blessed be the mystery of love
May. 14th, 2024 02:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
paglambingfandom: riize
pairing: sungchan/wonbin
rating: teen
word count: 773
other tags: god/human AU, greek mythology inspired, open/ambiguous ending
A/N: once again trying to get back into the swing of writing by making something low-stakes! i've been into riize lately, so here's some syongnen :)
♥︎
1
Bearing witness to a god is uncommon, if not rare.
Sungchan is not a devout follower of any deity, choosing to pray by necessity, but he has seen this particular face in one of the temples before.
(With a face that beautiful, how could he forget?)
Their eyes meet and Sungchan looks away so fast his neck cracks. It is rude to stare, even worse towards a god. His eyes could be plucked out of their sockets if he isn’t careful. Maybe even worse. Regardless, he doesn’t want to stick around and find out.
He weaves through the market crowd, away from the beautiful god. He wants to forget. He tries to. He buys the mead as he was told—his father’s birthday, a reason to indulge—and goes home.
(That night, Sungchan dreams of blond hair, lithe limbs, and heat in his belly like he’s never known before.)
2
They keep meeting.
Sungchan would be silly to think that a god would orchestrate these encounters. Gods have no need for mortal company, unless there is a feast or a desire for entertainment. At best, mortals become devotees, like Artemis and her huntresses. At worst, mortals become playthings, collateral damage in the games between the gods.
Sungchan sees him again the next time he goes to the market, then when he’s crossing the street, then outside a temple.
They don’t talk. The god only looks at him and quirks a smile. (A smile Sungchan carries with him even in his sleep.)
He doesn’t mean to seek the god out on purpose; his gaze is drawn to him right away, as though there is some force controlling him. The more Sungchan looks, the more he is able to commit the god’s face to memory.
Eros, he later learns, is the god’s name. The god of love, of desire, of physical attraction. And desire is right—Sungchan wants.
He wants, wholeheartedly, to touch the god, to be close to him, but he knows he isn’t allowed. Eros glows and Sungchan is only human. A moth drawn to a flame, et cetera.
(He wakes up one day to a pendant by his bedside. It is perfect pure gold, fashioned into a rose. There is no one in his family that owns something like this—it’s too luxurious, too out of their reach even as an heirloom. He would have known if someone came into his room at night, however, and doesn’t remember anyone coming in at all.
He keeps the pendant in a pouch in his drawer. There is no sign of his god—his, Sungchan, really, get a grip—until two weeks later.)
3
Being the object of a god’s affections is like walking a tightrope.
Sungchan knows the stories—of mortals turning into trees, into stardust, into flowers. Gaining an affection so powerful means there is so much more for him to lose.
Eros—or Wonbin, as he wants Sungchan to call him—keeps him for himself. He brings Sungchan to hidden places: the back of his temple, a field near tall trees for shade, a cave-like structure near Sungchan’s own home that he has never seen before.
(Sungchan may be kept as a secret from everyone else, but not from the gods. The gods hardly have any secrets to keep between them with mortal affairs. They see all.)
The day is cool and windy and Wonbin presses his arm into Sungchan’s. They’re under the shade of a tree in the field.
“Did you not like the pendant?”
Sungchan looks at Wonbin. His eyes are so round. “Hm?”
“The gold rose.”
“Oh. That was from you?”
“Yes. Roses are my sacred flower.”
“I kept it somewhere safe. I didn’t want to lose it.”
“I would like to see you wear it,” Wonbin says. He presses the tips of his fingers into Sungchan's chest, right below his collarbone. “It would look beautiful here.”
Sungchan stills. His heartbeat thrums in his ears; Wonbin could probably feel it through the thinness of his shirt.
Wonbin looks up at him and smiles. (The same smile Sungchan carries with him when he sleeps.)
Sungchan smiles back, nervous. He burns under the god’s gaze.
Then Wonbin laughs. “Your ears are red,” he says.
Sungchan clears his throat and covers his ears. Wonbin’s hand falls away from his chest.
“It’s okay.”
It is okay. Sungchan knows this—love and desire come in different forms, and Wonbin’s is clear. Raw. Honest. But Sungchan also knows that this love must come at a price.
(He waits for the day a jealous god catches him unaware and Wonbin turns him into some flora or other.
Waits for the day Wonbin will, inevitably, leave.)
pairing: sungchan/wonbin
rating: teen
word count: 773
other tags: god/human AU, greek mythology inspired, open/ambiguous ending
A/N: once again trying to get back into the swing of writing by making something low-stakes! i've been into riize lately, so here's some syongnen :)
1
Bearing witness to a god is uncommon, if not rare.
Sungchan is not a devout follower of any deity, choosing to pray by necessity, but he has seen this particular face in one of the temples before.
(With a face that beautiful, how could he forget?)
Their eyes meet and Sungchan looks away so fast his neck cracks. It is rude to stare, even worse towards a god. His eyes could be plucked out of their sockets if he isn’t careful. Maybe even worse. Regardless, he doesn’t want to stick around and find out.
He weaves through the market crowd, away from the beautiful god. He wants to forget. He tries to. He buys the mead as he was told—his father’s birthday, a reason to indulge—and goes home.
(That night, Sungchan dreams of blond hair, lithe limbs, and heat in his belly like he’s never known before.)
2
They keep meeting.
Sungchan would be silly to think that a god would orchestrate these encounters. Gods have no need for mortal company, unless there is a feast or a desire for entertainment. At best, mortals become devotees, like Artemis and her huntresses. At worst, mortals become playthings, collateral damage in the games between the gods.
Sungchan sees him again the next time he goes to the market, then when he’s crossing the street, then outside a temple.
They don’t talk. The god only looks at him and quirks a smile. (A smile Sungchan carries with him even in his sleep.)
He doesn’t mean to seek the god out on purpose; his gaze is drawn to him right away, as though there is some force controlling him. The more Sungchan looks, the more he is able to commit the god’s face to memory.
Eros, he later learns, is the god’s name. The god of love, of desire, of physical attraction. And desire is right—Sungchan wants.
He wants, wholeheartedly, to touch the god, to be close to him, but he knows he isn’t allowed. Eros glows and Sungchan is only human. A moth drawn to a flame, et cetera.
(He wakes up one day to a pendant by his bedside. It is perfect pure gold, fashioned into a rose. There is no one in his family that owns something like this—it’s too luxurious, too out of their reach even as an heirloom. He would have known if someone came into his room at night, however, and doesn’t remember anyone coming in at all.
He keeps the pendant in a pouch in his drawer. There is no sign of his god—his, Sungchan, really, get a grip—until two weeks later.)
3
Being the object of a god’s affections is like walking a tightrope.
Sungchan knows the stories—of mortals turning into trees, into stardust, into flowers. Gaining an affection so powerful means there is so much more for him to lose.
Eros—or Wonbin, as he wants Sungchan to call him—keeps him for himself. He brings Sungchan to hidden places: the back of his temple, a field near tall trees for shade, a cave-like structure near Sungchan’s own home that he has never seen before.
(Sungchan may be kept as a secret from everyone else, but not from the gods. The gods hardly have any secrets to keep between them with mortal affairs. They see all.)
The day is cool and windy and Wonbin presses his arm into Sungchan’s. They’re under the shade of a tree in the field.
“Did you not like the pendant?”
Sungchan looks at Wonbin. His eyes are so round. “Hm?”
“The gold rose.”
“Oh. That was from you?”
“Yes. Roses are my sacred flower.”
“I kept it somewhere safe. I didn’t want to lose it.”
“I would like to see you wear it,” Wonbin says. He presses the tips of his fingers into Sungchan's chest, right below his collarbone. “It would look beautiful here.”
Sungchan stills. His heartbeat thrums in his ears; Wonbin could probably feel it through the thinness of his shirt.
Wonbin looks up at him and smiles. (The same smile Sungchan carries with him when he sleeps.)
Sungchan smiles back, nervous. He burns under the god’s gaze.
Then Wonbin laughs. “Your ears are red,” he says.
Sungchan clears his throat and covers his ears. Wonbin’s hand falls away from his chest.
“It’s okay.”
It is okay. Sungchan knows this—love and desire come in different forms, and Wonbin’s is clear. Raw. Honest. But Sungchan also knows that this love must come at a price.
(He waits for the day a jealous god catches him unaware and Wonbin turns him into some flora or other.
Waits for the day Wonbin will, inevitably, leave.)
