v v v

Sun didn’t meet Moon until several million years after his birth.

Their souls were child-like. Young, small, chubby-faced and wide-mouthed. They were both awkward and tender, not knowing what they were supposed to do. Star—Moon confrontations were always a little strange.

It was that patronizing white space of nothingness. Someone wished up a single bench and the two sat down, avoiding gazes.

Sun kept his face turned away, embarrassed. He was blushing, blushing! It was only some random moon that appeared here, it wasn’t like it was one of his children planets. It was only a Moon; those healthy, ivory-rich eyes or mystic state wouldn’t draw in Sun.

“Excuse me, Sun,” a pip voice spoke beside him. “But…you…you’re sunburnt.”

Sun’s jaw dropped, looking down at Earth’s Moon, offended.

“I don’t get sunburnt! I am the sun!”

“But you are, see?” The Moon tentatively pointed out a bright red blotch on one side of Sun’s face. “It’s just your human form. It’s okay…it’s not that bad. Time should heal it.”

Sun pouted, diplomatically tugging the hood of his clothing up over his head to cover the side of his face. “Okay.”

More silence. Moon inconspicuously wiggled and scooted closer to Sun, but his biting cold aura tickled the star’s side and Sun turned to observe him again. As he did, though, the young star didn’t fail to catch the desperate, horrid carves across Moon’s face, some red, some faded. Bruises littered his skin and some, on his hand, were still bleeding.

“W-What happened to you?” the young Sun asked, a waver in his voice.

Moon shrugged. “Meteors. They’re pretty harsh. They won’t listen to negotiations, so Earth just takes most of the hits for me. Earth says they’ll stop soon.”

Sun frowned and crossed his arms, hugging them close. “I’m sorry I can’t help you. I just can’t.”

“Shush,” Moon nipped softly. “You’re our sun, you have a lot to do and think about. Don’t worry, just don’t go away on us and we’ll be fine.”

Sun eyed the magma ruby sliding down Moon’s palm, and in a sudden panic he grabbed the other boy’s hands and quickly pressed his sweatshirt sleeves into the razor cuts.

Moon’s eyes enlarged, unbelievably so, and he awed at the star beside him. For the first time since his birth, Moon’s hands were warm.

“It’s a solar eclipse on your planet,” Sun muttered, soaking up the other’s blood.

“That’s what Earth called it,” Moon replied, voice sure. He asked, “Sun, what’s the name of your human form?”

“Jongin,” the child replied, fingers securing stronger around Moon’s hands.

“I’m Kyungsoo,” the other boy said, mildly proud.

Sun smiled. “Okay…Kyungsoo. I hope Earth will take care of you and mend these wounds…and…and…and if not, then you can always come to me.”

Moon grinned. “Okay…Jongin.”

v v v

“Moon, is that what the night looks like?”

Moon glanced at Sun, who was watching him with full, infatuated eyes. He rubbed his palms together in serious reverie, almost missing Sun’s question but only thinking about the gesture.

Moon was perched on an old fence facing out over a bluff and Sun leaned against the said fence, fingers laced together and eyes dawning over Moon’s face. They both were donned in 1930’s Korean Dress—somewhat traditional, somewhat Americanized. Suspenders and trousers and worn button-ups, Moon’s bare feet dangling near the edge of the hillside.

Sun leaned away only slightly to observe the smaller’s rounded eyes. They were wide and glowing and intrigued, curious but gentle. There was something coy and mischievous about the way his eyes creased with the quirk of his smile, as if he knew something that everyone else didn’t but was too kind to point that out, and similarly too smug to spill what it was he knew. Sun loved it. Moon was playful, but that part of him was hidden, dominated instead by his intense moral sense of duty and responsibility, and even more so, care.

Sun had been drastically clingy lately, and the star knew it. He had wanted to be as close as he could to Moon whenever possible being so aware that their times together were doomed to be short. Moon was at his first phase of the lunar cycle, a New Moon, and so they were close in Earth’s night skies.

The rural Korean countryside was split at the moment. On one side, where Moon sat on the wooden rails, it was dark. Cloaked in shadow, darkness, and the croaking songs of the night. Alternatively, where Sun stood beside Moon, it was morning. Birds chirped and the land was doused in a warm yellow. Directly between them in the limited space there was a hazy line amidst the two.

“Yeah,” Moon replied to Sun’s question, eyeing his half of the landscape.

“It’s so…dark.”

“Yeah.”

Sun frowned. He hoisted himself up onto the fence beside Moon, each facing a different way. He craned his neck to look around Moon’s shoulder and directly into his glittering eyes. “Moon, my love, have I said something to upset you?”

Moon carefully shook his head. “No, Sun. It’s just…”

“Yes?” Sun’s hands came up to caress Moon’s square-ish jawline.  The smaller gestured to the even smaller distance between them and the fuzzy line that distinguished light from dark.

“It’s this. The heavens are reminding us that we belong in two separate places. We are of two opposite realities.”

Sun had already begun to shake his head, his expression creasing with worry. “No, no, Moon. We do belong together. This is our shared reality—this is ours.”

Moon wasn’t exactly sure what Sun was referencing to, but was afraid to wonder, so he looked down at his less-than-elegant hands. “You’re so…magnificent. So powerful. So full. I don’t understand. No…you don’t understand. You just don’t get it. I am not worthy or strong enough to sustain your affections. We are gears that do not fit together. The universe cannot continue to function if we distract ourselves with…this.”

“This…” Sun murmured, playing with Moon’s fingers. “…this is the most beautiful part of my existence, Moon.” Sun exerted a plume of energy from his body, forcing Moon to meet gazes as his mass was magnetized to the star’s gravity of being. His eyes were trickled with fears and longing and desire, and Sun wanted nothing more than to wipe those expressions away. “You are the most beautiful part of my existence. When I shine, you glow. You provide the cold relief to my searing hot, the relaxation of darkness in contrast to my energizing light.”

“You don’t get it!” Moon suddenly cried, prying his hands away from Sun to then cup them tenderly around Sun’s face. “Do you hear yourself? I am the cold, I am the darkness. I cannot offer anything to you while you have everything to give to me. It’s unfair. And my face…” He sounded disgusted as he said this, lips curling back. “I’m so scarred…I’m so ugly, Sun. I just want to be something more for you.”

“You already are,” Sun assured, pulling Moon’s smaller body towards him. “Moon, you bring me stories about Earth and humanity and feed me gestures about dreams and love, Moon, if this is love then I have achieved one of the greatest assets of existence. I must defend it. I must defend my love for you and I will do so until my fire burns out and I die of age.”

By now they were so close, touching, that the line between them was not discernable, geometric shades of light and darkness casting over each other. Sun continued as he brought his hands up to Moons face and they were holding each other’s heads.

“Moon, you mean everything to me. The rest of the solar system, you are more than all of that. I…I love you.”

Moon was quiet, his stare leering into Sun’s own orbs.

“There is no light without darkness…Moon, stars do not shine without darkness.” He smiled cheekily in hopes to lighten Moon’s mood. “My dear, dear Moon, will you be the darkness to this star? Will you be the greater beauty to my existence? Will you love me too?”

Moon was perfectly still and their faces…oh, they were so close they could kiss. Sun thought about it; he thought about how easy it would be to just lean in and—

Before he knew it a silky pair of lips were pressed against his. Simply. It was sure and certain, though mild and modest and it was Moon who was initiating it, trying to find where exactly their loyalties laid. The commander of the night had a small mouth and small hands and Sun couldn’t help but to collect the smaller in his arms and hold him even closer. Moon calmed him like no other galactic body could. Around them the light changed, the distinction between day and night erupting and in its place was a moody blue-gray hue—the anti-light between day and night, the short span of time of early morning and late evening when the landscape was no longer of the day or the night, but was caught in a static twilight basin in between.

This is where their love could last.

Eventually Moon needed to pull away and his breath fanned over Sun’s lips, he chuckled lowly and sighed. “You fool. I already love you to the moon and back.”

v v v

Sun was happy. He wished that every solar eclipse could be spent this way, with Moon beside him on the bed, unclothed and vulnerable and sweet. There they were hanging in the bare dusk pool before Sun’s evident death time and Moon’s rise.

They hadn’t been seeing each other very often now. Their times together seemed torturously short and it was almost too painful to be given what they needed—each other—only to have it ripped away so quickly. Sun pressed their lips together, almost desperately, his veins buzzing with heat and excitement. His heart rammed against his ribcage lividly, distraught and aching for more. He gasped for air and pressed closer, being careful to hold the smaller male’s face gently as he fed off of his energy.

Moon’s lips were immaculately soft and malleable, cold. They molded to Sun’s mouth faultlessly, the creases of his heart-shaped lips waltzing smoothly with his companion’s.

Moon was just too ethereal, particularly as a shy smile graced his lips and forced their kiss to be detached.

Sun’s fingers carded through the hair on the side of Moon’s head and the smaller leaned into his touch. As he did Sun handled the other side of his face and kissed him again.

Oh, that kiss. Sun had wanted that kiss forever and he was going to want it forever more.

Moon responded appropriately, his small hands tugging on Sun’s shirt and tongue accidentally flicking to the larger’s mouth. Sun felt Moon grimace in embarrassment, but the star chuckled and in retaliation drew his own tongue over Moon’s top lip, gratefully tasting the moon’s salty saliva. Moon, feeling supported by this action, carefully parted his lips and allowed Sun to excavate his mouth.

The moon’s hands moved from Sun’s arms to wrapping like a ribbon around his neck. He swayed into the sun’s warm embrace, feeling absolutely beside himself. Moon had wanted this for so long and yet something about it felt so unreal. He was a dingy little moon orbiting a dying planet and for some reason he’d caught the eye of none other than the sun…the sun. The star that was the sole reason for Moon’s coming into existence, the star whose human form was drastically exotic and comforting and everything Moon really wasn’t.

He didn’t care. Every inch of his soul tingled and begged him to enjoy the moment. So he did, he closed his eyes and melted into Sun’s arms as the taller began kissing a healthy trek off of Moon’s lips, across his cheek, nibbling the length of his ear and swirling patterns down his neck. Sun positioned his weight over the moon and pressed the latter into the bed eagerly.

Sun glanced at Kyungsoo. “Perhaps I won’t go into detail with that memory yet.”

Kyungsoo chuckled, feeling as if he was invading Sun’s privacy. “Um…it’s up to you.”

Sun stared at the human as if evaluating him, as if trying to dig something out of Kyungsoo’s soul. The smaller didn’t fidget—he’d by now become used to Sun’s solemn intensity and the warm begging in his pupils. It was strange and Kyungsoo found himself wanting to satisfy this star, wanted to ease the glint of pain in his eyes.

He didn’t know how.

“I think you want to hear about a star and a moon making love,” a voice suddenly blurted beside him, and Kyungsoo jumped, startled by the reappearance of his conscience.

“I-I-I…no, I don’t…I don’t need—”

“Maybe you’re too embarrassed. It’s okay, Kyungsoo. Sun isn’t offended.”

Kyungsoo desperately turned to the star. “Sun, is there any way to make him go away?”

Sun shrugged gently, but there was a light pink tint to his cheeks that made Kyungsoo’s own blush flare. “Only if you want there to be.”

The human thought about that. He only had to wish Conscience away? He turned around and—

And Conscience was gone. Relieved, Kyungsoo faced Sun once again, slightly avoiding eye contact. “You know,” he said heedfully. “You never told me Moon’s real name.”

Sun froze up. Their gazes met: Kyungsoo’s innocent and curious, and Sun’s bewildered and saddened.

The star cleared his throat. “Yes…well…”

Instead of responding to that specific inquiry, he continued his storytelling (skipping over a selection of details).

Sun Moon’s pale stomach fondly, this time with his own head tucked below the smaller’s arm. The both of them basked in their shared bliss as Moon’s chilly fingers combed through Sun’s disarrayed locks.

“I love you, Sun,” Moon whispered.

Sun wrapped his heavy arms around Moon’s torso. “I love you too, Moon.”

Sun had been wearing out, his glowing light fading and heat coming down as his daily rise was coming to an end…he wasn’t sure if he wanted Moon there to witness his death, his coming of his fall.

But Moon didn’t make any notion that he wanted to move any time soon. They both knew that he’d have to rise soon and dawn the blue light upon his side of the Earth—he was only a crescent tonight, an elegant sliver of opulent, pearly opal.

Being so near Moon’s bare body, Sun’s eyes had the chance to examine the smaller’s meteorite scars up close. Some were deep, some shallow, all of them jagged yet sleek. The devastating decorations caused the moon’s skin to appear mosaic-like and patterned together in the most intricate way. He kindly reached out and one discolored crater-like scar on Moon’s ribcage.

Moon immediately jolted in surprise, aware of the numbing tingles the scar sent through his body. “S-Sun…”

“You once said that you were scarred and ugly,” Sun muttered, tracing then a long, thin cut across Moon’s midsection. He sensed Moon tense, discomfort riddling his muscles as Sun opened this topic. “You believe you are not worthy of me, that you are weak and standard and so uninspiring.” He kissed the uppermost protruding rib on Moon’s frame. “I’m telling you that’s not true. I’m telling you that you are the furthest from being anything ugly.  It’s just not true.”

By that time Sun’s chest had begun to pinch with a familiar tense persistence: breathing was already becoming a struggle. He gruffly cleared his throat and tightened his hold around Moon. “You are more important than you think. To this, to us, I bring the bodily warmth and the protection, the safety of being. I bring the persistent kisses too. But you Moon bring everything else. The imagination, the care, the honesty, the contrast, the reflection, the words, the late-night wisdom, the slow, passionate kisses.”

Sun felt Moon’s sensitive shiver, the arms he had around the smaller tingling with the cold. There was a slight snuffle—Moon was crying. But Sun wasn’t done yet. He shifted his weight—weakly, for his muscle strength was beginning to deteriorate—so that his head was level with Moon’s. The smaller male turned his head away as Sun continued to speak.

“You think you’re not worthy of me but if anything I am not worthy of you! I’m astounded by how someone so small can be so great.” He paused to bite around wheezing breaths, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily as his stomach flipped. “Do you remember the first time our souls met?”

Moon was deathly silent, but Sun discerned the soft scrape of his hair brushing against the pillow as he nodded.

“The first thing you told me was that I had a sunburn.” He laughed gently. “You were honest. That’s one thing that I love about you: your connection to all that is true and real.”

Moon gulped. “You say that you love everything about me.”

“Well I do, but you still don’t believe you’re beautiful so I’m giving specific examples. Now hush. The second thing you said was that time would heal my wound. That’s something else I love about you: your graciousness.” His padded fingertips brushed the soft underside of Moon’s chin, tilting his head back to face him. Glittering streaks marked Moon’s pale appearance, his rounded eyes gleaming with drowning emotions and desperation. Sun smiled sadly at the sight, his hot hand palming his own chest in an attempt to lessen the freezing burn taking place there. But he quickly leaned in and pressed his lips back against Moon’s to mask his pain. As their mouths parted Sun nuzzled into Moon’s face, seeking his chill in order to suppress his itching skin. But Moon’s own icy hands came up and brushed against Sun’s cheeks, intentionally giving the taller goosebumps to cool him down. The moon shifted and pushed himself up onto his elbow so that he could observe the other, blinking the teardrops out of his lashes. Sun beamed up at him. “You’re just so selfless and majestic in that way. I’m so lucky you’re in my existence.” He craned his neck up and pecked Moon’s awaiting lips once again. “I love you.”

The smaller gazed down at him worriedly, thoughtful. “I’ve never cried before.”

“I haven’t either.” He growled suddenly as his throat ripped with a painful burning sensation and his gut clenched agonizingly. Sun kept his reactions to a minimum. Don’t worry Moon, he thought.

Moon scowled. “You’re dying.”

Sun chuckled weakly as his toes started to numb and his breathing became achingly hoarse. “Oh Moon, I really didn’t want you to have to see this. It’s okay. This happens at the end of every one of my days: it’s natural. I could never love dying any more than I do now knowing that you will rise in my place.”

Moon’s sentimental side came out then as he leaned closer and brushed his fingers along Sun’s collarbone. He must have known he couldn’t do anything, voice shaking with despair. “I—I’m so sorry.”

“I choose this Moon. I choose it every day. Don’t apologize and please don’t shed those sad tears. We’ll see each other for the next solar eclipse.”

“Is it painful?”

“It’s not as painful as rising every morning to a sky that doesn’t have you in it.”

“Oh Sun!”

“Shh.” The star took Moon’s hand, trembling and hoping that his pupils weren’t bleeding. “I am content. What’s that saying humans use?” He thought for a moment. “Ah, I would die a thousand times for you? Something like that? Well I have the luxury of dying trillions of times more than that!”

Moon laughed achingly then. “It’s not a competition you dummy!”

They were silent, draped in lethargic stasis and deep thought. Moon’s face was gradually becoming brighter and brighter as his time for rising neared, but his dark eyes were meditative and mopey as usual. Sun’s lips had become pale and chapped and his legs immobilized, his breathing out of tempo and discordant. Within him his heart couldn’t keep a pace and each beat was thumping later and later than the last.

“…Thank you,” said Moon.

Sun grinned cheekily. “Is that all?”

The moon laughed and sighed, leaning in to press a kindred and heartfelt kiss to Sun’s lips. “Thank you.”

In the end Sun didn’t really allow Moon to see him deteriorate. As the star’s side was occupied by little Moon’s curled up figure, he began to utilize his magma energy, massaging Moon’s consciousness into a lulled sleep. As his tongue bled and his face dried, eyelids drooping down in sudden unintentional fatigue the star watched Moon’s sleeping face: so serene, so tranquil. The moon’s eyelashes quivered in his sleep and Sun suddenly wondered if their souls dreamt; he himself had never actually slept before in his existence. He puzzled over what Moon would dream about.

Sun felt it: the last heartbeat, the waning energy, the feeling being buried deep in the sand unable to move sleepy limbs. His body had begun to fade away into nothing: transparent. Taking one last longing look at his love, he suddenly realized that he really didn’t want to go.

Sun placed a kiss on top of Moon’s head and as a single ashen tear fell from his eyes he whispered into the smaller’s fluffy hair:

“I will see you the next time you rise in my sky. Sleep well, Moon.”

Then he was gone. Disappeared.

And all that was left were rumpled sheets and a cold moon shivering in his sleep.

Sun watched Kyungsoo intensely as he finished off that particular memory, evaluating as if to measure his reaction. Shivers ran up and down the human’s body; he suddenly felt cold. Kyungsoo knew that sensation all too well: falling into unconsciousness rather than simply slipping. He always felt the hard ground after he “slipped” into dream worlds, cold and alone under the covers.

He didn’t tell Sun this though.

“But Sun, you don’t orbit Earth. You’re always burning, always shining light on the planet. You’re always rising. How is it that you die?”

Sun pondered this for a moment, and then replied, “It has less to do with physical being. My true form, the sun, is a large force of physical existence. In essence I do not have a life, but I have an incredible amount of energy that moves my constant actuality.

“The death and life of space bodies has to do with tides of energy: when I am low, Moon is high. Because my body is the largest of our solar system I continually let off wake-like pulses of excess energy and these wakes affect the rest of my subject planets and moons.” His hands moved as he spoke, waving about in a spontaneous theatrical display. Kyungsoo could tell that this subject enlightened Sun very much and it was thoroughly satisfying to watch him move and hear him speak, smiling all the way. “The thing is that my planets are reacting to my wake: I am reacting to the galaxy’s wake. The energetic flow of energy that generates from the center of the milky-way galaxy is what affects my tide of energy. And this galaxy is affected by the pulse of the center of the universe—”

He stopped to take a breath and glance and Kyungsoo to make sure he was following before continuing.

“So as the universe expands it radiates off and on high and low amounts of energy. The same goes for the galaxy: the waves of energy ripple out and affect me, and my waves of energy affect the “rising” and “falling” of my planets. But my tides are opposite those of the galaxy, so when one combines all the wakes of energy together, in the end I ultimately am opposite Moon. My physical form of the sun will always be there, but my consciousness will not.”

Kyungsoo blinked. “Wow.”

“I hope that’s understandable enough.”

The human shook his head and scooted closer to Sun, discreetly seeking out his warmth now. “It’s just…the energy that comes from the center of the universe would have needed to travel so far, and yet after all that distance and all that time, all that energy clashing and mixing and still going out, you still manage to be opposite Moon.”

“Yeah…”

“That just seems so unfortunate.”

Sun shrugged, smiling mildly. “It’s the way of the universe.”

Kyungsoo was hushed, quiet as a thought dawned upon him. “Sun…” he whispered. “Does the universe have a soul?”

The star cocked his head, a playful smile pinching his lips. The friskiness in his grin was oh so contagious and Kyungsoo found himself smiling too.

“Is that a yes?” he inquired.

Sun nodded.

“Have you ever met Universe’s soul?” was the question that quickly followed, Kyungsoo leaning closer in interest. But this time Sun shook his head.

“No—that would be quite something though.”

And then, true to the way the human mind works, Kyungsoo’s next question was inevitable. “Sun, what’s out there beyond the universe?”

The star laughed and reached out to ruffle the human’s hair. “Even I don’t know that. My focus and priority and endearment have only always ever been with my solar system, and I am content with that. My my, you humans ask big questions.”

Kyungsoo’s skull tingled, the star’s heated touch still lingered on his scalp. Sun must have sensed this, because his expression quickly changed to one of apprehension and he moved himself to sit closer. “Kyungsoo, child, are you cold?”

The human shrugged and warped his freezing fingers. “Uh…no.”

But Sun moved even closer, their sides brushing. He lifted his palm and, without permission, began running his hand through the human’s hair. Streaks of heat flamed comfortingly through Kyungsoo’s body. He blushed.

“Moon was cold often too,” the star mumbled absently. Then, his hand pausing, he said, “I hope I’m not too assuming.”

Kyungsoo shook his head hastily. “Thank you.”

v v v

Jongin looked up from where he sat, one of a few stars that’d decided to sit and watch the celebration unfold from afar. It wasn’t anything any of them weren’t used to. Planets and moons intermingled and flirted as they stood and swooped about the dance hall, whereas stars and suns were more sedentary folk. 

The young man—who was in fact a near-five-billion-year-old sun—pinched his lips, amused, as one of his twin suns Proxima Centauri (who went by the name of Taemin) sidled up to Earth, flashing his smile at the planet. Earth, a thin young lad with a natural smile and sharp cheekbones and soft eyes, nodded back, patiently listening to Proxima ramble and boast and attempt to court him.

Earth—Jongdae, his name was—was sick. Malnutrition hung like chains over his shoulders, shady circles watercolored his eye sockets. His weight was clearly heaved onto the cane in his hand, the one he needed to get around by himself. Of course, Earth made even a cane look elegant and worthy of shimmer and grace, not something haggard and awkward. He seemed fatigued and a tad saddened, but the beauty about him was still there, still vibrant.

The whole celebration was for Earth. Galaxy—a Chinese named Yifan—had teamed with Sun to organize, and he hosted the party to liven Earth’s spirits. It was the movement of the solar eclipse, and essentially it was in celebration of Earth, Moon, and Sun. But Sun was content just sitting and watching. Galaxy hosted galas for all sorts of stars and planets and such, and it was only supposed it was Earth’s time.

Jongin and Jongdae—Sun and Earth—were good friends. Sun was good friends with all of the planets in his solar system…he kept them all alive anyway.

But there was something special about Earth, something special that didn’t even have anything to do with Earth himself.

The hall was alight with grand, golden lights and adorned in exotic, elegant décor of whites and golds and blues and all sorts of fine crystalline. Stars, planets, moons, comets, meteors; all of them near Sun’s solar system came to commemorate. The ceiling was not a ceiling at all, but rather an expanse of darkness, of space.

It was absolutely beautiful, the whole setting. Outside Sun knew was a garden and pavilion, pools and fountains.

It wasn’t exactly real, per se, by human standards it wouldn’t be. Nothing here could be seriously touched by a human, but the whole setting was a collective consciousness between the souls of the galactic beings. Their existences were connected and tied together for these occasions and their souls intermingled with each other.

Sun watched silently as Earth excused himself from the other radical star’s pressing infatuation and began strolling towards the table Sun was seated at. The star didn’t miss how Earth stumbled a little and seemed a bit dazed, but he gave a customary smile to the approaching planet, who grinned gently.

“Hello, Sun. How are you feeling?” Earth asked as he sat down across from the other.

The sun shrugged. “I’m not that old yet, chap. Still burning.”

Earth laughed; a mellow, welcoming sound. “Doing better than me of late, then.”

The sun forced a smile at that comment. Everyone knew the reason behind Earth’s illness. It was no secret how much Earth adored his humans, how much he cared and supported them. The other planets of the system had become wary, though, upset by their kin’s suffering. There wasn’t anything Sun could do about it.

He couldn’t really say he liked humans much. They were noisy and destructive and awfully messy. Not to mention they abused Earth…but Earth was too naïve to see it for what it truly was.

“How are you enjoying your celebration?” Sun asked. “It’s been a while since we’ve talked and I haven’t even had a chance to see you yet.”

Earth chuckled. “It’s overwhelming. There are planets from two systems over here to see me. There are so many. I’m not used to it.” He shook his head and continued, “You and Galaxy. Always setting things like these up. I really can’t believe it, you even got Neptune to come.”

Earth nudged his head towards the corner of the room where a tall, stick-skinny young male stood awkwardly, a cloud of brooding shyness hanging over him. Sun smirked.

“Sehun.”

Earth watched as Sun’s eyes shifted anxiously about the room, breaking his façade of calm. He was looking for something.

Or someone.

Earth shook his head with a sigh and a smile. “I may not be as old as you, but I’ve been around the block a few times.” He threw a pointed stare at Sun, who quirked an eyebrow. “You didn’t just set this up to celebrate the solar eclipse. You’re looking for Moon.”

Sun opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Earth snorted.

“He’s here, don’t worry. He’s just saying hello to his moon friends.”

Sun blushed. He couldn’t help it.

Many of the planets couldn’t fathom his infatuation with Earth’s Moon. It was so ridiculous. Sun was a giant, bright, extreme life source they all shared. His existence and his energy were almost four hundred times that of the moon’s. No one explicitly gossiped about the two, but everyone wiggled their eyebrows when they were together. Their meetings were rather rare.

Sun reached out and the rim of the long, elegant champagne glass with his lips anxiously pursed, and then grasped it in his hand and brought it to his mouth for a gulp. He was nervous. The Sun, Kim Jongin, was unnerved by Earth’s one little moon. How odd.

He was delving into a stream of deep thought, brows furrowed and teeth clenched with tension, when a soft hand perched onto his shoulder and he immediately whipped his head back to see who it could’ve been, even though the star knew already by the pull of the being’s aura behind him.

His heart flipped as his eyes landed on the small, smiling face of Moon. His eyes equally bulged and he jumped out of his chair to stand respectfully for his love, and when he did he was easily half a head taller than the other. “M-M-Moon.”

Moon smiled. The young man’s face was truly, truly endearing. And true to the natural way universal physics worked, his face was alight always in Sun’s presence. Moon was small and thin, but his face a well-rounded sculpture of wisdom and intrigue. He had characteristically large lips and eyes and eyebrows; it was decisively dramatic but in its own subtle way. His appearance was neat and orderly, with only a fray of indiscipline marking his expression.

To Sun it was positively magical.

Moon bowed his head in polite reverence, standing dutifully beside Earth who watched with intent eyes as the interaction unfolded in front of him, and between Moon and Sun. This was, of course, the solar eclipse.

“Hello Sun. It’s been a long time.”

“Too long,” Sun blurted too quick. Moon, much to Sun’s delight, blushed.

“Too long indeed.” Moon glanced to Earth, as if to check on him, before facing Sun again. “This is a wonderful gala you and Galaxy are hosting. We haven’t formally celebrated our eclipse in a long time.”

“Too long.”

Sun mentally smacked himself. Of all the beautiful etiquette and words he could have said, he said that.

This time Moon chuckled. “Too long indeed.”

As they stood and observed each other quietly a figure strode up to the three of them, and Sun recognized the planet-in-human-form as none other than Mars.

The short boy smiled and bowed first towards Sun, then to Earth respectfully before he spoke.

“Hello Sun. Earth. Moon. I was told to inform you that the celebratory waltz is beginning now. I’m sure you know the drill; Earth will open the dance, followed by Sun and Moon together.”

Sun nodded sturdily and thanked the red planet, who bowed again and turned to take his leave.

Moon and Sun were in the midst of exchanging a fond smile, Sun examining every inch and corner of dear Moon’s pale face, when Earth winced beside the smaller; something Moon didn’t have to see, but he felt Earth’s tug of pain and he immediately turned to his planet. “Earth, are you alright? You don’t have to dance—”

The planet patted Moon’s cheek in a motherly sort of way and his lips quirked up at the corners a tinge. “I’m well enough to dance for thirty seconds. You and Sun just be sure to come in quick, I don’t want to bore everyone with my inexperience.” He looked up to Sun from where he was sitting, and the star felt a twinge of upset looking into his tired eyes. “Sun is an incredible dancer. You two waltz well together. And you’re the main attraction! This is the solar eclipse we’re celebrating, isn’t it? Now, Moon, help me up will you please?”

A new sonata began its tranquil phase throughout the room as Earth discarded his cane into Moon’s hands and he stepped out onto the marble dance floor with an uncanny amount of grace for someone so fatigued. Everything about Earth appearance became one of youth once again and he performed a traditional opening promenade of movement. It was fortunate that Earth had a seemingly endless vitality about him, because he wasn’t a very good dancer. No one held it against him.

Sun’s eyes rolled to his side where Moon stood, looking slightly anxious as he observed his Warden planet move. Gently and somewhat discreetly Sun s his hand around Moon’s with a friendly smile. “He’ll be alright. Let’s give him a break though, shall we?”

Moon nodded, and after a breath of confidence they waltzed out onto the floor and swooped into each other’s arms.

There was something about Moon. Something really special.

They danced. And danced. And danced. He and Moon were the only two on the court. The other planets, comets, stars, and such stood by and watched the two beings move and maneuver elegantly across the golden marble space, entranced and enveloped in their clashing energies.

Sun just loved the feeling of being able to hold Moon close finally, to feel his heart beating against his chest, to press him close, to see him smile and to touch his skin. Oh, how Sun loved Moon.

The star was worrying himself with what he was supposed to actually say when Moon’s soft chuckle interrupted him.

“You don’t have to be so brooding, Sun. We’re not strangers, you have no one to impress.”

Sun wanted to argue that, yes, he did have someone to impress, and that that someone was currently in his arms twirling about in a dance. He smiled wider.

“What about you, dear Moon? Can’t I impress you?”

Moon smiled gently. “Your dancing skills are impressive enough. A beautiful star like you has no need to awe a little moon like myself.” Sun was about to protest and declare how very important Moon was to him, but the moon leaned forward suddenly. The move caught the Sun off-guard and for a split second he thought that maybe Moon was going to kiss him. His heart leapt into his throat happily.

But the smaller didn’t do such thing. Instead he murmured in Sun’s ear, his unexpectedly deep voice sending a shiver down Sun’s spine.

“Now tell me, All-Knowing-Sun, what hearsay can you dawn for me? Orbiting around only Earth provides little knowledge of the rest of the system.”

Sun, a little disappointed they weren’t talking about themselves, lifted an eyebrow and closed the distance between their faces even further, leaning down to Moon’s ear to speak suggestively.

“Well,” he muttered dramatically, pulling a giggle from Moon. “You see Jupiter over there?”

Sun led their dance in a half circle so Moon could see over his shoulder at the giant young man standing at the edge of the circle anxiously. Moon hummed a confirmation. Sun continued,

“He’s been pining over Venus for a very, very long time now—”

“I know that, Sun,” Moon interrupted slyly. “Jupiter is too timid to confess. You’ve got to give me something more than that.”

“No, no,” Sun reassured calmly, rejoicing in the nearness of Moon and his breath. “I’ve convinced that damn Chanyeol to formally confess and court Venus.”

“Oh really?”

“Really. And I’m absolutely, one hundred percent sure that Baekhyun will accept.”

Sun could feel Moon smile against his shoulder. “That’s wonderful. It’s about time, don’t you think?”

Sun leaned back so he could look Moon in his wide eyes. Yes, he thought, it’s about time…

Others had begun to fill in around them, flooding the stage of light and cosmos. Behind them Jupiter and Venus waltzed in cosmic circles chattering away.

But Sun was distracted then by Moon’s sudden change of tone. The smaller had turned his head away and guilt and regret marred his previously happy expression.

“Sun…”

“What is it, my love?” the star asked, concerned.

Moon cringed. “I…I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry Sun. I’ve been unkind to you, unfair.”

Sun frowned, careful not to step all over Moon’s feet as they swayed through the court. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. I love you more than anything, really! But I’ve hurt you, our souls haven’t connected for years.” Regretful, Moon hid his face under his obsidian bangs and in Sun’s shoulder.

Sun held Moon tighter, his heart beating wildly. “Don’t worry Moon. It’s only been nine thousand years; we still have many eclipses to come.”

“Nine thousand years I could have spent with you,” Moon wallowed quietly.

Oh no. Sun couldn’t have Moon blaming himself like this again. It was this terrible frame of mind that caused Moon to draw away from others.

Sun treaded carefully but surely. He asked, “Well, where were you?”

“Tending to Earth,” Moon admitted. “My first and foremost duty is to him, and every chance I got I cared for him…I…I hated seeing him so sick. I’m sorry Sun, I really am. I do love you.”

Sun swooped around another couple and stared unwaveringly into Moon’s round eyes. He almost had the tendency to laugh. “Moon! Do not fret over something like that. Your duty to Earth, your Warden planet, is your pride and honor, is it not?”

“It…is.”

“Earth is a parent to billions—trillions!—an endless number of lives. Animals, humans, other life forms. It is important to him to sustain all that life. Of our entire solar system he is the epitome of life itself!”

“But he’s dying,” Moon whispered, pain etching into the unhappy lines around his lips.

“Precisely the reason why you should not be feeling any regret for your actions. I could never dislike you for what you’ve done.”

“Well…but I—”

“Shh,” Sun soothed. “Just enjoy this celebration—our celebration. And look at Jupiter: that grin. I’ll bet he’s the happiest planet in the room.”

Moon chuckled. “I think I know who the happiest star is, hm?”

Sun raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh? And what about the happiest moon: who might that be?”

Moon quirked his head to the side. “I think you know.”

Sun wasn’t sure how many songs passed, how many parades of fanciful dance enlightened the space, but hours of frolicking around among cheers and laughter, speech and talk and touch, zipped by without him even having a chance to document it in his mind.

Moon had excused himself a while ago, and Sun presumed he’d gone off to take care of Earth…

But now the gala was coming to a close and Sun needed, absolutely needed to say goodbye!

Sun strode out of the hall and onto the courtyard, the mass expanse of glittering stars above them and a large solar system—their solar system—floating in the distance. Sun walked with a purpose in his step, eyes scavenging the gardens for a sight of his love. Moon wouldn’t leave without letting him know, right? That was preposterous.

As the star whirled throughout the gardens panic slowly carved down deep into his bones. Unease creased his brow—where was Moon?

Then there was something that caught his ear. A voice: Proxima Centauri—Taemin—sounded upset, angry even. His sharp voice passed through the fauna and Sun discerned a few words:

“Earth!...Moon…shameful…How could you?...”

Immediately Sun traipsed through the grounds in search of Centauri’s voice, puzzled. Moon had to be with him.

He wasn’t wrong.

Around the back of the hall under the cover of two hazelnut trees stood Centauri, face red and furious fists clenched at his sides. Off to the side loomed Earth looking upset and worn, troubled.

And there was Moon on the ground between them on his knees with his head hung low, hands folded safely in his lap. Sun’s stomach dropped.

“Do you have no shame for your crimes?” the star was hissing at the moon. “How could you dilute your magnificence this way? It’s an insult.”

“Do not blame him for this,” Earth interrupted, his voice tight and trembling with anger. “He did it for me, he was only doing what he thought was right.”

“But it’s not right!” Centauri snapped back. “And you—you are as much to blame for this as he is, for allowing him to do it! How could you let him be so immature and misbehaved?”

“Then blame me! Do not berate my moon this way!”

“Silence!” Sun’s voice sliced through the pavilion like a heated blade through water. All but Moon’s eyes flew to him, startled. “Centauri, Earth—what is this crime you speak of?”

Centauri looked taken aback, being under such harsh attention of Sun. To enrage a star was to enrage a force of nature and power—though he and Sun were on somewhat even ground. He stood straighter. “Sun, brother—control your subjects. These two have exercised rude misconduct.”

Sun stepped closer and frowned, ready to ask what was going on, but Earth beat him to it.

“My moon has done no misconduct!” he defended.

“What has he done?” Sun inserted sharply, quickly dropping to a crouch beside Moon’s kneeling figure and wrapping a protective arm around his shoulders. Then gently, “What have you done, Moon?”

Centauri barked, “Your Moon, Sun, has given a piece of his soul away to Earth—to Earth’s people.”

The garden fell silent. Sun felt Moon tremble beneath his arm just before he ripped himself out of Sun’s embrace, reestablishing his kneeling position facing both stars as he fell into a full bow: forehead to hands to brick, his back curved over like a turtle shell. He appealed:

“I gave a part of my soul to the human population in an attempt to remedy Earth’s sickness. I do not wish to see my Warden planet suffer and I am only trying to restore the natural balance. I do not regret my decision.”

Moon looked so small, so miniscule kneeling there. Sun wanted to pick him up, reveal his face, protect him.

“You do know what that means, don’t you Sun?” Centauri seethed, his gaze disapproving as he peered down at Moon. “Your Moon has diluted himself. He’s given part of his existence to the human people; his energy is that of a mutt.”

Sun’s normally warm eyes became a threatening cold as he stood slowly to meet Centauri’s eyes. “I appreciate you making an appearance at this celebration, but I must ask you to leave. These two are in my solar system and I am their Warden; this matter is strictly between Earth and Moon. You have no authority to disparage my subjects this way.”

“What he has done is belittling of his planet and his star; why would he ever give up a part of himself to something so destructive and naïve as the human race? This moon seemed so evolved, I’m offended he would choose the homo sapiens over his true self.”

Sun jerked his chin in a challenge; “And what if I was to give a piece of my soul to the humans? Would I be so wretched then?”

His question caught them all off guard. Centauri’s brow furrowed in thought and to the side, Earth’s eyes narrowed. Moon did not lift his head, but his eyes opened and he glanced at Sun out of the corner of his vision in intrigue.

Centauri spluttered, “W-Well…stars would be forever pure. It wouldn’t matter.”

“Then why is it so different for this moon? The universe is an equilibrium Centauri—those who seek superiority over others are the less evolved. Do not be offended by another’s desire to mend peace. This moon’s heart is worth ten of your souls. I advise you to return to your system and evaluate your existence: decide what true value is. Now please, leave.”

“And he did,” Sun finished, his eyes glazed and peering out over the cliff of dust into the sea of the nebula. His face was the most intense tide of emotion and strain Kyungsoo had ever seen. He still seemed to be enveloped in another conscious reality, reminiscing a memory still pigmented bright red in his timeline.

The little human man beside couldn’t help but study his face in wonder. He hadn’t noticed that over the course of the storytelling he’d moved impossibly closer to Sun’s magnetic self, attracted to the warmth. He pursed his lips then asked,

“Sun, what exactly happens when a galactic being gives a piece of their soul away? I mean…what happened to Moon’s soul?”

Sun’s gaze slid over to Kyungsoo’s endlessly curious face, apprehension present in the lines in his serious expression. He was impossibly still and he looked almost scared as he spoke. “The part of Moon’s soul that he gave away became human.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes bulged. “Human? Really real human?”

Sun smiled softly, nodding. “He shares Moon’s energy but lost all recognition that he was in fact a piece of a galactic body. Moon’s human form lost all memory, in essence. I haven’t connected with Moon’s raw soul form since that day, either because his energy is too weakened or because he’s avoiding me…I suspect it’s the latter.” His face contorted into something remorseful and sad. “Moon was so ashamed of what he had done even though he believed in his decision. Since then he figured he was so unworthy of my love that he withdrew completely and refuses to see me at all. I feel horrendous—that day I tried to console him and let him know that I would never cease to love him, but he wouldn’t hear it. He hated his display of submission in front of me; he felt humiliated. All I wanted to do was kiss him and love him and prove that I could love him no less. But that’s the curse of loving a two-sided coin: I had to rise then and left him with Earth.”

Kyungsoo waited for more, for Sun to continue.

He didn’t.

Kyungsoo’s heart fell. He wasn’t sure why—maybe it was because Sun’s story end seemed so incomplete and open-ended. It was like a storybook with the last few pages ripped out; it was Jack and the Beanstalk reaching its end as soon as he encountered the giant or Goldilocks’ last page before the bears even came home. It felt wrong.

Maybe there was something else: love was something that had forever evaded Kyungsoo’s life. He’d never crushed on anyone, never had any sort of romantic affection from anyone at all, and was always there when someone’s love life collapsed in front of them. No one had loved Do Kyungsoo like Sun clearly loved Moon…at least that he remembered. And to think that this soul that has lived for nearly five billion years, who had seen all kinds of births and deaths, creations and destructions, would be so distraught and upheaved by none other than the concept of love itself. Love which has endangered and corrupted and fascinated the humans has touched base with the heart of their solar system: and Sun is at a fall out.

“Do you miss him?” Kyungsoo whispered.

“Immensely.”

Kyungsoo shifted where he sat, all sorts of ideas and images dancing in silhouetted shadows throughout his mind’s acre. “It seems like you have more to tell. Those are wonderful memories, really, but I feel like there’s…more.”

Sun grinned. “Oh yes. I have four billion years’ worth of memories of Moon and me. There is a lot more.”

So as Sun and Kyungsoo lay down in their cloud of space dust, admiring stars and systems from afar, Sun told Kyungsoo the stories.

All of them.

The narratives continued on and on, took place on dozens of planets and told thousands of tales of mischievous, enlightened love. They were humorous stories, endearing stories, and sad stories. Sun told Kyungsoo of the pain of death and the pain of heartbreak as well as the happiness of acceptance and understanding. Moon was Sun’s ultimate savior and vice versa: Sun told Kyungsoo of how he’d fallen for Moon’s softness of character and his steeliness of resolve. For Sun his existence had consisted of that alone: existence. In the beginning it was only about life and the movement of souls through space. When Moon shared with Sun the ideas of humans, things changed.

Kyungsoo lost track of time: he never tired or craved hunger, was never bored of the stories or annoyed with Sun. He felt as if he needed to be glued to the other man; the taller’s magnitude of simply being was incredible and Kyungsoo found comfort within it. He found comfort in the realization that his childhood fantasies of stars and moons and planets, of space and time travel, had all come to pass this day. With stories in his head, stars in his eyes, and a warm soul beside him, he was in bliss.

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