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Two youths race along the seaside, one a small girl who could not be any further than five years, with skinny legs and a bright smile on her face. She was missing two bottom teeth, but when the older boy had slowed down to look back at his sister, he could hear her laughter even above the sound of the crashing waves. She has a sweet little face, one that rivaled a young Persephone who hid behind her mother’s skirts growing up.
The sun seemed to fall even brighter on the taller figure of the boy. He was of great beauty, the kind that caused any person in the city to pause to stare in wonder at the youth. It was rumored that Aphrodite herself had pressed a kiss across the prince’s forehead at his birth, and that when he first opened his eyes, all people in the room stared in awe at the breathtaking color that rivaled the sea that surrounded the city. His short black hair curled around his graceful jawline, and there was a soft twinkle in his eyes as he paused so his sister could catch up.
The two royals were unaware that they were being watched, that the Sun right above stopping its journey through the sky. Pure golden eyes were trained on the figure of the prince. The noises of the horses attached to the chariot the lovesick god was in were far too high to cause any disruptions.
He had been waiting for what felt like millenia. He had felt like solar fire had been rushing through his veins rather than ichor, bursting through his very skin. He dares not take his eyes off the prince below -- any time staring away from his love felt like a sin. Yet, his impatience was finally settling into his mind.
He had wanted, had craved, had desired for months now. He had been so taken by the beauty with eyes the color of the sea the first time he stumbled across the mortal. He remembers when he had disguised himself as mortal in order to watch the archery competition that was happening in the very city his beloved came from. He had been standing in the large courtyard, prepared to see who would be a worthy opponent if he so desired to join in. Instead, his eyes had wandered, and he remembered he had to cover his gasp.
Adoration had been a part of him since the moment he heard his laugh. He remembers how the disguise flickered for a moment. He remembers people he had been around suddenly stumbling away as the heat of the air around them had gotten, all of them sweating profusely and desperately sucking in air. He remembers the prince, for one second, looking over in his direction. Their eyes had met and Apollo had been a goner from the start, because as soon as he saw those eyes crinkle in a smile, as soon as he saw the way his cute nose had wrinkled with his splitting smile, he was filled with such longing that he had never once felt in his entirety of existence.
For a being who did not need to breathe, he had felt like he needed to suck in the air around the prince greedily, as if he was a mortal struck with an arrow from Eros and needed to pathetically choke the pain away from the initial sting.
But there is no use remembering in this moment, because in this moment, Prince Perseus would be his. He could not wait a second more for his love.
Just as the princess had caught up with her brother, Perseus slowed his stride in order to cover ground at the same time. And that was all the Sun needed.
He tugged on the reins of his sacred horses, ordering them lower and lower. He sees that the princess first makes contact with his golden chariot. Her eyes widened in shock, but she couldn’t get a single word out while she still ran next to her brother.
The young girl stared at the beautiful, beautiful man who was low enough to the ground that Estelle could make out his golden eyes, his long hair that seemed to be of the same shade of the sun above her and her brother. She was struck with the feeling, for the first time in her life, that this man was of another world. She could make out the sound of her mother’s voice lecturing her on the Gods, and she knew there was no mistake that this youth was. More than any other characteristic, she could make out how the man’s eyes never strayed towards her. They were locked on to her brother, sharp and filled with an emotion that wouldn’t come to her until she was much, much older. The complete and utter desire to possess someone.
She couldn't open her mouth in time to yell at him, because a tanned arm reached out and curled around Perseus’s waist, and the prince’s body was scooped up into the ornate chariot. Perseus tosses his head to the left, burning hands pressed gently around his waist, scorching his skin beneath his chiton in the most delicious way. He turns and meets the eyes of his captor.
There was no mistaking Phoebus Apollo. Percy couldn’t breathe, the scent of sunshine flooding his senses, the glint gold of his eyes and hair almost making his eyes have to squint to adjust, the sight of those pearly white teeth bared in a way that makes Percy think the God wants to devour him.
The wind picks up as Apollo’s famed horses race upwards, and Perseus presses close to the God in fear of falling out.
“I would never let you fall,” a melodious, deep voice says soothingly. It is both loud and soft, ringing in Perseus’s ears pleasantly. The voice alone was full of promises and intentions, but fear raced through his veins when the God continued, “If anything were to ever harm you, I shall burn this earth to nothingness.” The prince is still too stunned at the God’s beautiful eyes being focused on him. He shivers at the clear messages the golden showed.
The prince turns his head away, and can’t blink the tears forming in his eyes, from both the change in wind patterns as the horses continue upwards and upwards, to the wailing of his young sister on the beach far below, getting further away. He can barely make out her yelling his name over and over. He almost lurches forward at the sound of her confusion and agony, but the same hand as before scoops him back upwards and presses him against one of the God’s tanned thighs.
Apollo brings up the hand that had brought Perseus closer to his face. The heat was welcomed in the change of altitude. It was terrifying, how easily it was to fall into this handsome being. The clear desire to possess Perseus hung heavily in the air, but the way the sun god gently cupped his face reverently, as if he was the holy being, had the prince’s eyes fluttering shut. He heard a sharp intake of air, and cracked open his eyes to see Apollo’s perfect mouth dropped open slightly, the god’s eyes hazy with something akin to wonder and awe.
“You are mine now,” is said, and if Perseus had known better he would have thought the statement was filled with adoration. “I have wanted to steal you for eons now.” Harsher this time, filled with so much darkness the prince was almost frightened, “You are mine, now. My beautiful prince. My beautiful husband.”
“Eons?” he asks as soon as he’s able to speak. He swallows as the god’s eyes focus on the way his lips moved with his words, and then his throat bobbing. It made the prince hot with want, and he squirms. Closer or further away from the god, he couldn't tell, but the hand that had not let him turn his head was firm, digging into his jaw to make sure he didn't dare look away.
“Eons,” Apollo confirms. His eyes fall to half-masted, and his hands drag across the curve of Perseus’s face until his thumb, calloused and the perfect temperature, pressed into the prince’s plump lower lip. Whispered devotion flows from the god’s lips, “The red shade of your lips is something I will never be able to replicate, though I have tried time and time again in the sunset above your kingdom so that my intentions to court you were there, even if you were blissfully unaware. And now,” something lustful fills Apollo’s eyes in a way that makes Perseus’s thighs clench together, “I can finally worship you, starting with making those lips bruise.”
And when the Sun dips lower, pressing his mouth against the prince’s, it was truly as if Perseus had been fully conquered and devoured.