjun a look of pure horror.

“Because I’m bored.” Yeonjun had put it simply, not fazed in the slightest by Beomgyu’s harsh behavior. “I’m overworked and I want to have some simplicity that doesn’t involve flying up and down to the Underworld because Demeter doesn’t want to believe her daughter is a full grown woman.”

“Watch out, your cereal might come out spoiled.”

“Then I’ll make a bird shit in her Cheerios,” Yeonjun not-so-smartly announced. The succulent propped nicely by Yeonjun’s window dried out. Yeonjun watched it happen with a sigh, before turning back to Beomgyu. “So, is this a yes?”

“Maybe I’ll study history this time.” Beomgyu picked at his nails. “Seems like something easy.”

His peace and quiet was disturbed and his lovelorn poetry was replaced by angry stanzas with rhythms that didn’t fall nicely as Yeonjun trapped him in an ecstatic headlock. The Messenger God squealed with joy, running his knuckles over Beomgyu’s poor scalp.

“What the fuck! I didn’t even confirm anything!”

“Didn’t hear a no!”

☀️

True to his word, he had enrolled into college. He’d attended for a year now, got shitfaced on the weekly – he was somewhat responsible. He may be a god, but alcohol ruins all beings – and attended quite the amount of parties.

Was he famous? Who knew? But, he had definitely lived up to his and Yeonjun’s ‘iconic duo’ reputation. This was why they were now running over an empty campus in the dead of the night as Yeonjun had decided it was a fun thing to toy with the school’s fish tank.

The fish could now speak, in case you were wondering.  And the wing had been declared haunted. Mortals were funny, truly; always got scared of anything out of the ordinary.

“Pretty rad, I must say,” Yeonjun huffed, speed-walking like a hiking grandmother.

“You look stupid,” Beomgyu was sure to make him aware. He massaged his temples. “Out of everything, why talking fish? And why is all they can say that Ares is a wimp?”

Yeonjun looked at him like he’d asked him the origin of Schrödinger’s cat. “Why not? Did I lie?”

“Yeah, okay it’s pretty funny,” Beomgyu laughed, great and hearty. “Especially when the janitor went, ‘Ah! Ghosts!’ and ran like a headless chic–“

Beomgyu cut himself off mid-sentence, eyes trailing over to a figure behind Yeonjun. A mop of blond, shining in the silver moonlight. His sharp features were illuminated by the hue of his screen, bringing them out more angular than they were up close.

Beomgyu couldn’t believe his eyes, but over the campus he saw him stroll, duffel bag swung over his shoulder and his smile as bright the god had made his suns to be. His blonde hair was messy, sticking to his sweaty forehead and his shirt clung to his body like a second skin. It was him, undoubtedly and unmistaken.

His love, his delicate flower, which he had lost in the current of existence.

Beomgyu’s body had reacted before his mind could process the unlikely encounter. His pace picked up, strides longer and faster than the ones before. He could hear Yeonjun’s voice faintly in the back of his head, calling him back, but Beomgyu wanted nothing to do with what was behind him. For the first time in a very, begrudgingly long time he had the chance to look forward to something.   

His voice hitched in the back of his throat. He was as gorgeous as he had been in those open fields, filled with green.

“H-Hyacinthus,” Beomgyu stammered, reaching out to check if it was true, if he hadn’t gone insane over the years.

The boy turned his head up from his phone. “What?”

“No, Hyacinthus.” Beomgyu wasn’t to be pulled from his thoughts. Cloudy and hazy, all he could hear was how soft the boy sounded, how familiar. “Oh… Oh Heavens… It’s me. Don’t you remember me? I’ve waited centuries and I found you at last…”

“Did you perhaps have a little too much to drink?” The boy cocked up an eyebrow, but didn’t step back. “Or a joint too many? I know they’re good, but you gotta chill.”

It was as if Beomgyu had lost his tongue. He couldn’t utter a single sound, not even the smallest of squeaks. All he did was stare at the boy who wore the same face as Hyacinthus, the same smooth voice, the same nervous giggle under Beomgyu’s gaze.

The boy had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, leaning into Beomgyu’s vision. “Uh, are you okay? You’re not going to vomit, right?”

Beomgyu hoped he wasn’t, but his stomach was twisted in the Gordian Knot, that only a sword could slice through to undo. His vision turned blurry and his were so unstable that Beomgyu feared they’d give out. True to that worry, his knees buckled. With an empty screech he fell forward.

He wouldn’t care less if he hit the cold stones beneath him; he would already be in a good position by Hyacinthus’ feet to beg for forgiveness.

But the fall never came. Instead of a hard surface meeting him, it was a pair of warm arms engulfing him. Safe and sound; Beomgyu realized that there would never be a soul who would hold him the way Hyacinthus had. It was like a haven; a salvation. It was a comforting warmth after spending eternity in a blizzard.

“Damn, you’re wasted,” the boy muttered, yet didn’t drop him or let him go.

Beomgyu wished he could nuzzle into his caramel skin, wished he could inhale his scent and stay in his arms forever. But forever was never an option.

“Beomgyu! My dude, I told you to stay off the weed!” Yeonjun had come over to pry him from the boy’s grip.

Beomgyu let out a whine in the process, and like a child he reached out his arms, trying to salvage an ounce of the touch he’d been craving, so much that it had become a torment.

Yeonjun groaned with effort as Beomgyu struggled against him. “Sorry ‘bout that. He, uh, was making homework and decided to numb his pain by smoking pot.”

The boy started retreating to his own dorm, most likely, but turned over to cast Beomgyu a last, worrisome glance. “Well, uh, take care, I guess? He looks like he’s about to cry.”

Beomgyu wanted to do more than just cry. He wanted to scream, hold onto Hyacinthus in fear of losing him once again. He wanted to run into his embrace as they had done in Sparta, wanted to sing to him, wanted to listen to his stories. He wanted him back.

He tried to fight his way out of Yeonjun’s grip, but Yeonjun was persistent; Beomgyu was painfully reminded of how powerful the Prankster God actually was. He was blessed that Yeonjun was an overall soft guy, to him, that was.

“I’m truly sorry to bother,” Yeonjun apologized; Beomgyu knew how much he hated doing that.

“It’s fine, really,” the boy dismissed it with a wave. “I know the effects. It’s not his fault. Take care, buddy.” The blond placed his hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder, providing a small, empowering squeeze. “I know it’s hard, but hang in there.”

He smiled. “I’ll see you guys around, probably.”

“Yeah, good luck,” Yeonjun replied. “I’ll get this menace to bed.”

As the blond retreated, Beomgyu could only watch his figure. A divine light, clean and gold, hugged his body, rolling off as if he was the sun in person. Beomgyu was the sun in person, but if anything, he felt more dimmed out and weak than ever, like when his sister pestered him by riding her chariot next to his.

She’d unleashed a great panic under the population by causing the first eclipse. Actually, a lot of their sibling bickering caused quite some of nature’s phenomena. Beomgyu knew he should feel more sorry about it, but it was rather amusing in his books. And he’d gotten some pretty nice offerings after that, begging for the sun to return.  

The ghost of the boy’s touch was imprinted on his shoulder, so warm it burned Beomgyu’s flesh, Beomgyu brought his hand up, as if he were holding his hand.

“It’s him, Yeonjun,” Beomgyu whispered, “I found him.”

☀️

Just because Beomgyu had found the reincarnated soul of the deceased love of his life, didn’t mean he approached him. On top of that, he hadn’t made a great second first impression if the guy thought he was secretly smoking pot.

And he was bummed out about it. Majorly bummed out. And what did Beomgyu do when he was bummed out? Complain about it to Yeonjun and then sulk to write poetry or a ballad about the cruel shenanigans and tricks love played on his heart. He was a pretty emotional guy, though he’d never admit it.

“I just can’t get it,” Beomgyu ranted, trying to make his pen balance on its head. It fell over. “I fought a snake moments after I was born, I unleashed plagues on those who angered me, so why, why can’t I get over him?”

He didn’t grant Yeonjun any space to speak. “I am the God of Prophecy! I’m supposed to know how to approach situations, but I can’t predict anything with him. Am I supposed to offer to my own temples now? Did I piss off Delphi?”

Beomgyu let out a long suppressed groan, flinging his pen across the room, into their dart board that he had insisted on buying, to expand his set of skills when it came to activities with aim. It stayed up, in the center. That cheered him up a little; even as a moping mop of sadness, he was still awesome. 

“I don’t know, bud,” Yeonjun patted the boy on his back, “but perhaps even the gods can be victims of hubris.”

“How so?” Beomgyu brushed his long, black hair out of his eyes.

“We both don’t have the cleanest hands,” Yeonjun said, marching over to their kitchen. “I’ve had my fair share of affairs, you too. And you’re a foul player when it comes to competition.”

Beomgyu felt a gnawing at his conscience. “I do not know what you mean.”

Yeonjun uncapped the bottle – Rosé, very fancy – and poured himself a glass. He was going to need it if Beomgyu was planning to hold an hour-long monologue.  

“Thamyris,” Yeonjun said. “Didn’t you push the Muses to punish him for eternity in Tartarus? Only because you believed he’d get in the way of you and your lover boy. Dude, you banished your grandson because you were in love.”

“Don’t call him my grandson.” Beomgyu crinkled his nose at the idea. “It makes me look old. Besides, if you look at it that way, I have a lot of grandkids. And so do you, may I add.”

“Exactly,” Yeonjun bitterly murmured. “We deserve to be cursed.”

☀️

Beomgyu was a fool when it came to love. An absolute, blithering moron, but usually his seduction maneuvers included stalking, mainly because he didn’t know how to approach anyone without sending them running, screaming bloody murder. He liked to blame it on his rather disappointing record, with the majority of his lovers resulting… not alive.

He was charming, he was well-aware of the fact, and he knew how to sweet talk, but good grief, was he at loss.

He had neither caught the boy’s new name yet, nor did he know what he enjoyed doing in this life. All he knew was that he was the reincarnated version of the lover he lost.

However, Beomgyu had found out that he was part of the school’s athletics team. During their one encounter – the one where Beomgyu had a complete meltdown over seeing Hyacinthus, or his face, living life and being not dead – Beomgyu had noticed the duffel bag. The logo in particular had caught his eye.

His first issue was the question, why was it Hermes? Hermes wasn’t even the patron of sports – maybe he was, but Yeonjun had a long list of occupations and Beomgyu couldn’t be bothered to remember. So yeah, he was a little pissy. But the joy of knowing something more about the boy was enough for him to forgive their school. Only a little. It still wasn’t okay, really.

It was enough to send Beomgyu sneaking around the track field every day after class. Guitar strapped to his back, he was hidden underneath the bleachers. He had decided to double major that year, taking history as well as guitar. It wouldn’t make much of a difference, just that he could keep a little busy.

History wasn’t an issue; he had experienced the majority of it. The only pet peeve would be inaccurate documentation – the Trojan War made him seem like a coward and he was not a coward – or his rusty memory. Guitar, well, he was the God of Music for a reason and the reason was that he was awesome at it.

Yeonjun had flown off to deliver some messages and packages – believe it or not, home shopping had even struck the Olympians and Zeus was the prime victim – and wouldn’t be back until later.

Basically, Beomgyu was left to be an idiot on his own.    

“What are you doing here?”

It was the same velvety voice that had once lulled him to slumber on lazy afternoons, the one that had sung soft melodies when braiding flower crowns. For a Spartan prince, Hyacinthus had been the softest being Beomgyu had ever had the honor of meeting.

The God of All That’s Great didn’t startle, he merely was caught by surprise. He held onto his chest, offering a shaky smile. “Music sounds best when played underneath the bleachers.”

“Looks like you were sneaking around,” the blond boy commented, smirk dancing on his lips.

“No, I was just trying to find a good spot in the sun,” Beomgyu argued, his voice shaky. He was flustered. Flustered! He was a god; he was supposed to make the boy feel flustered.

But, the boy was gorgeous, intimidating, with a confidence that Hyacinthus of the past needed some time to show. The main reason for that, however, was that back in Ancient Greece, mortals had to keep fair distance between them and the deities. They were easily accused of wanting to match up to them; they had to mind their words and actions if they weren’t willing to be cursed or zapped out of existence.

“Under the bleachers?” the boy questioned, skepticism painting his features. He looked around. “Also, isn’t sunlight bad for instruments?”

“Okay, fine, I wanted to apologize,” Beomgyu grumbled. His lips pressed into a thin line, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I must’ve looked moronic to you. I promise I’m not a weirdo.”

“It’s alright, truly,” the boy laughed, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. “How did you know I’d be here? Are you a stalker?”

“No!” Beomgyu cleared his throat, the blush on his cheeks deepening. “No, I remembered the logo on your bag and decided to take a chance. Seems like the Gods are in my favor.”

“Sure.” The boy stuck out his hand. “Taehyun.”

“Taehyun,” Beomgyu repeated, his triumph unmatched. With caution he accepted the handshake. “Beomgyu.”

☀️

Hyacinthus knew many charms. The one that managed to catch the eye of the young god, however, was his ethereal beauty. The first time Beomgyu had laid eyes on him was when he was chasing his sun chariot through the sky just for the hell of it.

As his horses galloped over an open field, the god noticed a figure skipping through the lush greens, not seeming too busy.

The first thought he had: gorgeous. He had to be a prince; his clean, white robes and his golden laurel crown filled with embroideries indicated that. Beomgyu was head over heels, as shallow as he sounded; he felt drawn to the boy. He blond locks reflected the sun’s rain and his smile rivaled it.

Without much thought, Beomgyu tugged at the reins, his horses jolting back in a panic. In his godly dramatique, he landed on the ground – he asked the wind a little favor to make his hair flow a little and he adjusted the light just a little, so it would look like he was sparkling.

The boy turned around at the ruckus, his eyes widening at the realization. The flowers in his hands dropped with a thud. His mouth was wide, his eyes wider; frozen in shock.

Beomgyu leaned over the railing. “Why aren’t you greeting me? Haven’t your parents educated you on common courtesy?”

The boy’s cheeks flushed, lips clenched together and gaze cast at the scattered petals by his feet. “Mortals mustn’t speak the names of the Gods.”

“I give you my permission.” Beomgyu grinned, hopping off his chariot. “You may say my name.”

“Apollo.”

Beomgyu’s grin spread even further, the glow of the heavens growing stronger with it. His heart swelled at the soft tone of the boy’s voice, how he sounded as gentle as he looked.

“And yours? What may I call you?” he asked, stepping forward.

He placed his fingers underneath the boy’s chin, lifting it so he would meet his eyes. Up close he was even more enchanting, a pure and genuine beauty that had wrapped itself around Beomgyu’s head.

The boy’s eyes sparkled, shoulders pulling back a little. “Hyacinthus.”

“Hyacinthus,” Beomgyu repeated, gleaming at how sweet it felt on his tongue. “A beautiful name to match a beautiful boy.” 

Hyacinthus, despite his newfound confidence, shrunk down slightly, lips set in a queasy grin. “What have I done to be graced by your presence?”

“Nothing,” Beomgyu replied. “You existed and I wanted to meet you.”

During that first meeting, the one that was the beginning of the many to follow, neither had suspected they would grow so intimate so quickly, nor did they expect such a rosy encounter to end in a pit of thorns.

☀️

It was partially Beomgyu’s fault; had he not insulted Eros that one fine day, would it have been different? Had he not challenged the God of Love, would he be able to find happiness in romance?

Beomgyu was hopeless, he fell quickly and when he fell he fell hard. He had ridiculed Icarus for flying too close to the sun, but when it came to love, Beomgyu found himself following his steps, overtaken by hubris.

However, the only thing everlasting between a mortal and immortal being was the despair stretched over a thousand years. Mortals would one day come to sail down the Styx and the immortal being would not be able to follow them into death.

Beomgyu wondered if he had been selfish. Had he not forbade Hades from taking the soul of his beloved, then perhaps he could’ve met him sooner. But then, if he had been more skillful, more powerful, then perhaps he could have salvaged the life of the one he swore was his to cherish.

He remembered that day, clear as crystals and dark as an eclipsed night. It had been innocent, both of them unsuspecting of the dangers of jealousy.

As Beomgyu had mentioned, Hyacinthus was a beauty that matched up to those of deities. He’d even go as far as admitting he surpassed the Gods by far. It was a miracle Aphrodite hadn’t fumed in a pit of envy. He was beautiful, thus it wasn’t a surprise that he had caught the eyes of many, all eager to call the prince theirs.

The first one was Thamyris, but Beomgyu had eliminated him quite early on. Thamyris was of his own decent, gifted with musical abilities and therefore ran on a loaded ego. It wasn’t hard to get him out of the picture; all Beomgyu had to do was convince the Muses Thamyris had challenged them, claiming he was far more skilled.

They held a competition, and naturally, the mortal lost and with that he lost his life. Wiped out clean. Target hit, right at the center.  

The second two, however, were the brothers Zephyrus and Boreas, the West and North Wind. Boreas – or Soobin – had quickly surrendered, noticing that the blossoming love between Apollo and Hyacinthus was undeniable; there was no way he could squirm his way between that.

Soobin had always been easy to lay himself down with the facts and he was overall a great guy. Calm and collected, somewhat distance, but great company, except when he was angered. The lands would be stripped of warmth, covered in the ice that had grown in his heart.

His brother, however, was fierce and hot-tempered; his polar opposite. What Kai wanted, Kai would get and if Kai didn’t get it, then no one would. He was overly enthusiastic, passionate, but never knew how to bring that across. Crops scorched, drought hit; Kai had never been great on feelings. He was loud, but that didn’t mean he was expressive.

Honestly, Beomgyu believed he was just mad all the time; Kai was always hanging around them, glaring and sulking as he watched the sweet exchanges. Though, he only remembered when he thought back; in the moment all that consumed him was Taehyun.

☀️

The part of studying history that sucked the most had to be reading his own myths. That, and inaccurate documentation because the source material was biased.

Beomgyu detested reading his own stupidity written out on paper, reminded of how idiotic he was, embarrassed to the core. Sometimes it wasn’t correct, of course, some details were glazed over and others were accentuated, but the gist was there and it was horrible.

It somewhat reminded him of the internet; once something was documented, good luck getting rid of it.

He read over the lines, seeing his words as the receiver. It was then that he noticed what an arrogant prick he actually was, but he was still pretty great. Slaying Python? As an infant? Ares could never. 

“Beomgyu,” The corner of Taehyun’s head popped into Beomgyu’s peripheral vision, “are you busy?”

“Huh?” Beomgyu looked up from his papers, his cluelessness immediately fading at the sight he met. He smiled. “No, of course not. I’m never busy for you.”

Taehyun grinned, plopping down on the chair across of Beomgyu, sweetened mocha steaming in his hand. “Great!”

“What’s the occasion?” Beomgyu asked, casting his notes to the side. “What do I owe you this honor?”

“Nothing, I saw you and thought, why not?” Taehyun waved, dimples gracing his cheeks. “Hello, Beomgyu.”

“Hello, Tae… Taehyun.”

It was hard to believe that the boy had a new name and a life Beomgyu wasn’t part of. He had new memories and no recollection of the ones he shared with a certain Sun God during a certain time set in history. Memories documented in retellings and myths, exchanged orally at first and then set on paper to be preserved forever.

It was only Beomgyu who remembered and perhaps that was a blessing, but to his heart it felt like a curse.

“What’cha looking at?” Taehyun peered over his cup. “What course are you studying for?”

“Ancient history,” Beomgyu replied, instinctively laying his arms over his papers. Taehyun didn’t have to see his dark past. “Greek lore and myths and stuff.”

“Oh, which one?”

Taehyun was way too interested for Beomgyu’s liking. In a way, it was rather flattering and if it were any other person, Beomgyu would be proudly boasting about his achievements, all his creations, how he was so easily loved by everyone, but this was Taehyun.

This was the victim of his ignorance, of his ego. It wasn’t only his fault, but had he noticed the danger lurking sooner, then he would not have died that way. Not so suddenly and not so… helplessly. His death was futile and that was the worse.  

“Daphne and Apollo…”

“Oh! I know that one!” Taehyun exclaimed, abandoning his coffee to the side. He leaned over the table to catch a better look. “I read it once. I followed Latin classes for a while. Apollo sure had an arm kink.”

“Arm kink?!” Beomgyu’s eye twitched. “I’m sorry, what made you think that.”

Taehyun laughed, ruffling Beomgyu’s hair with a wink.

“You have the text?” he asked, already taking all of Beomgyu’s documents. He scanned over all the pages. “Ah, right here– ‘And her bared arms made Apollo wonder what more beauty was hidden beneath the linen’. ‘The wind bared her silhouette, pressing her thin clothing against her skin’.”

Beomgyu let out a discomforted groan, wondering why Ovid had to word it that way. He hid his face in his hands. “Please, stop.”

“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?” Taehyun bit his lips to stifle a giggle. “I could read more, because there are quite some stanzas dedicated to Daphne’s arms.”

“I don’t have an arm kink,” Beomgyu stated, only then to realized that he wasn’t Apollo at that moment, but Beomgyu the stressed college student.

Taehyun raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say you did. Unless… do you? I promise I won’t judge.”

Beomgyu wondered if Hades still had a nice spot reserved for him. Maybe he could offer to babysit Spot – oh sorry, Cerberus. He was a cute, big little puppy, even if he had three heads. Maybe he could train him. They could become the bestest of friends.  

Taehyun took a sip from his coffee. “You know, I feel kinda bad for both of them. Like, Daphne was just minding her business until an angry toddler decided to shoot a cursed arrow at her.”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu mused, sounding glum, “no one recovers from Cupid’s arrows.”

“And Apollo was sure an unlucky guy when it came to love. I don’t think any of his lovers lived to tell the tale.”

“Not one, no,” Beomgyu swallowed hardly, avoiding Taehyun’s gaze like the plague, “but he was an overzealous bastard. Always pretends to be more than he actually is.”

Taehyun tsk-ed. “Hey, don’t speak so ill of our bicon.”

“Bi… con?” Beomgyu echoed, confusion evident.

“Hush, don’t question it,” Taehyun shushed him with a toothy grin. “He’s our bisexual icon. We’ll ignore his dick moves. Gods weren’t meant to portray greatness, they were meant to be realistic. They portrayed the worst in humans and took it to extremes. It’s pop culture that ruined that image.”

Beomgyu wished he could shrink to the size of nothingness. Every word passing Taehyun’s lips made him squirm; he’d heard the same ones in a distant memory.

It had been a fine day, except Beomgyu had, once again, screwed up big time. It was unforgiveable, but the Gods were fickle beings, easily ticked off and overplayed by their emotions. That was the exactly why he unleashed a disease over a certain family, striking each and one of them with fatal arrows. 

He hadn’t a valid reason for it. Not one that justified his extreme retaliation. All the man had done was insult his priest, therefore insulting the god he served as well. It was by far an overreaction, but Hyacinthus had comforted him through it, rubbed his back, kissed his forehead.

You’re meant to be realistic, my love. What you did was far from right, but you can still make it right by using your gift of healing on them.

And that was what he had done. Honestly, Hyacinthus had him wrapped around his finger, running around the palm of his hand. He could have become the God of Persuasion. He didn’t need the divine to be as powerful as a god. He could’ve become a god.

But he hadn’t.  

“So, how’s sports going?” Beomgyu asked in a frail attempt of shaking off his thoughts. “I actually don’t know what you do?”

Taehyun pursed his lips, folding his hands underneath his chin. “I got a scholarship for athletics, track-and-field. Mainly discus throwing is my forte, but I’m pretty great at hurdling too. And high jumps. I’m an all-rounder.”

“I’d like to see that for myself.” Beomgyu pushed his hair back with a smirk, pushing back his icky feelings about discuses with it.

Fate, these three funny ladies.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Taehyun leaned closer to Beomgyu’s face. “Do you doubt my abilities?”

With Taehyun’s breath tickling his lips, Beomgyu asked in a haze, “Do I?”

Taehyun chuckled softly at Beomgyu’s dazed expression, knowing very well where his eyes were set.

“Sounds like you do.” Taehyun pulled back with a smug smile. “I’m offended. I’m pretty sure you’d suck. Wanna play? I’ll prove it to you.”

“No,” Beomgyu was quick to turn down his offer. “Me and a discus? Bad combo.”

“You better trust him, Tae. I’ve seen him play once and that ended… in catastrophe.”

Beomgyu stiffened. He could hear the sneer, the ridicule in his voice. A thousand blazing fires ran over his spine. Never had he spun around that quickly. His knuckles turned white as he diverted his rage onto the backrest of his chair.

Kai wiggled his fingers in a wave. “Hello, Beomgyu.”  

Beomgyu clenched his jaw, molars grinding over one another. Zephyrus.

☀️

Hyacinthus – or Taehyun, as he was called in this life –  fell to the ground and with him, Beomgyu’s world collapsed. The energy drained from nature and the sun faded into a dulled gray. Beomgyu’s immortal heart, stained with the cracks of past lovers, diminished into ashes.

“Hyacinthus…”

It took Beomgyu no time to rush to the boy’s side, though he stumbled during his last steps. He met the ground moments before he could reach his beloved, but that didn’t stop him. He crawled – dragged – himself over, struggling to find rationality in every fiber of his godly being.  

“Hyacinthus!”

In his arms, he cradled Taehyun to his chest, sobbing through his curses at the Heavens. He poured out his accusations at those on Olympus, who were probably chortling at his pain. He screamed out in agony, his lover’s eyes fluttering open and closed.

“No, no, no! My love, please, I beg of you!” Beomgyu screamed. “Don’t leave me! I can heal you!”

Beomgyu’s rash eyes searched the grounds for herbs, medicinal or not – anything that could bring the joy back to his lover’s body. He picked at the grass, ripped flowers from the grounds with their roots still attached, but instead of healing anything, Taehyun grew weaker, colder.

And then, as if the world stopped to grieve, the violets and lilies and poppies drooped their heads and with them Taehyun’s head rolled down.

Suffocating by grief’s grasp, Beomgyu fought against the current of life. He watched his love’s wilted soul rise from his still body, but he refused to let go. Taehyun stared down at him, sparkling tears rolling down his translucent cheeks.

“Let go, my love.” Taehyun reached out to stroke Beomgyu’s cheek, though it felt devoid of life, like ice against his skin, nothing more than the howling northern wind. “We shall meet again, in better times.”

“I-I can’t,” came Beomgyu’s pathetic whimper. “Don’t leave me, please, I won’t–”

The earth beneath them grumbled, crumbling open. From the cracks in the ground rose a figure, tall and dark, black scythe serving him as a walking stick. Beomgyu looked up to meet a pair of red eyes, glowing crimson as the shed of battlefields. Death had arrived.

Taehyun’s soul flickered in his presence, his voice muted by the overwhelming presence of Thanatos.

“Let him go, Apollo.”

In retaliation, Beomgyu glared, making sure to meet Thanatos’ eyes underneath his hood. His grip on Taehyun’s purple robes tightened; if they would want to take him away, then they’d have to pry him from Beomgyu’s cold, dead hands.

“No.” Beomgyu’s voice was laced with venom, leaving no space for argument. “You shall not take him.”

“It is the way things go,” Thanatos responded, readying his chains to put around Taehyun’s wrists.

“I stand above you and I say you shall not take him,” Beomgyu spat, knowing very well that he in fact did not stand above Death. Death was a being more powerful than any of them; he served the Gods, but if he wouldn’t have, they would have a lot to fear.

Thanatos’ keys jingled in the howling wind. “Apollo, no god has the power to revoke death. Not even me.”

“Thanatos, I beg of you. Tell my uncle that I shall not let him go, the sun shall not rise, no disease shall be healed, no creativity shall be found. I am not leaving this spot. Not until the day Earth withers away.”  

Thanatos pondered for a moment. “So be it, but the boy’s soul shall not return to his body.”

“Then, as he died in the prime of his youth, at the age of blossoming, so shall he remain,” Beomgyu announced.

He brushed a strand of blond, stained with a seeping red, out of Taehyun’s face. “His soul shall arise as a flower. When spring chases away the pallid winter, when Aries chases Pisces down the horizon, then shall he flourish with petals as purple as his robes. Fields shall bloom in his glory, a flower that carries his name.”  

Thanatos shifted his weight onto his scythe, waiting for the God of Poetry’s dramatic monologue to end. “Swear it and I’ll report to your uncle.”

“I swear it in the name of my father,” Beomgyu said. He sent Thanatos a sideway glance, shimmering with unshed tears. “Thank you.”

Thanatos only tipped his hood and sunk back down to the Underworld. Beomgyu was faced with the chilling reality; he’d have to follow up on his word.  

“You have left this world too soon,” Beomgyu whispered in a voice made of glass. “Too young, ripped from your youth. All because I loved you. Alas, Hyacinthus, I’ll let you go.”

In the pool of blood Beomgyu was met with his own reflection of guilt, his hands caressing Taehyun’s pale cheeks, the very hands that caused them the cold. The god shut his eyes, pressing his forehead to Taehyun’s letting a singular tear fall onto his graying flesh.

Taehyun’s body faded, sparkling like a swarm of fireflies. The gold melted into the soil, watered by blood and salty despair. From the spot sprouted a small flower, true to the Great Apollo’s words.

Beomgyu leaned forward, pouring his lament onto the purple petals, whispering his mournful apologies onto them. He sat there. He couldn’t tell how long, for the sun did not set that day; he deserved to be punished, living the day for longer, reminding himself that it was the day he lost his precious lover.

Truth be told, having the power to make Apollo crumble in adoration was no better than receiving a curse.

☀️

Beomgyu had cried to his best friend, Hermes, the entire day after Hyacinthus’ unfortunate passing, the petals of his corpse splattered with his guilt. And the following weeks as well, but only to himself. The months turned into years and occasionally Beomgyu still melted down.

“He… He was the one,” Beomgyu sniffled, mixing the alcohol with his tears. “The first fun-functional relationship I-I had!”

Yeonjun scrunched his nose up at the salty concoction Beomgyu was creating with Dionysus’ ripened Bordeaux. He didn’t have much time to judge, because Beomgyu let out another deep-throated sob.

“There, there.” Yeonjun stroked his best friend’s back. He hinted at Dionysus to bring him another wine. “At least he’s a flower now.”

That didn’t seem to be the correct answer; Beomgyu slammed his head onto Dionysus’ polished wood, smothering it with snot. Dionysus smacked his lips at the sorry excuse of a deity on front of him.

“He thinks he got it bad? Imagine being murdered after being born only to be resurrected by being placed in some woman’s womb, then have her be vaporized, so you get sown into your father’s thigh. Finally, you get born, only to be cursed by your crazy stepmother.” Dionysus slid over a glass, filling it with fancy grape juice till just underneath the rim. “You’ll need it. Good luck dealing with… that.”

He eyed Beomgyu in disgust. He looked pathetic. Truly, he thought a few millennia would be enough, but it seems a poet holds onto their grief. Angsty poems needed to come from somewhere.  

Beomgyu hadn’t caught up on anything. “I know, I know, I am horrid. I am a disaster and everything I touch dies–“

Yeonjun swirled his wine, sending Dionysus a thankful nod. “You’re the god of healing?”

“–but for sure I didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve this,” Beomgyu wails, unaffected by Yeonjun’s comment. “I loved him. I love him.”

“Love is horrible.” Yeonjun leaned closer to Beomgyu’s ear. “Trust me, I had an affair with Aphrodite.”

Something rumbled the ground, followed by the roses on Dionysus’ tables crumbling to dust.

“Bitter bitch.” Yeonjun downed his glass in one swig, letting the alcohol burn his throat.

Beomgyu didn’t respond, laying himself out on the table. Silent tears rolled over his cheeks, his body jolting with the occasional hiccup.

Yeonjun watched the scene, the blue hues almost radiating off Beomgyu’s golden skin. “Hey, hey, it’s going to be alright, Gyu. I’m sure he won’t blame you.”

“Why do I always end up killing them?” Beomgyu, claiming to be the God of Confidence too, looked up at Yeonjun. His voice was small, so much that it was barely audible. “I should’ve known better. Why did I call out Eros? Why did I belittle him, Yeonjun?”

“I don’t… I don’t know, Gyu,” Yeonjun sighed, laying his hand in Beomgyu’s neck, massaging it gently. “You know how sensitive Eros gets. I didn’t think his curse would last on for this long.”

“I got struck by a golden arrow and now I just fall blindly for whomever.” Beomgyu wiped his eyes. “He was the first one who wouldn’t rather be an inanimate object or plant.”

Yeonjun raised his eyebrows, bringing his glass to his lips. “To be fair, some of them you turned into inanimate objects yourself.”

Beomgyu only cried harder in response. Yeonjun ended up trashing Dionysus’ stash back then. Up to this day, he still hasn’t covered the bill. The God of Thieves stayed true to himself when need be.  

☀️

It was a cold winter afternoon the day Beomgyu’s bubble of contained rage hard burst. Without much thought – though, thinking of it, Beomgyu never thought and that’s why he had a royal history of screwing up – he stormed down to Kai’s dorm. He banged on the door out of courtesy, since the Greeks were very strict when it came to house rules.

“Who is it?” Kai called from the other side, seemingly of good distance from the door.

Hearing that, his sole voice, made Beomgyu’s head spin. He was seeing red. With all his godly might he blasted the door in with a slam.

The God of Spring looked up from his book. “You may be Zeus’ son, but that does not give you the right to trespass.”

Beomgyu couldn’t care less about violating the law; he would be committing a crime far worse once he was done dealing with Kai. With heavy feet he stomped over to the boy, leaving splinters springing from the wooden floor.

“It was you, wasn’t it, Kai.” Beomgyu grabbed him by the collar. “Tell me why you would commit such a cruel deed.”

The West Wind – Zephyrus – tilted his head. “Do what?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Beomgyu yanked Kai up to his feet. “I know it was you. The winds were in our favor.”

“I was never in your favor,” Kai scoffed. He took Beomgyu’s fingers and uncurled them from his clothes. “I did nothing, it was your hand that killed him.”

With a nasty glare he threw them back to Beomgyu’s side. “Did the Almighty Apollo forget that he was at fault too?”

“You asshole,” Beomgyu spat, mainly because Kai’s words stung with a truth. “You piece of crap.”

Kai rolled his eyes. “No need to get all mad like that.”

The thing they both had in common as the embodiments of heat was their blazing tempers and Beomgyu was a bomb waiting to go off. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Kai during all those years he’d spent waiting, but he hadn’t seen Kai in combination with Taehyun – or Hyacinthus – again after the incident.

They said time would heal, but all time did for Beomgyu was feed his resentment, like a pit of embers waiting to find their spark to burn down the world.

Beomgyu clenched his fists. “I will get you punished. I’ll make you rot in the depths of Tartarus, alongside all the monsters that reside there.”

“Now, now, big guy,” Kai laughed, but it was fake. He twirled his finger in front of Beomgyu’s face, ridiculing him. “I don’t think you have that power.”

“You’re a minor deity,” Beomgyu said lowly. “If anything, I have more power than you.”

Kai huffed, crossing his arms. “You always think you’re better than anyone. Where has that gotten you?”

“Shut your trap,” Beomgyu seethed.

“A little birdie told me that Eros has never been very fond of you, especially after you claimed to be better than him at shooting arrows,” Kai taunted, seating back into his arm chair. “And then you mocked him.”

Beomgyu’s vision spun, his head felt like lead on his shoulders. “I said, shut up.”

“You killed people mercilessly because they bruised your little ego. You killed them and then you killed their children.” Kai’s face was blank, but in his eyes burned a fury, hot as the fires of Hell. “What is this single killing different from yours? All those people had lovers too, families. You only care now because it directly affects you.”

“Burn for eternity.”

“Don’t worry.” Kai shook his head with a low chuckle. “There’s no worse punishment than living for eternity with guilt.”

☀️

Beomgyu wished he could act normal around Taehyun, but in the back of his mind it was always still Hyacinthus he was dealing with. He saw all of his habits back in the boy. The way Taehyun stuck out his tongue when concentrated, his little frown of disapprovement when upset, but most of his smile. That bright smile that could wipe out a thousand armies by how blinding it was.

His fist clenched around the hyacinth pendant, all the cries of his emo poetry scarred onto their petals for eternity. He wondered if Hyacinthus was maybe still trapped inside that flower and that Taehyun was a whole different person with the same face, but they were so alike.

He knew that the two weren’t the same; Taehyun was his own person and lived a new life with new people, but Beomgyu couldn’t help but feel utterly shameful whenever he met Taehyun’s eyes, seeing the same lively passion Hyacinthus’ had once carried before he’d wiped them out.

A light fist knocked against his forehead. Beomgyu blinked his heavy eyelids, once, twice; Taehyun’s image cleared.

“Beomgyu? What’s going on in your head to make you so… not in this world?”

His voice sounded concerned, laced with a stern vastness that Beomgyu knew he shouldn’t even imagine lying about it.

“Contemplating?” His answer sounded more of a question than a confirmation. “Do you ever see someone that holds so many similarities with someone else that you fuse them into one?”

“No?” Taehyun placed down his book. “I have never met two people who are exactly the same. Isn’t everyone unique after all?”

“But, taking the rebirth… theory, if one’s soul inhabits a new body in a new life, doesn’t that make them the same person?”

“I don’t know, Gyu,” Taehyun admitted. “I’m no philosophy major. And I’m sure you aren’t either. Unless you’re triple majoring.”

“It’s just been on my mind.”

Taehyun nodded in understanding, stroking Beomgyu’s dark hair with a pout on his lips. His touch shot a pang of nostalgia in Beomgyu’s chest. It was a mirroring image to their days spent on the fields in Sparta, lazing around under one of the many trees. They were so alike, Taehyun and Hyacinthus, so alike but so, very different.  

“Is this for a project?”

“Something like that.”

☀️

Beomgyu stared up at the night sky, counting the stars once again. All the figures, from Pegasus to Andromeda, he could remember the times when they were still living beings. Of course, they lived on in the stars, but it was different. His sister rode the sky in her chariot, but he couldn’t be bothered to greet her. She had to work, anyway. It wasn’t like she had time for her sulking, little brother.

The echo of Eurus voice ruffled the trees, leaving a cold stinging on his cheeks. Being the Sun God, Beomgyu had never been a fan of the cold. He preferred the warmth of day, the fluff of white clouds ruffling his hair as he rode the sun across the sky.

His eyes prickled, as if he had looked straight into the light. He tilted his head back, as an attempt to bring the tears back in, but to no avail. They streamed down the side of his head. He didn’t know why he took it so to heart.

Taehyun was a minute of his time; he had infinity and Taehyun had been little light that peeked through the monotonous waves.

“Beomgyu!”

“Oh, Taehyun!” Beomgyu tried his best to sound happy, but it came out drenched. He sniffled and put on a smile.

Taehyun frowned as he came to a halt. “You’re crying.”

It was that stern way of speaking that only wanted to make Beomgyu sob even harder. He sounded like he cared. He cared so deeply. And that’s what hurt even more. Beomgyu could be only imagining it, could only assume that he did, because they were lovers once upon a time.

“No, no, it’s allergies,” Beomgyu laughed, but it was fake. He wiped his eyes.

“Unless you’re allergic to sadness, then those aren’t allergies,” Taehyun deadpanned. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask, but it seems like I’ll have to exist next to you to form emotional support. Scoot.”

Beomgyu spluttered some protests, but Taehyun paid them no mind. He plopped down next to Beomgyu, sloppily sunken into the back rest, stretched apart.

“Were you looking at the stars?”

“Yeah, just sorting my thoughts,” Beomgyu replied, though the horizon was long forgotten. He didn’t need the heavens to see the universe.

The stars scattered across Taehyun’s skin, raining down on him as if they were aware of his glory. In his chocolate irises, Andromeda sat on her throne, as if she was guarding the dreams and hope that were present in them.

“They’re nice,” Taehyun commented. “Sad that you can’t always see them. The city’s lights sucks. And clouds.”

“Why are you out so late?” Beomgyu asked.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Taehyun responded with a shrug.

“Same.”

Beomgyu stuffed his hands in the pockets of his thick, puffer jack. He looked ahead as he asked Taehyun, “Do you believe in fate?”

It had come out muffled due to his scarf, but Taehyun hadn’t an issue catching on. He looked a little flabbergasted, but recovered it with a pale smile.

“Me? I don’t know,” he admitted. “I never thought of life that deeply.”

Silence consumed them after that, their breaths forming puffs of smoke in the autumn air. All those puffs could’ve been words, confessions Beomgyu had been eager to get off his chest, but he was afraid. Id he revealed his true identity, then they’d end up the same way they did in the past.

Apollo’s love life was cursed, Beomgyu’s wasn’t. But, Beomgyu was Apollo; they were one and the same. Only because he didn’t use that name in that given moment, didn’t make him a changed being. He remained Apollo, God of All That Is Good and cursed by an ‘angry toddler’ – Taehyun’s words, oh great Eros.

“Say, do you believe if life has a path laid out for you? People you will inevitably meet?” Beomgyu questioned.

Taehyun took a moment to ponder and Beomgyu held his breath. Taehyun’s response was crucial to the next moves Beomgyu would make, the next tactic he would plan out; whether he would keep trying.

“Hmm, yeah.” Taehyun kept his answers vague. “Yeah, I do believe we have a road to walk.”

“Then, do you believe in reincarnation? In past lives?”

“Full of questions today, aren’t we?” Taehyun smiled. “Do you?”

“I do.” Beomgyu turned to look at Taehyun, only to find him already looking at him. “How did your soul escape the flower?”

Taehyun opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t find the right words. Eventually he settled with, “Did you perhaps drink again, Gyu?”

“No… you just remind me an awful lot of someone I used to know,” Beomgyu mumbled.

Taehyun didn’t speak, only laying his head on Beomgyu’s shoulder. It felt all too familiar; the way Taehyun traced his fingers, the warmth of his body seeping into Beomgyu’s frozen bones, bringing his core to a high level of activity.

Somewhere in the stars he caught a glimpse of a newly formed constellation.

Cheer up, asshole. You’ll be fine.

“Artemis, you brat.”

☀️

“Yeonjun, I’m going to tell him.”

Yeonjun stopped in his tracks. With a quick spin he slammed down his helmet. He had just returned from his job – he didn’t know when he had become Olympus’ mailman, but it seemed that they were very progressive. Coming back from that, he had wanted to kick back, let his talaria torment Beomgyu and watch him suffer with a glass of wine.

He’d still have that glass of wine and Beomgyu’s suffering, but he’d have to be Beomgyu’s audience again for one of his infamous monologues. At least they were somewhat poetic.

“What? Gyu, is that a good idea?”

“No, but I’ve never had those,” Beomgyu commented breezily.  

“You literally invented medicine,” Yeonjun stated.

“I have the craftsmanship, I know,” Beomgyu agreed. “You don’t have to remind me of my achievements, Jun.”

Yeonjun pursed his lips, hitting his fist on the table.

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Yeonjun said, “I’m not doing it ever again.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes. “Well, boohoo, go report to dad.”

“You know that only works for Athena and Artemis,” Yeonjun responded.

“Man, imagine being the favorite,” Beomgyu snorted. “Ares can’t relate.”

Yeonjun covered his mouth to stop a snort from slipping. “You did him dirty,” he said, trying to sound serious, but truly, clowning Ares was shared hobby number one among the Olympians.

There was always this one family member everyone couldn’t stand and Ares happened to be theirs.

“Should’ve sided with me during the Trojan War then.” Beomgyu inspected his nails. “You know, I may be a pain in the ass, but at least I didn’t get trapped in a jar.”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun bit his lip, regaining severity, “so how are you going to reveal yourself without scaring the poor boy off? Because usually, your great reveals don’t end too snazzy.”

“Ouch.” Beomgyu rubbed his neck. “That’s why I kinda came to you…”

“Apollo? Asking for my help?” Yeonjun crossed his hands over his chest. “Love changed you.”

“Yeonjun, this is serious!” Beomgyu yelled, dropping his head on the table. He raised his hands. “This’ll either make him remember me or send him jumping off a cliff!”

“But, Gyu, do you want him to remember you?”

Beomgyu peeked up. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Yeonjun wore a thoughtful frown; a rare expression that he only wore when situations were dire. “Isn’t this a chance to start over?”

“It was like living a nightmare without him,” Beomgyu spoke, expression somber, yet there was a hopeful glint. “Not all the time, sometimes not at all, sometimes worse than ever before, but there is nothing left of the world if he’s not in it.”

“He still will be, just without the memories,” Yeonjun reasoned, though Beomgyu was unmovable once he’d set his mind to something.

“I’ll be lying to him, then.” There was a ghost of a smile haunting Beomgyu’s lips. “I’ve hurt him tremendously, I’ve done the unforgiving. Even if it was Kai who turned the wind, it was my hand that threw the disc. He deserves to know and from then on he can judge if I am worth it.”

“And what if he decides you’re not? What if he resents you for all you did?”

Beomgyu took the silence as his cue to think about it. He weighed down the outcomes, the goods against the bad. He had lived a life full of unfaithfulness and wrong decisions – not all the time, he had an occasional time to shine; Taehyun would want nothing more than for him to be righteous.

“Then I’ll spend every minute, every hour, missing him. More and more.” He heaved a sigh. “I’ve always lived as a liar, a sinner. Honestly, I’m just a major loser, even bigger than Ares. I own up to it now.”

Yeonjun nodded, though he remained skeptical. “Cool, how will you bring it without seeming crazy?”

“I don’t know, pop out the armor and the sunshine?” Beomgyu offered.

Yeonjun choked on his saliva. “You want to reveal your godly form?”

Beomgyu razzed, waving off the ridiculous idea. “The partial one, of course. Don’t want him blowing up like Dionysus’ mom. I just got him back.”

“But, Beomgyu, you do understand that you two will never be the same again, right?” Yeonjun brought it with caution, afraid he might set off an emotional bomb. “They might share a soul and even a face, but they are still Hyacinthus and Taehyun. Two separate people.”

“I know,” Beomgyu said, “and it’ll be hard to accept, I suppose. But really, I didn’t fall for him just because he was Hyacinthus. At first, yes, but I got to know him for him. I got to know Taehyun, who does track, impulsively bought a pet snake, adores cats and sings so heavenly he puts me to shame.

“Taehyun who’s witty and bright, who giggles at others’ clumsy actions, secretly thinks I’m a stoner and offered to smoke weed with me one day. He still likes to make flower crowns, though, and he journals.”

“And his personality?” Yeonjun questioned.

“He’s gentle, but speaks his mind bluntly. He’s mature beyond his age, but acts his age divided by two on occasion. He’s great at faking interests that I wonder if he’s actually listening to me or pretending to. He’s observant and can always tell when I’m troubled or when anyone is. He reads me like an open book–“

Yeonjun clapped his hands to shut him up. “Yep, I’ve heard enough. You are, in fact, smitten.”

“Fatally.”

☀️

“Taehyun.”

The boy spun around, hair damp from the effort he’d poured into the competition earlier. He had his duffel bag slung over his shoulder; a parallel scene to the first night Beomgyu had encountered him.

“What is it, Gyu?”

Beomgyu picked at the loose thread of his jacket. “Do you… want to teach me how to throw a… discus?”

Surprise struck Taehyun’s face, but it was a pleasant one, one that melted into the blinding smile Beomgyu adored so much. His dimples appeared on his angled cheeks, making him look all the purer than he already was.

“Choi Beomgyu, have you finally grown the balls to get beaten by me?”

“If you’re not too tired,” Beomgyu quickly answered, waving his hands in front of his face.

“I’m never too tired for you,” Taehyun said. “Let’s go to the park instead. I don’t think you want to be humiliated in front of an audience. You know how to Frisbee?”

Beomgyu fiddled with his fingers. “So, we’re just going to Frisbee?”

It was rather pathetic, having an almighty being, a god that was feared by all and feared none, cowering in nerves around the boy he so happened to have fallen for.

“Yep,” Taehyun said, eyes crinkling. “Just some fun. All good. I don't need my ego boosted any more.”

The walk to the park was like any other walk they had shared, with jokes and occasional insightful comments, except Beomgyu’s insides were in shambles at the jitters battling within him. His voice was shaky, his hands clammy; the closer he got to the moment, the more he started questioning if it was the right thing to do.

Maybe Yeonjun was right and that he should treat Taehyun as a new person. Obviously he didn’t remember anything of the life they had shared. He didn’t know of the short bliss and the tragic longevity to follow it up.

“Taehyun,” Beomgyu called.

“Yeah, Gyu?” Taehyun noticed the distraught look on Beomgyu’s face. “You’re not chickening out, now are you?”

“No, of course not, but can we please not throw the discus?” Beomgyu’s shoulders shrunk with his volume.

Taehyun tilted his head, scanning the surrounding for anything that could’ve possible set the boy off. “Why not? That’s literally why we walked all the way over here.”

“No, Tyun, please trust me,” Beomgyu sighed. “Do you trust me?”

“Yeah, but you are acting very suspicious.”

Beomgyu stepped in front of him, though made sure to keep a few feet between them, but not so much that he would have to yell.

“You told me we would meet again, in better times,” Beomgyu said, watching Taehyun’s face drop into an unreadable expression, but then it went back to feigned confusion.

“What?” Taehyun’s lips formed a thing line. “Is this a gig? I thought you studied history and guitar, not theater.”

“I could never let you go and I’m sorry for that. If I had, then maybe we would’ve found each other again sooner.” All the fine hairs on Beomgyu’s arms stood up, his palms feeling disgusting and sticky. “Please don’t freak out.”

Before Taehyun could run – it was quite a common response when Beomgyu whipped out his godly form – he shut his eyes, let the golden light consume him in a burning cocoon. He lifted up slightly as he was stripped from all that made him mortal.

When he landed on the ground again, his skin held a golden hue, his eyes shining in similar specs. Over his shoulder hung a bow, arrows on his back. In his right hand he gripped his lyre so tightly he feared it would snap in half.

“It’s me, Hyacinthus, your rising sun,” Beomgyu whispered. “Do you remember me?”

Taehyun’s eyes were wide, though not with shock, but pleasant surprise. He gave no signs of being horrified, no fearful twitches in movement. Instead, he stepped forward, cupping Beomgyu’s cheeks with his slender hands.

Taehyun beamed at him, a gentle and intimate beam. “Took you long enough, my love.”

☀️

“So, that’s how I slayed the great ugly giant they tried to match my mother to,” Beomgyu told, slamming the book shut and placing it back on the shelf. “Hera, gotta love her.”

“Noted,” Taehyun agreed. “But, shouldn’t you be more careful, throwing around the Queen of Heaven’s name under the bus like that?”

Beomgyu’s golden eyes dimmed at the mention of her title. Even though they were glowering, Taehyun couldn’t help but be mesmerized by them. How had he not noticed them sooner? It was after Beomgyu had revealed himself that he truly noticed his godly attire.

His voice was hypnotizing when he sung, his touch healing and his skin glowed. Not in the way skin products did, but as if the sun had personally kissed him. He always had a golden hue surrounding him, like an untouchable aura.  

Taehyun felt blessed that Beomgyu had let him in again, with nothing left behind closed doors.

Taehyun giggled as he paged through the book in his hands. “You know what I find kinda funny, though?”

“What, Tyun?” Beomgyu asked, leaning over Taehyun’s shoulder to see what exactly he was reading. He paled. “Oh, Gods, no.”

Hermes’ origin story.

“If you’re the god of medicine, then why is Yeonjun’s staff-thingy used?” Taehyun pointed at the image with big, curious eyes.

“I gave him my Caduceus, so maybe the mortals got confused. It’s like he’s trying to steal everything from me,” Beomgyu shrugged. In a low murmur he added, “As if my cows weren’t enough, but I got a lyre for them. Pretty neat deal.”

“You traded cattle for… an instrument?” Taehyun sounded beyond unimpressed.

“It was pretty,” Beomgyu reasoned. “Sounded nice, too.”

Taehyun rubbed his face. “How are you a deity in charge of too many things?”

“Because I’m just that amazing.” Beomgyu poked Taehyun’s tummy. “Come on, Tyun, you don’t think I’m incapable.”

“You are a little dumb, but I guess it’s old age.”

Beomgyu would’ve loved to go all in and defend himself, but Taehyun’s soft lips brushed against his cheek. It was a fluttery kiss, gone as soon as it had arrived, but it was enough to send Beomgyu into silence and Cloud Nine.

☀️

Soobin eyed Kai’s gaze with caution as Beomgyu stole Taehyun away from their studying session. His face read cold-blooded murder while he glared down the sweet exchange between the God of the Sun and their shared crush with hawkish precision.

“Kai… it’s time to accept defeat,” Soobin said.

He placed his hand on top Kai’s, but Kai pulled it away, hating the way Soobin tried to cool off his fury. 

“No! If I can’t have him, then what does that scum have to deserve him?”

“You know how it ended last time,” Soobin tried to convince him. He sounded strained, exhausted. “Whether he is Taehyun or Hyacinthus, he’s never going to choose us. Not me, not you. It has always been him.” 

“It’s probably the chariot,” Kai muttered, running his fingers through his lengthy brown hair.

Soobin snorted. “Or he actually knows how to express himself?”

Beomgyu wrapped his arms around Taehyun’s waist, pointing at various books in the Myths and Folklore section of their college’s library, probably telling him which were bullshit and which were pretty nice.

Taehyun giggled, running his pinky down the slope of Beomgyu’s nose, pulling out one of the works.

Yeah, Kai’s day was ruined, as well as all to come.

“Shut up,” Kai spat. He squinted at his brother. “Shouldn’t you fly over to the North Pole or something?”

Soobin pursed his lips, his dimples making their shining appearance. “Nope, it’s autumn. That’s not my season, yet. Eurus is handling the weather these days.”

“I can’t wait to be busy again,” Kai responded, trying to drown his misery in global climate systems.

“You’ll have to wait for me to be done first,” Soobin sang.

He’d tossed aside his works ages ago. He knew enough about climates and he knew how he could manipulate the weather into his favor as well. If he had to fight a professor on the inaccuracies he would, even if he had to momentarily screw up the atmospheric conditions for it.

“I hope you’ll be more organized this time.” Kai jabbed a finger at Soobin’s chest. “It was a hell to get the temperature somewhat appropriate.”

“Just blame it on global warming,” Soobin shrugged.

Not wanting to stay in there any longer, Kai packed up his stuff and Soobin, being the great brother he was and also because he was absolutely fed up with education, followed him for moral support. Of course, misery loved chasing Kai’s tail.

Kai scoffed, kicking up the leaves as he walked. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets, the air oddly cold for so early in October. In his ear he heard soft giggles, followed by a loud, squeaky laugh.

“How in the name of Hades did he manage to charm so many people when he sounds like a dish being scrubbed?”

Soobin shot him a pitiful look. He swung his arm around his shoulder. “Now, Hyuka, let’s not get jealous.”

“Look at them, being happy,” Kai glowered.

Beomgyu was skipping around Taehyun, showering him with fallen leaves. It looked beautiful, like he was being swirled in an Indian Summer. Fucking sucky Instagram boyfriend material.

“Well, before they were, Beomgyu went through an eternity of pain,” Soobin reasoned.

Kai gave him an unimpressed deadpan. “Okay, and?”

“And? It was kind of your doing,” Soobin shot and it stung, it stung very, very badly.

His deeds had haunted him, all because he had the mentality of a toddler. He had let his feelings make his decisions, overtaken by envy. Apollo had it all, the honor and glory, the praise and now he had the beautiful boy he had pined for as well.

It had been a simple flick of the wrist and the outcome had been disastrous. If not me, then no one.

“Still.” Kai turned to face Soobin. His pupils shook as he asked in a frail voice, “Was I so wrong? There were worse deeds done.”

“That doesn’t make it alright.”

Kai solely sighed at his brother, playing with the wilted leaves on the trees, spinning them around in whirlpools of reds, yellows and browns.

Kai loved the boy, truly did, even if it was only by watching him from a distance. It was a horrible taste in his mouth, a disgusting venom seeping out from through his ribs; the conscience of guilt. He had regretted it, every day that he had acted out of spite but he couldn’t undo it, nor did he want to live to see Apollo finding happiness in a love that could have been his.

Ariadne and Psyche had both gotten the luck of becoming deities alongside their lovers, but Apollo’s journey of love was one filled with misfortune. The only thing he could do to preserve his lover’s soul was by capturing it in nature, shaped in the words he cried out.

Kai had watched the god weep, his tears mixing with the blood that stained the ground, weeping, “Alas, alas, alas!” on repeat.

But what could Kai do? What was written in the past couldn’t be undone. 

☀️

Kai watched the exchanges from the trees, hidden between the green leaves. The sun was high in the sky, stuck on its midday peak.

He watched and watched, but not once did he step forward. In all honesty, he had no clue how to reveal himself. Above that, cracking his way between what was their sweet embrace, Kai wouldn’t be more than an intruder, an unwanted guest.

However, despite only having encountered Hyacinthus when he was busy guiding spring into its awakening and bringing the warm winds from the west, Kai was going green with jealousy. Greener than his season, the tint of poison.  If he had made a move before Apollo and his stupid chariot, then it could have been him.

It was him to blame, really, but the thing that came with being a god was that admitting fault never came easy. 

And so, with all the negativity he harbored seeping out of every pore of his body, he raised his arms. The wind howled, the grass flattened against the surface and before their season had come, the leaves disassembled from the trees.

What followed were a thud and a scream that could pulverize his heart and conscience. The sun didn’t set that day; the dread and hurt had stopped the world from spinning. With the sky still bright and the day never-ending, Kai couldn’t sleep, though that’s what he liked to tell himself.   

☀️

“I’ve got the goods!” Yeonjun screamed as soon as he entered Taehyun’s small, but cozy apartment. He raised the bags in his hand, a loud clinking being heard between them. “Courtesy of Dionysus!”

Beomgyu scrunched up his nose. “How does he still let you drink his stuff?”

“He loves those who share great taste,” Yeonjun stated simply, though not after sending a bratty glance. “Just because I’m your favorite, doesn’t mean you’re mine.”

Taehyun stepped in between them before Beomgyu could unleash a cursed arrow or something. “I’ve heard he has the best grape juice.”

“I heard ‘grape juice’.”

Yeonjun spun on his heel at the voice, scrunching up his nose at Kai. He hugged the bottles to his chest. “Not for you.”

“Why are you here?” Beomgyu’s voice was spine-shaking, accusing and chilling.

“I was invited.” Kai raised his eyebrows at Beomgyu. He slid passed Yeonjun and presented a sloppily wrapped package. “Happy birthday, Tae. I didn’t know what you liked, so I got some pens I found.”

“Never enough pens,” Taehyun chuckled, accepting the graceful gift. He looked at the boy behind him. “What about you, Soobin?”

“Former owner of the pens,” Soobin opened his arms, “and bearing a hug. And also cake.”

Taehyun giddily accepted the embrace. “You know, from deities I’d expected something a little more grand.”

“Nah, the celebrations on Olympus always end in chaos. Trojan War? Result of party drama. Creation of the tortoise? Result of party drama.”

“That last one was my fault, not gonna lie,” Yeonjun piped in from Taehyun’s kitchen, already pouring the glasses.

Kai snorted, remembering the way Hera and Zeus had stirred up a fuss. Gods, these two really knew how to blow situations out of proportions.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but Tyun, why did you invite him?” Beomgyu asked, teeth grinding against each other.

Taehyun scratched the spot behind his ear, avoiding Beomgyu’s gaze. “It’s my birthday and he is my friend.”

“Your friend?!” Beomgyu looked mortified, expression jumping from Kai to Taehyun, back and forth.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking– ‘but Taehyun, he killed you in your past life! How can you stand him?’” Taehyun clasped his hands together. “Exactly, in my past life. I’m still alive and kicking, so I’m sure Kai’s gotten over his temper tantrum phase.”

“Barely,” Soobin spoke under his breath.

Kai raised his fist. “I can’t wait for winter to come.”

Taehyun once again had to save the day, like the hero he was. “So, is Soobin like, the Snow Queen?”

Soobin blinked a few times at the odd question. He’d never gotten that one before. “…No, no I’m not. I’m just the overseer of the season. Guardian of Winter.”

“So, like that fairy from Tinker Bell?” Taehyun’s curiosity knew no ends.

Soobin ran a hand through his hair, resting it in his neck. “…Yes. Like the fairy from Tinker Bell.”

“We should totally have you dress up as them. And Kai too!” Taehyun suggested.

Soobin’s expression turned sour, but for the sake of their favorite mortal he latched on a smile. His eyes were twitching, though.

Yeonjun popped up next to him, holding up two glasses of sour, red. He swirled it in front of Soobin’s face. “You need one too?”

Soobin about snatched it from his hand. “Yes.”

“Okay, okay! But this day is about our beloved Taehyun!” Beomgyu said, drawing all the attention with his loud voice. “Our beauty, our grace, our punch in the face!”

He wrapped an arm around Taehyun’s slender waist with a cheeky grin, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Happy birthday, love.”

Taehyun’s cheeks colored a cherry blossom pink. “You had to word it that way?”

“Don’t say you wouldn’t.” Beomgyu clapped his hands before Taehyun could reply. “Anyways, let’s chant in his honor!”

Beomgyu whipped out his guitar – when had he gotten that? – and strummed the opening chords. For all of the beings present being gifted in the vocal department, the simple melody was surprisingly out of tune, but it was probably Yeonjun’s fault for belting unnecessarily and trying to harmonize. Beomgyu liked to believe that he had enjoyed some pre-party booze.

“Thanks, guys,” Taehyun said, sounding genuine. His eyes shone. “Thank you for reminding me that I’m the only person aging in this room.”

“We could fix that,” Beomgyu muttered under his breath.

Eyes bore through his back, but he didn’t pay it much mind. Instead he shot finger guns at Yeonjun. “Bring out the glasses, YJ!”

“On it, BG!”

The night had been spent with laughter, though Beomgyu still refused to even glance in Kai’s direction, to which Taehyun smacked him on the head. So, he held conversations with the boy if need be, short and cut off, but it was progress. Soobin was pretty cool, at least.

Beomgyu had to admit that Dionysus’ wine was indeed top notch, which convinced him even more that Yeonjun had stolen them. No way would their little brother let Yeonjun take his best drinks.

“What about your gift, Gyu?” Taehyun whispered after the party had officially ended.

Yeonjun was passed out on the carpet, mumbling about Dionysus having to catch him if he can. As quoted, ‘I’m faster than Speedy Gonzales. I am speed. Catch me if you can, if you can even walk in a line’, said way more slurred and mumbled. He punched the air a few times too.

Soobin had tried to fit his lanky body on Taehyun’s tiny couch, but his right leg was sticking over the side as his left dangled over the floor. His neck looked painful. His position was sure to leave a cramp in more than one part of his body.

Kai was curled up against him, shuddering against Soobin’s cold skin every now and then, but nonetheless he looked rather peaceful. Only the frown between his eyebrows seemed permanent.

“Wait and see,” Beomgyu replied in an equally hushed tone, “after everyone is tucked in.”

Taehyun pouted, poking at Beomgyu’s ear. “They’re all fast asleep.”

“Then, I suppose we can go.” Beomgyu walked out to Taehyun’s balcony.

Taehyun’s eyebrows knitted together, but he hobbled after him anyway. “Go where?”

“You’ll see.”

Beomgyu waved his hand and as if it were a shooting star, a gleaming chariot raced down from the sky, pulled by two majestic horses. He pet one of them, pressing his forehead against theirs.

He then clambered over the gates, boarding his pride. He held out a hand for Taehyun to grab. “Hop in.”

Taehyun’s jaw dropped. “Your chariot? No.”

Beomgyu gave an encouraging smile. “Trust me, Tyun. You can hold onto me, I promise you’ll be safe.”

With shaking fingers and a whole lot of hesitation, Taehyun accepted his outstretched hand. The chariot was quivering under his added weight and he let out a squeak, but Beomgyu quickly wrapped his arms around him to catch him.

“See, Tyun, I’ve got you,” he beamed. “Now, hold on tight.”

Taehyun didn’t have to be told twice. With the security of a safety gear, Taehyun snaked his arms around Beomgyu’s waist, face pressed between his shoulder blades. The wind felt icy against his hands, goose bumps forming all over him. They must be going fast.

“Do you dare looking?” Beomgyu asked him, shouting over the wind.

“No!”

Beomgyu responded with a laugh, his entire body rumbling with it. The winds slowed down, the warm rays of the sun hitting his bared skin. Taehyun nuzzled deeper into Beomgyu, inhaling his comforting scent.

“Do you dare look now?”

Taehyun cracked open an eye, though they grew to the size of saucers when he was met with the scenery. They were high above the clouds, but the purple bedding spread over the ground was hard to miss.

“This…” He was amazed. Unconsciously he pressed himself closer to Beomgyu. “Beomgyu, good god–“

“I’m a great god, yeah,” Beomgyu agreed.

“No, Gyu, this is… I don’t even know what to say,” Taehyun murmured, his tone watery with emotion.

Beomgyu took one of Taehyun’s hands in his, running his thumb over the back. “Let me land the chariot first, yeah?”

Taehyun gave a nod, letting Beomgyu guide them down to safe land. It went smoothly, only a few bumps here and there. They halted.

Taehyun gasped, stepping down with wobbling knees. He ran his fingers through the high grass, the fresh scent hitting his nostrils like a nostalgic memory, a déjà vu of his previous state of being. 

“For every day I waited, every drop that you bled, a flower has sprouted and from that flower has your soul been a gift to this ground,” Beomgyu sounded from behind him.

Taehyun turned around to meet Beomgyu’s golden eyes. The sun enhanced his silhouette like he was from a shadow play, honey tones bringing out the light in his skin. He was as Taehyun remembered him; otherworldly, proud and enchanting. 

Beomgyu waded his way through the field of lilacs and violets. The flowers’ heads were lifted at the sky, bright with the being that had granted them existence.

Taehyun smiled at him, the back of his fingers trailing down Beomgyu’s temple, resting his palm against his jaw line. Beomgyu held onto it with both hands. 

“Then, as these flowers bloom, each of their petals shall be the moments we spend together,” Taehyun whispered. “Every laugh we share, every hardship we fight through, each flower will be a token of what we share.”

“Damn, Tyun, you learn from me more and more,” Beomgyu laughed, though in those golden irises shone nothing but affection. “I blessed Shakespeare with his gift, but look at you stealing the show.”

“Eh,” Taehyun shrugged. “I try.”

☀️

Beomgyu had never thought he’d get the privilege to ever be close to Taehyun without breaking him, but Taehyun was in his crappy dorm, cuddling him from behind, chin rested on his shoulder.

He was the sweetest thing Beomgyu knew, after living an eternity deprived of it. After ages of aimless wandering, he had found a home within a person. Purple hyacinths were spread out in front of them as Beomgyu was doing his best to assemble them into a flower crown, with Taehyun giving the occasional instructions.

He had a ton of plants lining his balcony and window frames. He was glad he hadn’t ever done anything to anger Demeter too much, though he believed he saw their common grape hyacinth strangling Yeonjun once.

“You really kept those all these years?” Taehyun sounded impressed – finally. “I never took you as a gardener.”

“I have that whole field in Greece. The place was called Sparta, back then.” Beomgyu groaned when the stem snapped. “I used to lay there every night, sad as it sounds, just to feel your presence.”

Taehyun hummed. “Well, I guess with the amount of pretty boys and girls turning into flora, all the Olympians should have a set of green thumbs.”

“To be fair, it was Narcissus’ own fault. He makes a pretty flower, though, that bastard,” Beomgyu grumbled.

Taehyun gave him a pointed look. “And I did not?”

“Well, your flower was bittersweet to me, an agonizing beauty that used to remind me of my shortcomings as well as a joy that I’ve lost.” Beomgyu looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Hush,” Taehyun took Beomgyu’s masterpiece to help him with the finishing touches. “I’m here now.”

“I still can’t believe it.” Beomgyu turned around, tracing the corners of Taehyun’s face with his fingers. “Are you even real? I’m so afraid that this might be a dream I’ll have to awake from one day.”

Taehyun shook his head, corners of his mouth curled upwards. He placed the crown on Beomgyu’s head. “Well, best do, because I’m not leaving anytime soon. This time I am prepared for Kai’s bursts of anger!”

“Too soon,” Beomgyu muttered, eyebrows furrowing.

“What do you mean, ‘too soon’?” Taehyun bopped his nose, teasing glint in his eyes. “You had, like, 2000 years?”

“And every day it hurt. I really don’t get why you want me. I’m a walking disaster. I have all my mistakes painted on me.” Beomgyu played with his fingers. “Tell me, Tyun, are you a disaster tourist?”

Taehyun sighed with dejection. He raised Beomgyu’s chin and stared right into his golden eyes, watching how they contrasted with the lavender on his head. He looked ethereal, just as the deity he was, but Taehyun had experienced more than once how truly tiny he could feel.

“You can stop hurting now, Gyu.” Taehyun pressed a fluttery kiss against Beomgyu’s forehead, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “I’m here now. Not just in memory. You won’t lose me, not until I have to meet Thanatos again.”

“Even then, I’ll be with you. Just know that I will follow you to the ends of the Earth.” Beomgyu bit his lip, imprinting all of Taehyun onto his retina. “To a world for only our eyes to see. To an island where all is silent and all that is, is our syncing heartbeats, beating as one.”