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Deep underwater, where the moonlight cannot reach and mortals don’t attempt to reach, Yeonjun swims carelessly among the darkness. Most fishes and other creatures are fast asleep by now, and it’s his duty to watch over them and ensure their safety – be it from themselves or something from the surface. Yeonjun takes pride in being the type of god that cherishes his domain instead of believing that the oceans are his obligation like some fellow deities do. He loves each and every creature that comes from the water, and the creature loves him back just the same.

Nighttime is the time where he’s the most active for unknown reasons, swimming side to side in search of something that he cannot put a name into. Most of the time, the ocean is dead silent, waves swaying lazily around him, some fishes batting their fins close to his scales in respect and affection as they pass by. Yeonjun likes to stay close to the deeper ends of the sea, to visit the supposedly monsters that the other sea-creatures frightfully speak about. The leviathans, the ones that look scary but are the most lovely ones among the seas.

Tonight, something doesn’t seem quite right.

Yeonjun has this aching feeling, a shiver that runs through his scales and stops at the tip of his horns. The other creatures seem to be feeling the same way, for they whisper to him about how scared they are and plead to him to make the feeling go away. Yeonjun tries his best to calm them down, but it turns out to be in vain as the ocean shifts in a blink of an eye and turns into high tides before he can grasp his surroundings. He barely has the time to stay steady as the tides swing aggressively, taking everything with them.

The creatures beg for him to make it stop, but Yeonjun has no idea what is happening or how to make it stop. He’s not furious, he’s not angry, he’s not the one commanding the tides to act impetuously. The leviathans and fishes from the deeper waters retreat to the darkness, the fishes from the upper side try to swim away from the angry currents. It’s a chaos that threatens the peace that his domain should be sporting at this time of the night. That makes Yeonjun unsettled.

The sea is not supposed to answer to anyone else but him, why is it acting in such a way when he’s not the one controlling it?

Yeonjun swims faster to the surface, in hopes that the answer will be there. Maybe some god is tampering with him again, playing a prank after Yeonjun refused to join the spring solstice once again – it wouldn’t be the first time something like this happens, but he thought he was clear enough the last time when he almost drowned the whole world in retaliation. His tail moves almost on its own, body restless as the chants of his name coming from the underwater creatures never cease. He breaks the surface in time to see a big wave almost reaching the skies, kissing the darkest of moons he has ever seen in eons.

The skies are the darkest shade of purple available in this realm, looking almost black and unreachable to Yeonjun. A million stars shine among the darkness, so many white spots that his hands itches to try touching them, collect one by one and keep it to himself – but he’ll never do such, the stars in the skies are not part of his domain. When he looks at the direction the wave is coming from, he’s surprised to see someone perched on a thin stroke of silver.

A soft laughter echoes in the emptiness of the open seas as soon as the wave reaches the moon and splashes back to where it belongs. Yeonjun feels a shudder run through his spine, the sound reverberating in his body and singing like a hummingbird inside his ribcage. He’s awestruck, frozen in place as he watches the person keep giggling as another wave tries to reach them, going so high in the sky that Yeonjun almost forgets the unnaturalness of it, that the waves are not acting this way because of him.

“Who dares to temper with my domain?” Yeonjun inquires, voice rumbling like thunder all over the waters. The wave falls down as soon as the words are out, leaving the moon alone in the empty skies, giving it a better view of whoever is controlling his domain against his will.

Black hair with stars attached to it the same way the starfishes do with the mermaids underwater, sparkling and making the person look almost ethereal. White robes with silvery embroidery covers the large but delicate frame above, looking a little bit darker because of the lack of light coming from within. Yeonjun pays close attention to the scepter in their hands, made of pure gold and with a moon and star at the top, silently telling about the person’s identity.

The moon god, the one that Yeonjun only hears about from his close friends once in a while, the one that was meant to marry the sun god but never got the chance to do so, the one that steals loving sighs and desiring looks from other deities. Yeonjun has never seen him this close before, almost at arms’ reach if he ever desires to touch him.

Yeonjun never thought about touching the moon god, not until now.

“Forgive me,” he says with sincerity, bowing slightly in utmost respect. “I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble, I only wanted to see those shiny fishes that swim close to the surface.”

It sounds so childish to Yeonjun’s ears. A deity tempering with his domain in such a scale to the point of scaring even the leviathans, and all of that because he wanted to see shiny fishes that Yeonjun gets to see every night? It sounds innocent and naive, like the moon deity is nothing but a curious boy who doesn’t know a single thing about the world instead of an all-knowing eons-old creature roaming this realm.

The bird keeps singing inside his ribcage. Yeonjun doesn’t understand the reason behind it. Birds aren’t supposed to sing at night, it makes no sense.

“How are you doing this?” Yeonjun asks, atop one of the high tides that almost reach the moon, blueish hair sticking to his skin. Above the surface, his human form is the one he uses in order to not frighten the other deities and creatures alike, not most know about how his real form looks like. “No deity should be able to hold this much power over a domain that it’s not theirs.”

“The moon controls the tides, depending on the phases,” the moon deity replies, matter-of-factly, followed by a muffled chuckle hidden behind his robe sleeve. When he looks at Yeonjun, his eyes are slightly dark with a twinkle of silver that it’s impossible to miss. “I thought the sea deity would know that better than anyone.”

Yeonjun knows that the moon deity is teasing him at that moment – and if any other deity even thought about doing the same, he’d make the tides higher enough to swallow and get them to the bottom of the ocean. But something about the way the moon deity laughs shyly at his own words and keeps himself behind a veil of silver amuses Yeonjun in ways that he hasn’t felt in so long.

For a moment that feels like an eternity, he forgets that something is happening beyond this small gap in time and space that he made in order to approach the moon deity. For a moment, there’s only him sitting in the highest of waves, almost kissing the new moon as he stares at the moon deity in uncanny devotion. The bird pecks at his ribcage, trying to break free from the cage but unable to do so. Yeonjun is brought back to reality, looking down at the chaotic tides under them and faintly hearing the cry of the creatures underneath.

“Make it stop,” Yeonjun commands, looking back at the deity with the most serious look he can muster amidst his eerie feelings towards him. “You’re scaring them rather than making them feel comfortable enough to swim closer to the surface.”

The moon deity loudly gasps at those words, looking down at the aggressive tides with a frown as his eyes turn pitch black. It resembles the night skies, starry and devoid of light at the same time. The tides do not cease or stop, and that makes Yeonjun annoyed because he feels powerless compared to whatever the moon deity is doing. The creatures keep begging, but the deity in front of him doesn’t move a single muscle to abide by his command.

“Forgive me once again,” he says, sounding so heartbroken that Yeonjun feels like claws are clasping around his own heart and slowly puncturing the organ. “I didn’t mean to–”

“This never happened before,” Yeonjun thinks out loud, a hand over his chest, resting exactly where his heart insistently beats in an erratic pattern. “Why is it happening now?”

Why does he feel this way over the sadness suddenly plastered in the moon deity’s face? It shouldn’t matter how he feels, Yeonjun barely knows him, Yeonjun never cared about any other deities feelings before.

“I’m deeply sorry,” the moon deity pleads again, holding his scepter hard enough that his knuckles turn as white as the moon glows over the sea. “I’ll go back to the skies and far away from the sea, maybe the tides will calm down this way. It seems that I also have no control over them too.”

How amusing. He can make the tides act this impetuously, but does not have any control over them. It almost looks like the sea is acting on its own, trying to reach somewhere that Yeonjun has never actually looked at, never paid the attention that it deserved. Yeonjun looks at the moon, sure; he likes the moonlight over the waters and he enjoys the gleam that comes from it, how it prevents this realm from being completely swallowed by darkness when night comes. But he never actually looked at the moon, looked at the moon deity sitting on it, always staring down at the world in the solitude of the nighttime.

Yeonjun wonders if the moon deity feels lonely, and maybe that’s the reason why the tides are yearning to reach him this desperately.

“For one of the most important deities in this realm, you sure ask for forgiveness quite a lot,” Yeonjun snorts, hands playing with the soaked ends of his dark-blue robe. “Perhaps, ask for permission the next time you decide to come close to the sea. I’ll be able to control it if you cannot.”

The moon deity looks at him with widened eyes, blinking back in surprise. “You’re not forbidding me to approach your domain?”

“If you were lying about your real intentions, I would’ve known that by now,” he explains, taking one of the shiny fishes that the moon deity wanted to see into his hands, trying to calm it down. The moon deity watches it with sheer delight in his eyes, a small smile adorning his lips upon seeing the tenderness Yeonjun displays with the fish. “Be gentle with the fishes next time. They get easily scared by roughness, like any other creature from my domain. Always remember that.”

“Oh. I’ll keep that in mind.” The moon deity hums, hesitantly moving his hand down until he can touch the fish in Yeonjun’s hand. He startles when the fish jerks, jumping back into the waters that are slowly calming down. He giggles, dimples showing and eyes closing into small crescents. Yeonjun feels mesmerized by the sight. “Do I need to be gentle with you in order to receive the joy of your company too,  My Lord?” he adds as an afterthought, looking hopefully at Yeonjun.

Yeonjun swallows dry, taken aback by the sudden question. “Excuse me?”

“I–” 

His eyes go as wide as the moon behind them, almost surprised by his own words. Silence befalls them, the only sound around being the high tides under them. The moon deity closes his eyes and says something under his breath that Yeonjun cannot decipher, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it as the deity looks back at him with shyness.

“Forget it, please,” he says, voice almost a whisper carried by the wind. “It’s almost daytime.”

That statement captures Yeonjun’s attention, his eyes shifting from the deity in front of him to the slowly clearing skies. The darkness from before slowly turned into lighter splotches of colors; light blues, oranges, pinks, lavenders, beautiful shades that at any time would make Yeonjun happy, but he’s far from feeling such. It won’t be long until Beomgyu, the sun deity, takes his rightful place in the skies and walks among the lands with sunlight on his robes.

In the back of his mind, Yeonjun finds himself wishing for his time with the moon deity to not end this sooner. Strangely, he enjoyed his company more than he thought he would.

“Call for me the next time you decide to approach the sea, and I’ll come to you.” Yeonjun states, watching the moon deity get up from the place he was sitting, balancing his feet in a thin line of silvery that he was sitting above. “But with only one condition.”

The moon deity raises one eyebrow. “And that shall be?”

“Give me your name, Moon Deity.”

That was the first time Yeonjun ever asked for something in his whole existence. He never took anything for granted, always content with whatever swings his way or to live completely far from the other deities that don’t understand his need for loneliness and space from time to time. For the first time, watching the moon deity open the brightest smile that could rival the sunlight, Yeonjun wishes for something – he wishes to know more about him, to spend nights close to him, to understand if the moon deity’s loneliness is the same as his.

And maybe, they could be alone together, to share the loneliness and darkness of the night together like they did tonight.

“You can call me Soobin,” he says in a whisper, meant only for Yeonjun’s ears as the sun rises. Soobin looks up at the skies before slowly disappearing like a vision. “Farewell, Yeonjun. ”

Yeonjun doesn’t think much about the fact that the moon deity knows his name, it’s not something uncommon to happen when he’s such a known deity among the others. What he does think about is how the tides calm almost instantly once Soobin is gone, how there’s a lingering longing in the waters – as if the sea misses the moon, like lovers having to part ways without knowing when they’ll be together again.

He feels strangely excited for nighttime to approach again, he cannot wait to see Soobin again, with the stars stuck in his hair and dimples showing up in his cheeks as he smiles, to hear giggles that feel like sunlight kissing his skin as he breaches the surface, to unravel secrets about Soobin like a pirate seeking treasures. Yeonjun swims down and pretends how his whole body is tingling with anxiety for night to arrive.

— ☾ ◐ ◯ ◑ ☽ —

Soobin comes back a week after their first encounter. The tides are still moving out of Yeonjun’s control this whole time, but the moon deity is nowhere to be seen whenever Yeonjun reaches the surface and looks up. The moon remains a blotch of darkness in the sky, with only a thin line of silvery. Soobin’s figure is completely out of sight, no matter how much he stares at the moon and waits for the deity to show up. Yeonjun spends most of that time in the dark waters, trying to keep the sea monsters and leviathans calm until sunlight comes and the high tides cease.

It’s presumptuous to say that Yeonjun spent a whole week looking forward to seeing Soobin again, sitting high and magnificent atop of the moon, sharing his silvery glow to the realm of the living. And when the day of their reunion finally happens, Yeonjun cannot put a name on the strange feeling that grips at his core and makes him swim faster than ever to the surface as soon as he sees the moonlight falling above the waters.

It’s been a few days since Soobin came back, but Yeonjun feels like he has already spent eternity with his company. Soobin sitting with his legs dangling over the world and Yeonjun perched in the highest of waves he’s able to create in order for them to be close. Things turned out to be easier than he thought it would be. Soobin, as shy and quiet at first interaction during the new moon, proves to be uniquely different once the ghost of shyness moves away and gives way to a more carefree, talkative and alluring personality that Yeonjun thinks that not all deities have the chance to see.

It’s a new thought that breaches his mind whenever he thinks about Soobin – that maybe he’s the only one that has the chance to see the moon deity in such a way, laughing full-bodily with eyes crinkled in the corners, the sound echoing in the darkness of a nighttime made only of them.

Lately, Yeonjun cherishes the night more than the day.

When the moon is in the first quarter, Soobin looks fascinating. Half of his face is shrouded in the silvery glow of moonlight, making his skin almost gleam; the other half is covered by the endless darkness of the night but still so mesmerizing that Yeonjun almost forgets that this isn’t how Soobin is supposed to look normally. It’s no secret that his beauty is beyond anything he has ever seen before in the lands and the skies, the reason other deities fancy Soobin beyond understanding, the reason the tales about the night being dangerous comes because of his beauty. That’s enough to frighten Yeonjun more than the thought of possibly losing his domain.

Falling for Soobin means longing, and that’s something Yeonjun isn’t akin to feeling at the moment.

“I wish I could see all the creatures you speak so fondly about.” Soobin sighs deeply, staring at the starfish that attaches itself to Yeonjun’s hair, the same way the stars in the skies keep themselves tangled in Soobin’s hair.

It’s something that is visibly noticeable whenever he starts rambling about his domain and the creatures under his protection and care, how Soobin always pays the utmost attention, eyes filled with curiosity and fondness, a tiny speckle of sadness underneath it. Sadness that comes in the form of how much he wants to know more about Yeonjun’s domain, about the creatures he talks about, to see with his own eyes the sea monsters and leviathans he talks so fondly about even when they were supposed to be scary.

Soobin has a longing in his eyes that makes Yeonjun’s heart ache, it fuels a dormant desire to steal the moon from the skies and bring him deep underwater, to keep Soobin all to himself and never again see the sadness and loneliness in those dark eyes of him.

“Maybe you could,” Yeonjun mumbles, hoping the sound of the waves will swallow his words before they can reach the moon’s ears.

“Don’t be silly, Yeonjun,” Soobin says fondly, fidgeting with his scepter. “I cannot leave this place, no matter how much I want it.”

“But Beomgyu leaves the skies all the time.”

It’s a well-known truth that Beomgyu walks among the lands more than any other deity from the skies that Yeonjun knows – and it’s something that has been sitting in the back of his mind lately, insistently itching his brain. If Beomgyu can walk in land and live among the mortals and other deities, why can’t Soobin do the same? In Yeonjun’s eyes, their powers are close to the same and the tales he heard speak clearly about how Soobin and Beomgyu are parts that complete each other. Why is Soobin stuck in the endless loneliness of the night skies when Beomgyu can enjoy the whole world during the day?

It doesn’t make sense. And it only fuels his desire to steal Soobin away and see if someone would actually miss him the same way Yeonjun keeps missing him the past week once the sun rises.

“Beomgyu is the sun deity,” he says, matter-of-factly. Soobin looks somewhat different when he talks about the sun deity, not actually meeting Yeonjun’s eyes and shifting until the dark quarter of the moon almost covers the lightened part of his face too. “I’m not almighty like him.”

Yeonjun frowns, suddenly angry at those words. “Who told you such a lie?”

“I don’t need anyone to say it. I know my place better than anyone else, Yeonjun.” Soobin states, the lightness from before is suddenly swallowed by this tense air around the deities, keeping them inside a bubble made of suffocating feelings. “Besides, I’m only a shadow of what he is.”

“Why do you speak so lowly of yourself?” Yeonjun pleads, hands itching to try reaching for the moon’s face, but he knows that he’s not supposed to touch him like that – not now, not ever. “Soobin, you are just as important as him.”

“I know I am important for some,” he says, still not looking at Yeonjun as he talks and that makes the sea deity unsettled. “I’m not as oblivious as some would say.”

Yeonjun wants Soobin to look at him, he wants to see Soobin’s eyes as he speaks about something that probably was never meant to be brought up as a topic between them because they are still strangers, no matter how hard Yeonjun wants to think otherwise. Deep in his heart, he feels like he has known Soobin for so long that the feeling creeps in his bones and tangles around his veins. His heart beats in a melody meant only for the moon to hear, body craving for a closeness that he cannot understand.

His whole being yearns for Soobin and only Soobin. And at the same time it’s an indescribable feeling, Yeonjun is deeply scared of it.

Soobin finally looks at him, as if reading his inner turmoil. But it’s not the look that Yeonjun was hoping to see. No sparkling eyes, no crinkled eyes because of a smile, not filled with curiosity over his domain and the deity that controls it. No, Soobin’s eyes are filled with loathing and hatred. Not towards Yeonjun, or Beomgyu, or any other deity; but rather, at himself.

“How can I not feel like a shadow when his glow is the only reason why I have my own glow?” Soobin scoffs, and his words sound like blades cutting through skin.

Yeonjun’s anger dissolves into confusion. How come Beomgyu is the one that casts this beautiful pale and silvery glow of moonlight when his rays are made of burning and bright yellows? It makes no sense to him, and it must be visible in his face.

“But you have your own glow.”

“You’re so naive, Yeonjun,” he scorns, spiteful in ways Yeonjun has never seen in him before. “I’m not a star like Beomgyu. I do not have my own glow, all I have is the reflection of him over me. That’s the reason why the moon has phases instead of staying the same every night like the sun does.”

“But you’re shining down on the sea right now,” Yeonjun points out, opening his arms and showing the moonlight casting over his midnight blue robes and the calm ocean under him. “You’re always shining down on me, Soobin.”

“All thanks to Beomgyu, I cannot take the praise for that.” Soobin snorts, looking away at the dark side of the moon.

Silence befalls the night, like it always has been in the past before the moon finally met the sea. Yeonjun used to enjoy the silence that came with nighttime, the calmness that was strikingly different from the flamboyant and boisterous cacophony of daytime. But that was before, in a time where Soobin has not made the tides high enough to touch the skies only because he wanted to see fishes, in a time where Yeonjun has not seen the moon deity sitting on a thin line of a new moon and giggling as water splashed him. 

In a time where the sea has not fallen at first sight for the moon.

Now, all Yeonjun wants to do is reach out and touch Soobin’s face, to make him look his way and hear that his glow is more pretty than the one Beomgyu casts over the living realm once daytime comes. Soobin has to know that, he has to know that someone in this world loves the moonlight even if it doesn’t actually belong to the moon deity. For a second too long, Yeonjun ponders over his words and his burning desire to touch the moon, but he holds back from moving his hands from the place they stay, opening and closing fists as he thinks that words are more than enough.

Even if it’s not enough for him.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” he says, voice and words enough to bring Soobin’s attention back. The moon looks at him with furrowed eyebrows, confused by the sea reaction. “I like your glow, I like the way you shine the most when night falls, I like–”

You. It goes unsaid, and Yeonjun is glad that he was able to hold himself back from accidentally spilling a secret that it’s meant only for him to know. A secret that he’ll bury back in his heart and keep there for eternity because this talk has only reminded him of a fact that Yeonjun has forgotten in his silly thoughts about stealing Soobin away and selfishly keeping him to himself.

Soobin is betrothed to Beomgyu, two deities created for one another and meant to be together. That’s the reason why Beomgyu lends his glow for Soobin and makes him able to produce the moonlight that Yeonjun came to fall in love with. How could he forget about something so crucial? How could his foolish heart and mind completely erase reality in order to feed him with unreachable fantasies about the moon perhaps falling for him too and giving away his heart for him to take care?

Yeonjun is stupid, so stupid that he feels like allowing himself to get washed away by this big wave he made to reach the single being that he’ll never be able to actually reach.

“Thank you, Yeonjun,” Soobin says, genuinely grateful.

When he looks back, Soobin’s eyes are sparkling so much that one could easily mistake them for stars, or that the stars got tired of staying in the skies and decided to attach themselves to his eyes. Yeonjun wishes he could not fall deeper for Soobin, but it’s turning out to be an impossible feature.

“I like shining down on the sea too,” Soobin continues with a soft chuckle. “It makes it easier to see all the amazing creatures from your domain.”

“Only the creatures?”

Soobin raises an eyebrow. “Are you perhaps trying to get a compliment out of me, Yeonjun?”

“Maybe,” he admits sheepishly, looking away in embarrassment. Yeonjun hopes that his cheeks are not flushed by his shameful approach at trying to get a compliment out of Soobin. He wishes he could read the moon’s mind, to know how the moon sees him – to know if the moon shares the same feelings for him. “But I suppose the moon deity already has someone.”

“Excuse me?”

“Beomgyu, right?” Yeonjun says, not daring to look at Soobin as he speaks. “Isn’t the sun and moon made to complete one another as the tales say?”

“Oh, that is so far from the truth.” Soobin laughs, with a tiny bit of sorrow lingering at the end of the melodious sound. Yeonjun still can’t look his way, but he can see from his peripheral that the moon has his fingers drumming around his scepter and eyebrows slightly furrowed in thoughts. “I suppose the tales are right to some extent. I was indeed brought to this realm in order to be Beomgyu’s other half and for us to eventually complete each other. That’s partially the reason while he offers me part of his glow in order for me to bring moonlight to this realm. But somewhere in our path, we never got together in the way the tales speak of.”

This information takes less than a minute to be completely understood in Yeonjun’s brain, a wave of foolish hope drowning him right next. Perhaps, there is a high possibility of his secret feelings to see the moonlight and be free to lightly drizzle over Soobin, in the same way the waves were doing that first night he saw the moon deity. Hope is what led so many mortals to their demise in all ways imaginable – and now, Yeonjun can understand the reason behind it.

“You’re not betrothed to Beomgyu?” Yeonjun asks, looking at Soobin in time to see the moon looking back at him, something gleaming in his dark eyes.

“You see, the sun has a single heart divided in two parts. One belongs to the earth, the other belongs to the horizon, and that’s something that cannot be changed even if the tales tell otherwise. A love not meant to prevail, but the sun does not care about foolish rules as long as he can have the two parts of his single heart together.”

Soobin talks as if telling a story that no one will ever get the chance to hear. Perhaps, an universal truth. For no one will ever know that the sun and the moon are not lovers like they were expected to be.

“There’s no space for the moon in the sun’s heart, and that’s not something I loathe Beomgyu for,” he sighs as he continues, no actual sadness or defeat in his features. “We came to the conclusion that the friends’ route would be the best for us. As much as I adore Beomgyu with all my being, sometimes he can be a little…”

He seems to be looking for the best word to describe someone as energetic as Beomgyu without using something that might come off as rude. Yeonjun has not much to say about the sun deity, they only talked briefly in the few encounters they had when he’s obliged to leave his domain and mingle with other deities. He knows about Beomgyu only from the things Taehyun and Kai share from time to time – and with the knowledge that the horizon and the earth knows Beomgyu to quite a personal degree, Yeonjun can understand why they are always bringing the sun to their conversations.

“Intense?” Yeonjun suggests.

“I was going to say annoying, but intense works better.” Soobin laughs, hiding it behind the sleeve of his white and silver robes. “He’s an amazing friend, don’t misunderstand me. But I am not quite sure that we would work as lovers. Our ways of showing our feelings are way too different.”

That’s all Yeonjun needs to hear to let the waves of hope whisk him away from the shore and lead him deep into the strange feelings he’s been nurturing over the moon. Soobin is not betrothed, Soobin doesn’t belong to anyone but himself, Soobin who only goes after Yeonjun when night falls. Maybe it could be a naive thought coming from a deity that never felt love this deep for someone before, but Yeonjun wonders if Soobin feels the same as him.

How beautiful and painful would it be if the moon loved the sea back.

“I’m sorry,” Yeonjun mumbles, playing with the water moving around his hands.

Soobin frowns slightly. “What are you sorry for, Yeonjun?”

“It must be bothersome to have the whole world carrying along the misconception of you and Beomgyu being something when you’re nothing but friends,” he replies, soft and playful as he looks at Soobin with a smile on his face. Soobin smiles back, still fidgeting with his scepter as he usually does whenever Yeonjun acts playful around him.

“Honestly, I never gave it much thought,” Soobin mumbles, voice no louder than a whisper floating in the air. “Not until I fell for–”

“Oh, it’s almost daytime,” Yeonjun announces out loud, not noticing that Soobin was still speaking. The clarity of daytime slowly breaks the darkness in the sky, colors showing up in a canvas that was completely dark once. “I suppose you have to go now.”

Soobin hums, something that feels more out of obligation than actual desire to part ways.

Yeonjun looks back at Soobin, both a little crestfallen over the knowledge that they will have to part ways for now until nighttime comes again. This is perhaps the part that Yeonjun hates the most when it comes to his nightly encounters with Soobin. Bidding farewell feels like spikes clutching around his heart, even if he knows that he’ll see Soobin later again. Whenever their time reaches an end, Yeonjun can’t help but wonder how a life where he could see Soobin whenever he wants would be like, to touch the moon and spend all the time available with him.

It’s a silly thought, but he can’t help the envy that floods through him when he thinks about how Beomgyu is able to see the moon deity whenever he wants.

“Before you go, I have something for you.” Yeonjun says, before Soobin can get up from the place he sits at the whole night and go back to who knows where he stays during daytime. “A gift.”

“A gift?” Soobin’s eyes sparkle with curiosity, looking back at Yeonjun with a hundred stars inside them. “But I have nothing with me to offer you in return.”

“Gifts are not meant to be given with the expectation of getting something in return,” he says, pondering if he should say what’s in his mind. “Your company is already more than I could ask for, Soobin.”

Any other time, this would be the perfect start of a confession followed by Yeonjun admitting what he’s been feeling for the moon deity. But this is still not the proper time, and he knows that deep down as he gnaws at his lower lip and holds back whatever is threatening to come out. He looks down at the big wave he’s sitting atop, gently reaching his hand inside the dark waters and bringing out the gift. It’s nothing big or opulent as the moon itself, but Yeonjun wants Soobin to take this with him – wants Soobin to think about him whenever he looks at it, wants Soobin to miss him enough to come back every night without fail.

“Yeonjun.” Soobin breathes out in wonder as the sea deity creates another wave to take the gift closer to the moon.

“It’s a conch shell,” he explains as Soobin takes it, gentle hands cradling the shell as if it was something fragile. “If you ever miss the ocean when daytime comes, you can put it close to your ear and hear the sound of the waves crashing at the shore.”

“It’s beautiful, Yeonjun.” Soobin says, slightly breathless as he looks at the dark conch shell with some speckles of silver. Yeonjun found it deep in the sea, left behind by another creature that found a better home, and immediately he knew that he had to give it to Soobin. A shell that looks like the moon and comes from the sea, a fitting gift. “I don’t even know what to say to you.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Soobin.” Yeonjun chuckles, suddenly shy as he feels the moon looking at him with something that he cannot put a name on. Gratefulness, perhaps? Yeonjun has never before regretted not living among the other deities to recognize feelings as easily as anyone else can. “You must love the sea a lot to keep coming back every night, and the sea creatures are glad to have your shine upon us. Take it as gratitude for everything that you do for us.”

“I do love the sea, like I never loved anything before in my existence,” he confesses in a sultry tone, bringing the shell close to where his heart is supposed to be beating, eyes never once straying away from Yeonjun’s face as he gets up from his spot. “Thank you, Yeonjun. I’ll cherish this the most from now on.”

“You better get going,” Yeonjun coughs, feeling shyer at the intense way Soobin is looking at him while keeping the shell close to his chest. “Beomgyu must be waiting for you.”

“Maybe he is, but I am pretty sure that he can wait for a little bit,” Soobin wiggles his eyebrows, before bringing the shell close to his lips and letting it touch the same way a gentle kiss would feel against skin. “Farewell, Yeonjun.”

“Farewell, Soobin.” 

Yeonjun pushes out through gritted teeth, still thinking about that single brush of lips against the shell and how he would selfishly destroy this whole realm to be the one receiving that kiss. He lets the wave crash back into the sea, allowing it to take him down literally and metaphorically, swallowed by his domain and his feelings for the moon.

— ☾ ◐ ◯ ◑ ☽ —

Full moon comes in the shape of Soobin almost filling the whole sky as the tides try to reach him. All Yeonjun sees when he breaches the surface is the moon, in all his powerful glory, silvery and full, impossible to miss out as he excitedly waltzes in the sky to the sound of the harsh waves crashing back to the sea. It’s a sight to behold, one that Yeonjun takes a few minutes to contemplate before the moon notices him and makes another wave appear, bringing the sea deity close to him.

“I learned something new about you!” Soobin says excitedly as a greeting, waltzing to the closest side of the moon to Yeonjun, clapping his hands before sitting down majestically, scepter appearing on thin air in his hand.

Yeonjun doesn’t remember ever seeing Soobin this excited before. Sure, the moon has his peaks of happiness whenever Yeonjun speaks about the sea creatures, or when Soobin shares good memories of his past, but never to this extent. Soobin is beaming with moonlight, shining so bright that Yeonjun feels light-headed to the point of fainting. He looks beautiful, knocking the air out of the sea deity’s lungs and filling it with moonlight and the scent of the night flowers that only bloom when Soobin is around.

There was never a chance for him to deny his deep feelings for Soobin, but lately it has been more than he could handle. Yeonjun feels like a star about to combust whenever he’s around Soobin. He wants to let all the thoughts devouring his mind roam free from his mouth, to linger around Soobin’s ears until the moon finally has the knowledge of how he’s holding the sea’s heart in the palm of his pale and gentle hands.

“Hello to you too, Soobin.” Yeonjun chuckles, amused by the almost childlike enthusiasm in the moon’s face. “I see you are quite excited tonight.”

“Full moon,” he says sheepishly, looking down at the waves. They’re strong, but not as strong as when the new moon happens. “Believe me when I say I’m holding back my powers as much as I can to not scare your babies.”

“I appreciate it,” Yeonjun hums, in a mix of shyness and gratitude. The sea creatures have come to understand and no longer panic whenever Soobin controls the tides – it probably has something to do with the fact that their ruler has feelings for the moon, but none speaks about that directly to him. “And holding back your powers means you get more excited, I suppose.”

“Not at all!” Soobin shakes his head, leaning forward until he’s all Yeonjun can see. Full moon makes Soobin shiny, makes Yeonjun want to be soaked in moonlight for eternity. “I’m excited because of what Beomgyu told me.”

“And what did he tell you?” Yeonjun asks, slightly breathless.

“That you have a different form. One that only the underwater creatures can see!” Soobin replies, eyes glimmering like a million stars are inside them, blinking back at Yeonjun with curiosity and anticipation.

Yeonjun takes a minute to unpack the words and the reason for such excitement. His form, the one he uses when he’s underwater and that he never allows any other deities to see – with a few exceptions such as Taehyun, and Kai that once saw it accidentally. He wonders how Beomgyu knew about it when the few times they crossed paths, Yeonjun always used his human-like form. More intriguing is how he chose to talk about such a thing with Soobin, who probably didn’t even know that some deities take other shapes in their rightful domains.

He can’t help but question why Soobin is so excited over this when his underwater form could be leaned more into the scary deep water creatures that everyone fears rather than the adorable fishes that Soobin is used to seeing lately. Yeonjun is stuck in an internal battle of allowing Soobin to see it or keeping that a secret because he’s self-conscious.

What if Soobin finds him disgusting and frightening? Yeonjun isn’t ready to have his bubble of happiness burst this soon. Especially now that he knows that there’s a possibility of things happening between them after knowing that Soobin doesn’t belong to Beomgyu.

“Is that really true?” Soobin asks, not even a second after dropping such information on Yeonjun’s lap. “I know I shouldn’t believe in Beomgyu because once he told me that he couldn’t walk in the realm of the living, but we all know that is a lie. I think he was trying to make me feel better for the fact that I cannot leave this place, but anyways!”

“You’re very talkative tonight,” Yeonjun points out, delighted.

“Oh.” Soobin leans away, suddenly self-aware of his proximity and blabbering. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize that I was talking so much. I… I’m sor–”

“Why are you apologizing?” Yeonjun frowns, cutting him off before Soobin can utter another word. “I like your voice, Soobin. I like hearing you talk, no matter what you are talking about. It’s just that… It’s nice to see you this excited over something. I don’t think I ever saw you like this before, except when I told you about the sea monsters.”

“They are fascinating! How else was I supposed to react?”

Any of his self-deprecating thoughts of Soobin finding him disgusting disappears in thin air. Of course the moon would take interest in sea monsters and the things that people usually pretend that do not exist. Of course he would be all excited over knowing about his other form and the possibility of Yeonjun looking like the sea monsters he describes with all the details he can – an exquisite beauty that people usually cannot see past the initial fear.

It makes him wonder how Soobin would react once he sees him in the sea dragon form he uses under the surface.

“So I deem that you think that my other form is equally fascinating,” Yeonjun suggests, trying to get a hold of Soobin’s thoughts that he cannot read.

As bright and clean as the full moon looks, Soobin is nothing but impossible to read underneath what he shows, be it on his face or his eyes. Yeonjun only knows what Soobin allows him to see, and at this point it’s proving to not be enough. Yeonjun knows for once that Soobin enjoys his company and talking to him all night, knows that Soobin enjoys the small gifts and the stories about the sea creatures, knows that Soobin doesn’t feel as lonely as he used to before Yeonjun came to him. But it’s not enough.

It’s not enough because Yeonjun wants to know if Soobin feels the same as him, if Soobin looks forward to nighttime to see him, if Soobin is holding back a confession that is always hanging on the tip of his tongue like Yeonjun has been doing for the longest of times.

“I never saw it, and Beomgyu didn't tell me much because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by talking about the form you use when you’re underwater since there’s probably a reason why other deities don’t see you like that when you cross paths with them.” Soobin keeps babbling, gesticulating with his hands in large and big motions, a pout appearing on his lips from time to time as he speaks. When he looks at Yeonjun, it’s impossible to not see the honesty pouring out of his eyes. “But if it’s something about you, I know for sure that it will always be fascinating to me.”

Yeonjun blushes, lilac spreading through his cheeks as he looks away, embarrassedly scratching his neck. “I– Uhh– Thanks, Soobin.”

“You’re blushing,” he points out, surprised as he leans a little to take a better look at the soft lilac in Yeonjun’s cheeks. With the full moon glow blasting on them, there is no way to hide his flush and embarrassment from Soobin’s curious eyes. “I think I never saw you blushing before.”

“‘m not blushing,” Yeonjun mutters, covering his face with wet hands to prevent Soobin from looking at him and making him blush harder. “Stop looking at me.”

“Who else am I supposed to look at if not at you, Yeonjun?” Soobin teases, the smile in his voice impossible to ignore.

Ever since the conversation about his relationship with Beomgyu and the knowledge that Soobin is single and maintaining a friendship-only relationship with the one he was supposed to be married to, a new side of him has suddenly bloomed. A teasing one that Yeonjun never thought Soobin could have, one that has been proving to be a test of strength for him.

“Well, I don’t know,” he whines, keeping his face covered until he finally feels his cheeks slowly ceasing the warm feeling. “How come you got to know about my other form? I doubt Beomgyu simply brought it up, even if that is not impossible to happen.”

“Well…”

It’s Soobin’s time to feel embarrassed, looking at his scepter – something that he does whenever he’s feeling that way, a little habit that Yeonjun picked up after so many nights spent together.

“He knows that we have been spending all night talking, and he saw the shell you gifted me because I’m always keeping it close to me when we’re not together. We briefly talked about you, and he brought that up,” he explains, trying to sound nonchalant but failing at it.

“I see.”

Silence falls, like the waves crashing back before new ones come claim their place as Soobin’s emotions take hold of the tides. There are times when silence comes and it isn’t unwelcomed or uncomfortable, they soak in the feeling of each other’s presence only. Tonight, the silence feels heavy instead of light and pleasing. There are so many things left unsaid between them, a conversation that it’s long overdue but none of them have mustered the courage to initiate it.

Yeonjun wonders if this is what it will feel like when he finally allows words of love to come out of his lips. Perhaps, some things are better left unsaid for the sake of the silence remaining light and pleasing between them.

“Would you let me see you?” Soobin asks in a low tone, sounding almost unsure.

“You want to see me?” Yeonjun swallows dry, pretending to not understand what Soobin really means. “But you see me every night, Soobin.”

“Your other form,” he says with an eye-roll, smiling right next to show that he means the act on an affectionate side rather than annoyance. It doesn’t last for long, overshadowed by uneasiness again as he asks, “Would you allow me to see?”

How could Yeonjun deny him such a thing when Soobin never directly asked for something before, never demanded things from him nor pressured Yeonjun to speak or show anything that he didn’t want to. Yeonjun may have been a goner for Soobin since the first night they saw each other, but Soobin has never once made him feel uncomfortable with anything.

If he wishes to see his other form, Yeonjun will gladly show him.

“If you really want to see it, I will show you.” Yeonjun sighs, looking at Soobin with a playful gleam in his eyes. “But with one condition.”

“What is it?” Soobin asks, a slight crease showing in his forehead. “I will do anything!”

It’s a dangerous choice, the one that Yeonjun is willing to make right now. He could take back his words and just show his underwater form to Soobin, spend the rest of the night together talking about it. But Yeonjun wants to be sure of something before showing him such an important part of himself. He takes one deep breath and allows the high tides around him to be the last sound he hears before uttering what he hopes will not be something that he’ll regret in a few minutes.

“A kiss.”

Soobin holds his breath, repeating in a more confused tone. “A kiss?”

“Yes.” Yeonjun nods, trapping his lower lip against his teeth. “That’s my condition.”

“A kiss.” Soobin repeats, shifting in place as he looks visibly unsure of it. “Yeonjun, I–”

It was a mistake, after all. Yeonjun doesn’t even need another minute to completely regret this reckless choice that led to Soobin feeling uncomfortable in front of him.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Yeonjun stresses out, hands running through his midnight blue hair, almost bumping against his horns in the process. “I was just joking. Fuck, what was I even thinking saying this to you? I can show you the form whenever you want, forget about what I said. It was stupid anyways, and–”

“A kiss. That’s all you want?” Soobin interrupts him, any semblance of unsureness replaced by seriousness.

“Soobin, you don’t have to–”

“But I want to,” he states, no gaps for Yeonjun to keep checking if he is no longer uncomfortable with his not-so-jokingly request. “Tell me where you want me to kiss you.”

Yeonjun is too taken aback by the sudden shift in Soobin’s reaction to notice the moon deity slowly approaching until he’s almost at arm’s length, his opulence almost breathtaking seeing from this up-close. As much time as they spent together, they never stayed this close to each other – Yeonjun is always on the sea, and Soobin is always on the moon; close but never close enough. And now that they’re close, Yeonjun feels like fainting in Soobin’s arms as the daytime approaches.

“Wherever you want,” he breathes out, head spinning and heart pounding faster. “I don’t care. You don’t even have to actually kiss me. I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do such in order to see my other form, and–”

“Yeonjun, can you please shut up for a second?” Soobin admonishes, huffing light-heartedly. Yeonjun shuts his mouth almost instantaneously, completely frozen in place. “You’re not forcing me to do this, I’ll kiss you because I want to.”

Soobin wants to kiss him, willingly and out of his own desire to do so. Yeonjun doesn’t have the time to think too much about what all of this means, the strong scent of queen of the night clogging his nostrils and bright moonlight coming from Soobin alone making him close his eyes.

“Stay still.” Soobin orders, voice no louder than a whisper. The only thing that Yeonjun can actually hear, all the other sounds from the world turning into white noise. “Don’t move a single muscle.”

“I won’t.”

Time works differently in that moment, at least in Yeonjun’s point of view. A second turns into an hour, every move feels like time freezes for an uncountable time until it restarts again, creating a loop that Yeonjun finds himself stuck into. Soobin feels so close, but never close enough for Yeonjun to feel him. Still, he obeys to the order, palms stretched out above his legs, chest heaving in anticipation, eyes closed and lips parted in waiting, looking like a statue about to receive the blessings of gaining life thanks to the moon.

Hands cradle his face, cold and gentle as it holds Yeonjun like he’s made of porcelain rather than flesh. The scent of queen of the night gets stronger until it almost feels like he will choke from it, the weight of Soobin’s body against his and the fabric of his robes brushing against his hands. And then, shy lips brushing against his.

Yeonjun feels like water in Soobin’s hands, as the moon kisses him and holds him so tight in order for him to not slip through fingers from the sensation of having Soobin this close, claiming his lips in a tender kiss. Yeonjun goes against his orders in a second, arms circling around Soobin’s waist and keeping him close, kissing back like a starved man that was given the chance to have a final meal before facing imminent death.

The kiss creates a crack in time and space, a place made only by the moon and the sea finally touching – that is where anyone would find Yeonjun and Soobin in that moment. A place that no one can go except for them. Soobin moves his hands until it’s entangled in Yeonjun’s hair, kissing him eagerly as the shyness and unsureness from before dissipates between them.

Yeonjun kisses him with his whole body, like the high waves that crash around, desperate and insistent; while Soobin reciprocates in a more tender tone, like moonlight shining down on those waves in the hope of calming it down, but equally desperate. It almost feels like they’re both in the same harmony, conveying their feelings in a kiss that was not meant to last this long nor mean this much. At least not for Soobin, who only agreed to do it because he wants to see Yeonjun’s other form.

Soobin is the one that stops the kiss, pulling away almost against his desires. Yeonjun tries to chase after him, dazed by a kiss that he never thought he would get to have in his existence. His arms are still around Soobin’s body, preventing him from slipping away as he soaks in the moonlight shining directly and only at him. Soobin seems to be equally dazed, eyes glimmering and lips in a shade of pink that makes him mesmerizing in Yeonjun’s eyes.

He wants to kiss Soobin again, over and over until his lips are always in that shade of pink and his eyes are filled with the same emotion they convey right now. An emotion that could easily be mistaken with love, if Yeonjun wishes to be delusional.

Yeonjun sighs, drunkenly. “That was–”

“I have to go,” Soobin whispers, eyes widening as if broken from a spell. He retracts his hands and pushes Yeonjun’s arms away from his waist, scurrying out of their little crack, abruptly forcing them to go back to a reality that Yeonjun isn’t ready to face yet. “Shit, I can’t believe I did this.”

“Soobin?” Yeonjun calls, still a little out of it. The lack of weight against him and not around his arms too soon for his mind to follow along with how fast the world seems to be spinning. “Soobin!”

“I’m sorry, Yeonjun. I shouldn’t have–” Soobin starts, but cuts himself off as he floats back to the moon. He takes one look at Yeonjun, eyes apologetic as he mutters, “I’m so sorry.”

Soobin is gone before Yeonjun can properly understand everything that happened in that short period of time, unable to prevent the moon from leaving so soon. Daytime is still far from reaching the realm of the living, but Soobin is already gone like he was never there in the first place. There’s no more moonlight or a full moon staring back at Yeonjun, clouds covering the deity and swallowing everything in darkness. 

Time passes faster than he can comprehend, mind and body stuck in that crack where Soobin was in his arms, kissing him passionately and making Yeonjun believe in the possibility of his feelings being reciprocated.

The high tides never cease, gigantic waves still trying to reach a moon that is no longer in sight. Yeonjun remains frozen in the same position Soobin left him, even when Beomgyu breaks through the veil of night and brings the sun back, all waves ceasing their insistent search and going back to swaying lazily and calmly on the surface.

Yeonjun lets his body go down until he reaches the bottom of the ocean, hidden in the darkness and wondering what exactly he did wrong for Soobin to react in such a way.

— ☾ ◐ ◯ ◑ ☽ —

Yeonjun floats above the surface, arms and legs open like a starfish, staring at the evening sky. The sun lazily makes its descent on the horizon, the skies filled with colors that make it prettier than before. Pinks, oranges, lilacs, blues and new colors that mix between that he doesn’t know the name of. Yeonjun stares and stares, dreading the end of another day when he usually would be so happy about the moon coming to grace this realm with its silvery glow.

It’s been six nights since the kiss incident, a new phase coming to the world and with it, the lack of Soobin sitting on the moon and looking down at him in waiting, moonlight blasting over the sea as if calling for Yeonjun.

On the first night, he thought it was only a coincidence. Soobin would still be a little embarrassed after the kiss and decided to give it at least one night of space between them. On the second night, Yeonjun started to think that maybe it wasn’t that much of a coincidence the lack of the moon showing up, but he tried to remain positive as he watched the sun claim this realm once again, all by himself. By the fourth night, there was not an ounce of doubt that Soobin was avoiding him. The moon itself still showed up in the sky, but Soobin was nowhere to be seen, and Yeonjun had officially spiraled in his own misery.

How could a kiss do this much damage?

Tonight, he knows that Soobin won’t show up again, so he no longer looks forward to stare at the sky and see another empty moon. Still, Yeonjun waits by the surface, all the blame to be put in that small and stupid sliver of hope that tries so hard to maintain itself alight. He won’t come again, Yeonjun tells himself but stays floating above the water and watching as the sky slowly turns dark.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Taehyun says in lieu of greeting, walking above the water with his lantern hanging by a thread in his waist.

The grayness of the horizon deity makes a striking contrast to all the colors around them, and that’s what makes Taehyun so bewitching. A monotone deity amidst a colorful canvas, impossible to not look at him with his gray outfit and hair, his big eyes that look full even if the gray in it makes it look mostly empty. With his scepter in one hand and the lantern dangling in his waist, Yeonjun almost forgets that this is the time the horizon comes to help the boats sail back to the land as night approaches.

“Hello, Taehyun,” he greets, not moving a single muscle as Taehyun stops in front of him. “I didn’t even see you coming.”

“I could tell.” Taehyun snorts, leaning against his scepter, looking down at Yeonjun with something unreadable inside those gray eyes full of knowledge and secrets. “How have you been, Yeonjun?”

That’s a question that he has no proper answer for. Honestly speaking, Yeonjun doesn’t actually known he how’s feeling, mostly because he’s been pretending to ignore the way his heart aches whenever Soobin isn’t waiting for him when nighttime comes, or the guilty that lays heavy on his back when he remembers Soobin’s face after the kiss – or the sadness over the possibility of never seeing the moon again because of his selfish desire to receive a kiss that maybe wasn’t meant to ever happen. Yeonjun is feeling everything and nothing at the same time, hyper-aware of his emotions and numb to all of them.

“Same, same.” Yeonjun settles for, shrugging off as he stands up from his lying position.

Taehyun doesn’t seem to buy the nonchalant answer, eyes slightly narrowed as he tries once again to urge a more eloquent answer from the sea deity. “Anything else you feel like telling me?”

“I don’t think so,” he replies, looking down at the colors from the sky reflecting in the water. “Why do you ask?”

“Maybe because it’s been six days and there’s no sight of the moon deity anywhere,” Taehyun says, aiming for the same nonchalance that Yeonjun’s been using.

Hearing Soobin’s title is enough to make his heart clench inside his chest, painfully aware of the missing presence of the deity that used to be always there waiting in the moon. As it seems, he wasn’t the only one that noticed the absence of the moon deity. And if Taehyun noticed, you can be sure that Kai had noticed too, which will lead to Beomgyu getting in business and Yeonjun doesn’t even want to think about the possibility of Beomgyu having to bring Soobin back by the ear and force them to fix a mess that he created out of a selfish impulse.

Yeonjun gnaws at his lower lip. “And why would I know anything about that?”

“Because a little bird told me that you have been quite acquainted with the moon in the past months,” he says, a hint of playfulness in his tone that would make Yeonjun feel embarrassed if he wasn’t so dull and miserable whenever he talked about Soobin.

“I suppose your ‘little bird’ goes by the name of Beomgyu, right?” Yeonjun sighs, defeated.

“Who knows.” Taehyun shrugs, fiddling with the lantern on his waist. “It could be Hyuka, he has quite a large number of contacts around this realm.”

To this day, Yeonjun gets amazed by how Taehyun always finds a way to insert Kai in conversations, especially when the earth deity is not around. It’s only a matter of time until they get together, Yeonjun knows that from the moment Taehyun casually told him about a deer centaur that he met while helping boats reach the land in safety during a storm. Yeonjun doesn’t blame him for falling in love that quickly, Kai is made to be loved by everyone that gets the chance to meet him. With his fluffy brown hair filled with flowers and leaves that the forest creatures put in it, and slightly blushed cheeks, added with a pair of innocent eyes that always look for the bright side of situations. It’s impossible to not fall for him.

Yeonjun can see why Taehyun feels the need to talk about Kai all the time, it’s one of the things that unconditional love does to someone – and if he wasn’t floating in misery, he too would be fainting ways to talk about Soobin, like a fool that fell for the moon.

“I would not look past that.” Yeonjun agrees, reminiscing how the earth seems to know all the other deities and creatures from their domain. One too many times, Yeonjun has caught the sea creatures talking about the tall, gentle deer centaur that helped them get back in the water when they got stranded in the sand. “It feels like even the creatures from my domain adore him too.”

“It’s impossible to not adore him,” Taehyun says matter-of-factly, adoration pouring out from each of his words. “That is why I’m fond of him from the beginning.”

“Fond is a very light word for what you feel for him.” he snorts, smiling for the first time that night as he watches Taehyun’s face shift to a mix of embarrassment and annoyance.

“Is fond a very light word for what you feel for the moon deity too?” Taehyun retorts without missing a beat, cheeks dusted in a darker tone of gray.

“Excuse me?” Yeonjun sputters, almost choking. “Where did you get that from?”

Sure, Yeonjun has never been the best at hiding his emotions or his strong opinions whenever he was forced to attend the solstices meetings, but he thought he was doing a good job at keeping his feelings for the moon hidden from prying eyes. He knows that Taehyun is never around when night falls, busy enjoying the few hours he has with Beomgyu and Kai. There is no way he’s been watching their interactions all this time, right?

“I’m not a fool, Yeonjun,” Tehyun replies, as if reading his mind. “I can see you coming to the surface and watching the empty skies every night. You’ve been doing that for the past few days without fail. Did you forget the horizon is my domain? I have been watching you and Soobin get closer better than anyone else.”

“That sounded a little creepy, for your information,” Yeonjun mutters, suddenly shy by the knowledge that Taehyun watched him blush and tried to get compliments about himself out of the moon. And worse, Taehyun probably watched them kiss, watched Soobin run away like a frightened animal, watched Yeonjun drown in self-pity. What a living nightmare he has found himself stuck into. “If you know the answer to your own question, why bother asking me?”

Taehyun wiggles his eyebrows, crouching down until he’s eye-level with Yeonjun. “For the pleasure of hearing you admit your feelings out loud for once.”

“Not happening anytime soon.” Yeonjun sticks his tongue out. “Besides, I’m sure you already know what happened.”

“As opposed to what you think, I’m not watching you both all the time,” he comments. “I do have my own things to do too.”

At least one thing to cross out of his embarrassing list. Taehyun wasn’t watching him get the best kiss of his existence and be dumped right after. Perhaps, luck has been on his side that night, for one thing rather than what he really wanted.

“Such as using the nighttime to be all lovey-dovey with your partners?” Yeonjun says suggestively, never missing the chance of watching Taehyun get slightly shy whenever the topic about him and his lovers gets into the conversation.

“Exactly.” Taehyun hums, the tip of his scepter nudging at Yeonjun’s forehead. “And if you were more honest with your feelings instead of keeping them to yourself, you would be doing the same thing with Soobin right now.”

Yeonjun thought about it, in one of his daydreams about Soobin reciprocating his feelings and things working out between them. He thought about nights spent together in each other’s arms, laughing and talking and enjoying every second they had together as if it was the last. He thought about taking Soobin to the depths of the ocean, to show him all the creatures that hide in the dark and how lovely they can be. He thought about reaching the sky and going back with Soobin during daytime, to see the place the moon goes when he’s not shining down at the realm of the living.

Now, those dreams seem as far out of reach as Soobin himself.

“It’s complicated,” he admits in a weak whisper, looking dejected.

“From what I’ve seen, there aren’t any complications,” Taehyun says, trying to sound optimistic.

“For starters, Soobin ran away after kissing me and vanished completely for reasons unknown to me.” Yeonjun chuckles, humorlessly. “That is why the moon isn’t around lately. I think I did something wrong, but I don’t even know what I did so I could blame myself better.”

“He kissed you?” Taehyun asks, surprise taking over his whole face. “Well, that must mean something, right? I’m pretty sure Soobin would not kiss you if he didn’t want to. You don’t have to blame yourself.”

“How can I not do it when the one I’m in love with simply vanishes after giving me what I have been yearning for forever?” Yeonjun asks incredulously. Soobin must have run away because of him, there is no other plausible reason for such a reaction after the way they kissed. “It feels like it’s my fault that he’s choosing to hide away rather than showing up. Soobin is a very kind soul. Maybe he doesn’t want to face me and tell me that it was all a mistake and–”

“You’re overreacting,” he interrupts Yeonjun, one single finger over those blabbering lips to silence him immediately. “Soobin is a very kind soul indeed, but he would never do something that he is not totally sure of.”

Yeonjun frowns. “Huh?”

“If he chose to kiss you, it’s because he had already thought that over,” Taehyun explains, as slow as he can so Yeonjun understands it without any gaps for him to overthink. “There’s an actual reason why Soobin doesn’t walk among humans like Beomgyu does.”

“I thought he was forbidden from doing it because he’s technically an extension of Beomgyu,” he says, remembering the story that Soobin told him in one of the earliest conversations they had. A time where his feelings for Soobin weren’t a leviathan ready to leave the dark bottom of the ocean and destroy the surface world.

“That is partially true. Soobin could not do that in the past, when he and Beomgyu were still supposed to belong to each other,” Taehyun says, playing with the small crystals in Yeonjun’s face chain, the lukewarm touch of the horizon receiving the last rays of the sun making Yeonjun shiver. “Soobin has been allowed to walk in the mortal realm from the moment they decided to be friends only.”

Too much information dropped all of the sudden on him. Yeonjun is having a hard time understanding it even with Taehyun patiently chewing it and giving it in a platter for him to swallow. Soobin could be walking the mortal realm all this time but still chose to be alone, sitting on the moon and only watching everyone interact? That makes no sense.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me right now,” Yeonjun says, still frowning and getting more confused by the minute.

“Oh Yeonjun, you are hopeless.” Taehyun chuckles affectionately, cradling Yeonjun’s face. “Soobin doesn’t walk in the mortal realm because he likes watching the sea during the day. He’s been watching you and your domain for the longests of times. That is why he chose to be friends with Beomgyu rather than love him like it was expected, he was fond of someone else since the moment he was created. The first thing the moon saw when it reached this realm wasn’t the sun, or the skies, or even the horizon. It was the sea.”

“Taehyun–”

“The first thing Soobin saw was you. And he’s been in love with you since then,” he continues, ignoring the call of his name coming from the deity in front of him. “Yeonjun’s heart has belonged to me and Hyuka for quite some time, but Soobin’s heart has been yours since the moment he was created.”

What was already too much information, turned out to be more than his brain can compute. Yeonjun is about to explode from the excess of information, his hyper-aware mind only able to catch bits and pieces of everything that Taehyun just dropped on him. Soobin could walk among mortals, Soobin never loved Yeonjun. Soobin likes watching the sea during the daytime. Soobin has given him his heart even before Yeonjun knew him.

Soobin’s heart belongs to him, and Yeonjun didn’t even know that until now.

“You’re joking.”

“Why would I joke about such a thing?” Taehyun pulls away, raising one eyebrow. He nudges Yeonjun’s forehead with his finger this time, flicking it next to get the sea’s attention back on him rather than inside his own mind. “If you haven’t been stuck in your loneliness deep underwater, you would know about the tale of the moon and the sea that the mortals have been telling nowadays.”

“Why did he run away then?” Yeonjun asks, slowly coming to terms with all the information Taehyun gave him.

“Because the same way you have a hard time with your feelings, Soobin has been going through it too,” Taehyun explains, leaning his chin atop his hands. “There is a reason why he never tried to approach you before that new moon, why he acts the way he does when he is around you, why he’s been longing for you and why he indulged in that kiss you shared.”

Yeonjun can’t totally comprehend what has been given to him, but one thing he’s sure of: that stupid, almost burnt out flicker of hope spread into a wildfire ready to burn anything that crosses his path. All his dreams with Soobin in it replay in his head, all the conversations and interactions seen in a new light. Soobin always kept the shell that he gifted him nearby, Soobin always excited to hear the stories and give Yeonjun compliments when the sea deity asks for it, Soobin finding him fascinating and wanting to see his other form. Soobin not hesitating for a second when Yeonjun asked for a kiss.

Soobin loving him back, perhaps in the same intensity that Yeonjun has been loving him since that first new moon.

“But I don’t understand,” he thinks out loud, clinging to all the scattered thoughts in his head. “Why stay away when we both have been longing for each other?”

“That is not something you have to ask me ,” Taehyun says. “You will only find your answer if you talk to Soobin.”

“I don’t know where he is.” Yeonjun sighs, fists splashing water as it hits the surface in frustration. “I don’t know if he is actually avoiding me or if something else happe–”

“He’s sleeping.”

A new voice says, loud and strong, carrying a powerful aura. Yeonjun almost cowers from the sound alone.

Behind Taehyun, Yeonjun can see that the sunset has reached its end, darkness swallowing the world and a weak moon plastered in the sky with no deity sitting atop it. Someone walks their way like a beacon of firelight in the night, red hair burning brightly along with the long robe made of sunlight, yellowish and blinding – nothing like the soft and gentle glow of the moonlight that Yeonjun missed dearly. The sun deity looks so out of place at that moment, walking above the sea during nighttime, a star that wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Beomgyu!” Taehyun says excitedly as he feels the sun’s hand on his shoulder, jolting up and throwing himself at his arms in a hug. Beomgyu smiles brightly, his glow seemingly tenfolding by having Taehyun in his arms, almost blinding Yeonjun in the process. “You’re earlier than expected.”

“Sunset is already over, Taehyunnie,” Beomgyu says, placing a kiss on top of Taehyun’s head. “I guess you have been quite distracted while chatting with Yeonjun.”

“I had to help him cross that pitiful bridge of longing and misunderstanding he was stuck in,” he says, keeping himself attached to Beomgyu like a moth attracted to the light. “I could not bear to see him stare at the empty moon for another night.”

Yeonjun wants to complain and ask them to stop talking as if he wasn’t there, but something about Beomgyu and Taehyun together in that way gives him the feeling that he’ll be invading their personal space by uttering a single word. He has never seen the sun and horizon together like this before, never one to snoop in his friends’ personal business – especially Taehyun’s love rendezvous with his lovers.

“I will remember to thank you more devotedly later,” Beomgyu says sultrily, nuzzling Taehyun’s cheeks and ripping a giggle from the horizon deity. Yeonjun feels like he’s watching something not meant for his eyes, and he’s almost glad to hear Beomgyu greeting him a second later, using a more friendly tone. “Yeonjun.”

“Beomgyu,” he greets back, slightly nodding in acknowledgement of the sun’s presence. Taehyun is no longer reachable to be the mediator between the two supposedly strangers, too busy hugging Beomgyu tight and hiding his face in the robe of sunlight. “I suppose you have been seeing Soobin every night.”

“Full moon takes a lot of his power, it’s not easy for him to control so many things at the same time. Especially powerful ones such as the tides and mortal women. When the third quarter and waning crescent comes, he uses that time to fall into slumber in order to restore his powers.” Beomgyu explains in a lazy tone, one hand around Taehyun’s waist and the other gesticulating equally lazily. “Besides, he’s been using his powers more than usual this month.”

“I’m sorry, I think…” Yeonjun mumbles, slightly intimidated by the sun this close.

“There is nothing to be sorry for, Yeonjunie!” Beomgyu laughs boisterously, looking at Yeonjun with gratitude in his bright eyes. “If anything, I have never seen Soobin happier before. He’s beaming even during daytime, almost as if he’s been creating his own light lately.”

“He has his own light,” he says, more to himself than for any of the others to listen. Beomgyu probably heard it, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a smile. “Just to be completely sure, Soobin is sleeping right now, and not ignoring me because of what happened between us, right?”

“Yep.” Beomgyu nods. “You just had the misfortune of kissing him on the last day of the waning crescent, Yeonjunie.”

Yeonjun’s eyes go as wide as saucers, squeaking as he says, “How do you know that I kissed him?”

“I’m his confidant, the same way he is mine,” he says with fondness, wiggling his eyebrows. “That reminds me, forgive me for talking about your other form with him. I had no idea that he didn’t know about that.”

“It’s chill,” Yeonjun brushes it off. “I suppose that I have to thank you for that.”

“Now, if you excuse us, we have a deer centaur to go visit.” Taehyun states abruptly, leaning away from Beomgyu’s chest but still keeping his arms around him. The sun beams at the sound of going after Kai. Taehyun looks at Yeonjun, just to make sure that he’s fine for now. “And don’t look so blue anymore, Yeonjun. The moon always comes back eventually, and I’m sure that Soobin will be visiting you soon.”

Yeonjun knows that, but he doesn’t want to wait anymore to see Soobin. Not when they have so much to talk about, not when he’s this close to faint for longing over someone that could’ve been his from the beginning.

“Enjoy your night,” he says politely. Taehyun is the first one to turn his back and walk away, light steps above the water but Yeonjun can see the excitement the other has to go back to the lands and find their other lover.

“We sure will,” Beomgyu says playfully. He takes one look at Taehyun’s moving figure, before turning back to Yeonjun and leaning down, whispering, “Just between us, the waning crescent marks the last phase before a new moon, it lasts only a day. Tonight is a waning crescent.”

“Thank you, Beomgyu.” Yeonjun says, genuinely thankful.

“Please, be patient with him. He is still getting the hang of his own feelings now that you two have finally talked,” he pleads, straightening up. “He really likes you, Yeonjunie.”

When Yeonjun spends another night all by himself watching a moonlightless moon with no sight of the moon deity around, he no longer feels that dreading and miserable feeling that has been chewing at his insides ever since Soobin vanished after their kiss. This time, he feels hope and a love that makes him feel like that night when they kissed – engulfed in the scent of queen of the night and with the feeling of Soobin’s cold hands on his face. Lips brushing against him, the sense of finally feeling complete.

“I really like him too,” Yeonjun utters, to no one this time even though that should’ve been his answer when Beomgyu said that Soobin likes him. He looks at the moon, smiling at the thought of his beloved sleeping in that moment. “You have no idea how much I like you, Soobin.”

— ☾ ◐ ◯ ◑ ☽ —

Nothing could have prepared him for what awaits when a new moon shines down on the mortal realm.

Beomgyu’s words have been hammering on his head ever since morning came once again, sunlight pouring endlessly on the ocean and lighting up all the corners for Yeonjun to see. Tonight, Soobin will probably come back with his powers restored and perhaps ready to swallow the whole world with the high tides. Yeonjun should be scared by that alone, but he feels jittery from the moment sunset starts to happen.

The waves are stronger than before by the time the sun has completely reached down the horizon, no longer in sight. Yeonjun feels like he’s back on that first night he met Soobin, strong waves around and that sense of powerlessness over his own domain coming back in full force – this time, Yeonjun welcomes it instead of trying to push it to a stop. From underwater, he can see the swaying reflection of the single sliver of moon, the rest of it engulfed by the darkness of the night. Yeonjun waits underwater, a nagging voice at the back of his head telling him that there is a small possibility of Soobin not showing up because of the same reasons he had been using to hurt himself.

Both Beomgyu and Taehyun had said that Soobin likes him, but what if Soobin has mixed feelings after the kiss?

Yeonjun has no time to drown in self-pity, something fastly breaches the surface and dives deep underwater, taking him out of his self-deprecating thoughts. He freezes in place, watching the approaching glowing figure swimming down until it gets close enough for Yeonjun to discern its face.

Soobin, in all his silvery glory, hair floating away from his face and white robes swinging with the tides. Compared to Beomgyu, he doesn’t look out of place amidst the darkness of the sea. Soobin looks like this is the place he can find home in, a place that could belong to him the same way the moon does. The sea seems overjoyed by the presence of the moon, the harsh waves slowly shifting to a gentler swaying as Soobin approaches Yeonjun.

“That’s what you look like!” Soobin says once he’s face to face with Yeonjun’s underwater form – the one he promised to show but never got the chance to.

The moon looks almost mesmerized as he stares at Yeonjun. His sea dragon shape is bigger and larger than his human form, with blue coral horns in his head and midnight blue scales over his body, twinkling in light blue and white when moonlight shines over it. Yeonjun never gave much thought to his image in his domain, the creatures compliment him and Kai once said that he was very pretty. Nothing compares to the anxiety of not knowing what Soobin thinks about him in this form.

Actually, Yeonjun is going through so many emotions at the same time that he feels like he’s been tossed and turned around by the high tides that Soobin is controlling right now.

“Soobin?”

“You’re beautiful, Yeonjun.” Soobin says, extending his hand until his soft palms are touching the horns atop his head. The largest of smiles resides on Soobin’s lips, eyes full-blown in an adoration that Yeonjun would expect to see in any other situation but never in Soobin looking at him. “The prettiest thing I have ever seen, I lov–”

“Soobin! How? What?” Yeonjun sputters, interrupting the moon mid-speaking. He can’t help it, not when he’s overwhelmed to the fullest. Soobin shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be touching him, shouldn’t be looking at him like this. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you too much, couldn’t wait a single minute,” he admits, eyes closing as he smiles harder. “Besides, you owe it to me to show me your other form.”

Yeonjun expected a lot from their first encounter after the kiss, most of them sorely negative things such as Soobin cutting ties with him or talking about how he could never love him the same way. Yeonjun expected a lot, but none of those things were Soobin smiling so beautifully at him while touching him so gently, like in that night when they kissed. He almost feels undeserved of it, unprepared to such tenderness when he had been preparing his heart for imminent pain.

Soobin never ceases to surprise him.

 “I’m…” Yeonjun starts, unable to continue. Words apparently decided to flee from his mouth and fail him completely, not a single coherent thought available in his head – he’s still fighting to settle in one emotion instead of thousands at the same time. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Oh, sorry. Did that bother you?” Soobin pulls away, eyes widened. Yeonjun has to hold back a whine from the sudden distance put between them. “How stupid of me. I was so excited to see you that I didn’t think beforehand how you would feel with me seeing your other form unannounced. Forgive me, Yeonjun.”

It’s so silly how Soobin is asking for forgiveness when he did absolutely nothing wrong. Yeonjun wants to pull him closer and never let go, to hope that this simple motion is enough to convey the things he is and has been feeling for the moon this whole time. The love, the longing, the devotion, the desperation, the need, and so many more battling against each other.

Yeonjun takes Soobin’s hand and pulls the moon with him as he swims to the surface. When his face reaches out of the water, it already morphs into his human form, Soobin by his side looking at him puzzledly. Yeonjun takes a better look at him, making sure that the Soobin by his side is indeed the real one and not something he made up because of how much he misses the moon.

The dimples look the same, the eyes are a little confused but holding a million stars like always, the same way his jet black hair has a few stars scattered there. His lips and cheeks are pale, missing the pink that Yeonjun found so beautiful when he saw it after their first kiss. His robes look the same too, almost translucent thanks to the wetness. Soobin is the same Yeonjun sees every night, and that’s enough to take his breath away.

“Soobin,” he calls, breathlessly.

“That’s me.” Soobin chuckles, tilting his head as he looks at Yeonjun. “Are you good?”

“You’re back,” Yeonjun breathes out, pulling Soobin into his arms and hugging him. It feels real, it feels exactly like when he had the other in his arms that night. Yeonjun leans his head on Soobin’s chest and breathes in the queen of the night aroma that comes from him. It’s like coming home after being stranded on a desert island for months. “You’re really here, right? Tell me I’m not making you up because of how much I miss you.”

Such a stupid question, he already knows that the Soobin in his arms is the real one, but he can’t help it. A whole week without Soobin was proving to be a curse, to watch the empty moon in the sky and have no idea of the moon deity’s whereabouts. He can’t help acting so stupidly, he can’t help pouring out the longing he felt this whole time without the only one he’s ever loved in his existence.

“You missed me?” Soobin asks, a tinge of surprise that feels out of place. How could Soobin even ask something like this when it’s so clear how much Yeonjun missed him.

“More than you could ever imagine,” he admits, pulling his face away so he can look at Soobin from up close. His heart beats so fast and loud that he knows Soobin is probably able to hear it from how close they are, but he doesn’t care. Yeonjun won’t miss the chance to confess his love tonight, he can’t wait another night to let Soobin know about everything he’s been keeping to himself. “You’re really here.”

“I’m here, Yeonjun,” Soobin reassures, leaning his chin on top of Yeonjun’s head, slightly nuzzling it. “I’m sorry for running away like that and not coming back the other night. I was too weak to come, and I couldn’t reach you to tell you what was about to happen to me. I’m deeply sorry.”

“You have no idea how I have suffered these past days without you, Soobin.” Yeonjun sniffs, the overwhelmness finally catching up to him in the shape of heavy waves around them, more powerful than when Soobin controls them. “I thought– I thought you were avoiding me because of the kiss.”

It sounds strange to talk about the kiss like this, but Yeonjun knows that he cannot postpone it for much longer. He can’t let this turn into a secret, something not meant to be spoken out loud and brushed it off until it becomes a memory that will make him question if his feelings were even real in the first place.

“Never!” Soobin says hastily, hands around Yeonjun’s shoulders as he pushes the sea away to look at him with widened eyes. It goes from desperation to shyness as he eases the grip on Yeonjun. “I… I could never do that to you. I mean, avoid you because of that. ”

Yeonjun knows that they should probably talk more about the kiss and the implicit meanings behind that single reckless choice of him. Maybe, this is enough. Soobin doesn’t look like he regrets it and that’s more than Yeonjun could have asked for. The kiss is the least of his priorities right now, but it’s nice to have something crossed out of his short list.

“Soobin, never leave me again like that,” he pleads, the grip around Soobin’s waist tightening for a moment. “I beg you.”

“Oh, Yeonjun,” Soobin sighs wetly, holding Yeonjun’s face as he looks deep into his eyes, both watering. “I won’t, and please believe me when I say this. I will never disappear again without telling you.”

It’s more than enough for him. A promise that Soobin won’t disappear again, that whatever they have right now won’t turn into forgotten memories with time, that Soobin won’t push him away like Yeonjun has been thinking would eventually happen when he comes back. Yeonjun feels relief wash over his body, almost turning into water between Soobin’s hold.

“I was so worried,” Yeonjun mumbles. “I thought you hated me.”

“Hate you?” Soobin gasps, blinking back at him. “Who in this realm could ever hate you, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun looks away in embarrassment. “You ran away so fast after kissing me, and I thought–”

“I’m really sorry for that. I was…” Soobin swallows, cheeks slowly gaining a very faint pink that makes him look adorable. “Embarrassed, to make it simple.”

“Embarrassed?” Yeonjun repeats, eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

An extended moment of silence falls between them, only the waves crashing back to the surface as background sound. Yeonjun feels weird, not sure exactly why his skin is itching and his heart feels like it’s about to crawl up his throat and leave through his lips. Soobin keeps holding his face gently but desperately, lips shut tight as he looks thoughtful, until a deep exhale comes out and he snorts, leaving a confused Yeonjun to stare back at him.

“Yeonjun, how can you be so stupid?” Soobin asks in disbelief. “I like you. I was embarrassed because I have liked you for so long and suddenly you are talking to me every night and sometimes your eyes and your words seem to give me openings to believe that you feel the same. You give me gifts and you compliment me whenever you can, but I thought that was only part of who you are and that you did that to anyone you are close to. But out of nowhere, you ask for a kiss, even if it was a joke initially, and I foolishly fell for that because I thought that was my only chance to get something that I really wanted.”

Yeonjun’s eyes go wide, not in surprise because he partially knew about Soobin’s feelings beforehand, but nothing could’ve prepared him to hear a full confession coming after a long beat of silence. Yeonjun feels dizzy, thankful that Soobin is holding him or else he would start floating away, close to the moon hiding in the darkness of the night.

“Soobin–”

“I never wanted anything in this life as much as I want you,” Soobin continues, eyes pouring out the same desperation as his words, as if Yeonjun wouldn’t understand fully if he talked another way. “During my slumber, my dreams were filled with seawater and the sound of waves crashing against the shore, with the taste of your lips and the feeling of your horns on the palm of my hands, and your face chain touching my cheeks. Yeonjun, I want you so much that sometimes I don’t even know what to do with it.”

Yeonjun is breathless by the end of Soobin’s confession, lips half-open as he tries to force his heart to stop beating so hard to the point of breaking his ribcage. All he can utter in a dazed whisper is, “You want me too.”

“You just heard me say–” Soobin stops, blinking at Yeonjun with surprise. “Too?”

“Soobin, you say that I’m stupid but you are one too if you haven’t noticed how much I want you,” Yeonjun retorts, shaking his head fondly as the moon looks at him with eyes as wide as the full moon. “I’m in love with you, from that very first night we met during a new moon just like this one. I have been holding myself back because I thought you belonged to Beomgyu, and when you told me you didn’t, that is when I decided to act bolder. I gave you gifts in hopes that you would think about me if you weren’t yet, I blatantly asked for compliments because I wanted to know what you think of me. And when I asked for a kiss and you said yes, I don’t think I have enough words to describe what I felt at that moment.”

“I love you.” Soobin beats him up, hastily letting those three words out before Yeonjun can say something. “My heart never belonged to Beomgyu, and could never because from the very first time, it belonged to you. You didn’t know me until that new moon, but I have known you for all my existence, Yeonjun.”

“Would you forgive me for that? I wish we had met earlier, because I know that I would have fallen for you the same way I did that day,” Yeonjun confesses, putting his own hands above Soobin’s. “Allow me to make up for the lost time, Soobin.”

“There is no such thing as lost time, Yeonjun,” he says, smiling with his eyes and allowing Yeonjun to see his adorable dimples, the ones that look like the pits he can see in the moon. “This is the right time and the right moment. I do not care about the past. My heart has never stopped being yours, and will not cease to do it now either.”

“I love you so much.” Yeonjun sighs, feeling so happy that he can barely hold himself back. If one of those high waves came his way and swallowed him whole, he wouldn’t even mind from how happy he feels at having his feelings for Soobin being accepted and reciprocated. “I cannot bring myself to say any other words because nothing seems to suffice for what I am feeling.”

“If words are not enough, then show me your feelings by kissing me again.” Soobin says, hands snaking away from his face to find home in Yeonjun’s nape. “Please, I have been dreaming so much about it that I want to make sure that our first kiss was not something my mind made up.”

“Soobin, I will kiss you a hundred times and more if you let me,” he promises, his own hands finding their place in Soobin’s waist, exactly where they belonged.

Their faces move closer until all Yeonjun can smell is queen of the night mingled with seawater, a combination that he never thought would work but fits perfectly as their lips connect in a soft kiss. He knew that kissing Soobin again would feel the same way as the first time, but the surge of emotions gave a new tone to it because of the knowledge of Soobin’s feelings added with the longing from the past days. It’s sweet and filled with a shared desire, a harmony that makes the high tides calm down and the moon to shine brightly even if it’s a new moon.

Yeonjun tilts his head to kiss Soobin deeper, tongue prodding at his open lips, dipping inside and leaving the moon gasping softly in his arms. Hands fist at his hair, lightly pulling and slightly bumping at his horns as their tongues meet eagerly. Yeonjun discovers new crevices and spaces that he hasn’t had the chance the first time, along with rediscovering the ones he already mapped that night. It doesn’t feel new to him, it feels like learning again something that he thought he had forgotten but hasn't. Kissing Soobin is like coming home deep underwater, in his favorite form and engulfed by the moonlight that comforts him.

Tonight, the ocean tides are stronger than it ever happened in any other new moon, the moonlight is casting down all over the sea and shining every spot that it can reach. In the middle of it all, Yeonjun and Soobin remain in each other’s embrace until the sun peeks through the sky and demands to swallow the night. 

When that happens, the moon deity and the sea deity part ways with heavy hearts but with the certainty that when nighttime arrives, Yeonjun will be waiting for Soobin with his arms wide open.