Autumn 3/3

Junhong slumbered peacefully on Yongguk’s lap as the god watched over him, admiring his beauty. For Yongguk, time had always passed quickly, but as the sun rose high in the sky, he found himself hoping that time would stop, so Junhong could rest for longer.

Eventually, the shade of the tree couldn’t stop the sun from shining in Junhong’s face, and he woke up slowly, a quiet yawn escaping his mouth as he stretched.

He wasn’t shocked to see Yongguk when he opened his eyes, only smiling sleepily up at him. Yongguk didn’t think he could ever tire of how his lips curved and his face softened.

“Have you forgotten your promise?” the nymph asked, his voice low after he had just woken up. Yongguk couldn’t help but think about waking up beside Junhong in the future, and hearing that voice mumble for him to stay in bed. He immediately berated himself for thinking too far ahead.

“How could I forget the moment I’ve been looking forward to for hours?” Yongguk questioned, clasping their hands together before brushing his lips over Junhong’s forehead again. The nymph’s eyes closed, and his lips curved into a smile, which stayed even as Yongguk parted.

“I want to wake like this every morning,” the nymph announced as he sat up, and Yongguk’s eyes widened momentarily at his bluntness. Junhong noticed his reaction, and realised what his words alluded to, a bright blush immediately covering his cheeks. He looked down, stammering, “I-I did not mean –!”

“Do not fret,” Yongguk laughed, and the nymph hid his face in his hands. “I do not think I have ever felt as close to anyone, as I do with you,” the god confessed quietly. Junhong looked up and smiled.

“I feel the same,” he said. He hesitated, before creating a flower crown from mid-air, the same one he had created yesterday. Yongguk watched in amazement, as Junhong presented the white crown to him shyly, biting his bottom lip, as if he thought the god wouldn’t accept it.

The thought of rejecting the gift was ridiculous, especially when Yongguk could see the time Junhong had taken to weave the flower stalks together, combining the colours of the forest. All for him. Yongguk had never seen the white flowers before, and realised – with shock – that they were new. Junhong had created a new species for him.

He lowered his head so Junhong could place the crown atop his head.

In the Underworld, he had thousands of jewelled crowns, all more worth than any human’s wealth on the Surface. Yet, Junhong’s crown was the one which made him feel the most powerful, especially since the nymph lit up with joy when he realised Yongguk accepted his gift.

“You are beautiful, my lord,” the forest spirit said honestly.

“I am honoured you created this for me,” Yongguk replied, his hand reaching out to clasp the other’s hand. Junhong was wearing his own flower crown, decorated with pale pink flora.

Perhaps he was thinking too far ahead, but the crowns seemed like a promise of forever.

Before he could forget, Yongguk apologised for being late last night, and supplied his reason why – although Junhong forgave him quickly. Yongguk was unable to hide his feelings towards the rest of the Gods, and their conversation soon turned to his siblings.

Junhong already knew a lot about his sister and brother, most likely from folklore, but he was fascinated to learn that they were just like any other family, with arguments and disputes.

“You dislike your brother?” he asked Yongguk, surprised. His mouth was open, and he looked surprised. Many people usually were; they thought that as the gods were as old as time, they would have eventually run out of things to fight about.

Yet, even after hundreds of millennia, Yongnam still prodded his younger brother for being the God of Death, telling him that he killed everything he touched, and that no one would ever love him. The reason why Yongguk had not returned to the Surface in centuries was because of Yongnam. He could not stand to look any living being in the eye, knowing that his touch could kill them instantly, if his control just slipped.

The lord scowled, “I despise him.”

Junhong blinked, unable to hide his curiosity. In his nine hundred years, he had never met the Lord of the Seas, despite the beach being on the other side of the village. He often wondered if the seas were as empty of fish, as his forests were empty of animals.

“Why?”

“He is cruel,” Yongguk said shortly, and he pulled his hand away from Junhong as he tried to calm the hatred that surfaced whenever he was reminded of his brother. “He plays with both mortals and gods, as if they were his own toys.”

“Truly?”

“I would not lie to you,” the god sighed softly, resignation in his voice. He touched Junhong’s knee gently, “He will not harm you. I will make sure of it.”

“I trust you,” the nymph said, without a moment’s hesitation. “Is your relationship with your sister better?”

“Much better. She and I rarely fight,” he noticed Junhong’s shoulders lift, as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders. “Was something worrying you?”

Junhong smiled shyly and shook his head, “I am just relieved both the Lady of the Skies and the Lord of the Underworld are kind.”

“Perhaps I am only kind to you,” Yongguk teased, but he knew there was a truth in his words. It was no secret that he was kinder to Junhong than he had been to any mortal before. He could even have been considered cruel to some, although he tried his best to remain impartial.

Other than Himchan, Junhong was the only mortal he had ever even liked.

Still, he was surprised when Junhong frowned at his words, even if he was joking.

“You lie,” the nymph decided. “I know you are kind, my lord. The flowers like you, so you must be.”

The god’s eyebrows raised, amused. “Can they speak?”

“In their own way,” Junhong replied, gently taking a flower from the ground near them. He placed it in Yongguk’s palm. “Flowers are kind too, they offer their beauty for us, even if there is nothing we can give them in return. They recognise one of their own.”

“I do not think the flowers in this forest would survive, without you,” the god said, and Junhong shrugged.

“I do not know. I have never left these forests,” he said. “But flowers are resilient. I think they could last for centuries, if I were to disappear.”

Yongguk did not like where this conversation was going, and he settled a firm hand over Junhong’s. “Nothing will happen to you,” he repeated, and Junhong nodded.

“I know, I know...” He took a deep breath, and Yongguk could sense sadness and loneliness washing over him. “My brother said the same thing to me, once.”

“Were you close?” Yongguk asked quietly, knowing that Junhong may not be willing to speak about him.

“We were,” the nymph said, smiling sadly down at his hands. “He was the nymph of fruit, and he took great joy in creating fruit for the village-people, a long time ago.”

Yongguk stayed silent. He could tell that Junhong did not speak of his brother often, and he was recalling fond memories, perhaps some he had not thought about for years.

“He was a hundred years older than me, but we were still close. I did not look up to anyone in my nymphai as much as I looked up to Junseo,” Junhong smiled sadly. Yongguk wanted nothing more than to pull the younger into an embrace, but he feared that the movement would make the nymph close up. “He kept me safe.”

“If he was half as talented as you in making fruit, as you are in making flowers, then I am sure his skills were greatly valued and greatly missed,” Yongguk said, and Junhong cocked his head in confusion.

“...Did I misspeak?” Yongguk had not seen any fruit, so he had assumed that they had died, along with Junhong’s brother.

The nymph looked up, towards the empty branches of the tree, and immediately frowned. Yongguk was busy thinking about how much he wanted to smooth the crease between his eyebrows, when fruit sprouted from the branches of the tree, and one fell into Junhong’s lap.

“I thought I created more fruit yesterday...” the nymph murmured to himself in thought, but he did not ponder for too long on their sudden disappearance, and offered some of the fruit to Yongguk. “I taught myself the skills of my nymphai, after they were killed,” Junhong said in explanation, at the sight of Yongguk’s surprised expression. The god did not think he was so uneducated in nymph lore, but he had always thought that most nymphs could only polish one skill.

He took a seed from the fruit, and bit down. It immediately burst in his mouth, the sweetness making him hum in pleasure. He reached for another.

“I am still learning, for I am nowhere near Junseo’s skill, yet, but Youngjae tells me that the fruit I make is not awful,” Junhong said, secretly pleased that Yongguk was enjoying himself.

“It is delicious,” Yongguk complimented, laughing as Junhong beamed. “What other skills are you learning?”

“My mother was a water nymph, and my father was a nymph of the trees. My nymphai were the strongest,” Junhong said proudly, and Yongguk softened. How old was Junhong when he parents were murdered, and he was left alone? He did not want to ask, but he could not deny that he was curious.

“Flowers are my strength,” the nymph said, only confirming what Yongguk already knew. He hesitated, and Yongguk assured him silently that he could continue, caressing his face with his hand. It was an intimate action, but not an unwelcome one. He wanted to kiss the soft skin of Junhong’s cheek, but he knew it was not the time.

“It is not a skill with power... I cannot use it to protect myself, or even protect others.” Junhong did not look upset, despite the harshness of his words, and continued on without another moment of hesitation. “But, I find that flowers... they make people happy,” He grinned brightly, “and I think that is powerful, enough.”

After he had said his words, it seemed as if all the flowers in the meadow blossomed, opening their centres and blowing in the wind. Between the flowers and Junhong’s beaming expression, Yongguk didn’t know what to be more in awe of.

Junhong’s smile softened as he stared at the god, and Yongguk couldn’t restrain himself anymore.

He pushed forward and cupped Junhong’s face as he sealed their lips together, his eyes closing. The nymph released a tiny gasp of surprise, but he relaxed into the kiss quickly, letting Yongguk lead. His inexperience was not a secret, and he was not embarrassed by it – he was just as eager as Yongguk. Junhong’s tongue sought the other’s heat, and Yongguk found the nymph’s lips pressing against his own with more force.

The god pushed Junhong onto his back without separating their lips, his hand curving behind the other’s neck before he grasped at his light blond locks. Junhong’s lips were soft and pink, but Yongguk was sure that they would be swollen afterwards, and he would not regret it at all. Yongguk knew he was close to losing control, as their hair and clothes whipped in the wind, but he did not want to stop.

Junhong tasted of fruit and sweetness, of the forest and its freedom. Yongguk had never tasted something so delicious.

He pulled back, forcing himself to calm down. Around them, the wind slowed to a cooling breeze almost immediately; their rumpled tunics and hair were the only evidence of its previous ferocity.

Junhong’s hands fell from Yongguk’s face to the grass, and in a split second, his palms set off an explosion of flowers. They blossomed around the two lovers, until it seemed like they were floating in a sea of pure white and pink.

Junhong’s face was red, and so were his lips – Yongguk could not hide the swell of pride he felt when he saw them, or his overwhelming happiness as Junhong burst out laughing, his eyes forming small crescents as he looked at the effects of the kiss around them.

“You lost control in the most beautiful way,” Yongguk noted, touching a pink petal. They were the same flowers from Junhong’s crown, and the mixed white flowers were from his.

Junhong reached to kiss the corner of Yongguk’s lips, and laced their fingers together, but the god couldn’t help but worry about what could have happened if he had truly lost control, for the weather was only the least of his power.

Whilst it made Yongguk happy to know the nymph trusted him, he was also afraid. He was the greatest threat to any mortal being, whilst Junhong created life. They were opposites, and Junhong deserved so much more than him, but Yongguk had never wanted, or loved, someone so much before.

The skies were bright in the afternoon, but they were shaded by the sturdy fruit tree. Junhong had thought about its name for a long time, and had settled for pomegranate, after Yongguk voiced his approval.

He was resting on Yongguk’s lap again, lazily feeding the other man the seeds, when the god tensed, his shoulders stiffening and his sharp eyes staring at the trees.

“What is the matter?” Junhong questioned, sitting up, and Yongguk’s eyes darkened as a figure ran out into the clearing, towards them. The nymph followed his gaze, and blinked in surprise at the sight of his best friend.

“Junhong!” Youngjae cried, and the nymph perked up, holding Yongguk’s hand and encouraging him to stand.

“Youngjae! You’re back so soon,” he greeted, and Youngjae slowed to a stop in front of them. Junhong noticed his awe, and quickly introduced the two. “My lord, this is my best friend Youngjae. Youngjae... you know who he is,” the nymph blushed, leaving Yongguk to wonder if he had been a common topic of conversation.

“Honoured to be in your presence,” the man murmured, and Yongguk could sense the familiar aura of fear that always surrounded humans whenever he was around.

“The pleasure is mine,” he responded, and Junhong leaned forward to clasp his friend’s hands.

“How did the festival proceed, last night? Did you talk to your prince?” he asked eagerly, his eyes sparkling with hope. “Was he gorgeous and handsome?”

A crease appeared between Yongguk’s eyebrows at the last question, and he was surprised to find that he was jealous, even though he knew jealousy was hardly a useful emotion. The crease only deepened when he noticed that Youngjae flinched after the onslaught of Junhong’s questions. He seemed close to panicking.

“The festival was fine, and Daehyun – he’s not a prince, Junhong – was handsome, but we did not talk,” the human said hurriedly. “Junhong, I cannot stay for long, I only came to tell you that you need to leave. Now.”

“What?” The nymph’s blood ran cold.

Yongguk’s hand found Junhong’s at the sound of his fearful tone. He did not like the sound of whatever Youngjae was saying.

“Hunters are coming,” the human said, eyes darting around, as if afraid they would appear from the forests and descend on the three. “Daehyun’s older brother met a girl last night, whom he intends to court. He will require a feast.” The human said the word with disgust, and Junhong swallowed, immediately starting to tremble.

“But... the forests are already empty,” he said desperately. “Last time, they left nothing behind, Youngjae. This cannot happen.” The pure panic in his voice made Yongguk begin to seethe. He rubbed his thumb over the skin of Junhong’s hand, always so gentle.

Youngjae looked torn, “I know, Junhong. But I am a mere villager, I cannot stop the hunting group from coming, especially when led by the village leader’s eldest son...” He looked upset, “I will try to save some of the animals, but you must leave. You cannot protect yourself in the night.”

“I will not leave these forests,” the nymph refused.

“Your leg is already destroyed, Junhong – you cannot even run if they catch you!” Youngjae cried, and Yongguk could no longer hear anymore.

“Come with me,” he turned to Junhong, eyes filled with sincerity and hope, “to the Underworld, for just one night. You will be safe.”

Junhong looked reluctant, eyes falling to the ground, back where the white and pink flowers intertwined below their feet. “Can’t you just stay here and look over me, like you did last night?”

Youngjae released a strangled sound from his throat, but looked away when Yongguk stared at him, unamused.

“I am required in Olympus early tomorrow morning, and I do not want to leave you when you are sleeping,” he said apologetically, heart seizing when Junhong’s bottom lip wobbled. “It is only for one night, Junhong, and my healer can fix your leg, so you can protect yourself in the days following,” Yongguk promised.

The nymph’s reluctance was easing, and the relief on Youngjae’s face was obvious.

“Okay,” Junhong said quietly, his fear palpable in the air. Parting with his home of nine hundred years, even for a few hours, was undoubtedly frightening.

Yongguk brought him into an embrace, tucking his face into the nymph’s neck and breathing in his natural scent of the forest. Junhong was still shaking, but he seemed to calm down in Yongguk’s hold. Youngjae watched their interaction, a smile lifting the corners of his lips, but he knew he could not stay with them.

“I must go, before anyone notices I’m missing,” he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the two. “Thank you so much though, for looking after Junhong,” he enthused to Yongguk, who simply blinked. He wasn’t trying to do any favours for Youngjae – he only wanted to keep Junhong safe.

“Stay safe,” the human said, tapping the nymph’s shoulder, and Junhong turned to pat his head, running his fingers through the soft strands in a farewell that Yongguk knew was a pattern, before the human was leaving, rushing back in the direction of the village.

Junhong took a shaky breath and stepped back from Yongguk’s hold. He looked around the forest, his home, before setting his sight determinedly, on the god in front of him.

“Take me to the Underworld, my lord,” he murmured, but not unwillingly. Yongguk knew he was simply scared, and he laced their fingers together.

“I promise you will be safe, my nymphling,” he assured, and before Junhong could blink, the sun shining down on them disappeared, and they were enveloped in darkness.

Junhong’s fingers clutched at Yongguk’s desperately, his heart pounding in his chest as his eyes sought out his new surroundings. Adjusting to the light, he felt an odd sensation on his head, which made his lips tug into a frown. He heard a muttered curse from Yongguk mere seconds later, and he froze, turning to the god questioningly.

His frown deepened when he realised his gift for the elder had disappeared. Yongguk carded his fingers through his hair, and sighed exhaustedly at the feeling of ashes from the flower crown.

Junhong mirrored his actions, only to find that his own flower crown had crumbled as well. He realised with horror that his leaf bandage on his leg injury had been ruined in the same way, and the ashes made the open wound sting.

“I’m sorry. I should have remembered,” Yongguk whispered, looking horrified. Even though Junhong was disappointed that his first gift for Yongguk had been disintegrated, he knew it wasn’t the elder’s intention. Wordlessly, he pressed a kiss to the corner of Yongguk’s lips, so the god would know he was not angry. Junhong smiled down at him, before turning to look around.

The Underworld was illuminated by lit torches, since it was below where the sun’s rays could reach, and it was comfortably warm. Junhong had never been without some form of natural light, and the fires were so close - he found himself drawn to them immediately.

Before he could get too close, Yongguk held him back.

“You cannot die in the Underworld, but you can still feel pain,” he said, and Junhong’s attention turned from the fire to his lover.

“I cannot die?” the nymph questioned, and Yongguk nodded.

“In the Underworld, people arrive either dead or alive – they cannot die here,” he explained, beginning to walk in the direction of the torches. “Still, it would be wise not to eat anything if you do not want to be here forever.”

Junhong had heard of that rule from his nymphai before – the Underworld’s foods were sacred, and eating them would trap him there, forever. But if he could not die, then not eating would not be a problem, since he could not starve. Besides, he was only staying here for the night.

The nymph hurried beside his lover, his mouth opening when he saw that Yongguk was heading towards a palace.

A real palace.

Yongguk’s palace.

Junhong had heard stories before, of course. Of the Underworld’s scorching flames that never went out, the constant tortured screaming of sinners that could be heard, and a towering castle on the brink of ruin. Yet, the flames were contained to their torches, Junhong could only hear silence, and the palace was not even close to breaking – it stood tall and proud, just like its king.

“We should both bathe,” Yongguk decided, as they stepped inside, and Junhong’s mouth opened. The entrance was simply a large circular room, but there was a large staircase leading up to the next floor. Even if it was the only staircase he could see, there were other floors – at least twenty – above him.

He was still reeling from shock, that the castle looked so sophisticated, when he had been told all his life that the Underworld was a place of destruction. But he should have known before – Yongguk would obviously not stay somewhere that did not match his regal aura.

“Yongguk!”

Junhong registered a man running down the stairs towards them, and he hid himself behind Yongguk instinctively.

He slowed to a stop in front of them, and Junhong’s eyes widened as he stared at the other. The man was beautiful, with a piercing gaze, plush lips, and cheekbones that must have been sculpted by gods. Junhong did not think he was a god himself, but he exhibited a beauty that far surpassed theirs.

“So you are the nymph who captured Yongguk’s heart,” the man said, the corner of his lips lifting in a teasing grin. “He talked to us endlessly of your beauty and your heart.”

Junhong was speechless. “I-I... But you are so much more beautiful.”

He stared at Yongguk accusingly for not warning him beforehand, and the god laughed, placing his hand on Junhong’s back. Junhong returned to staring at the man. How could Yongguk find anyone attractive, after seeing the person who probably invented beauty?

“I’m Himchan,” he introduced, beaming. Junhong’s gaze finally broke, and he looked at the man next to him, who remained silent.

“He is Jongup,” Himchan introduced the man behind him, holding his arm tightly. Junhong immediately recognised that the two were intimate; but he was surprised to find that the other was definitely a god. He exuded a power that was similar to Yongguk’s, if weaker.

“Jongup is the god of messaging,” Yongguk supplied, when it became obvious that Jongup was not going to speak. “Himchan is my healer, but he was formerly from Atlantis, the land of half-gods.”

“Atlantis!” the nymph exclaimed – he’d thought the island was a myth, a story told to entertain children. A land where gods and humans interacted like equals – with some gods even falling in love with humans and producing offspring.

“It does not exist, anymore, for it sank into the ocean and all of its residents drowned,” Himchan said, his face carefully emotionless. Perhaps it had been millenniums since its disappearance and he was no longer affected, or perhaps he did not want to tell Junhong any details. “I stay here now. Permanently.”

Junhong could not imagine never returning to his home; nothing else filled him with so much fear.

“You... cannot leave?”

“I am like you,” the man answered. “As a semi-mortal, I do not age, but I am still vulnerable to threats. If I remain on the Surface, I would be in more danger than I am here, so I choose not to leave.”

He said it with an air of finality, and Junhong knew better than to ask for details. He couldn’t help but wonder if the man missed the Surface, if he had loved it as much as Junhong loved the forest.

“Himchan, may you look at his leg?” Yongguk asked, gesturing towards the nymph’s wound. Junhong was not standing on it fully, supporting himself on his other leg. The Atlantean peered at it, and a frown appeared on his face at the sight of the ashes.

“He must bathe first, as well. His wound must be clean before I can heal it,” Himchan said, and Yongguk nodded.

“Then we shall bathe together, and you can prepare his room,” the god said, and the other man agreed, pulling Jongup along with him as he flitted to the second level. He was chattering excitedly to his lover as he went up, but Junhong could not hear any response from Jongup.

Yongguk’s words suddenly registered to the nymph, and his eyes widened as he repeated the god’s words, “Bathe together?” Much to Yongguk’s amusement, Junhong blushed prettily, but he did not protest.

“If you do not mind,” Yongguk said. Bathing together would not be an intimate act by any means – it was common practice for siblings, or even friends – but he would be careful not to initiate anything inappropriate. He wanted to make Junhong feel as safe and comfortable as possible in the Underworld.

Junhong nodded, and Yongguk led him towards the springs, which were hidden in a room behind the grand staircase. It would not take long for them to clean up, or for Himchan to heal the nymph’s legs, and he was already making plans to show Junhong around the Underworld, to show him that the stories told on the Surface were lies, and that he had nothing to be afraid of.

Yongguk could only hope Junhong would grow to love the Underworld, perhaps not as much as his forests, but like a second home.

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i know this is a m o n s t e r chapter, but this fic is contained to only 12 chapters and there's just. so much plot :(( the next chapter is actually even bigger, at almost 5.5k, but it's also (in my opinion) a lot more interesting. :) :) :)

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