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Lityerses had never before felt this determined to do something.
Apollo leaned into his side, head resting on his chest as he fell into a light, reluctant sleep. The sun god had insisted that he needed nothing from Lit besides just being there, but there was no way Lit would just accept that. He had to make today perfect. He wanted to. He just—
It was their first anniversary.
And Lityerses…he’d never felt this way for anyone before. He’d never wanted to hold someone in his arms and kiss them to the ends of the earth and whisper every wonderful thing about them into their ear. He’d never—he’d never cared for anyone the way he did for the golden-haired god currently curled up against his chest. And that was so insanely strange because usually, Lit couldn't stand anyone touching him, much less showing physical affection himself. Zoe and Anchurus would have killed him for falling for an Olympian god, especially after what happened with Pollo's younger brother...
Lityerses shuddered. There wasn't a lot of things that could scare him, but the thought of his older siblings' reactions to his current situation was probably second place on his short list. Third might have been the way the heart that Lit hadn't even been sure he'd still had melted into warm, helpless mush every time—well, Apollo. It left him defenseless and completely caught off-guard. He let out a soft groan, careful to not accidentally wake up the sun god. He was so screwed. So incredibly head over heels that the whole concept wouldn’t have even been fathomable back in ancient days. Not for him. And yet, here it was, happening for him.
He loved Apollo in a way that would thrill a poet and terrify a therapist.
The clock on the wall ticked on, as if the Waystation was reminding him that time was running out. Four hours, and it would be sunset. He really needed to move if he would get any of what he'd planned with Leo done.
Carefully, he extracted himself from the god's arms, his traitorous heart twisting slightly when Apollo let out a soft whine at the loss of Lit. Touch-starved idiot. Sighing, he found the most comfortable pillow he saw, giving it to Apollo in place of himself, watching with a growing smile as he held onto the thing like it was a giant teddy-bear, cheek squished against the silky cover.
Cute, he thought fondly.
Before he could even process the fact that he of all people just thought that, a familiar, ever-annoying voice sprung out from the darkness. "Are you going to keep looking at Sunny with hearts in your eyes or are you actually going to help out?" Leo Valdez stood in the threshold of the path to the kitchen, eyebrow raised expectantly but grinning like he was watching his favorite late-night romcom.
Lit rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss to Apollo's curls. "I'm coming, Valdez. And I do not have 'hearts in my eyes'."
"Whatever helps you get those three hours of sleep, hermano." Leo stepped out of the way so Lit could walk into the kitchen, where Hemithea and Josephine, and Calypso, were already waiting. Closing the door gently, he turned back to look at him with a slightly more serious expression (or whatever the equivalent of seriousness was for Leo). "Now, decorations depend solely on the area. Where's the action happening?"
Calypso nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, then. You could do the kitchen, honestly, but Emmie would probably hate that. Bedroom's a big no."
"I don't know," Leo said with a muffled snicker. "Maybe he'd be into that."
Lit flushed, fire burning up his neck and into his face. He glared at his brother, who only had the audacity to raise his hands in surrender with the most absurdly innocent expression he could muster. "Oh my gods," Lit groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"Ahah, yeah, no." Emmie folded her arms. "No bedroom, at least not with the door closed. Ever."
"Em—!" Lit spluttered helplessly. "That's not even—? We w-wouldn't—ugh—I don't even know where you're getting this from."
Cal snorted, like she knew something he didn't. "Sure, darling. Anyways, the living room might be nice? "
Jo shook her head. "I'm pretty sure Britomartis just set up some fresh traps in there, and I think the two of you would prefer not getting a chainsaw to the face on your anniversary." A slight pause. "Though, that is exactly what he will be getting if he does anything to—"
"Mother!" Lit hissed with a wince. "He won't hurt me. He wouldn't. And, yeah, no chainsaws would be appreciated."
"Ignore your mother," Emmie said, laughing softly when Jo shot her a look. "She's just being her overly protective self for no reason. We, yes, we"—she side-eyed her wife—"know Apollo would never purposely do anything to harm you."
"I'm running out of ideas, though, guys." Leo shook his head, his chocolatey curls bouncing with the movement. "There's not really much we could do in the Waystation."
Tentatively, Lit presented his own idea—one his brother had yet to suggest. "I was thinking...How about the rooftop? Not the gardens, I mean the actual roof."
The widest grin Lityerses had ever seen broke out on Calypso's face, the titaness' eyes lighting up with pure glee. "That is so cute. You can watch the sunset together! Sweet and classic. I love it."
Lit flushed, scratching the back of his neck. "Mhm," he managed to mumble. Truth be told, he really did want to do just that. The sun had always been something special to him. It was an expanse of gold that didn't threaten to swallow him whole and choke the breath right out of his lungs, starve him and beat him until he could barely stand. Other than that, though, it had been a promise. In his short life, he'd had a lot of people leave him—including his own brother, even though that hadn't entirely been his choice. And while the sun set every night, it painted the sky in a wonderous palette of flames in goodbye, and always returned with an equally beautiful "good morning".
And Lityerses was a son of Demeter. One way or another, he would always be connected to the sun. He wanted to share that part of him with Apollo, let the sun god himself experience that special type of contentment.
"Well," Leo sighed, a smile of his own lighting up his face. "That's decided. Sunset's in four hours, but who knows when Sunny'll wake up. We should hurry with the decorating."
"Reminder that I can do it myself and you all don't actually have to help," Lit said as one final protest. All the group of them did was wave him off and insist that it was fine, just as they had done every other time he'd tried not to let this become an accidental burden.
Calypso slid down from the countertop she'd been sitting on, grasping both of Lit's shoulders with a slightly startling level of seriousness. "Now, what flowers does he like?"
Apollo groaned as he woke up, his consciousness suddenly snapping to life after drifting in a black sea of nothingness for what was probably a decent amount of hours.
He hated waking up like that. It was worse than when Artemis dumped ice water on him to wake him up when the two of them camped out together. You know how ridiculous it feels to be mentally gone for hours on end and then all of a sudden, you can feel, hear, see, smell, and taste everything with full definition? It was utterly disorienting.
"Ugh," he mumbled into his pillow.
Wait, pillow?
He was ninety percent sure he'd fallen asleep—rather comfortably, by the way—on Lityerses' chest. But the swordsman was nowhere in sight, and neither was the warmth he brought with his muscular arms. Pity. Apollo enjoyed the intimacy that came with sleeping in another's hold, the trust that intertwined the two as both minds or one drifted into vulnerable unconsciousness, arms circling waists in a silent, simultaneous vow of protection and display of care.
"Oh, you're up!"
Apollo flinched at the voice, blinking hard as he worked to rub the sleep out of his eyes. When his vision finally centered, his gaze zeroed in on a very excitement-bouncing-off-the-walls Leo Valdez, his eyes burning with an energetic fire as he grinned down at the sun god. With a yawn, Apollo stretched like oversized cat, clutching his Lit Replacement Pillow to his chest. "Were you waiting for me to?"
"Uh, sort of?" Leo shook his head, jumping off the couch and dragging Apollo up with him. "Day's almost over, Sunny. You gotta head to the roof."
Apollo froze in his tracks, jaw dropping. "I slept for that long? Why didn't anybody wake me up?!" Panic shot through him all of sudden, the position of the sun humming in his bones, calling to him as a reminder that he had to park the chariot soon. The day was almost over, and he hadn't even been able to spend the last couple of hours with his boyfriend.
To both his surprise and confusion, Leo only laughed. "Don't worry, ese. Everything's in perfect order. You didn't miss anything you were supposed to see happen, anyway."
Apollo blinked, then narrowed his eyes, suspicion rising in him alongside the lack of warmth. "What does that mean?"
"Like I said," he hummed, grabbing Apollo's shoulders from behind him and pushing him in the direction of the stairs. "Head to the rooftop. Everything'll make sense, trust me. And maybe change into something warmer? It's kinda chilly out there, and you're not exactly dressed for the cold."
Apollo looked down at his sweatpants and Led Zeppelin T-Shirt, pouting. "I think I look perfectly fine. 'Sides, I embody the sun and stuff, remember? Can't get too cold. And what do you even want me to do on the roof? Who—or what is up there?"
"At least a hoodie, dude," Leo pressed. "And that last part remains untold."
Apollo snorted. "Sworn to secrecy, are you?" he said dryly. "At least tell me the second part, then."
The demigod sighed. "Don't worry so much, man! Just walk up there and look pretty. You'll be fine."
"You are really not helping." Apollo was on the second flight of stairs when another wave of confusion and longing washed over him. "Where is Lit?"
"Maybe you'll see him if you go up to the roof."
Apollo immediately perked up, something like anticipation swimming inside of him now. Lit was up there? Could he have planned something? Apollo had strictly told him not to, because it really wasn't necessary and he didn't want Lit to think he owed him something or whatever. And the demigod had seemed perfectly fine with entertaining him in different ways—most of which included becoming the god's personal stuffed animal. So what was waiting up there for him?
"This isn't some stupid prank, is it?" he asked warily as he stepped off the staircase and into the hallway leading to the bedrooms, not in the mood for fake snakes or angry ravens. "I'm not gonna fall into a dumpster when I walk up there?"
"Geez, you have so much faith in us to not screw you over."
Apollo threw one hand up in surrender as he used the other to open the door to his room. "Hey, this whole place is owned by a goddess who absolutely obsesses over pranks and spring-traps. I am completely valid in questioning you for the sake of my own safety."
Leo groaned. "You've made your point. Just put on a jacket and come on!"
"Okay, okay," Apollo laughed, shrugging on red hoodie that may or may not have belonged to a certain son of Midas. What? Don't look at him like that! Just because his little brother was the god of thieves does not mean he is incapable of the action himself. And in his defense, it was for a good cause.
Grabbing a small pocketknife from his dresser (for safety reasons), he walked back out, making for the staircase to the rooftop before pausing when he realized Leo wasn't following him. He frowned, asking, "Aren't you gonna come up with me?"
"Nope!" sang Leo, popping the 'p'. He then promptly ran and skidded down the stairs so quickly, Apollo could almost picture a cartoonish trail of smoke trailing behind him.
Left alone and without much other choice than to just do what he was told, Apollo sighed exasperatedly, climbing up the stairs one pain-staking step at a time until he reached the door that opened up to the top of the Waystation. He cautiously pushed it open, shivering when a cold gust of wind bombarded his face. Wrapping his arms around himself, he tentatively stepped out, preparing himself to get ambushed by a hoard of monsters at any turn. When nothing happened, confusion built up in him once more.
"Is that my hoodie?"
Apollo spun around, finding none other than the personal stuffed animal himself. Lityerses was dressed in black sweatpants and T-Shirt, the long sleeves of his black and red striped undershirt the only thing keeping his arms warm. His ebony curls were for once unadorned by the red bandana that might as well have been another part of the boy's body at this point, falling in a perfectly messy arrangement around his face. Eyes the color of melted dark chocolate gazed down at him through long, equally dark lashes, amusement and intrigue swishing around inside them.
"Uh."
Did he ever mention he was the god of poetry?
Lit chuckled at his lack of capability to form a proper response, his dimples appearing on either side of his mouth. "I was wondering where that thing went," he said, walking closer.
Apollo cleared his throat, getting his brains back together to process the situation. "I, uh, I was just borrowing it b-because—uhm. I can give it back if you want?" Oh, that was so much better, Apollo. Really, you're doing great with words today.
"Nah, keep it." Lit's hands found the god's hips, and Apollo preened as warmth flooded into him through the swordsman's palms. "You look pretty like this."
The scoff that left his mouth did nothing to quench the heat that rushed to the god's face at the comment. "Hardly so. My hair's a mess. I probably look like I died in my sleep."
Another laugh escaped the demigod’s throat as he moved to intertwine their fingers, turning and leading the sun god to a different section of the roof. “It’s alright, Sunshine. You could look pretty drenched in blood.”
Apollo smiled. "You really must stop your flattery. My sister will never stop complaining about my supposedly indeflateable ego."
He sighed. "Well, if you insist, for the sake of your sister's sanity, I shall restrain myself from showering you with too many compliments."
Apollo glanced around, unsure of what he was searching for. He could feel Lit’s eyes on him, watching as confusion twisted his features. After a long moment of silence, Apollo finally gave in, groaning. “Okay, fine, I’ll bite. Why were you waiting for me up here? And why was Leo acting all weird?”
Lityerses let go of his hand and moved behind Apollo now, one hand sliding onto his waist, the other slipping gently over the god’s eyes. “Do you trust me?”
“To kill a man? Absolutely.” Apollo’s metaphorical heart fluttered with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. “To lead me into the unknown? Less so.”
“Wow,” Lit drawled dryly as he slowly began to lead the god forward once more. “Good to know you had no intentions of letting my head get too big.”
Apollo reached his hand back blindly to pat the demigod’s cheek. “Always happy to humble you, prince.”
“I’m sure you are,” he said, and Apollo could hear the laughter in his voice. "Come on. Just a little further."
The sun god let Lit lead him across the rooftop, goosebumps raising on his skin where the demigod's body was pressed against his own. He exhaled softly when they finally came to a stop, warmth lighting his cheeks on fire when he felt he felt Lit's breath brush right across his jaw, voice flowing smoothly beside his ear. "Ready?"
Apollo scoffed a laugh. "That's a slightly terrifying question. Sure."
He could practically feel Lit's smirk. When the cornhusker removed his hand, Apollo let the sunlight warm his eyelids for a moment before opening them. His breath caught in his throat as he processed the scene before him.
They were high enough above the city and just far enough from the noise that everything below felt softened, like the world had been turned down to a gentle hum. The sky was in that perfect in-between moment where gold melts into pink, then into a slow, deepening violet. Warm air moved lazily across the space, carrying the faint scent of flowers and the promise of night.
Clusters of sunflowers stood near the edges of the rooftop, catching the last rays of sunlight so they glowed like small suns of their own. Roses—deep red, blush pink, and few creamy whites—were arranged low along the railings, their petals softening the space with a sense of intimacy. Apollo's heart blossomed with the hyacinths as they added a subtle sweetness to the air, their pastel blues and purples tucked into small vases or woven into garlands that drape along the seating area.
Finally, his gaze found the small bench that sat near the edge, set for two, with a view that stretched endlessly. The city lights began to spark awake below, mirroring the stars that were just starting to appear above. Everything felt suspended in that perfect moment where day and night overlapped, and the whole setting seemed designed to make time slow down.
"Oh," Apollo said softly, more a release of breath than an actual word.
"What?" Lit said with a grin. His voice was playful, but the god could hear the slight tremble of nervousness coating his words. "That bad?"
Apollo shoved him, blinking back tears. "Don't be an idiot. Lit, this is—beautiful. You know you didn't have to do all this."
"I know," he sighed, rubbing his neck. "I wanted to, though. For you. I just..." He blushed, his deep brown eyes devastatingly earnest when they met the god's gaze. "Wanted to make you happy," he whispered, like he was afraid saying it aloud with turn this all to stone.
Apollo didn't think he could take more of this. He could hardly stand Sally Jackson's kindness when it was just her being the wonderful mother she was. Now his boyfriend had set this whole place up for him even when he'd specifically told him he didn't need to...all because he wanted to make him happy. Apollo wasn't half as sure of a prophecy's meaning as he was of his heart turning into a pile of warm, melted mush by the end of the day.
"Well, you've certainly succeeded in that area," Apollo quipped, though he kept his tone light.
Something resembling hopefulness glimmered in Lit's eyes. "Really?"
"Yes!" Apollo giggled, slightly breathless. He cupped the swordsman's cheek, gesturing at the scenery. "Are you even seeing what I'm seeing right now? This is amazing, beyond amazing, Lit. I don't understand how you could doubt that for a second."
That earned him a smile. "What happened to keeping me humble, darling?"
"Oh, there's plenty of time for that still, I assure you." Apollo hooked his arms around the taller boy's neck, pressing a quick kiss to his lips to enunciate his point. "But something like this requires endless praise."
"I'm not so sure any amount of your verbal degradation could catch up to my ego if you keep rewarding me like this," Lit whispered against him, their lips brushing with every word. He pulled back just enough to see Apollo's face in its entirety, thumb feathering over his cheek with the utmost affection. The action made Apollo's heart pump warmth into his body, the feeling blossoming like the fresh flowers that were intricately placed amongst the roof.
Wordlessly, Lityerses led Apollo to the bench, and they sat down to watch the sun set below the city horizon. Apollo had to appreciate the show the other pantheons had put on for the night, even with his absence. The thought of Sól and Ra, or perhaps Surya and Nyame painting the sky in an extra-extravagant arrangement of golds and pinks for the two of them sent a burst of affection sparking through his chest. And, no, that wasn't a far-fetched thought in the slightest, considering not even a second later, Ra breached his thoughts with the ever-wise words of: Tomorrow's my day off, Sunny. If you get to skip duties to hang out with your lover, Zia claims it's perfectly fine for her to be able to spend time with that boy Carter.
Apollo resisted the urge to snort. He didn't think Lit would much appreciate the concept of a bunch of sun gods watching their affections.
A little privacy, guys?
He could practically feel Surya rolling his eyes.
Apollo sighed contentedly as he leant into Lityerses’ side. “Thank you for all this,” he whispered. “It’s really sweet of you.”
“It’s…officially one year of us—you know, being together.” Lit shrugged with one shoulder, a bit of timidness still etched into his expression. “That’s a pretty big milestone.”
“A blink of the eye in both of our lifetimes,” Apollo pointed out, scanning over the demigod’s face as the fading orange sharpened the angles of it, turning his dark eyes into a sweet caramel.
Said eyes fell to meet his gaze, causing Apollo’s stomach to flutter wildly. “One could argue that a beautiful sight remains beautiful no matter how long you’ve looked upon it.”
“Why, Lityerses,” the sun god quipped playfully, “you’ll have me on the run for my own title of God of Poetry if you keep up like this.”
Lit scoffed. “I’m not even a god. I only have half of a goddess's blood, and that in itself is questionable.”
You certainly look divine, thought Apollo, suppressing a smile. “Whatever, prince. Never stop being poetic. It suits you.”
This time, Lit just outright rolled his eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re the god of it.”
“Well, yes,” Apollo admitted, a sly grin growing on his face. “But also because you sound hot.”
Lit blinked, stunned for a moment. “Excuse me?” he laughed, a different sort of spark glittering in his eyes.
“You heard me.” It was true. Sue him (and lose; he’s also the god of law, thank you very much), the light Greek accent that tilted every one of Lityerses’ words was lip-biting material as is. Put into actual poetry? It had Apollo stuck in a chokehold.
Not that he wanted to be saved from it.
He was exactly where he wanted to be.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really, really strange?”
Apollo snorted. And wasn’t that a loaded question? “Many times, darling. And don’t act like you didn’t know what you were getting into. You like me just the way I am, so really, this inconvenience is your own fault.”
“It’s your fault for being so annoyingly lovable,” Lit countered.
Everything screeched to a halt. Time itself seemed to stop, even though it was such a small word.
Lovable?
Small, and yet, endlessly consuming. Because that word didn’t come with double-meanings; it was what it was. It only had one truth.
And that was dangerous.
Slowly, carefully, ignoring his metaphorical heart’s attempt to beat itself out of his body, Apollo worked up the nerve to form a complete sentence out loud. “What does that mean?”
Lityerses kept eye contact, gaze completely locked to his as if they were the only two beings on the planet. His features softened in a way Apollo hadn’t quite deemed possible for him. “I think you already know,” he said gently.
A pause.
Apollo swallowed hard. It kind of hurt. “Say it,” he whispered. He needed to hear it, or he feared he may never believe it was real. Or worse, he’d know it was, and he wouldn’t be brave enough to face it.
Lityerses didn’t hesitate. And that fact was simultaneously the worst and best thing he could have possibly done as he said the three words that had damned every other person who’d dared to utter them to the sun god’s face. Lityerses knew that. And he didn’t hesitate. Blushed brighter than a blood moon, sure, but never paused, never reconsidered, never showed any sign of regret when they were out of his mouth.
Apollo’s vision grew slightly hazy. “Holy shit,” he breathed.
Lit chewed his bottom lip, uncertainty filling his expression. Still, it was not because he was unsure of his own declaration, but because he was scared that somehow Apollo would for some dumb reason not reciprocate his feelings. “I—“
Before Apollo knew it, the same three words had left his own tongue, his heart swelling so much he feared it may explode. He surged forward, kissing the idiot that held him in his arms with everything he had in him. Lit melted within seconds, kissing him back with equal fervor. Apollo curled his fingers into the swordsman’s—his lover’s—hair, his other hand grasping the front of the son of Midas’ shirt in a tight fist. Lit’s hands traveled from the god’s back to his waist, fingers tightening where they settled on his hips.
Apollo heard a low whistle in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like Ra.
He didn’t really care.
He was sort of preoccupied at the moment.
He loves me.
I love him.
He loves me.
I love him.
He loves me.
By the time they’d finally managed to pull themselves away from each other, the sun’s final ray was already halfway gone.
“So much for watching the sunset,” Lit joked, panting lightly.
“Be quiet,” Apollo muttered, still slightly stunned and processing.
“Yes, sir.”
Apollo combed through the boy’s hair, more gently this time, fixing the mess he’d made of it. His chest still hurt. His heart did not seem to have any intention of slowing down any time soon.
Lityerses loves me.
“You really love me,” he whispered, more a statement than a question.
Lit’s lips twitched at the corners. He raised an eyebrow expectantly.
“You can speak now,” Apollo allowed.
“Yes, I really love you, Phoebus Apollon.” Lit pressed his lips to the god’s forehead with the utmost affection, and he might as well have had hearts in his eyes for all that Eros had punctured his heart with his bloody arrows. “You really love me, too?”
Apollo nodded, feeling slightly dizzy from the giddiness building up inside of him.
“Say it,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over his cheek.
A soft laugh left Apollo’s mouth. “I really love you, Lityerses.”
Lit’s smile could have outshone the harvest moon. He leaned his forehead against the sun god’s, pecking a light kiss to the tip of his nose. “Happy anniversary, my love.”
Something in Apollo came undone at the nickname, loosening out to leave space for the surge of happiness that filled the emptiness.
“Happy anniversary.”