beneath the light of the neon moon

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/20580926.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: NCT (Band)
Relationship: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong/Nakamoto Yuta, Kim
Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong, Lee Taeyong/Nakamoto Yuta,
Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Nakamoto Yuta
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Mythology, References to Ancient Greek Religion
& Lore, Demigods, basically demigods living in the modern world, Fluff,
Domestic Fluff, Slice of Life, Polyamory, Implied Sexual Content
Series: Part 1 of we'll build our altar here
Stats: Published: 2019-09-09 Words: 8285

beneath the light of the neon moon

by clairdehyun

Summary

“Did you say yes?”

Yuta turned around, a confused brow now prominent on his face. “What are you talking
about?”

Taeyong tilted his head, so that now his palm would accommodate the entirety of the left
side of his face. “Doyoung’s proposal. Did you say yes?”

Notes

hi! just wanted to let you know I have a few more works in mind for this series, which is
basically going to center around a couple of ships/characters that live in the same alternative
demigods universe (kunten and johnjae should be up next and I'm still deciding if I want to
add another one)

hope you enjoy it!

See the end of the work for more notes

It’s a light prickling but it doesn’t burn.

Taeyong is used to it, his fingers wringing slightly into the air where the fire knocks at his skin. He
likes to dwell on the scorching heat of the flames for a while, the wax of the candle trickling hot on
the soil beneath his feet, leaving marble-sized pits of dark dirt, whittled into the ground.

Taeyong knows he’s supposed to pray inside, knows how he needs to delicately place the candles
on the altar’s upper level and pinch the flame to nothingness until only a few faint contrails of
smoke hang heavy and grey in the room. It’s almost blasphemous to be doing this under the starry
sky — forgive me, mother, for you have an ungrateful offspring — but he really has no other
choice that evening.

Doyoung was stuck at work, had called a few hours earlier announcing how royally annoyed he
would be by this sudden increase of extra papers that would keep him away from his boyfriend and
his very much needed soup Taeyong had prepared after heading home that evening.

The thing here was simple: Taeyong didn’t feel comfortable praying alone in his own house. His
very own existence served the purpose of protecting others, keeping the light on and a warm place
for loved ones to come back to, just as his mother had taught him. When Doyoung wasn’t home to
be the receiving end of his affection and blessing, he preferred sneaking out in his yard, sometimes
even further, into the sparse clearing that protected their dwelling from harsh wafts of wind, when
the gods fought too loudly among themselves, and perform his daily office surrounded by Mother
Earth and her infinite manifestations of beauty, towards which he directed his gratitude and
protection.

Doyoung and Taeyong were very different but also very drawn to one another, as if their
quintessential diversities couldn’t possibly stand a chance against the work of the Moirai
themselves, spinning the threads of their lives as one single strand.

Doyoung was the definition of demure: his high intelligence, his quick wits and charming
personality made him the perfect diplomat in every situation. He worked as a journalist for an
online newspaper that barely gave him the income he needed to waltz through the month, but it
was the job he had always sought after, the one that gave him the opportunity to do what he felt
right and just, to help common people and overlooked stories find their voice in the world. He
dreamed of becoming a freelancer one day, having more time to spend at home and indulge in a
few of his hobbies, taking care of their plants. Taking care of Taeyong.

The elder owned a herbalist’s shop just on the outskirts of the city, close to where they had decided
to buy their home. Taeyong was known for his kind and reassuring smile, for the sweets he always
gifted to little kids when they visited his shop, for the shelter dogs he took care of three times a
week, preparing treats and offering to take them for a walk or to wash their fur. Everyone who
knew Taeyong adored him— even too much if you asked Doyoung about it, but he trusted his
boyfriend more than anything, even if his naivety got him into trouble, like that time he had to rush
to the police station because Taeyong wanted to help an old lady report the theft of her wallet and
got stuck into the horrors of bureaucracy until late at night.

It was never boring between them. They clashed and fit every single time and their souls molded
into something else, something that looked suspiciously more and more like Taeyong’s soft
features when he cards his fingers through Doyoung’s hair in the morning’s haze or like
Doyoung’s instant urge to smooth the hems of Taeyong’s shirt when he is too much in a rush to do
it himself. Their domesticity wasn’t just Taeyong’s natural essence as son of Hestia, but the result
of a seven years of close friendship and another five years of dating. They took their time
transforming the magnetic pull they felt the first time their eyes laid on each other into intimate
touches and whispered pledges of love into the silence of the night. No one was really surprised by
the time they made it official.
Still, he has to do without his soulmate right now. The sun had set earlier and now the moonlight
shone over leaves and gravel, helping Taeyong see better where his feet landed. He decided he was
going to make it quick and heartfelt today, the weight of a long day on his shoulders and the strong
desire of sinking into the couch and put a netflix show on to watch while waiting for Doyoung to
come home. Maybe the time had come to finally start Black Sails, after hearing such good reviews
from Taeil— “Pirates! Cinematography!! A goddamn plot worthy of this name and gays. Lots of
them” Jungwoo had enthusiastically added.

Taeyong reached the central bench in their yard and settled the tea light candles on the opposite
side of the wooden planks from where he was seating. He breathed in, inhaling the crisp smell of
what was left of the afternoon rain, his back of his head touching the backrest. After a few seconds,
he leaned over, adjusting his posture, and crossed his legs, tucking one shoe underneath with his
right hand. Taeyong took some of the candles into his left hand and with a sharp snap of his free
hand’s fingers, he lightened the space around him, transferring the sparkles from his digits to the
wicks and conjuring a bright red flame on each wax piece. Taeyong smiled to himself shyly: being
able to do his little magic always put a grin on his face, the true reminder of where he came from.
Of what he really was.

Palms open and flat, he settled the candles back on the bench. He closed his eyes and took another
long breath.

“Hi mom.”

An owl squawked from where it was perched on a birch’s high branch. Doyoung was probably on
his way back or he had addressed his mother too friendly. “Good evening, mother”, he rephrased.

“Today a very cute beagle visited my shop, his name was Sam and he couldn’t stop wriggling his
little tail. I gave him one of the cookies I had put aside for the shelter dogs and even petted him for
a while, he was so excited that he jumped on my lap and I almost knocked over a vase.” Taeyong
snickered at the thought and blew lightly around the flame to shoo the gnats gathering around it
away. “Every day I realize how much truth animals actually know. How much they can sense.
They know about us.”

A yawn escaped his lips. “Well, it was a pretty uneventful day, all things considered. Doyoung is
coming back as we speak and he’s probably going to reheat the soup I left for him. He loves when I
cook for him, even though I always tell him he makes the most delicious kimchi fried rice.”
Taeyong gazed up to steal a look at the sky, sighing. “It was really a boring week, actually” he
rebutted, aware of the fact he was probably just annoying his mother. He crouched his legs, knees
against his chest and hands wrapping his slacks. “I guess I should just say my thanks and call it a
night.”

And so he did. In his usual lulling tone.

“We salute you, daughter of Kronos

and Rhea, who alone brings firelight

to the sacred altars of the gods;

Hestia, reward our prayer, grant

wealth obtained in honesty;

then we shall always

dance around your glistening throne.”

Taeyong blew out the candles, making sure to bid goodnight. Not even five steps towards his front
door were taken when he heard the twisting voice of another person around him. “Busted.”

Taeyong joggled with surprise, snapping his head back and forth to retrace the direction the voice
came from. There was no one within his range vision except for old trees and night creatures. The
most obvious and reassuring name came first to his mind. “Doyoung? Are you home?”

A beat and then he heard the voice again. “ Silly, look down! Can’t you see a cat is talking to
you?”

Taeyong moved his gaze to the ground and fluttered his eyes, searching for proofs. It took him a
few seconds to really connect the pieces of information in his mind. “Wait… a cat? Talking?”

A piercing meow reached Taeyong’s ears, so loud he could actually think it came out a lion’s
mouth. And it was in that moment that he noticed him. A black cat sitting on his rear paws, tail
wiggling behind him and into the cold air like a pocket watch trying to hypnotize him. His eyes
were emerald green, like the color of the water on those luxurious beaches Taeyong had seen in
movies or on a travel agency’s brochure. His claws dug at the dirt in regular, steady movements—
everything about him was purposeful.

“Finally. Took you long enough to find me.”

Taeyong stared at the creature at his feet with disbelief, not quite understanding how senseless
animal sounds could turn into words with meaning in his brain. Were they communicating
telepathically?

“How can I understand you? And who the hell are you anyway?”

Taeyong could swear he saw the cat roll his eyes. “Taeyong, son of Hestia, you are not the only
demigod who knows his tricks on this devilish planet. You do your thing with fire and I go around
in my feline disguise observing humans. Except you are clearly not one of them.” The cat tilted his
head and approached Taeyong, jumping into his lap in such a feline-like movement he had to catch
him into his arms to prevent the cat from falling. “I finally found someone akin to me in this God
forsaken city.”

His whiskers rose up, nose scrunching closer at Taeyong’s neck in a lazy attempt to scent him.
Taeyong stood there, almost paralyzed, eyes wide as a pufferfish. He waited for the cat to speak —
meow?— again. “My name is Yuta, son of Hecate. I’m also a demigod.”

_________________

Doyoung walked on foot from the metro station to his house, trying to use that to relieve some
work-related stress. He had a saddle bag swinging from his right shoulder, a bottle of water with
what was left from that morning in his left hand and his phone in the other one, opening the
message app to text Taeyong and let him know he was on his way home.

Be there in 5 ✌ – 7.55pm

He didn't have to wait long to hear the familiar ding that informed him of a new notification.
Yay ♥️ there’s a surprise waiting for you – 7.57pm

Doyoung stared at the screen, pondering if he should worm more destails out of his boyfriend
about this so called surprise. He liked to have everything under control and he knew Taeyong’s
surprises weren’t always the most brilliant of ideas. He settled for asking in person, since he
figured he would reach his destination in under five minutes.

When he opened the front door, he was welcomed by the faraway sounds coming from the tv in the
living room. Doyoung hung his backpack on the coat rack along with his denim grey jacket,
reminding himself to empty it afterwards and organize his things for the day after. “Taeyong?”

“Over here!” he shouted from the couch.

Doyoung headed towards the living room, skipping through a pair of shoes he didn’t recognize and
the leftovers of Taeyong’s dinner still waiting to be cleared off on the table. His stomach growled
in response, making Doyoung rub his shirt in small circles, but he held it down, curiosity pushing
him to unveil the surprise his boyfriend had told him about. When he approached Taeyong, who
was sitting on their couch, he realized he wasn’t alone. Two cups of steaming green tea were
placed on the short coffee table in front of them, along with some of his boyfriend’s delicious
ginger snaps that had all aunties asking him for the recipe whenever they tried them on his shop’s
countertop. Taeyong snapped his head back towards Doyoung when he felt him approaching,
shooting a warm smile in Doyoung’s direction, his eyes creasing by default.

“Honey, you will never believe who I just met in the most unexpected way tonight”, Taeyong let
him now with a lilting tone.

The stranger leaned backwards, tilting his head on the highest level of the backrest, looking upside
down at the new presence behind him, and stared at Doyoung for what felt like hours with a
cheshire grin on his lips. His face was sharp, angular, even in that position. His skin gleamed under
the light, like it was polished with a pumice stone; his hair thick and pitch black, gripping at his
scalp with the force of a thousand oxen but soft and poofy at the same time, like cotton wool
braided thinly. There were few traces of black eyeliner smeared at the undersides of his eyes.

His eyes. Doyoung fixed on them, green pools of emerald liquid drawing him in, calling for him to
get closer, to touch, to caress. They felt peculiar, overwhelming and overbearing, in a way that it
couldn’t possibly belong to humans. Like a cat’s. Like something more.

Doyoung felt like the world had stopped spinning to stare at the stranger sitting on his couch, in his
home, his boyfriend by his side. He was brought back from his reverie when the mouth he caught
himself staring at moved to speak.

“Hi, Doyoung. Taeyong has told me a lot about you. I’m Yuta. Sorry for the intrusion.”

“Nonsense. Your quest for demigods has brought you here, with us. We are always happy to
discover more people like us; humans can’t fully understand how we live everyday”, Taeyong
retorted, placing a hand on Yuta’s shoulder and brushing it with a feathery touch.

Yuta smiled at him shyly. “I just wanted to make friends.”

Doyoung was still standing awkwardly at the edge of the couch, eyes going back and forth trying to
follow the conversation, brows furrowed together.

Taeyong was the first one to notice. “Don’t just stay there stock-still like a lamppost! Sit, I’m going
to reheat your soup while you two get to know each other. I can hear your stomach rumbling.” He
stood up, passing by him and pecking him on the cheek as he made his way towards the kitchen.

Yuta chuckled, adjusting his chin on his forearm propped on the backrest. “I’m sorry. You
probably didn’t expect anyone tonight.”

Doyoung finally regained his composure and brought himself to sit beside Yuta. Now that he could
properly look at him, he noticed the black leather jacket, all the piercings adorning his ears like
little stars, the ink peeping out of the fabric on his shoulder. “It’s no problem, really. I’m just
surprised to hear there’s another demigod living in this city.” It was a lie. Well, at least half a lie,
he had missed quite a few heartbeats earlier. “I’m Doyoung, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“I moved four weeks ago. I took my time unpacking and setting the last things for my shop.” He
grinned and his entire face lighted up. “I know who you are. Taeyong has told me everything about
you, son of Athena. He really adores you.”

A rosy flush appeared on Doyoung’s cheekbones. He was used to his boyfriend expressing his
feeling for him in private, but he still couldn’t keep a straight face when people around him would
make him notice just how much he cared. “What kind of shop are you opening?”

Yuta reached for his cup and took a sip of his green tea before speaking. “A tattoo shop! I’m a
tattoo artist. Been doing that for three years now.”

Doyoung’s stare slipped back to the black lines on Yuta’s shoulder, clean and sharp, standing out
against his smooth skin. Doyoung imagined how many more he must have had, where were they
hidden.

The rest of the evening passed like that, with Yuta and Doyoung absorbing as much information
about each other as possible. Taeyong came back from the kitchen with a heated pot 5 minutes
later, putting it on the table nearby and slumping back on the couch between the two men,
snuggling against Doyoung’s chest when he had finished eating. Yuta told them about how he
wanted to meet new people like him and build sincere friendships so that’s why he sometimes
roamed around under false pretenses to observe life around him and figure out who could possibly
be one of them. It was part of the fun. Meeting Taeyong was a complete coincidence, for he didn’t
expect to walk in on an actual evening prayer. He described it as fate and maybe Yuta was right. It
did feel like a fated reunion, old souls slipping back into their usual habits, their usual routines,
their usual conversations.

Taeyong was kind and warm and smelt like cinnamon and roses. Doyoung was witty, caring and
smelt like rain and pine trees.

Yuta felt comfortable with them around. Free. Unbound. He could see himself spending time with
them, on a Saturday evening or a Tuesday afternoon, bowling or grabbing a bite at the local
bakery. That’s what friends do, right?

And so they agreed to do.

__________________

Stomping his feet on the narrow gravel path to get rid of a few snowflakes settled comfortably on
his boots, Doyoung called for his boyfriend from behind the gate. “We’re going to be late, hurry
up!”
Still clumsily wrapping a red scarf around his neck, Taeyong bursted through the door, a bundle of
keys in his free hand. “Coming!”

He locked everything and joined Doyoung and together they made their way to the metro station. It
wasn’t snowing anymore, but Doyoung made sure to bring an umbrella with him as it was cold and
cloudy enough for another storm to sweep them away at any moment. December was almost over
and winter was starting to reclaim its rightful place in the seasons’ cycle.

They were supposed to meet Yuta at the cinema’s entryway, where he was already waiting for
them, tickets for three in his hands. Watching movies on Fridays had become a ritual for them in
the past six months, an unspoken agreement they had made between a night out and a cooking
competition (Yuta had learned very soon to just let the boyfriends battle and he settled for being
their official taste tester).

Taeyong and Doyoung had introduced him to all the demigods in the surroundings and Yuta was
grateful for all the friends he had made in the meantime, for the new life he had started so easily
thanks to an evening stroll and a whispered prayer from a beautiful man he was lucky enough to
stumble on when he least expected it.

Yuta talked to and went out with the others regularly, with Kun, Ten, Woo and Taeil, sometimes
even Jaehyun and Johnny when Jaehyun found time among his packed schedule. He cherished
them all like they were his biological brothers: they were family after all. But none of them made
him laugh, listened to him unconditionally, reassured him with the simplest, most heartfelt gestures
like Doyoung and Taeyong did. None of them made him stutter mid-sentence because they looked
at him for a bit too long, a bit too fondly. None of them took care of him without Yuta even saying
a word about whatever kept him awake at night. None of them carded their fingers through his hair
and made him crumble pliantly, gasping for air like he was underwater.

None of them loved him like Taeyong and Doyoung did.

Yuta was the first to approach and question the nature of his feeling towards the two of them. It felt
absurd, in a driving-him-crazy kind of way, that he couldn’t understand if he had feelings for
Taeyong or if it was Doyoung the one he was smitten with. He had brooded over the matter many ,
many times and each one was as inconclusive as the previous one. Until it hit him all at once one
day, when he had come home from one of their masterchef nights, as they liked to call it, with the
food they had cooked and gave him to reheat the day after displayed on the kitchen island, staring
back at him like famished pets waiting to be fed. It was in the most stupid moment he could ever
think of but you know what they say, the truth only presents itself to you on its own terms.

It was on that October night, slices of pizza cooling down on the counter wrapped in aluminium
foil, the sounds of the city booming in the distance, that he realized he was in love with both of
them. He was in love with Taeyong AND Doyoung.

He kept this realization inside of him for two months, chopping it up and analyzing every single
piece from every direction. Yuta felt a lump forming in his throat every time he fantasized about
even daring to tell them how he felt, to lay all of his feeling on display for them: they would
obviously laugh at him and push him away like the freak he was. Because he surely felt like one.
They are in love, you idiot. With each other, not with you. Never with you.

And yet, there was always a tiny, feeble flame of hope, lightening the dark skein of worries in his
head with a pounding thought: that maybe, maybe , just a bit, they could actually reciprocate.
Maybe, he wasn’t the only feeling like that. Maybe, they could share the entire amount of love
Yuta treasured in his 175 centimeters of bones and blood. He had so much to give, so much to
offer, that two people would probably not even be enough to take it all in.
He tried to test the waters when they were alone, to see if there was actually a sliver of hope he
could cling to or if he had to give up and find a way to mend his broken heart. The results didn’t
satisfy his soul, so he gathered the few drops of courage he had in him and decided to act on it. He
was going to do something, he just didn’t know what. Or when. Or how.

Yuta saw from the corner of his eyes the two men approaching him and put on his brightest smile
in his repertoire to greet them. “Five minutes later and I would have gone in there by myself.”

“Taeyong was too busy staring at himself in the mirror, I was ready half an hour before leaving the
house”, Doyoung scoffed.

Taeyong nudged him in the ribs. “Not my fault you almost clogged the shower drain ‘cause you
wanted to sing Britney Spears’ entire discography.”

The two and a half hours inside went by pretty fast and they all came out of the cinema with a
voracious hunger. Their stomachs rumbled for a while before they decided to get ramen right
after.

“I’m going to the toilet before heading out, wait for me”, Taeyong said, feet already dragging him
away.

Yuta and Doyoung were left by themselves among old pinballs and ping pong tables. There was no
one there except for the cashiers selling popcorns and cold drinks.

Yuta felt his heart almost jumping out of his chest: Doyoung was leaning against one of the
machines, mindlessly checking his social medias, shoulder brushing Yuta’s arm. He had realized
that air felt stuffier when he was left alone with one of them ever since he had come to terms with
his feelings. He wanted to lean closer, rest his head in the crook between Doyoung’s shoulder and
neck. Maybe kiss him if only he wasn’t a coward.

He hadn’t realized he had subconsciously shifted his weight towards Doyoung, like sunflowers
searching for the sun. It was only when Doyoung looked up from his phone and turned his head
that they found each other only a few centimeters apart. Yuta could feel his hot breath on his nose
as his brain hoisted red flags alarmingly.

If only he hadn’t been too busy trying to make the situation less awkward and back down from it
like a chicken running for his life, he would have noticed Doyoung’s almost stoic expression, lips
drawn into a thin line as he leaned over, one arm gripping the handle of the machine behind him
and the other one reaching for Yuta’s chin, clawing at it with his fingers. His eyes slipped on
Yuta’s lips and stared at them while the other tried to interpret in a reasonable way what was
happening in that moment.

There were a few seconds of vacillation and an exhaled breath Yuta didn’t realize Doyoung was
holding back until the younger tentatively joined their lips together, crashing on Yuta’s mouth like
waves against a rock. He held his chin steady in his hand the entire time to tilt his head up, kissing
Yuta in the most tender way he was ever kissed. He had expect teeth and gums judging by the way
he had bent over, but it was a chaste one, faltering, sweet, a getting-to-know-our-bodies type of
kiss. Doyoung tasted like salt from the popcorn he had eaten earlier.

When they let go, Yuta knew his face must have looked like a pool of lava and found comfort and
reassurance in the way Doyoung also looked kind of breathless and dazed, a pinch of
embarrassment scattered on his face.

“W-what was that… supposed to mean?” Yuta managed to say in a whisper. He wasn’t going to
get his hopes up just with a peck.

“I— uhm”, Doyoung mumbled, clearly as much at a loss for words as Yuta. He twirled his thumbs
in front of him. “I have been wanting to do that for a long time.”

Ears ringing, Yuta swallowed whatever was stuck in his throat that made his breathing uneven and
trembling. Before he could say anything else, Doyoung continued in a hurry, as if what he had to
say had priority over everything else. “I want you to know that I am not cheating on Taeyong.
Taeyong is the love of my life and nothing nor no one will ever change that. I will always love
him, no matter what happens to either of us. I made a promise, a vow , I don’t intend to break.”

I don’t want you to break that vow, I want to be part of it, Yuta thought for himself.

“But we have been discussing a lot about this in the past few months” he gestured clumsily in front
of him to highlight the object of their discussions. “These feelings we started to have for… you.
Both of us.”

“At first we were both terrified one was going to cheat on the other, but after a good talk and
several attempts of making sure we were not joking later, we realized it was actually a couple
issue. As in we both basically wanted the same thing.”

Yuta fell into an eerie silence, drops of sweat starting to form on his forehead with each word
Doyoung threw at him. This felt like a fever dream. He was obviously dreaming, that was the only
plausible explanation. Why was Taeyong taking so goddamn long?

He didn’t realize he had been silent the whole time. “Yuta, please, say something. It’s honestly
already embarrassing as it is, proposing something like this” Doyoung blurted out after a few beats,
trying to avoid looking at him in the eyes.

Yuta took a deep breath and decided to play dumb until he got exactly what he wanted, a full
confession that matched his dreams and hopes and a proof he wasn’t actually part of a sick prank
they had pulled on him. “What is it, exactly, that you are proposing, Doyoung ?” He dragged his
name like he was going to get shot in the head after he was done talking.

Doyoung quickly figured Yuta’s endgame and seized the moment, taking his hand between his,
stroking the back with his thumbs. He didn’t know which heart he was trying to soothe, his or
Yuta’s, considering how his own hammered with the intensity of a furnace between his ribs. “I—
we want you to be with us. Romantically. We want you to be in a relationship with us. We want you
to love us as much as we love you. Is that clear enough?”

Yuta could have honestly died then and there. He wasn’t used to the best possible scenario coming
to life right in front of his eyes. That must have been a lucid dream, one of his mother’s finest
witchcrafts. Was she testing him? Was her boredom so grand that she could have planned this all
along? He was going to ask her directly but he had to survive this day first. Doyoung locked his
gaze with Yuta’s, clearly nervous and expectant.

He was about to come back to the real world and give Doyoung a coherent reply, one that possibly
didn’t unmask his three— six? months of severe pining, when Taeyong’s voice pierced his ears
from behind. “Let’s gooo, I’m so hungry.” Taeyong linked them by the arm and dragged them
along with him, leading the group to the restaurant they had previously agreed to eat at.

Doyoung never brought the argument up again during their dinner and neither did Yuta, even
though he felt like someone had put a rag between his teeth to stop him from talking and a hand
around his neck pinning him down to the chair. He never caught Doyoung stealing a glance at him
or mentioning anything that could bring them back to their unfinished conversation.

When the dinner was over, they all decided to go back to Taeyong and Doyoung’s house for a
gaming night. The moment they crossed the threshold Doyoung announced he was going to take a
bath first to leave them to their gaming stuff, “infernal devices, if you ask me”.

And so Yuta was left alone with Taeyong.

Taeyong brewed a pot of herbal tea for them while Yuta set the tv and all the cables in the right
spots. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Taeyong in the eyes and the older had definitely noticed
it. Yuta was good at lying and coming up with stories to make people believe in him, but he was
less of an expert when it hit too close home. The alcohol flowing in his system from the beer he
had chugged while eating earlier wasn’t enough for him to let go of the tension engulfing his body.

Taeyong positioned the cups on the short table in front of the couch and leaned back, one arm
sustaining his head from behind while the other laid lazily on his lap. He watched Yuta tinker with
the furniture with a serious expression.

“Did you say yes?”

Yuta turned around, a confused brow now prominent on his face. “What are you talking about?”

Taeyong tilted his head, so that now his palm would accommodate the entirety of the left side of
his face. “Doyoung’s proposal. Did you say yes?”

A rush of blood climbed its way to his brain. His hands froze mid-air and he found himself staring
at them, incapable of moving even an inch of his body. He wanted to answer, he wanted to scream
that yes, he would have literally begged for that to happen, that he has been daydreaming about it
for months now, that since meeting Taeyong he hasn’t been able to look at another man or woman
without comparing them to him.

Yuta said none of that, still questioning the reality of it all. That feeling of disbelief when you
create a perfect image in your head of what you want to experience, crafted down to the smallest
detail, and actually meeting your own expectations. That was probably the first time that it had
happened to him.

“I do.”

Taeyong raised an inquiring brow. “What?”

Shit, I’m not even making sense. Get it together, Yuta. He opened his mouth to reply, almost
choking on his own breath from nervousness. “I do want to be with you.” He finally turned to his
left to look at Taeyong and oh God, he was so not equipped to put up with how intensely the other
was boring a hole into his soul. Taeyong’s eyes were a black hole floating into the galaxy, feeding
on stardust and ash and swallowing everything within reach only to nourish his own sparkle, his
own flame.

“Both of you. I want to be with both of you so bad, you have no idea.”

Taeyong grinned before Yuta could even finish his sentence, stretching his arms and crawling to
close the space that was still keeping them apart, and placed on either side of Yuta’s hips, climbing
on his lap with an animal-like leap and taking away a bundle of cables from his hands (Yuta hadn’t
realized he was basically holding on them for dear life, as if they were the last shred of self-control
he was trying to preserve). Yuta’s hands moved on their own accord, encircling Taeyong’s waist as
if they had always belonged there, staring at him like he would stare at the most beautiful statue in
the world: head up, lips parted, a stunned look spreading on his face.

Taeyong leaned forward and Yuta knew what was going to happen this time. He accepted the kiss
like a thirsty man would accept water after wandering for a week through the desert. It was
different from Doyoung’s— hungrier, more purposeful, scorching. It burned where their lips met,
but it was the most pleasant pain he had ever felt and he welcomed it with open arms, stripped to
the bone of every second thought that had been populating his mind the past months.

When their eyes met again, he was breathless. Taeyong balanced himself, placing his hands on the
couch in front of him. Several ticks of the clock later, each and every one heavy as stone, the elder
brought the palms of his hands to Yuta’s face, cupping his cheeks with the most gentleness Yuta
had ever experienced in his life.

He drew their foreheads up and whispered into Yuta’s ear words as sweet and binding as his
prayers, gifted to the immortals. “You will not regret this. We will shower you with so much love it
will seep into your bones and overfeed your soul.” He kissed his eyelids softly. “We want to offer
you everything we have to give and more. Do you accept?”

Feverish and tamed, Yuta slouchered into the soft cushions. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, so
he simply nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly. He was ready for whatever they demanded from
him. He had never felt more ready in his entire life.

________________

Getting used to certain habits was going to come back to bite Yuta in the ass when said habits
included getting fresh pastries every weekend morning from Doyoung and regular bouquets from
Taeyong with flowers he took care of personally for his shop. His tattoo parlour was also
redecorated by Taeyong with all kinds of plants and seedlings and clients often questioned if Yuta
was serious about his job or if his shop was just a coverup for different activities. Yuta just smiled
embarrassed and continued disinfecting his work tools.

They went on all kinds of dates and day trips, Doyoung indulging Yuta’s love for mountain hikes
despite him not quite being the sporty type. Taeyong was often their designated photographer.

Yuta had quickly learned their more hidden little quirks: apparently, Taeyong had closer
relationship with his mother Hestia than he would let people on and once a year he leaves for his
hometown, where he makes a big, important sacrifice to please her heart and ask for her protection
and blessing, the only one that had the soothing power of granting him strength and courage. He
kindles a fire each year in the same spot and lets it burn for a whole day, time he spends brewing
potions to leave to her devotees.

Doyoung had a more casual relationship with Athena, not being much of a prayer himself, and he
prided himself of being able to always meet her expectations in every aspect of his life. He listened
to her and sought her advice more than anything and being admired and respected was enough for
Athena to welcome him in her good graces.

Taeyong never ate foods too spicy while Doyoung snored lightly when work stressed him to the
point of dropping dead on the couch as soon as he would come home; Taeyong usually washed the
dishes while Doyoung was the designated one to dry them; once every two months they booked a
fancy restaurant for dinner and made themselves look smart enough to meddle with filthy rich
people. He laughed so much with them his belly threatened to explode, the moon rays expaning
from his left shoulder tattoo up to the underside of his neck highlighting the full veins on display.

Yuta had snaked his way into their daily lives like the course of a river running to meet the sea
through pebbles and sands. He never felt out of place nor a third wheel and his boyfriends made
sure to spoil him rotten all the time.

Five days prior to Valentine’s Day, more or less two months after he had agreed to give his body
and soul to them, on a stormy night while thunders and lightings accompanied the steady rhythm of
the rain, Yuta laid sandwiched between Doyoung and Taeyong’s bodies on their bed, sound asleep
with his head on Doyoung’s chest while the younger carded his fingers through his hair,
mindlessly massaging his scalp. Taeyong had an arm enclosing Yuta’s waist, forehead touching his
back, and followed his breathing movements with half-lidded eyes. With his free hand, he retraced
Yuta’s back and shoulder tattoos, mostly abstract patterns and few written sentences in several
languages that blended together in different spots.

“Yongie.”

No other sound escaped Taeyong’s mouth except for a incoherent mumbling that acknowledged
Doyoung’s presence. The clock marked 4am. “Hmph.”

“I was thinking”, Doyoung murmured, stretching his free hand until he could intertwine his fingers
with his boyfriend’s. “About our Valentine’s gift to Yuta.”

“What about it?”, Taeyong replied, yawning.

“I think we should ask him that.”

“Do you think he will say yes?”

Doyoung looked up at the ceiling, yawning back as a reflex before speaking. “He already sleeps
here at least twice a week. He gave us a spare toothbrush that he could use whenever he stops by
and some of his tees are also folded in our drawers.”

Taeyong fully opened his eyes, blinking heavily. He pretended to think about it for a bit and darted
a teasing grin to Doyoung. “I mean, we have proposed him weirder things than moving in with
us.”

Doyoung squeezed their hands tighter, rolling his eyes. “I’m serious, idiot. I want to wake up like
this every day, have breakfast together and coming home to both my boyfriends snuggling on the
couch. I want the full experience, not just bits and pieces.”

Taeyong buried his face in the crook of Yuta’s neck, stretching his limbs to let blood flow to his
numb legs. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, I figured. You’re no fun at all.”

"Excuse me? I’m the funniest person you know.”

“You are a lost cause. And I’m the ultimate lawyer of lost causes.”

Doyoung freed his hand to pinch Taeyong on the hip, a grimace born on his face, careful not to
wake Yuta up. Taeyong intercepted his arm and blocked it, pushing back to fight until they were
both tired and sleepy again. The storm had subsided, now merely a drizzle washing the roads.

“You’re lucky I love you”, Doyoung whispered, offering his words to the close intimacy of their
bedroom.
Taeyong reached for his hand again, this time bringing Doyoung’s knuckles to his lips and pecking
tenderly on the soft skin. He murmured something before letting himself succumb to Morpheus. “I
love you too.”

___________________

SOS come back home as soon as you read this!!! we have a situation — 5:32pm

Oh, and we’re going grocery shopping, we have run out of almond flour — 5:33pm

Love you — 5:33pm

The phone buzzed thrice before Doyoung pulled it out from the inside pocket of his jacket. Yuta’s
texts stared at him on the preview screen. Doyoung swiped right, opening the message app.

I would be worried if I didn’t know what you are up to. Please, PLEASE, tell me you didn’t blow up
the house — 5:34pm

It’s nice to know you care more about the house than me, if something really exploded shouldn’t
you be concerned with my well-being? — 5:34pm

Doyoung snickered, tapping fast on the screen.

I pay for that house, I would be angry if my money went to waste. You decided to live with me of
your own free will — 5:36pm

I can always decide to ditch you both and go live as a hermit on a mountain or something —
5:37pm

No, you can’t. We have put a spell on you, you more than anyone should know about it, you ain’t
going anywhere. Stuck with us for life — 5:38pm

Wait for me, I’m heading back in 20 —5:38pm

Loveyoutooidiot ♥️ even if you don't know how to use an oven — 5:39pm

Doyoung took care of the last things for the day, organizing his folders on his laptop and putting
out some words for that assignment he had due to the end of the week. He cleaned his desk,
grabbing his keys and jacket and heading for the elevators. The weather was now almost
completely summery, days dragged to their full extent, giving way to the moon only when they had
stolen and basked in all the sun rays.

Doyoung decided to use the metro to go home so that he could come to Yuta’s rescue before he
would really press the wrong button and light the house on fire. When he opened the front door,
Yuta was leaning forward against the kitchen island, focused on reading something on his phone
while biting his nails.

“I don’t understand, I literally followed every step on this fucking recipe”, he mumbled by himself.

Doyoung shut the door behind him. “What do you want to bet I already know what you forgot to
do?” He took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack.
Yuta looked up, visibly scowling. “I did everything right. It doesn’t take a genius to read some
instructions and do as it’s written.”

“Did you use the yeast?”

“Yes! It’s right here!” Yuta raised a little box placed on the counter, covered in blotches of flour.

“For the wrath of Ares, Yuta, that’s butter.”

Yuta glazed at the plastic thing in his palm. “I swear it looked like yeast.”

Doyoung sighed audibly. “You know, when you came up to me and told me you wanted to bake
something for Taeyong’s birthday, I thought you must have been drunk. You never touch the stuff
in the kitchen and to do that for Taeyong of all people! He’s, like, the ultimate sweets’ expert.”

He went around and closed the space behind them, putting his hands on Yuta’s waist and hugging
him from behind. “Taeyong would eat everything I give him, even igneous rocks.”

“That’s totally true, but do we really want to be charged with attempted murder?”

Doyoung stole a glance at the mess Yuta had made on the counter’s surface, egg yolks, sugar and
flour splattered all over it. It would take them at least half an hour to clean everything up.

“Let’s go grocery shopping before Taeyong comes home, I’ll help you with it. There’s still hope
we can make something edible.” Doyoung let go of his boyfriend, placing a quick kiss on his
forehead before retracing his steps and putting back on his jacket. Yuta followed suit.

The second (third, considering the one Yuta had conveniently glossed over out of some kind of self
pride) attempt at baking went way better than the first two; they cleaned everything still dirty from
using and hid the cake in a compartment on the highest level of the pantry that they didn’t really
use much.

With Taeyong’s birthday being the day after, they made sure he avoided the kitchen as much as
possible: Doyoung cooked dinner while Yuta got rid of the dirty dishes afterwards (“Just relax and
pretend it’s already your birthday”, they had screamed when Taeyong dared to get up from the
chair).

“I can’t believe I’m already 27”, Taeyong breathed heavily into the dead of the night a few hours
later, forehead glistening with drops of sweat, limbs pliant and weak over damp sheets. Yuta
reached for a box of tissues on the nightstand on his side of the bed and offered him one, helping
him wipe his face, that face he would never get tired of look at. “I’m going to join you soon in the
club of 27s”, Yuta observed, nuzzling against Taeyong’s nape. “Happy birthday again, Yongie.”

Doyoung looked ragged, lids blinking slowly at an uneven pace. He writhed a bit, trying to
accomodate Taeyong’s body on his own. Taeyong linked their legs together and placed his head to
rest on Doyoung’s chest, right where he could feel his heart pounding. The younger turned around
and tilted his head until he could smell Taeyong’s familiar honey-flavoured shampoo, kissing the
top of his hair. “Happy birthday, brat. Each year you become more beautiful and even more
annoying.”

Taeyong snorted, whiffs of hot breathing escaping his body. “Can you actually say something nice
without adding mean follow-ups for once?”

“That means I would have to admit the humongous crush I have on you and actually deal with the
fact that I have been in love with you for almost a decade now. Yeah, not happening anytime
soon.”

Yuta chuckled from across the bed and his chest movements reverberated through the close space
they shared. Taeyong propped himself up with his elbows so that he could look at Doyoung in the
eye, a thoughtful stare on his face. “Do you remember what you promised me three years ago,
when we went to London for our anniversary?”

“That in five years we would take a big trip to Athens to reconnect with our roots”, Doyoung
retraced back, oozing seriousness.

“Let’s go next year. All three of us.” Taeyong turned to his left to look at Yuta. “Come with us. I’ll
bake you all the sweets you want if necessary.”

“Ah— funny that you mention that, actually.”

“What’s funny about it?” Taeyong asked.

Doyoung tried to muffle a laughter without much success. “He almost blew up the kitchen trying to
make you a birthday cake earlier. Thank the Gods we still have a rooftop above our heads.”

“Doyoung!”, Yuta yelled. “That was supposed to be a surprise!”

Taeyong gazed at Yuta like the first time he had met him in his cat form, when he had thought the
animal was talking to him. Like the sun had started spinning around the earth. Yuta raised a
warning finger to his face. “Not a single word about this to none of our friends. Especially Ten . ”

Taeyong brushed the finger away, ignoring all the stuttering through which Yuta was trying to
convince him not to expose his abysmal culinary skills to the world. His features were as soft as
pastel colors. Taeyong’s entire aura was a refreshing shade of pastel pink, Yuta thought. “Baby,
you being you is already enough for me. You don’t need to prove anything.”

Doyoung pretended to gag to bring the attention back to himself. “Alright, I’m gonna get some
sleep. Be gross without me, thanks.”

“Jealousy looks bad on you, bunny.” Taeyong teased, arms wrapped around Yuta’s torso. “Sleep
well, try not to turn green from it.”

Doyoung shook his head playfully, slumping into the mattress. He was about to say something and
bite back like he did every single day of his life, but he decided against it. Not now. It was
Taeyong’s birthday and their regular fights would have to be postponed for at least a day. Once a
year, he let himself consider what he actually felt for the man laying by his side, backs facing each
other. His feeling for Yuta were easier to accept, flowing through his body like a waterfall jumping
down. On the other hand, when he had realized he loved Taeyong, his whole world reassembled
itself. He had to process the information into his system and start again from scratch.

Now, he wouldn’t have changed a single thing about his life. Maybe a more stable income, that
would have been ideal. But he looked at the two people dozing off by his side, the two most
beautiful faces he has ever had the chance to lay his eyes on, and felt as invincible as his warrior
mother. That’s what love does to you, he figured. It makes you stronger.

“Goodnight, loves. Let’s meet in our dreams.”

End Notes

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