Wonwoo supposes he knows how Actaeon, that poor Greek hunter, felt, when he was torn to death by his own hounds.

He'd seen a god, and now there's no turning back. He hears the dogs baying everywhere he goes; on empty streets, in the office parking-lot, in the darkened corners of his own apartment. Everywhere and anywhere, his desire threatens to crawl over his skin until it's visible in his gaze. That would be it. The sweet, gentle god would be able to tell with a mere glance the sheer adoration that Wonwoo holds in his heart, and he'd tear him to shreds.

The contrast between the sacred and the profane is startling. How someone so heavenly can sit in the same intolerable office chairs as everyone else, curl his fingers around half-empty coffee mugs like it's ambrosia itself, laugh and converse with his colleagues as if he were just like them- mundane, approachable, conventional. It's almost as if he doesn't realise that the cut of his jaw has the determined set of Zeus, or that his laugh- that frequent, elated laugh- is sweeter than Apollo's beloved lyre. The curves of his lips will rewrite history, and he's not even aware.

Wonwoo watches him. It's not something he can stop, not now, not since the first day he saw him. The pale electric light of the hallway had fanned around his form like angel-wings, like a halo, and he'd smiled. Tall in his effortless grace, suit crisp and tailored to the lines of his body. Wonwoo had known, instantly, that he was something different, something transcendent. That's how we know a god, you see- when amazement strikes us suddenly, when we know that it is something we will never be able to touch, to change.

Mingyu. God of the unholy, god of the workers. God of determination and confidence. God of smiles that always reach his eyes. Wonwoo knows he should feel guilty at his gaze landing on him so often, but he's powerless in his amazement, a lone hunter transfixed by beauty.

He'd spoken to him, once.

Looking back, that may have been the catalyst to all this heart-aching yearning. There's nothing more frightening than meeting a god face-to-face, after all, and nothing quite so addictive.

Wonwoo had been making his way back down to the server room, a company-issued laptop clutched in his hands, when Mingyu had stepped through the door he was about to reach for. He'd jerked back, computer almost slipping from his trembling fingers as he tried to look anywhere else but the man's face, a pang of terror wracking through him because he was too close, too close and maybe Mingyu might see something in his expression or his body-language that'd give him away.

"Sorry, man" The soft, low voice had apologised. Apologised. Like he didn't have he world in his hands. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Wonwoo had swallowed hard- he remembers this vividly, because at the time he'd been furious at himself for doing it. Nervous tick or no nervous tick, it hinted at fear, at secrecy, that there was something happening under the surface.

There was a light chuckle in front of him, "Hey, are you alright? You look like a rabbit in headlights."

When Wonwoo still didn't reply, the man had reached out and touched his arm.

The laptop clattered to the floor. The harsh bang finally spurred Wonwoo into action.

"Shoot." He cursed, dropping to retrieve the computer. He'd glanced over it- apart from a few scratches to the plastic, no essential components seemed to have been damaged, thank God- and when he straightened up he caught Mingyu regarding him with an amused curl to his lips. It was soft, somewhat affectionate, and Wonwoo found he couldn't look away as his gut twisted with want.

"Oh, I recognise you." Mingyu had stated, suddenly, and Wonwoo's heart had stopped dead in his chest, mid-thump. "You work in IT, don't you?"

"Yeah," Was all that left Wonwoo's lips in reply, but it was enough. Now that'd he'd said something, now that he'd broken through that barrier, his emotions bubbled up in his throat like water. Like he needed to spill out the months of adoration and idolatry, the words of worship, or he'd end up drowning in them. Instead, he swallowed them down, adding a superfluous, "Yeah, I do."

And that had been it. Mingyu had grinned that dangerous, divine grin, patted Wonwoo amiably on the shoulder with a comment to "Keep up the hard work", and was on his way.

To this day, Wonwoo lies awake at night remembering the warmth of that touch through the material of his shirt. The way, like freezing water, it seemed to shock to the very core, the very centre of his being. He spends the fire-painted evenings with his head in his hands, wondering just when this unforgiving influence on him will relent. Mingyu had become the world, and he knows, in his heart of hearts, that no amount of turning his eyes to heaven will release him from it's clutches.

He's doomed. Moved to desiring what is untouchable at the price of sacrificing his own soul. But he knows that this is the only reverence he will ever need; no other devotion will ever feel this illuminated, this tangible, this torturous.

Wonwoo worships. He hears the dogs, howling-

and lets them come.

Inspired by the Greek myth of Artemis and Actaeon (one of my absolute favourites<3)
This is the first thing I've uploaded this year... I'm terribly sorry for making everyone wait so long. Now it's summer, updates to my stories should be a little more frequent!

(Also follow me on tumblr! Ask me things! Whatever you like! I love interacting with you guys<3 <3)