Chapter Text
Forty-one duodecillion, six hundred fifty-six undecillion, five hundred fifteen decillion, two hundred thirteen nonillion, two hundred sixteen octillion, five hundred eighty-four septillion, four hundred sixty-five sextillion, five hundred thirteen quintillion, six hundred twenty-five quadrillion, one hundred sixty-five trillion, four hundred eighty-four billion, six hundred fifty-one million, three hundred twenty-one thousand, six hundred fifty-four...
Forty-one duodecillion, six hundred fifty-six undecillion, five hundred fifteen decillion, two hundred thirteen nonillion, two hundred sixteen octillion, five hundred eighty-four septillion, four hundred sixty-five sextillion, five hundred thirteen quintillion, six hundred twenty-five quadrillion, one hundred sixty-five trillion, four hundred eighty-four billion, six hundred fifty-one million, three hundred twenty-one thousand, six hundred fifty-five…
Forty-one duodecillion, six hundred fifty-six undecillion, five hundred fifteen decillion, two hundred thirteen nonillion, two hundred sixteen octillion, five hundred eighty-four septillion, four hundred sixty-five sextillion, five hundred thirteen quintillion, six hundred twenty-five quadrillion, one hundred sixty-five trillion, four hundred eighty-four billion, six hundred fifty-one million, three hundred twenty-one thousand, six hundred fifty-six…
A shrill laugh shoots through the long silent darkness of a cave long forgotten by man. There weren’t even rodents or bugs that ventured this far into the Earth anymore, and it was with good reason. With a vastly unexplored depth of over six thousand feet, the cave was cold, devoid of moisture, and completely unforgiving to the average traveler.
Or at least, it was supposed to be.
Another excited cackle bounces along the walls of the cave as two young men careen down a pitch black chasm that had branched off from the main, blocked off mouth of the vast cavern. Both men are compact and slim in the waist, but their strength and eptitude is obvious in the pronounced lines of sinew that wound along their arms, legs, and backs. One of them is especially well defined with shoulders like a strongman but a waist like a ballerina. That is the first voice he heard.
“I can’t believe you just JUMPED into a dark and unexplored hole, Wooyoung. I know that you love adventures, but this is a bit much even for you.”
His hair is a bright, pink color much like the azaleas that dotted the mountains and forests of the lands from which he once hailed.
It’s been so long since I’ve seen color.
The other man lands at the foot of the cave alongside the first with a joyous shriek. The skin of his face is honey and strawberries as he rubs a bleeding arm across his forehead to rid it of sweat.
He smiles brightly at his partner and cheerfully proclaims, “Life’s not worth living if you don’t take risks, San. I’ve told you this a million times.”
Wooyoung. San. So pretty. Was this what boys looked like now?
San’s face drops as he notices the blood that has smeared across Wooyoung’s brow. He removes his backpack quickly and grabs some wet wipes, disinfectant spray, and bandages. Wooyoung sits down cross-legged on a rock in the confined space and lets San worry over his face with the wipes but quickly rolls away when he sees the antiseptic spray.
“Wooyoung, stop this! You’re not a baby. If you can stand the pain of the scrape then you can stand the sting of the shit to clean it!”
The lamps strapped to their helmets bump together as Wooyoung slinks up to San and abruptly kisses him full on the mouth then runs away from him again with an animated squeal. His laughs are intense and echoey in the chasmic space, and it brings a small smile to San’s face.
“Oh. My. God. San, you have to see this.”
San is across the room in a flash at Wooyoung’s shocked tone. In front of them is a vast array of artifacts ranging from small and shiny to huge and jaw-dropping. There were quite a few crushed or damaged items, but most of them were fully preserved and seemingly as beautiful as the day they were abandoned.
Wooyoung inches forward, nearly trembling with enthusiasm, and brushes a finger through the dust that encases most of the exquisite objects. His eyes are shining as he examines their find. When San and Wooyoung started spelunking, it was just supposed to be a fun and adventurous hobby. Being cramped in a two bedroom apartment with five of their best friends in a bustling city didn’t leave much time for them to be alone together, so the time away was like a blessing. And if they sometimes took advantage of the alone time to partake in more extracurricular exploration in the more abandoned caves that they discovered, only the rocks and bats could complain about it.
Needless to say, stumbling across a veritable treasure trove on their current expedition was not on their list of expected outcomes when they started their day.
“What is all of this? Some of these look like they’re over a thousand years old. I don’t even recognize the language on these tablets.” San states as he approaches the stash of miscellaneous treasures.
“It looks kinda familiar. Wish Mingi was here… he’d probably know. Hey, how would you feel about climbing back up t--” Wooyoung’s voice abruptly ceases as he reaches the far wall of the cavern. “This is so...I-I’m not sure what I’m looking at here. Look at these details.”
Wooyoung’s mouth gapes as his eyes fall upon the pièce de résistance that rests against the far wall framed in painted clay flowers, chains, and nails of all shapes. An excruciatingly beautiful statue, seemingly carved from the cave’s wall, reaches out with one hand in their direction with eyes pained and full of fiery hate. San accompanies Wooyoung as they examine the craftsmanship up close. An artist by trade, Wooyoung’s heart leaps at the prospect of discovering a wholly unknown work of art as if by fate’s prompting.
His eyes trace over the immaculate details one by one, and he can’t help but tear up at the horrid story that unfolds in the polished stone at his fingertips. It’s an angel, an otherworldly beautiful one to boot, that much is obvious. Their body is straining, as if in excruciating pain, under chains made of stone that wrap around close to every inch of their body. Their left arm is almost fully extended in what looks like a plea to the artist; fingers falling slightly as if realizing his pleas are for naught. Their arms and neck are lined with defined tendons and veins that seem to almost pulse in the wavering light of Wooyoung’s helmet lamp.
“So beautiful…” He mumbles, as if entranced, as he extends his fingers to fall on the face twisted beautifully in everlasting torture. A strong nose falls under two almond shaped eyes that look mournful even in stone. Cheeks like billowing clouds sit atop lips like the petals of a rose. Hair falls in curls along a strong brow and down to a sharp jaw that is clenched in agony. The angel is beautiful but horrifying in its obvious power as it strains against its bindings.
Each detail is painstakingly etched and crafted, but the pinnacle of the creation is the wings.
Wooyoung’s chest clenches as his fingers move over the lips of the statue reverently then over the perfectly crafted curls of hair to the massive wings that are unfolded partially as if in mid-extension. At Wooyoung’s feet, the artist had even crafted feathers in stone that lined the cave floor like fallen leaves in a forest during autumn.
San had still been examining the other items in the room when he heard Wooyoung let out a short, pained yip. He was across the room in a second to pull Wooyoung towards him. His eyes flashed over to the statue momentarily in awe and clung to the smear of blood that graced the lips of the figure.
“Woo! What are you doing rubbing your cut on some dirty, old statue? Do you WANT it to get infected?” San asks furiously as he pulls the disinfectant from his pocket and begins applying it to the wound again. Wooyoung’s grumpy whines are promptly ignored as San finishes wrapping a loose bandage around the small scrapes. “Oh, shush, you big baby! It’s just a scratch!”
Wooyoung’s pout is pronounced as he looks into San’s annoyed eyes. “It hurts! Maybe you should kiss it better.”
San’s annoyance is promptly forgotten as he takes in Wooyoung’s sly smile sliding onto wet, bitten lips. He leans forward slightly to erase the distance between them and press their lips together. The kiss is slow, measured, and full of familiarity. Their noses bump as their lips meld together in a leisurely glide.
It hadn’t always been this easy for the pair. Kisses, touches, hugs. They both came from families that didn’t approve of their “lifestyles”. When San’s dad would mention that word, “lifestyle”, his eyes would roll so hard they’d nearly fall out. Was it a lifestyle when he met his wife and fell in love? Was it a lifestyle when they went on their first date at a restaurant, had their first kiss by the ocean, and drank wine on a riverboat off the plaza in Louisville after popping the question? No. It wasn’t an accursed lifestyle choice . It was just life. It was just love.
“It’s 1994, Dad. Get with the times. I love Wooyoung, and if you can’t accept that, then you can’t accept me.”
That was the last thing he had said to his parents.
“Then we can’t accept you.”
That was the last thing his parents said to him.
And the interesting thing was that it barely mattered to him. It still doesn’t matter to him. Especially with Wooyoung backed up against the cold, smooth wall of the cavern that housed their newly unearthed collection of ancient relics. With each touch, hug, and kiss from Wooyoung, San felt that he had all the riches and love that a person could desire. He knew that somewhere inside of him there was a little boy who yearned for a hug from his mother or a firm pat on the back from his father.
He didn’t ignore that part of himself either. He just quenched those desires in different ways. Like when Seonghwa invited him into the kitchen while he was making dinner to let him make gravy or when he kneeled behind Hongjoong under the bathroom sink while he hammered at a loose pipe with a wrench like he had any right to be wielding it. When Mingi screamed, peeking through his fingertips, as he attempted to instruct San on how to drive a manual transmission for the first time. When Wooyoung made him homemade chicken ginseng soup the last time he got sick and hand fed it to him until he felt well enough to hold his own spoon.
It was something that both Wooyoung and San learned very quickly in the still quiet world of being anything but straight.
You get to choose your family.
Sure… it hurt like hell when you lost the family that created and raised you, but sometimes your new family was even better.
San places his hands on either side of Wooyoung’s head as he dips his head in for another kiss that is more urgent than the last. He groans as he feels Wooyoung’s deft hands slip into his back pockets to pull their lower halves closer together. When they make contact, Wooyoung’s lips part to let out a content sigh.
“God… I needed this.” He moans out as he feels San’s lips move to his neck while still pressing their clothed bodies together. The sensation is dulled in comparison to actual contact but still appreciated by both men. On one particularly lewd suck on his now exposed collarbone, Wooyoung feels as if the ground under his feet is trembling. His hands slide from San’s ass to the wall behind him for stability, and he finds that it wasn’t in his mind at all. Not only was the ground shaking, the walls were too.
Their bodies separate in an instant at the realization, and Wooyoung coughs as dust and debris begins sprinkling down from above and around them like shining particles of moonlight.
“Shit… is the cavern collapsing? What the hell is going on?” San shouts in a panic as he speeds across the room to grab their backpacks from near the entrance. “Woo, what are you doing? We have to go! This place feels like it’s gonna cave in!”
But Wooyoung isn’t moving. He’s just staring at the far wall of the cave with a dumb, horrified expression as the dust continues layering his warm skin like a blanket. The rumbling at their feet and around them slows then halts within half a minute, but Wooyoung is still stuck in his spot with his eyes unmoving.
“Woo--what the f--”
You made me lose count.
Both men fall to their knees with twin shouts and clutch at their ears. San’s eyes can barely stay open, but he tries to force them open to make sure Wooyoung is okay. His head throbs again under the weight of the next words.
I had reached my highest number in what felt like eons , and you. made. me. lose. count!
Wooyoung’s lip trembles as the low, menacing tone in his mind finishes his tirade with what appeared to be verbal foot stomps. Like a child having a tantrum.
He takes a shaky breath and forces himself to pry one eye open to look across the room again with trepidation. The far wall was empty, stone chains and flowers crushed and mangled on the dusty floor, and just a few feet away stood... an entity.
Standing at only 5’8’’, the entity isn’t tall per se, but his presence is enormous. Light seems to dance in waves along every inch of his creamy, poreless skin. His hair, equally pallid, seems to almost float around his blank, emotionless face. There is a loudness to his silence that renders both San and Wooyoung speechless and endlessly intimidated.
You dare ignore a question from an anointed prince ? One of His own warriors in the most righteous battle there ever was?
The entity’s wings are massive when extended at almost six feet each; flaunting gleaming, alabaster plumage laced with gold and silver filigree that catches the light of Wooyoung’s trembling head lamp easily. Wooyoung, still on his knees, lowers his head almost to the ground and lets his fingers splay out on the ground in front of him in a deep bow. He attempts to speak, but his voice gets caught in his throat with each attempt.
You would be wise to speak when I allow it.
“We-We-We’re sorry… uhh.. Mister… umm sir? Prince? We didn’t mean t-t-to bother you.” San mumbles out in a tone wobbly with brimming tears.
The being blinks twice, and his blank expression wavers. His eyes move to Wooyoung, who is still maintaining his prostrate position, and he lets out one soft laugh.
Both men glance over at him with trepidation as his laugh evolves into a full bellied chortle. If straight faced was scary then overjoyed was a vision from their nightmares. There was really no telling what thoughts could possibly be causing the entity such unbridled bliss.
“Uh...um...are you going to punish us now or something?” Wooyoung squeaks out while still watching the display with fearful confusion.
Punish you? No… I’m not going to punish you. I owe you my existence. Most beautiful boy...your blood has awakened me from a millenium of conscious stasis. My bones and blood and skin is alive with the air that you breathe and the blood that you pump.
There is only silence as Wooyoung and San watch in awe as the terrifying and gorgeous creature nears them with silent footsteps. He is barely dressed in only a thin gown that leaves his arms, legs, and feet completely bare. Wooyoung pinches his own thigh to keep his mind from straying to thoughts one shouldn’t have in the presence of an all-seeing deity.
Before I continue forth to complete my mission...you are owed recompense for your loyalty and bravery to the right side of the most eternal war. I have almost unlimited power at my fingertips. What would you ask of me?
San didn’t realize that he had grown accustomed to the low, saccharine voice floating around his mind so intimately until the last question was uttered. What was initially unbearable in its unfamiliar closeness was now a comforting massage to each corner of his busy mind.
“We don’t really need anything actually. We just kind of want to go home at this point....mr. angel?” Wooyoung mumbles while attempting to slide up into a more comfortable kneeling position.
In a second, Wooyoung and San are shocked to find themselves, their gear, all of the treasure, and the being himself back at the looming opening of the cave they had just descended into.
Done. Surely you must want something. Anything.
San cleared his throat and timidly started, “Actually...I was just wondering something.”
The winged being’s face melts into a soft smile as he nods politely.
San’s cheeks are tinged red when he continues, “What did you mean when you said your mission?”
The soft smile on the creature’s face multiplies and seems to hold its own special glow at the question. He grabs San’s left hand in his own right hand and Wooyoung’s right hand in his left hand and lets out a harmonious tinkling of laughter.
Of course, how would I expect you to know? I am Yeosang. One of His most treasured angelic princes sent to Earth to cleanse it of its human inhabitants for their deeds most wretched and uncouth.
His smile doesn’t dim even as San and Wooyoung’s faces crumple at the admission.
“I’m sorry… Maybe I’m misunderstanding something. With utmost respect, are you saying that we have freed a divine being from bondage to decimate the human race?” San asks around a severely bitten lip.
A human race most foul, rife with sins so unforgivable. Yes, I believe you understand completely.
San smiles in a stilted way and glances over at Wooyoung who was still silently staring at Yeosang.
So before all that… is there anything that I can do to help you two soldiers most dedicated to the highest cause?
San’s mouth moves but nothing comes out. He has no idea what someone could say in a situation like this. He finds himself looking over at Wooyoung again for his input. He’s not exactly sure what he was expecting his partner to say, but when Wooyoung begins to speak, he has to do a double take.
“Would you like to come over to our house for dinner before you finish your mission?” Wooyoung asks politely while looking straight into Yeosang’s eyes.
The angel pauses and rubs at his neck as if he’s confused. He looks as if he plans to speak, but their minds are silent. It takes a few seconds, but Yeosang does finally speak. This time he actually clears his throat and opens his mouth. It takes a few tries, but he finally manages to respond, “Go to your house for dinner? To eat food?”
The voice that comes out is just as low and honey sweet as the voice that bounced around their minds, and it makes Wooyoung’s nervous smile grow slightly as he nods. “Yeah... we’re having our weekly family dinner, and I thought it might be nice for you to join us. You must be hungry after such a long time down there.”
Yeosang seems befuddled but he nods and concludes, “I suppose if that’s all that you want. That should be easy enough.”
San finally decides to speak up, “Can you also help us get all this stuff in our car?”
Yeosang laughs slightly and nods. “Yes of course…” He seems confused for a moment then continues, “But what is a car?”