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The wispy murmurs of the shades scattered across the House of Hades greets him the moment he steps out of the pool of the River Styx. A few of the shades lingering near the edge jump out of fright and move away, giving the Prince of the Underworld a wide berth as he stomps past them while muttering string after string of curses towards his father.
He had been so close . He was already out, and yet the old man had cut him down easily, as if he was nothing more than a lowly wretch bound by the god of the dead to do his bidding in preventing his son from reaching the surface.
Soobin shakes his matted hair, clawing at the strands to expel the remaining droplets of the Styx– he’s dripping with the essence of the river and making a mess of the hallway. The carpeted floors of the palace are soaked from where he has stepped, as with hints of scorch marks from his ever-flaming feet.
Maybe the House Contractor has a towel rack that can be installed , he muses lazily. But he doesn’t swing by the contractor’s desk. He doesn’t really care that he’s soiled the carpeting. If it makes his father even more pissed at him, then that’s a definite win (and a huge middle finger to his face).
His father is nowhere to be seen, and Soobin has half a mind to wreck his desk. But the satisfaction from throwing a tantrum is not nearly enough as beating the literal Hell out of him just so he can finally meet his mother.
Cerberus, though, is there. The three-headed beast and Soobin’s most loyal companion ever since he was a child is nosing at the Satyr Sack that he had bribed him with back at the Temple to let him through the final gateway to the surface. One of his heads perks up the moment Soobin steps into the throne room and barks once; another head responds with a yip and lolls out a tongue, happy.
“Hey, boy. I’m back,” Soobin greets the hellhound with a fond smile. He tries to ignore the fetid smell from the sack. He doesn’t know how he hadn’t noticed it before, the awful stench reeking from it. “You like what I got you?”
Another bark, a swish of tail. Happy.
Though happy to see the beloved prince or happy because of the stinking bag of– well, Soobin doesn’t even want to know what exactly he had gifted the dog. At least he’s not destroying House property again, after the first time where he had been devastated when finding out Soobin had left him on his very first escape attempt.
Soobin leans into one of his heads, arms outstretched in a hug that doesn’t even envelope the huge hound in the slightest, but Cerberus leans into him regardless. He whines, and another of his head nudges Soobin.
“I was almost there, Cerberus. I could feel her,” Soobin murmurs into the red fur. “I really thought I could finally see her. But, father. Ugh .”
Cerberus whines again, empathetic towards the prince’s plight. “That’s okay, buddy. It means I’ll just have to try again, don’t I?”
The answer comes in the form of an encouraging bark, but Soobin can see the look of worry in his piercing green eyes. He knows Cerberus wishes nothing more than to follow him wherever he goes, to protect him and to serve him, but he is also tied to Hades himself. And that takes precedence over his love towards the prince.
Soobin can never fault him for that. Hades is the master of this realm, after all. Every soul residing in the Underworld belongs to him, and yet Soobin smugly holds the gold medal for being the only one with enough balls to defy him.
He pets the hellhound one last time. “I’ll see you later, buddy,” he says before making his way towards his chambers.
He passes by the lounge to see if anyone he knows is there. He’s a little disappointed to see that Yeonjun isn’t at the bar downing spiced Nectars. The whip-wielding Fury is probably still sore and cranky that he had beaten him in order to ascend to Asphodel.
It suddenly hits him now that the House is mostly silent save for the wandering shades awaiting judgment from Hades and the employees of the House. He doesn’t hear Dusa’s soft hums floating across the hallways as she cleans, nor is Huening Kai the court musician at his seat playing music to lighten up the usual somber mood of the House. He has never seen his home so empty and devoid of life before.
But Soobin shrugs it off immediately. He isn’t planning to stay for long, and warm and familiar faces won’t deter him from succeeding in his mission.
Thinking nothing of it any longer, he opens the doors to his chambers and immediately turns towards the mirror to reflect on his last escape attempt. He wagers that with the Darkness he’s harnessed along the way, he can certainly acquire an item that allows him to defy death itself. With it, he may have a winning chance against his old man, see who has the last smug fucking grin as the other descends back to the Underworld, defeated.
“Nice!” he cheers, instantly equipping the potion procured by the mirror.
As he turns around to run right back out towards the chambers of Tartarus, Soobin screams and almost jumps out of his skin when he notices the last person he’d thought of seeing before he left lying casually on his bed.
Death Incarnate fixes him with a stern and almost dispassionate stare that doesn't really fall through, especially when Soobin can easily detect the soft underlying fondness deep within his cold eyes. His lips quirk into an amused grin from having startled the prince.
“You’re so eager to get back out there,” Taehyun says. It’s a statement, but they both hear the question without it needing to be spoken.
Without saying goodbye?
Soobin crosses his arms over his chest, thinking it would stamp down the erratic beating of his heart. It thunders against his ribcage, pounds against his flesh from seeing his lover lounging on his bed, looking as if he has all the time in the world for him now.
But he knows Taehyun doesn’t, not realistically anyway. His job demands him to trade away time for the thousands of souls he collects to fill the Underworld. He rarely makes time for him these days. And when they do meet it’s when Soobin is out battling wretches, and if he thought Taehyun would be of any help in lending him a hand, he had poorly misjudged the other’s indifference towards his struggles.
Taehyun has a twisted sense of humor. This he knows and is very familiar with. Turning the battles into a competition to see who can slay the most wretches is not the help Soobin would have appreciated, but when he ends up the winner and Taehyun vanishes with a pout on his lips, he would leave him a potion to heal his injuries with. Soobin appreciates it regardless.
The prince knows it's his way of showing his support, that he cares as much as his heart allows him to while he’s on the job– that if it were up to him alone he would aid Soobin to the very top. But, just as Cerberus is directly tied to Hades, Taehyun has been under the master’s servitude for a long time and pledges loyalty to the House and to his duties as Death. He reveres his father and dares not go against him.
But through small acts of backhanded assistance around the harsh lands of Tartarus? Sure, Soobin will take what he can get.
“I’m not having another conversation with you about this, Taehyun. I told you. I have to do this.”
Taehyun hums but doesn’t try to dissuade him as he usually does. His gaze never falters, and it only serves to root Soobin to his spot, open to be subjected to Taehyun’s personal scrutiny.
He squirms. He’s itching to get back out there as soon as possible. But he’s also dying to know why Death Incarnate is on his bed with such lax and with a silent invitation into something they’ve both been craving but never given the chance to properly initiate.
“If there’s nothing else–”
“Won’t you rest? Taehyun cuts him off, and it takes a few seconds for Soobin to process those words.
He’s never needed rest before. He can go days without it ever affecting his health and performance. Why would he rest when he’s still not even close to getting where he needs to be?
Taehyun finally sits up and pats his lap, his black robe slightly hiked up from the change in position and leaving nothing to the imagination. Nothing that Soobin hasn’t seen before, anyway.
“Come here, prince.”
It takes an embarrassing whole minute for Soobin to even remember how to work his legs. But Taehyun is patient; knows that the prince’s mind is set on a goal so absolute that his body has no choice but to adhere to it. And yet he knows his heart. Taehyun knows him so well, enough to know that he won’t turn away from him.
Slowly, Soobin walks towards him. He glances out the balcony doorway, conflicted and with a longing so sharp that he almost gives in to it if Taehyun doesn’t call out to him again. He tears his gaze away to instead focus on his lover staring up at him. Up close like this, the soft adoration gracing his normally stoic features is even more prominent. Soobin knows him well too– the look that is reserved only for him in the privacy they create for themselves, away from the prying eyes of the other occupants of the House.
The silver-haired Chthonic God immediately wraps his arms around his slim waist, and Soobin climbs into his lap– secured, it all feels right. He sighs.
“Why the sudden clinginess? Do you miss me that much?” Soobin, despite himself, is draped over Taehyun like an oversized puppy, resting his chin on the other man’s shoulder.
Taehyun hums again, and with their chests pressed together so close like this, Soobin feels the vibration thrum on his skin. “Maybe. Or I’m just here to make sure you rest.”
The prince pulls away to fix Taehyun with a stare. “I don’t need rest, Taehyun. You know that. It’s not important and I have no time for it–”
“Even when I’ve made time for you?”
Soobin reels. His mouth opens and closes with nothing intelligible to offer the sudden counter. Well, there is one word that manages to escape his brain to mouth filter: “Huh?”
He watches as Taehyun ducks down, eyelashes fluttering slowly in a way that denotes shyness, as if disclosing this piece of information would earn him unfavorable opinions among the other occupants. His hands are on Soobin’s hips now, thumbs drawing soothing circles into the dips beneath his robe.
“I took a day off. For you.”
“What–? Why would you do that?”
“To take care of you, stupid,” Taehyun snaps his head up at him, and there’s that defiant glow in his eyes that Soobin misses. “Why? Is that so hard to believe? That Death can’t take a day off?”
“No, it’s not that! Why would you take a day off for the sole reason of making me rest? You could be doing a hundred other things besides this. I can look after myself, Taehyun.”
Hurt flashes across his features, but Taehyun doesn’t let it overpower him. He knows the prince is brash, knows how much he prioritizes his mission above all else– even if he was opposed to it from the beginning, he knows now that nothing can stop Soobin from escaping this place, ultimately leaving him and everyone behind– but the thought of him barely resting after so many attempts has Taehyun’s heart in knots.
For all his curt and oftentimes spiteful conversations with Soobin due to his own initial feeling of betrayal, he knows that the one thing he can do right by him in moments like these is to love him well.
Taking care of him and making sure he knows that Taehyun will always love him is why he applied for the leave in the first place. He’s surprised the lord even granted it.
(Not really. Hades has mentioned offhandedly multiple times how Taehyun is one of his best employees. He deserves this. Soobin deserves this.)
He brings Soobin’s hands together, cupping them in his and squeezing gently. “Can’t you let me do this for you, prince? I want to care for you. I want to take care of you.”
Taehyun places a soft kiss on each finger before looking up at him in earnest. Both his reason and the tender display of affection that follows is enough to cool Soobin’s fires that are misplaced, reducing him into a puddle of melted wax.
This: soft feather-like touches, kisses that linger and seep into flesh, and gaze carrying the weight of the word ‘love’ itself is what Soobin misses the most, forced to only witness in secrecy. Moments like this outweigh their constant bantering filled with snarky comments thrown to the air, meaningless, and cold shoulders that are always warmed the next time they meet.
And Soobin knows he's been depriving himself of this. Of them. But Taehyun makes it easy; it’s only ever easy with Taehyun.
Whenever he’s with him, he never has to put up walls; all of it comes crashing down the moment he so much as touches him. He only needs to let go and Taehyun will be there.
His silver-haired lover moves his hands to cup his face. Soobin loves it when Taehyun holds him like this, as if he is his most coveted treasure containing riches unparalleled to those within Charon’s possessions. The thorough and utmost precision of care whenever he handles him is why Soobin gets to see the vulnerable parts that the God of Death trusts him to see.
Being born a prince has its unending wealth of privileges, but none quite like this– the delicate tenderness of Taehyun’s heart bared to him and only him, his love and devotion a fire that will never be doused of its eternal flame. Having the privilege of loving and being loved by Taehyun is the one thing Soobin will never trade for anything in the world, not even the most lucrative of boons the Gods of Olympus might offer him.
Taehyun kisses him slow and sweet, taking his time to remember the feeling of his lover’s lips on his, to remember the taste so it never washes off his tongue. The prince goes pliant in his touch, as he always does. He allows his mind to quiet down, to settle into a space that lets him chase after that euphoria he’s been missing all this while, one that only Taehyun can provide.
He angles his head to the side so he can deepen the kiss, tongues out to lap the other’s warm breath and to swallow the sounds that escape.
Soobin tangles his fingers in silver locks, tipping Taehyun’s head up slightly until their kisses become too heated– their breaths draw short and there’s not enough space to be even closer, closer , closer . Closer so Soobin can lose himself entirely and let Taehyun guide him through.
It’s Taehyun who breaks for air, leaving his mouth to instead trail kisses down his chin, making a hazy beeline downwards and placing lovebites over the expanse of his neck and collarbone. Soobin sighs, relishing in this moment that the both of them rarely get for themselves.
All of a sudden, Taehyun’s lips stutter to a stop, hovering right above his chest. “What’s wrong?” Soobin asks, breath hitching in between as he reigns his mind back to reality.
“Your scars…” his fingers touch the smooth skin, lightly tracing over the healed, almost invisible battle wounds Soobin had sustained from his previous run-ins with wretches, Furies and champions of the Gods alike.
His eyes are glowing gold as he rakes over the prince’s body– the deep gashes and cuts, the puncture wounds and scorched skin and blackened bruises. He sees them all. And Soobin feels small all of a sudden, unworthiness bubbling in the pits of his stomach and threatening to spill out.
“Don’t. Don’t look,” his hand moves to cover his chest, pulling his robe tighter around him.
Sensing the slight tremble in his voice, Taehyun stops him. “Look at me, love.” Soobin’s gaze is downcast for a moment, but he does look at Taehyun while the other’s thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of his hand still clenching his robe.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything ill by it. They’re beautiful, your scars. You’re beautiful, Soobin, always.”
Taehyun isn’t one to lie. Everything about him is clear-cut, precise. He knows this, but his honesty barely makes a dent in Soobin’s stubborn insecurities turned negative self-deprecation. Even if they’ve seen each other’s bodies and explored every crevice in ways no one else has, it doesn’t tamp down the anxious feeling of being laid bare with all the ugliness on full display permanently etched onto his skin.
Soobin yelps as his vision of the room suddenly blurs, and in one swift motion his head hits the softness of his pillows. The breath is knocked out of him, but he’s rendered fully breathless as he locks eyes with Taehyun hovering above him.
“You think too loudly, Soobin. I can hear every thought.”
The silver-haired male reaches for something on his bedside table and he hears a fire being lit before the room is instantly awash in a sweet-smelling scent. It slowly morphs into the one scent– or more accurately, taste – he knows by heart.
Of fast winds and billows of black smoke; hints of rain and the potent scent of night-blooming jasmine; the smell of home and the warm sensation of being held. He smells Taehyun.
“Ambrosia?”
Taehyun turns back to him and smiles. It’s a smile that leaves no room for uncertainties. The kind of smile Taehyun wears when he greets him in the hallways, the kind that Soobin loves to keep in little snapshots to remember the personification of Death by.
“Got it from Hypnos. He says it helps him sleep– well, not that he needs any help with that . But he does mention it ‘wards away the nightmares’. I’m counting on it to calm you down.”
Soobin cranes his neck to look at the scented candle burning slow, the incandescent flame creating fat rolls of wax that seem to create thicker waves of fragrance the more it drips down into the candle holder. He breathes in deep and tastes Taehyun on his tongue; in the back of his throat; in his lungs until it fills him up with his essence.
So full .
He realizes belatedly once he comes down from the pleasant high of the Ambrosia that Taehyun has undressed him, though the other remains fully clothed. He opens his mouth to object, the worries from earlier rattling his ribcage like a trapped animal, but Taehyun swiftly kisses him, effectively dispelling the words right on the tip of his tongue.
“I want you to quiet your mind and listen to me, love, can you do that for me?”
A nod, slightly hesitant. He’s rewarded with a soft peck on the lips nonetheless.
“I promised I would take care of you and see to it that you rest, didn’t I? Now relax, love. I’ll show you how perfect you are for me.”
Soobin gasps the moment Taehyun’s hands smooth down his pecs and onto the planes of his toned stomach, fingers applying light pressure on his abs before traveling upwards again and down his muscled arms. He crawls on top of Soobin to latch his mouth on the side of his neck, as if continuing where they left off earlier. His hands don’t stop their ministrations on the prince’s body.
With each kiss, each suckle and bite and warm breath fanning his heated skin, Taehyun murmurs “Beautiful.”
His lips offer praise and worship unto Soobin. He makes sure to decorate every available expanse where the scars once adorned Soobin’s skin with his own symbol of love that he hopes is everlasting, even if the marks fade away with time.
He moves downwards, paying close attention to how Soobin reacts to him. The prince is mostly silent, though he hears him whine on occasion, especially when he mouths “My pretty little thing / Look at how beautiful you are, love / You’re perfect for me” into his skin. And when he reaches a particularly nasty scar, one only he can see clearly, he spends time on it, caressing and leaving touches that linger as if Soobin is made of porcelain before diving in to leave kisses.
Soobins’ chest heaves with the weight of all the praises, dripping saccharine sweet yet with a sincerity that makes his head spin and hard to breathe. Every time Taehyun kisses a ghost of a scar, it sends a pleasant shiver that wracks his entire body and makes his toes curl in barely concealed relief and satisfaction.
He doesn’t feel troubled anymore. The scented Ambrosia has toned it down until it is a miniscule voice in the back of his head, easily diminished just by Taehyun’s words alone. He feels his body becoming lighter, feels himself slowly drifting into a safe headspace.
“Ngh– Taehyun,” Soobin whines when his lover lifts his leg to trail kisses down his inner thigh.
Taehyun regards him with a look so full of love and deep-rooted fondness that it almost makes Soobin cry. “You have scars here too, my love. Every part of you is perfect; your scars are perfect to me.”
“So beautiful…” Taehyun trails off as he leaves light markings on the supple flesh. He continues to appreciate every inch of Soobin, traveling lower and lower and not once pausing in between.
Soobin feels his throat tighten, can feel the impending sob breaking through the cracks of his slowly crumbling composure. In this very moment, he feels raw and exposed and yet there is no discomfort, only love that pours from deep within Taehyun’s heart and onto his body.
It’s overwhelming. It consumes him. It envelops him so tightly that there’s barely any room to breathe or think– his mind, his heart and his soul has Taehyun imprinted in them with great meticulous care.
All of him is all of Taehyun.
“I love you.” Soobin finally breaks.
Taehyun is quick to hold him, surging upwards to meet him halfway in a comforting hug. “I know, love. I love you, I love you so much, Soobin.”
The prince clings onto him like a lifeline until his thundering heart slows to an even rhythm. Taehyun soothes him and kisses his forehead. Gentle as always. “I’m here. I’m here.”
He hears Soobin mumble something into his shoulder and he giggles before pulling away to hear it again. “Thank you, Taehyun.”
Taehyun beams at that. If Soobin has never seen the sun before, he thinks that Taehyun’s smile may be equivalent to it or even brighter.
“I have the whole day to indulge in you, my prince. I’d best make the most of it.” Another kiss on the lips, fleeting and lovely.
“Now, how does sleep sound? Your eyes are drooping, by the way.”
“No, it’s not!” Soobin counters, indignant even when he fails to suppress the yawn that follows soon after. Taehyun laughs at that.
He gently pushes Soobin down onto the bed and takes his rightful place beside him, but before he can properly settle in, Soobin turns to him with a question hanging over his head.
“What is it?”
There’s a deep shade of crimson coloring the prince’s cheeks. Even if his chambers reek of Taehyun thanks to the Ambrosia and with him physically being there, he wants to feel even more; wants to be impossibly full of Taehyun.
“Need you to fill me up,” he says.
The silver-haired nods, immediately picking up on the prince’s request. “Of course, my love, anything for you. But only if you promise you’ll sleep after.”
“I will! I just need you in me.”
Taehyun tilts his chin up and kisses him fully on the mouth, tongue teasing the seams before he whispers against his lips, “We can do even more once you wake up. Would you like that?”
He laughs when Soobin’s eyes widen and nods his head vigorously, like an over-excited Cerberus during feeding time. “Lie down now, on your side.”
Reaching just underneath Soobin’s pillows, he uncaps the bottle of lube and squirts a generous amount onto his palm before placing it back under. He strokes his cock, lathering the length completely before lying down behind Soobin, pulling up the covers until they’re snuggled in its warmth.
He kisses his ear and whispers, “I’m putting in one,” before inserting a finger to stretch him out. Soobin shivers at the slick intrusion, body slightly arched when Taehyun pushes in another. He takes his time in preparing Soobin, making sure his body is comfortable knowing it’s been some time since their last session.
It feels like an eternity before Soobin breathes a sigh of relief when Taehyun finally aligns the head of his cock to his entrance. Taehyun holds his thighs in place before slowly sliding in, both breathing heavily at the familiar pleasurable sensation as he bottoms out.
“Feeling better?” Taehyun asks, adjusting his body slightly so he doesn’t fall asleep in an awkward position. He drapes his arm around Soobin, and Soobin pulls his clean hand into his and interlaces their fingers.
“Mm. So full. Thank you, Tyun,” he responds sleepily.
Taehyun smiles to himself and closes his eyes. “Good.”
The God of Death eventually succumbs to sleep as soon as he hears the soft snores of the son of Hades, who is currently slumbering in his arms, safe and loved.