The first time Luhan takes Minseok to the Underworld, Minseok doesn’t take off his wreath made of flowers. He wears it proudly, his only reminiscence of the world he used to call home. Luhan lets him leave lilies, rosemaries and marigolds, knowing they’ll all fade as soon as they walk inside of his kingdom. But as the screams and howls of terror welcome them, neither does the darkness of Luhan’s home nor does his touch over the petals weaken them.

And as Minseok looks over his shoulder to the Styx, white robes dancing around his knees and gold on his fingers, does Luhan truly realize what he has done, the beauty he stole.

~

At first Minseok refuses to talk with the god, spends his time wandering around the pits, with Luhan watching him from afar. He doesn’t offer sympathy to the punished ones, knowing it’s their deeds in the human world that made them suffer now. He’s heard stories about the ruthless god of the dead, the torments one must go through when arriving into the world he set, but nothing about mortals being punished for reasons that may seem unfair or deceitful.

 Luhan was fair.

 Minseok laughs at the though and Luhan, utterly oblivious, can only think of the bells in the wind.

~

 “Do you know why you’re here?”

Minseok shakes his head and lets out a soft sigh. A strand of gold hair falls in his face, flowers in his hair rustling.

“If you think I’m keeping you hostage, you’re wrong.”

Minseok looks up, amused. “Then why? Are you giving me a tour maybe?”

Luhan doesn’t catch on the humor; he gives Minseok a perplexed look, shaking his head. “You’re here as my consort.”

“Oh”

“Yes”

Minseok raises his hand and Luhan almost steps back, flinching from the other’s touch he, at the same time, craves for so badly.  But the boy uses it to fix the wreath on his head, securing it with his fingers.

“If that’s how it must be, then I insist you show me your kingdom. It would be rather unfortunate for the dead not to meet their future ruler, wouldn’t it?”

~

Luhan wasn’t lucky to have Minseok; if Luck was in any way by Luhan’s side, he wouldn’t had split the earth in half and taken Minseok by waist into his carriage. And Minseok had resisted, fought against Luhan’s strong grip and glared when Luhan had seated him by his side, only for him to be smiling so wide at the three-headed dog now, that Luhan can simply blame the madness called love for these illusions playing before him.

~

Luhan takes him to Acheron first.

“I thought souls go to Tartar mostly.”

“Only the most evil ones go to Tartar and the kindest end up on the fields of Elysium. People for most of their lives don’t do enough to end up in either of the two, so they walk aimlessly on the shores of Acheron for the rest of eternity, doing what they enjoyed the most during their mortal years.”

“I think that’s fair.”

Luhan doesn’t hide the surprise in his voice when he asks, “You do?”

“I do,” Minseok says, “and that’s how I would like to spend the rest of my immortal life as well.”

“I could make that possible for you. Stay here with me.”

Minseok looks up and finds the god’s face, almost laughs at how ridiculously determined he looks, but sees nothing more than a caged child under the heavy cloaks with eyes dark as the edge of the skies. Holding onto one of the rocks that surround the gates of a world Minseok doesn’t know yet, he offers his hand for Luhan to take. He doesn’t make promises, not yet.

“Shall we go?”

~

Before they enter Tartar Luhan tells him, “I’m sorry you have to see this.”

Minseok doesn’t answer him, only gives a reassuring nod of his head.

With wavering hands Luhan opens the gates. Minseok welcomes the screams with a twisted smile.

~

Then came the Fields of Elysium. Luhan doesn’t feel brave, but still he puts his hand on the young man’s shoulder, watching as the ever bright flowers absorb the sun, Minseok’s skin glistening above the hem of his tunic, arms greeting the lyre passed over to him. With bright eyes he shows the instrument to Luhan, pleading, making Luhan chuckle.

“You may.”

Minseok manages to murmur quick words of gratitude before he runs off to join a group of young girls and immortal heroes. He jumps into a song about the moon and the stars, and the sun chasing them forever. Minseok’s fingers work skillfully over the lyre, following an easy rhythm the song had set.

It’s when they finish the song that someone passes him a pomegranate and Minseok stares curiously at the fruit given to him. The girl sitting across him points at the fruit and says, “It was the lord himself who wanted you to have it. It’s only one of the best in the gardens of Elysium, nothing you have ever tasted before.”

Minseok looks at the fruit, than at the girl again.

“But I mustn’t…”

The girl frowns. “It would be very disrespectful to refuse something the lord of the dead himself had gifted to you.”

“But that’s the problem,” Minseok looks over his shoulder at the god who seems to be too distracted talking with an older man, “I am not dead.”

~

Even though it was the world he created for himself, Luhan still feels very out of place in the Fields. His dark robes are mesmerizing, hair pinned back with a silver comb, a bright yellow dandelion resting between his fingers. Minseok takes his time in studying the way light fits the darkness, spring hugs the winter and creates a paradox that makes his fingers tingle, chest heavy with the unknown.

Seasons pass and the Fields are still theirs.

~

It shouldn’t be a surprise for Luhan to see Sehun, the boy with gold wings on his helmet and sandals, as they exit the fields. Luhan’s ready to spill curses, throw the messenger out of his kingdom along with the smug expression he wears, but Minseok stops him with a hand on his wrist.

“There’s a family I have to get back to,” Minseok says. He turns to face Luhan, pushing the boundaries by placing his hand on the side of Luhan’s face, the god’s skin frigid under the spring of Minseok’s fingers. Luhan doesn’t lean his head into it, but takes the man’s hand in his, placing it over his chest.

“I can’t let you leave me as long as my heart beats like this when you look at me. Rule by my side, my love, and I promise to give you everything the darkness of my kingdom holds.”

 A pretty blush stains Minseok’s cheeks, but thanks the lords above his voice doesn’t waver when he says, “My mother can’t live without me as well. Don’t make me choose.”

“It was chosen for you already, Minseok. The crops are dying and people are hungry, all because a certain someone couldn’t keep his hands off what isn’t his.”

Luhan takes pleasure in ignoring the young god in favor of tangling his free hand through the gold of Minseok’s hair, tucking a strand behind his ear. “I’ll even let you wear flowers in your hair.”

This time Minseok doesn’t hold back and laughs and laughs till Luhan joins him as well. With his hand still in Minseok’s hair, Luhan takes the opportunity to pull Minseok closer, their lips a whisper apart.

“He’s right,” Minseok says for Sehun not to hear, “chosen it was for me.”

Luhan smirks. “Then so be it.” 

When they kiss, Luhan can only think how Minseok’s lips taste of pomegranates.

~

Luhan’s never been a patient god, but for Minseok he waits and waits till the days grow shorter, nights longer, and Minseok crosses Styx with flowers in his arms. And never without Luhan does Minseok place them in his hair, the god choosing only what fits best with the stars on his skin and skies in his eyes.

And now everytime Minseok leaves their kingdom, he doesn’t take off his wreath made of wild flowers, thorns and ivy. He wears it proudly, his only reminiscence of the world he now calls home.

edit: I recently received a beautiful fanart (by defnotxiuhantrash) based on this fic, so everybody please check it out since I'm still screaming over it