Archive of Our Own

Running isn’t something Leehan isn’t familiar with. That’s all he has ever done.

He has never had a father, his mother had been dead for almost a decade, forcing him into the system, whether he liked to or not. Of course he had been told that he’d get a choice to move out and live on his own once he was 18, but he never dared to.

Routine.

Everything was a routine to him.

That’s what worked best.

A routine keeps everything balanced. It keeps everything neat. It allows your brain room to breathe, knowing it won’t have to worry about what’s coming, because a routine is always thought out.

So imagine his reaction when he was attacked by a fucking Echidna while on his usual morning run.

Yes. An Echidna. Like the one in mythology?

Now, Leehan loves history.

He liked learning about the world wars, he liked following the quote “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” with a “but it fell in one,” just to piss his friends off, he liked powerful women in history and he liked mythology—but this was too much.

So, yes. Leehan was a demigod.

He was rescued by a satyr by the name of Jaehyun and brought into a camp that expanded triple its size once you passed the gates. One that would keep him safe as nothing evil could pass the gates to get to the campers. Naturally, Leehan secretly hoped that this camp would be able to save him from his best friend Jaehyun as well.

He was safe now, at last.

Leehan had spent his first night in the infirmary. Some campers—well, technically nurses—searching him up for any wounds. A day later he was moved to the Hermes cabin, as it was the one for the technically lost children, waiting for the claiming.

It was okay.

Leehan was just annoyed that he wasn’t allowed to take care of his things yet. Jaehyun told him he had a feeling he would get claimed on day two, as it’s the usual limit for newcomers, so he encouraged Leehan to stay packed and ready to be moved.

That annoyed Leehan.

He liked being organized. He liked knowing where his things were at all times, what was hidden in each pocket in his bag and shirts, what he had written in each notebook he carried with him. Everything had to be neat. Even his sketchbooks.

So being stuck in that cabin was really what he imagined hell being like. Well, what he used to imagine it like before he realized there’s no such thing as hell. There’s only Tartarus now.

Leehan picked up the Greek thing quite easily. The sudden “Oh you’re probably, well definitely, a God’s son and you’re now a magnet for mythological monsters and disasters and have to now live in this camp for probably ever, but it’s okay, because even without trying you’re a hero and magically understand and write and read modern Greek along with Ancient Greek and you’re also in a camp filled with equally weird teenagers that are also your cousins, but you aren’t actually related to them because Gods don’t have DNA, so if you want to make out with one you ca—”

Leehan was very gullible, he realized.

“You ready?” Jaehyun asked, catching up to Leehan, who was just walking around the camp, searching for a safe place he could go to if everything got too much.

“For what?”

“Capture the flag, of course.” Jaehyun replied, smiling. “We’re playing soon. And by soon I mean right now.”

“What?” Leehan shook Jaehyun by the sleeve. “Why didn’t you tell me!”

“How did you not know, dumbass? It’s Friday!” Jaehyun pushed the blonde boy off.

“Jaehyun.”

“Oh.” Jaehyun smiled awkwardly. “Forgot. You’re new.”

Leehan gave him a tight smile, no teeth.

He sighed.

Capture the flag sounded like such a drag. He’d much rather spend his day looking for high hills to sit on and witness the sunset in peace, wishing for his literal Godfather to finally allow him a change of cabins. Get into a cleaner one. Much better than whatever cabin 11 had going on. He could’ve sworn he saw a little family of ants crawl under his pillow a few minutes ago.

“Fine.” Leehan closed his eyes. “Fine, what do I have to do again?”

“Uhm, get some…protection.” Jaehyun scratched his neck. “Armor. Helmet. A good weapon.”

“Jesus Christ, you cannot be serious.”

“Leehan.” Jaehyun’s voice dropped a few octaves. “I promise you, you’ll need to cover everything.”

•

Leehan hates Jaehyun.

He really does.

He hates Jaehyun, he hates this camp, he hates nature, he hates the Gods, he hates his so-called cousins, he hates everyone and everything.

More so, he hates how his stupid brain can’t really work the sword he picked up right before the game started.

The Hermes cabin was featured in the blue team with their alliances, Poseidon and Athena. They decided that it would be best for Poseidon to work with Athena this time, as last time they were on opposite teams, the camp almost drowned in a huge tsunami.

Chiron saved it.

It was okay.

Leehan was running towards the middle of the forest, or so he’d like to believe he was. His sword wiggled in his grip, something Jaehyun had made fun of earlier on.

The forest was huge, Leehan realized. There weren’t as many tones of green as Leehan had expected. He was surrounded by the same shade of dark green and dark brown, which, to be honest, seemed to calm him down in a weird way. It wasn’t the chaos he had imagined a huge forest gifted to demigods to be.

Leehan was pretty sure he could hear voices when it was too quiet. When he stopped running so fast he could feel his heartbeat inside his eardrums. Soft, majestic voices, whispering his name, trying to gain his attention.

And then he fell for it.

Just when he was taking off his helmet, ensured he was safe and sound, away from the other demigods, he heard it.

Donghyun…

The usage of his legal name sent shivers down his spine. No one calls him that anymore.

Donghyun…

Leehan kept walking, allowing his legs to take complete control, following the voice. He stepped between two trees, the leaves softly caressing his head like they were petting him.

Two huge laurel trees, it seemed like.

But there was another smell in the air.

Leehan stepped inside an empty spot in the forest. There was no body of water in sight, only a huge circle of grass, surrounded by the trees. Trees so big and filled with leaves, Leehan wasn’t able to make out where the opening was that allowed the light to shine through.

It was odd.

The smell was odd too.

Something… fruity? Definitely fruity. Some type of summer fruit. Figs? Maybe? No, Leehan hadn’t eaten enough figs to remember how they smelled.

That’s right. Grapes. They were grapes.

The smell of grapes filled his nose the same way smoke did when his previous foster mother smoked those long, thin cigarettes she loved.

Grapes. A full plate of them, a full bowl of them.

But no grapes in sight.

Only the trees.

But that’s when he felt it around his heel.

A single, thin tree branch wrapping itself around Leehan’s heel. He made no sound when the tree branch suddenly flexed itself, causing pain and turning his vision upside down.

He also made no sound when a boy passed by him, yelling apologies and repeating each sentence twice. It wasn’t the shock that made him swallow his tongue, no. It was the boy itself.

Time stopped, for a moment. One singular moment, when the boy was close enough to Leehan for him to see his face.

Beautiful. The type of beauty poets wrote about. The type of beauty he read about but never once had seen with his own eyes.

Black hair, soft-looking and turning up around the split ends. Matching dark eyes whose disinterest made Leehan beg to be looked at. Pale skin, kissed by moles that begged to be kissed.

The boy was tall. Maybe as tall as Leehan was, but he couldn’t know for sure, considering his state right now. Upside down, hanging dramatically by a tree branch that might just be alive.

But he couldn’t care about his situation right now. Not when the smell of grapes was as strong as ever, intoxicating him completely, making him want more, wanting to be close. Wanting to drown in grape juice if it meant he could be filled with it. His skin would soak it, turning red, his fingers would turn wrinkly.

God. This boy was beautiful.

The boy passed by him quite quickly, all things considered.

“I’m so sorry, I had to do this, I’m so sorry…” The boy’s deep voice was heard, more distant with each passing second. He left just as quickly as he appeared.

And that was it.

A moment of complete chaos only to leave Leehan alone, hanging on his head.

Leehan was pretty sure he could feel his blood vessels fighting for their life. Given by the warmth of his face, he was definitely going to pass out in a few minutes due to his blood circulation panicking.

“There’s no way this happened to me.” Leehan talked to himself, like he does when he’s stressed. He looked around a little bit, looking for his knife, but no luck. And to be honest, Leehan was glad. His sword and him weren’t getting along that well.

Leehan tried to tear the branch apart with his hands, but it took too much energy in this position, so he quickly gave up. Yelling wouldn’t help either, he was sure. Calling for Jaehyun would only work in a perfect world and with the way things are going, Leehan knew this was nowhere near perfect.

So, Leehan gave up.

Instead, he started thinking of that boy.

Gorgeous.

Addicting.

Suddenly, something weird happened.

Someone shined a flashlight in Leehan’s face.

Which was weird, because he was alone.

And it wasn’t a flashlight.

It was something brighter. So bright, the trees had completely vanished from his vision, blurring it and causing Leehan’s eyes to shut and protect themselves.

It didn’t make sense. The trees were so big, no light was able to shine through and suddenly it’s so bright Leehan can’t see?

Everything was moving. A loud grumbling noise was heard, loud enough it could tear Leehan’s ears open. But it didn’t.

Leehan reached to cover his eyes, but it didn’t help.

Then, the tree branch, seemingly weak and giving up on the weight it was supposed to hold, threw Leehan on the ground, head first.

Leehan lay down, trying his best to move to safety. No luck. The light was still there.

Slowly though, the sound faded away. Leehan hadn’t realized he was covering his ears until the grumbling disappeared completely.

He dared to open his eyes.

He wasn’t alone anymore.

Chiron was there. The head of the Hermes cabin was there. Half of the cabin itself was there. A lot of campers, if not all, were there, staring at Leehan, big eyes, open mouths.

Leehan was out of breath completely.

The boy was staring at him too.

Finally, his eyes were on him.

The boy dropped to one knee. It was Leehan’s turn to look surprised.

Chiron did too. Well, on his…horse…knees. The front ones.

Jaehyun did as well. The other campers followed.

“Hail Donghyun,” Chiron said. “Son of Apollo.”

And there it was.

•

Partying wasn’t something Leehan did often, but this one was quite fun.

Apparently they did these feasts every Friday after the flag game, so Leehan should probably stop feeling like they were doing it for his Claiming.

The campers, along with Chiron and his friends, surrounded the big bonfire that stood in the middle of the huge U-form the cabins were forming. Tables filled with snacks and leftover food from dinner, along with fruit for the insane people, water, punch and a very questionable red liquid greeted Leehan when he finally left his new cabin after finishing unpacking his things. He decided to join Jaehyun on a log.

Some campers were eating, some shared stories with others, shared their own food, couples who shared kisses and soft touches, but nothing too wild. Thank God. Gods. Leehan had something new to get used to now.

„Etimos?“

„Huh?“ Leehan looked at Jaehyun.

„Ready?“ He laughed. „Did you not understand what I asked?“

„No, I—“ Huh, that was weird. „I actually did.“

„That’s another thing you have to get used to. Greek. Understanding, reading. You can even talk in Greek if you want to.“

„But how?“ Leehan asked. „I never learned Greek.“

„Where’s the fun in life if it’s only about understanding why something is happening?“ Jaehyun giggled. „I’ll get us some ambrosia. Don’t let anyone steal my seat. Tonight, we will party. You finally have a daddy!“

Leehan cringed at the word as Jaehyun disappeared out of sight, leaving him on the wooden log. He couldn’t complain. He liked the view.

What he didn’t like was the fact that the beautiful boy from before was seated on the other side of the bonfire. Every now and then the fire would move and flicker, just enough to give Leehan a clear view of the black-haired boy, who was too busy talking to his friends to notice Leehan.

He looked so. Good.

He had put on a black hoodie right on top of his camping shirt, which—huge respect. Leehan wasn’t the biggest fan of orange, especially of this tone.

Leehan tried his best not to stare, but he just couldn’t. It was inevitable. He had never been interested in another person, let alone a boy, which to be honest, didn’t bother him that much. He couldn’t stop staring.

„You good, dude?“

„Yeah.“ 

A quick reaction that only made Jaehyun raise his eyebrows and follow his gaze. „Oh. Lorena?“

„What?“

„That girl you’re looking at. Her name is Lorena.“

„It’s not…“ Leehan sighed and turned to the boy again, who was apparently busy telling a story, as he had all eyes on him. It made Leehan all fuzzy inside. Almost jealous that he wasn’t close enough. Almost. „It’s that boy.“

„Boy?“ Jaehyun repeated enthusiastically. „Who—oh! Taesan?“

There it was. Taesan. Like music in his ears. Finally a name for a face.

„Taesan?“ Leehan repeated, both to make sure he heard correctly and to test the name around his tongue. „I don’t remember seeing him in the Aphrodite cabin when we went in to introduce myself during the tour.“

Jaehyun froze.

Then, he laughed.

A big, childish, high-pitched laugh. Loud enough, Woonhak, one of the actual Hermes children and close friend of Jaehyun, shoved him for it.

„Sorry, sorry! I just…“ Jaehyun wiped a tear from his face. „It’s just…wow. I didn’t expect you to be so…I don’t know. Smooth?“

„What do you mean?“ Leehan asked. „Stop talking in riddles.“

„Hey, if there’s anyone in camp that talks in riddles, it’s him. Taesan.“ Jaehyun took a sip from his drink and handed a second cup to Leehan. „He’s a son of Dionysus, not Aphrodite. Though, let’s be honest, he does have the face for it.“

Leehan didn’t realize he had death-stared Jaehyun for that comment until Jaehyun’s eyes doubled in size. „Whoa, don’t worry, you can have him, dude! All yours! Although…he’s…“

„What?“ Taken?

„Difficult. Confusing.“ Jaehyun shrugged. „Children of Dionysus are a bit odd.“

„How so?“

„Well, everyone knows.“ Jaehyun looked over at the bench that was occupied by Taesan and his friends. „Dionysus children. Voice dripping wine, memory of an elephant, huge storytellers. They talk to you once and make you addicted to their voice. Intoxicating. Possessive over them, like the pirates that stole Dionysus in that one myth. Of course, only if they want to. If they don’t use their Dionysian voices, they’re really cool to hang out with. Very talkative and expressive.“

„Is that so?“

„Yeah, but to be honest I don’t know much about Taesan.“ Jaehyun wondered. „He’s quite secretive. I’m pretty sure he only ever hangs out with his siblings or the maenads who visit the camp once in a while to give their blessings to Dionysus’ kids. That doesn’t stop him from being popular around here. Do you know how many people he has straight-up ghosted? Like, in real life? Like—“

And as Jaehyun went on and on about the Dionysus children, Leehan tried his best to, once again, not stare. Which was so difficult. The tension, the magnetic pull that the other boy woke up inside Leehan’s belly was too strong to ignore.

The fire flicked and Leehan looked up.

Their eyes met.

Taesan was already looking.

A sniff of wine reached Leehan’s nose.

Leehan felt see-through. Taesan’s dark eyes were burning him alive.

It didn’t last long. Maybe one second. Maybe ten.

Taesan raised an eyebrow, just slightly, but Leehan noticed. It was like he was wondering why he looked up at all.

The fire flicked again. The moment ended.

Taesan turned to his friends.

And Leehan released a breath he didn’t realise he was suffocating on.

•

A week passed, and Leehan was getting busier with each day passing by.

He got used to his new cabin quite quickly. “It makes sense that you do,” they told him. “It’s where you’re supposed to be.”

His—well, siblings—were good people. They all understood each other quite well, which made no sense to Leehan at all. They didn’t know each other on a personal level, but they were all so similar. Everyone had their own space and respected it, unlike the Hermes cabin.

Which wasn’t their fault; the Hermes cabin was always full. Overfilled. That made Leehan quite jumpy. Especially that one time when a Hermes boy decided to wear one of Leehan’s jumpers. Leehan didn’t like that.

But the Apollo children were respectful. They kept to themselves, but not in an isolating way. They were open with each other, talking and sharing stories of their lives before the Claiming. But they understood when someone wanted some peace and quiet.

The cabin was also always bright. Even when it was raining outside, inside the cabin looked like the sun was right on top of it. Which was also great for Leehan; he had always been a summer kid.

One of his siblings, Sunoo, decided it was about time Leehan started practising using the bow. He insisted archery was his calling and the reason he was so shit at using a sword. His father was a bowman, so he had to follow in his footsteps somehow. Leehan actually agreed — the bow was way better.

As he kept on practising with Sunoo, he felt pride with every target that he met.

“Great!” Sunoo jumped up and down. “Keep going! Maybe I’ll grab the next target and run around while you throw an arrow.”

“Are you crazy!” Leehan laughed. “What’s next? An apple on your head?”

“Wait, that’s a good idea!”

Leehan rolled his eyes.

Somewhere in between his sets, he heard a grunt. He already knew who it was.

“Good morning, people,” Jaehyun moaned. “What a good day to be alive…”

Leehan smirked at him. “Had a good night?” he asked, balancing the arrow on his bow.

“Sungho wanted to stay up to watch the sunrise…” Jaehyun shrugged. “Can’t say no to that face.”

Leehan smiled. Sungho was a son of Aphrodite, also Jaehyun’s boyfriend. Or whatever they are. Jaehyun refuses to explain.

“How come I didn’t see you?” Leehan asked as Sunoo ran around trying to gather up all the arrows Leehan had used. “I’m always up before anyone else.”

“Why would you torment yourself like that?”

“I like to run,” Leehan replied with a tilt of his head.

“You’re weird,” Jaehyun deadpanned. “We were up on the highest hill. That’s the best place to watch the sunrise and the sunset. Blessed be the Gods.”

“Blessed be Helios,” Sunoo corrected when he reached the boys. He transferred all the arrows into the little bag Leehan had taken with him to the archery place.

Then, laughter was heard.

Some campers were running around the field, crouching down every now and then to pick something up. Flowers.

“What is that?” Leehan asked.

About twenty campers, some in uniform, some in normal clothes, were carrying bouquets of flowers in every color of the rainbow and picking up more. Some were collecting rocks, others branches.

Leehan saw him.

Taesan.

With a goddamn flower crown on his head.

Leehan almost melted into the ground.

He was there, laughing with his siblings, carrying… masks? It seemed like? Wooden animal masks.

“Dionysus children,” Jaehyun noted. “I think they’re preparing for the play.”

“Play?” Leehan asked. “What play?”

“They hold one every few months,” Jaehyun replied, smiling at the campers and waving at them. “To honor their father. He never misses them. I think they did Hamlet last time? I don’t remember, I fell asleep halfway through.”

“And then you woke up in the middle of the lake on a boat because you angered the maenads,” Sunoo reminded him, rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Yeah…” Jaehyun chuckled. “I did, didn’t I?”

Leehan stopped listening again. He turned his attention to Taesan.

Leehan was almost jealous of the flowers on his head. Jealous they got to touch his soft hair, jealous they could just be near him without any explanation. His eyes widened when he caught Taesan’s gaze, whose smile slowly faded.

The son of Apollo tried his best to not do anything remotely embarrassing. No movement, no flinch. Since he caught the boy’s attention, he wasn’t going to waste it.

Leehan smiled. Softly. It was barely there, but he knew Taesan noticed, as his eyes widened in surprise. They weren’t as suspicious as they were a second ago, but they weren’t welcoming either. It was like he was trying to figure out why Leehan was looking in the first place.

Then, Taesan was forced to break eye contact when a sibling of his pulled him by the arm, pointing at one of the masks. Taesan frowned at the broken ear.

“Blinking is a thing, you know.”

Leehan turned to Sunoo. “I blinked.”

“Yeah, no, definitely you did.” The pink-haired boy held back his laugh. “You looked like you were going to give him the world and more if you could.”

I would. “I didn’t.”

“Well, lucky for you, Dionysus children love attention,” Jaehyun shrugged one shoulder. “Even if they pretend they don’t notice.”

Hmph. “So… a play, you said?” Leehan tried to change the subject. “And what are they doing out here?”

“I think they’re just collecting prompts for the stage,” Sunoo replied. “You know, a lot of Apollo children help out with the decorations, since both our fathers are gods of art. You should help too!”

“I could. I’d like to,” Leehan replied, gathering his things to leave. “When?”

“Tomorrow, after dinner,” Sunoo smiled. “It’s really fun! And we get advantages for helping.”

“Like?”

“Outings,” Sunoo replied. “Being the first one to be considered for a mission. Or even a role in the play, if they’re nice enough.”

Leehan smiled. Perfect.

•

Leehan was used to running.

So used, in fact, that he kept waking up before anyone else, when the camp was quiet and peaceful. The weapons that would soon be used for practice lay on the ground, untouched, unmoving. The reusable water bottles stood on the tables, dry and cold, like they didn’t belong to anyone. The trees were quiet, like they weren’t alive and moving beings.

Just a few moments before the sun rose up the sky, greeting the Apollonian boy with a warmth he only ever felt when he put on his running shoes, he stretched his back to the point of a soft cracking sound and started running.

Leehan liked the layout of the camp. The twelve cabins stood in a U-turn, neighboring the cousins with a slight gap in between, faking the illusion of a neighborhood with privacy. He liked the layout, but he refused to run around the cabins. His run started on the last step of the stairs in front of Cabin 7 and continued around it.

The sun rose when he finally reached the lake. He ran down the hill, avoiding the stairs and manmade road, deciding to test his fate down the steep decline.

When he finally reached the water, Leehan stopped running, switching paces and walking instead. He was out of breath, yes, but that wasn’t the reason he stopped. Matter of fact, he could’ve easily continued running. He was far from reaching his maximum. But something about the view he was gifted with had stopped his feet from running.

Besides, there was a voice. Because of course there was.

It wasn’t far from his location. Someone was… talking? Singing? Talking in a singing tone, more likely. Like the boy was trying to keep up a pace, the same way Leehan did with running.

Leehan’s ears perked up.

This was interesting.

All plans of running around the lake and eventually taking a dip for good measure slipped off Leehan’s brain. Just like that. Like his routines never mattered.

Instead, he followed the voice. Considering the fact that the camp was protected by that invisible wall, Leehan was sure that he wouldn’t come across anything he wouldn’t be able to survive.

The voice got louder and louder with each step, but Leehan couldn’t see anything yet.

He passed by the cabin of Poseidon, which was currently unoccupied, unless Percy Jackson was visiting, something Leehan hasn’t seen happen yet. Leehan took a right turn and stepped inside the forest.

A few seconds later he found what he was looking for.

The boy. Taesan.

On the amphitheater of Dionysus that stood in the middle of… you guessed it! Laurel trees. An army of them.

The theatre was huge and out in the open. Leehan had only been there once during his tour along with Chiron. Chiron had explained to him that when Dionysus was excused from his curse of being stuck in the camp, just before he left, he gifted a theatre to his children. A typical amphitheater, big enough to hold theatre nights, accommodating all the campers and visitors, small enough to fit inside the camp.

Dionysus left, of course. He returned to the woods of Greece, most likely somewhere in Thebes or even the islands he grew up in.

Ionian columns were circling around the theater, holding up candles. These were decorated with leaves and branches, splashes of red color right under them.

And that’s exactly where Leehan hid behind.

Taesan stood there, in the middle of the stage, holding a book—most likely a script. He was reading, out loud, reciting a monologue. His voice was deep and loud; this was the first time Leehan had heard it. He doesn’t think he will ever get enough.

Taesan kept glancing down to the script, but both of the boys knew he didn’t have to. With the pace he was going with, he seemed completely ready for theatre night.

It’s never good to eavesdrop, but Taesan’s voice just needed to be heard. By Leehan.

“Dionysus children. Voice dripping wine, memory of an elephant, huge storytellers. They talk to you once and make you addicted to their voice. Intoxicating. Possessive over them, like the pirates that stole Dionysus in that one myth. Of course, only if they want to. If they don’t use their Dionysian voices, they’re really cool to hang out with. Very talkative and expressive.”

Leehan knew Taesan was using his Dionysian voice.

“It is my lady; O, it is my love!

O that she knew she were!

She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?

Her eye discourses; I will answer it.

I am too bold; ’tis not to me she speaks.

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

To twinkle in their spheres till they return.

What if her eyes were there, they in her head?

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars

As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven

Would through the airy region stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night.

See how she leans her cheek upon her hand!

O that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek!”

His mouth dripped honey. Leehan wanted to lick it off his chin.

“Sit with us.”

Another voice. Right next to Leehan. How did he not notice five women sitting in the seats of the last row of the theatre, right next to Leehan’s chosen column? 

They were older than him, tall and beautiful. They were smiling, showing sharper teeth than normal people, but nothing too scary. Each of them was wearing leopard-printed coats and they all had long, dark red nails. Their hands were… well, dirty, for one. But they were also smudged with something. Something red.

Leehan gulped.

And he sat down next to the one closest to him.

Taesan didn’t seem to notice them sitting there. He was in his own little bubble, running around the stage, playing with his hands and whole body.

Leehan smiled softly.

Taesan looked right in his element. It wasn’t something you wanted to take your eyes from.

•

The sun had already started to set when the Apollo children made their way to the arts and crafts side of the camp.

Chiron had allowed them access to everything for the decorations of the play. He had moved all the tables to create a huge circle and placed different crafting materials in the middle: leaves, flowers, branches, knives, hot glue, even fur and oil colors. Chiron made sure the children of Apollo wouldn’t ask for anything after he retreated to his own cabin. Or, well, cave.

Leehan sat in between two siblings of his, Beomgyu and Wonhee. Apparently, they were raised at the camp and barely ever went out to the mortal world.

Beomgyu was a nurse in the infirmary. He had hands that worked wonders, but his artistic eye could use a hand or two.

Wonhee was the complete opposite. She was banned from the infirmary after some really bad, failed attempts at healing. That didn’t bother her, she once explained to Leehan; she hated the sight of blood. She’d much rather spend her time playing music. She even created her own musical instruments in her spare time between practice.

„Can you make me a guitar?“ Leehan once asked.

„Give me one hour and I’ll have ten waiting for you.“ Wonhee smiled.

Leehan underestimated just how comfortable his siblings made him feel. It was just so easy to talk to them, despite being the biggest introvert.

He enjoyed silence. He liked being on his own, which is why he grew accustomed to waking up earlier than anyone else. Otherwise, people like his foster siblings asked to join him on his run. But these siblings made him feel less lonely. Jaehyun too.

„Why are you here again?“ Leehan asked, leaning forward to face the intruder who sat next to Beomgyu.

„I’m bored.“ Jaehyun shrugged. „It’s still too early to get ready for bed.“

„Is it because you have no one to hang out with?“ Beomgyu snickered.

Jaehyun looked up from the mask he was painting. „Hey! I have plenty of people who want to hang out with me!“

„Mhm, yeah.“ Wonhee nodded. „Not Sungho though.“

Leehan’s ears perked up at that comment. „What? I thought everything was okay between you?“

„Because it is!“ Jaehyun exclaimed. „It is! Also, there’s nothing between us. We’re just friends!“

Sungho was a son of Aphrodite Jaehyun was practically in love with. Of course, he’d never admit it, but his heart-shaped puppy-dog eyes begged to differ. Sungho was beautiful, simply said. He had a long, beautiful face, sweet eyes, and a gentle smile. He carried himself with such security and grace, it wasn’t possible to ignore him. Leehan knew Sungho was the first person Jaehyun looked for when he entered a room.

„Apparently, Sungho is mad at Jaehyun.“ Wonhee giggled. „He’s sure Jaehyun only likes him because he’s beautiful. Because he’s a son of Aphrodite and nothing else.“

„Which!“ Jaehyun stopped working completely. „Is not true! At all! And he won’t believe me! Says satyrs only date Aphrodite children because of their beauty. He thinks I’m a liar.“

Leehan didn’t smile like Beomgyu or giggle like Wonhee. He couldn’t. Jaehyun looked too upset over this. „Have you tried telling him the truth? How you feel?“

Wonhee laughed and Beomgyu kicked her feet under the tables, making Leehan flinch too, as he was sitting between them. „Jaehyun, it’s not the end of the world,“ Beomgyu assured. „There’s plenty of fish in the sea, you know.“

„Don’t call him that…“ Jaehyun sulked. „He’s not just some fish. And even if he were, he’d be…he’d be a…uhm…“

„Corydoras.“ Leehan helped.

„Corydoras!“ Jaehyun agreed. Then he turned to Leehan. „Wait, what’s that?“

„Just a really pretty fish. Catfish, freshwater. Mostly found in South America.“

Jaehyun blinked. Wonhee stopped working too.

„Why do you know so much about fishes?“ Beomgyu asked.

„Fish.“ Leehan corrected. „I…I had a phase.“

Silence.

„Anyways,“ Jaehyun continued, grabbing some flowers to arrange them on the mask. „It’s fine. I guess. I’ve never been good with feelings anyway. Maybe it’s for the best.“

„Don’t say that.“

„No, it’s fine, Leehan. Really.“ Jaehyun shrugged.

Before Leehan could answer, a snicker came from the other side of the crafting circle. „I’m telling you, they’re weird. Total snobs.“

„Yeah, I mean, why aren’t they here to help? It’s their play.“

Leehan tried to listen, but the two boys had started to talk quietly and laugh loudly.

„Don’t bother Ryan. He’s just salty,“ Jaehyun explained.

„What is he so mad about?“ Leehan asked no one in particular.

The two boys—one being Ryan, another son of Apollo whom Leehan hadn’t talked a lot with, and Kurtis, another satyr—were decorating two masks with ivy leaves, placing them on top of the cut-out eyes as eyebrows. Both of them were laughing, whispering to each other, and snickering about whatever their topic was.

„They’re mad that the Dionysus children don’t come out here to help. Ryan doesn’t understand that they’re practicing. The one time they actually tried to help, all hell broke loose here.“

„What? Why?“

„Haven’t you heard of the Apollonian and Dionysian principles, little bro?“ Beomgyu asked. „Even here, that exists.“

Leehan stared at him like he grew three heads out of his neck. Kind of like Cerberus. Hey! Leehan is finally inserting mythological quotes and jokes in his own mind! „No. What is that?“

„Well,“ Beomgyu stared at the tree right outside the crafting place. „It’s kind of difficult to explain…it’s about the differences between our cabins. Our fathers and their morals.“

Huh. „I thought they got along. You know, both being gods of some kind of art form.“

Apollo being the god of not only healing, prophecy, and light, but also of music and poetry, and Dionysus being the god and creator of theatre along with his wine, madness, and festivity. They both had the same father, yet different mothers, and despite Dionysus being the only Olympian god with a mortal mother, it would have made more sense to Leehan if these two were closest.

„No, no, no. I mean…yeah, both of them have something to do with the arts.“ Beomgyu nodded. „But it’s more complicated than that.“

„How come?“

„Well, you know, our father is a god of the arts. His principle represents reason, order, and structure. He finds beauty in calmness and logic. Controlling his emotions through art.“

„Contrary to the Dionysian principle that rejects every form of logic,“ Wonhee continued as if on cue. „He represents chaos and ecstasy. Dionysus urges his people to allow emotions to take control, no matter how passionate it will end up being. Which is why Dionysian children have a thing for emotional release. They’re dramatic and powerful…we prefer calm.“

And it was true. Leehan disliked being dramatic and making a fuss out of nothing. He preferred calmly talking about his issues and confronting his obstacles in a peaceful and controlled manner. Never once had he thought of breaking boundaries.

„So, what? We just don’t like each other?“

„Well, no.“ Wonhee smiled. „We just try our best to avoid conflict with Cabin Twelve.“

Leehan nodded.

•

In a world filled with monsters and mythical heroes he hadn’t encountered yet, aside from the Echidna Jaehyun had killed for him once, running was the only way Leehan could actually calm down. Yes, he had his siblings, that helped, but he needed something for himself.

When he reached his usual stopping point, Leehan allowed himself a short rest.

Then, of course, he heard it again.

He’s not going to admit to himself that he was waiting for just that, but the warm feeling in his belly when he heard Taesan’s strong voice was enough of a sign for it.

Naturally, he followed the voice again.

The amphitheater wasn’t empty this time. This time, the magic allowed him to see them from the second he stepped in the sacred place.

All five of them were focused on what was happening in front of them.

Taesan, dressed in his casual clothes, a black band hoodie he had never heard of before and black jeans, in the middle of the stage, holding a book. His black hair was fluffy, going in different directions and a little curl in the split gave them the illusion of spikes.

One of the women smiled fondly when Leehan sat next to them. She had wild brown hair, ivy leaves waving at Leehan, and red-stained lips. She smiled, showing her vampire teeth.

„You’re back, demigod.“

Leehan stopped breathing.

She was talking to him in Greek. And he understood everything. There’s no logical explanation for this and suddenly Jaehyun's words made sense. He had to get used to this.

The women noticed. They whispered to each other, giggling and watching him like hawks.

„Yes.“ He replied. He knew he wasn’t speaking in Greek back, but she seemed to have understood him. Maybe somehow he did. Maybe magically he did.

The woman studied him for a second.

She looked deep into his eyes, and frankly, Leehan felt exposed. Like he was naked or like his soul was being ripped out.

She nodded. „My name is Anthe.“

Now, it was Leehan’s turn to smile. „I’m Leehan.“

Anthe nodded at him. Then she leaned back a little to introduce the other four women. „These are my sisters. This is Kisso.“

„Oh, hello!“ Kisso grinned. She had long blonde hair, thin and straight. Her naturally pink cheeks looked drawn on, and she had freckles everywhere. „You’re back! You must be good friends with our Dongmin.“

„Dongmin?“

„It’s Taesan’s real name.“ Another voice. The third woman. She had more masculine features, looked taller than the others. „Taesan is a stage name.“

„That’s Thaleia.“ Anthe explained.

„Oh,“ Leehan smiled. „We’re not…close. He doesn’t even know my name.“

„He does.“ The fourth woman, who had similar features to Kisso, assured. Her hair was curlier than Kisso’s, but they almost had the same face. „Do you believe you can admire someone anonymously from a distance for this long? He knows your name.“

„That’s Chrisis.“ Anthe poked at Kisso. „Kisso’s twin sister. And that’s Ksantho.“

The last woman smiled shyly.

„Twin sister?“ That’s a weird way to talk about your own sister. „Didn’t you say you’re all sisters?“

Anthe laughed quietly so as not to interrupt Taesan’s performance. „We are chosen sisters. Kisso and Chrisis are born sisters.“

Huh.

„We are maenads, child.“ Anthe explained. „Followers of our lord Dionysus.“

Ah. That explains everything.

Leehan knew about the Maenads. They were female followers of Dionysus who chose to live with him in the mountains. They were said to be manic and dangerous. Many thought they had such strength, they would tear apart animals to wear their skin.

So that also explains the red hands and panther fur on them.

Huh.

But they looked nice. Sure, they had scarily sharp teeth and dirt everywhere, but they still had a way to make everything…fancy. Very chic.

„Sit with us from now on.“ Anthe said.

„We won’t bite.“ Chrisis continued.

„Dongmin must’ve not noticed you yet.“ Anthe said and looked ahead again, Leehan following her gaze. He was still up on the stage, reciting a monologue like he wrote it. Like it came from his soul. „The lord’s children allow their mania to take over when they perform. He’s in his own head right now.“

„I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you once he finishes practice.“ Kisso smiled.

Leehan mirrored her. „I’m just hoping you’re telling the truth.“

„I always am. We always do.“ Kisso assured. „Lying is for idiots. Even in theatre, we never tell a lie.“

Leehan didn’t stick around for the end of the performance.

•

This time during capture the flag, Leehan dared himself to pass by the place he was attacked by the laurel trees that Taesan had controlled, maybe hoping to meet someone there. But the place was empty.

The trees didn’t attack him. He wasn’t hanging upside down.

Leehan was silent, and he was given silence back.

He noticed that the trees were moving in sync, whispering secrets into the wind.

He didn’t notice the leaves had started to move to his head, afraid to touch him.

•

Leehan knew Jaehyun was trying to be discreet about his staring problem, but it wasn’t working. Sitting across some Aphrodite children in the feast after the game didn’t help his case either.

Jaehyun was naturally a very fidgety person, but this was a whole other level. He was tapping a finger on his knee, while the very same leg was doing the same to the floor.

„Can you stop?“ Wonhee asked, her hands carrying a big bowl of chips. Apple vinegar chips. „If you’re this nervous, go talk to him about it.“

„Who, my dearest Wonhee?“ Jaehyun smiled innocently, but his eyes flicked back to Sungho. Leehan noticed the way Sungho acted like he wasn’t aware of Jaehyun’s state. Which didn’t make sense. If he wanted to leave, to be out of sight, he could’ve easily done so. He could’ve left. Yet, he decided to stay and stay in Jaehyun’s vision.

„Jaehyun.“ Leehan poked him. „Can we get some drinks?“

Jaehyun looked up. He smiled. „Sure.“

The bonfire was once again surrounded by the campers. While the boys were walking towards the snack table, one son of Ares pushed another one towards the fire, catching him just one second before he turned to dust. God. Leehan hates boys.

„So,“ Jaehyun started talking once they reached the ambrosia. „You also think I should just talk to Sungho, am I right?“

Leehan blinked. It sounded more like a statement than a question. „Yes.“

„What am I supposed to tell him, Hanie?“ Jaehyun poured himself a cup of ambrosia. „He won’t believe me, and he’ll probably use his gift to…I don’t know. To manipulate me into saying something stupid.“

„Has he ever done that?“

„What?“

„Used his gift against you?“

Jaehyun poured Leehan a cup. „No. Never.“

„Then what are you scared of?“ Leehan was confused.

„He…“ Jaehyun sighed. „He told me that if you truly like someone, you don’t use your gift against them.“

Aw. That warmed Leehan’s heart up. „That’s very sweet.“

„Yeah, but…“ Jaehyun said to his cup. „But how is it okay for him to trust his feelings but it’s not okay when I do it? Why does he think that just because satyrs generally tend to date Aphrodite children, I only want to be with him because of that?“

„Okay, I get your point. It is really unfair.“ Leehan nodded. „But you can’t sit and do nothing. That only makes him feel like you’re proving his point.“

„But…but what if it’s true.“ Jaehyun looked at Leehan. He had never seen the boy look so serious before. So sad. „What if I do only want to be with him because I feel like I have to?“

Leehan tilted his head a little. „Jaehyun. How long have we known each other?“

„Uhm. I don’t know. A couple of years.“

„Since grade 6, Jaehyun. I’ve known you for six years.“ Leehan stated.

„Your point?“

„My point is, I know you. I know you better than I know anyone else here. Trust me when I tell you, there’s no way in hell you’re forcing yourself to like someone just because you think it was meant to be.“

„How can you be so sure?“

„You’re a shit actor.“

Jaehyun laughed at that. Really loud. Leehan’s smile spread wide across his face. Making his best friend laugh is his favourite accomplishment. „Sorry I can’t be as good as your secret boyfriend.“

Leehan rolled his eyes. „I’m serious. You’re just having these thoughts because you respect Sungho so much, you want him to be right. But don’t let him think even for a second that he’s right about this.“

Jaehyun ducked his head and nodded slowly.

Leehan pulled him in for a short hug, patting his back and letting him go. „Go talk to him.“

„I will.“ Jaehyun promised. He took his drink and left Leehan behind, marching up to Sungho like a strong soldier. Leehan was so happy for him.

Then he heard it.

„You’re embarrassing yourself.“

Taesan.

„Don’t act like you’re better than me.“ Ryan replied, loudly.

„For the first time in my life, I’m not acting when it comes to you, Ryan!“

Leehan heard a gasp.

Ryan and Taesan were surrounded by campers next to the bonfire. Ryan was accompanied by a son of Ares, who was actively trying to hype him up for a fight, it seemed like.

Leehan’s shoulders grew tense.

„We talked about this already, Ryan.“ Taesan replied, loud and clear. This was the first time Leehan had ever heard his voice grow fierce like that. The first time Leehan heard Taesan using his normal voice, and not his Dionysian one like he did when he was practising. „You didn’t like my answer, so why are you bothering me?“

„Stop walking away when I’m talking to you!“

Taesan looked relaxed.

Ryan was barking at him like a dog, but Taesan remained calm and focused. Leehan almost moved on autopilot when Ryan got too close to Taesan’s face. He seemed aggressive, mad. Something Apollo children aren’t used to feeling. He was all up in Taesan’s face, using his hands as gestures, a bit too close to the other boy for Leehan’s liking.

Even Taesan’s siblings were looking bored. They were close to Taesan physically but their hands remained in the pockets of their hoodies.

Beomgyu ran up, catching Ryan’s hands and trying to pull him back from Taesan’s personal space. Taesan looked to the side.

Leehan caught his eye.

It seemed like the eye contact had the exact same effect on Taesan as it did with Leehan. It seemed like time had stopped for the both of them.

Taesan’s lip curled up. Slightly, but Leehan noticed.

He smiled at Leehan.

A smile.

Leehan could die from joy right then and there.

Instead, when Chiron came to Taesan’s rescue, Leehan turned around and grabbed a few bottles of wine that had been emptied and turned into ambrosia. Five in total. Then, he left.

•

The cold bottles of ambrosia Leehan was hanging on to were small but heavy. Chiron wanted to give the campers the illusion of a high-school prom at every afterparty, so this was his own idea of what teenagers do when they’re not forced to play nice.

This morning, Leehan decided not to run to the amphitheater. This time he took his time to walk to it. He passed by the Poseidon cabin, wondered what Percy Jackson was up to, and kept walking until he reached the lake. Then he took a deep breath to suck in all the fresh air before around two hundred campers ruined it with their sweatiness and blood, turned left, and walked to the theatre.

He couldn’t hear Taesan’s voice yet.

Neither the sound of whispering from the maenads.

The theatre was empty.

Leehan sulked.

Was he too late? Was he too early? It was only 5 a.m.

Was Taesan too tired after yesterday’s feast to practice?

“You know,” a voice said behind him. “Maenads aren’t usually this nice to strangers.”

Leehan’s back shivered.

“They can be very dangerous. They were almost completely banned from entering the camp. They’re only allowed to visit because they lose their murderous powers upon passing the gate.”

Leehan turned around.

Taesan.

Taesan was in front of him.

Beautiful, talented Taesan. Leaning on one of the columns, his arms crossed in front of his body. Clean skin, kissed by the sun.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

“Says you,” Taesan replied. “Donghyun. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your visits.”

Leehan shrugged. He seemed way too calm for someone who has been dreaming of the boy in front of him for a few weeks now. “Caught me there.”

Taesan tilted his head to the right. He furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s that you’re holding?”

Leehan looked at the bottles. “A gift. A thank-you gift.”

“Who are you thanking?”

“The maenads.”

Taesan’s eyes doubled in size. He looked surprised that someone considered the maenads.

“For allowing me to sit with them.”

As if on cue, the seats next to Leehan filled magically. First, Anthe appeared, holding a flower. Then Kissos, holding Thaleia by the arm. Chrisis and Ksantho appeared last, looking for Taesan on the stage.

When they saw that Taesan wasn’t onstage, they looked around, confused. Waves and good mornings greeted Leehan and Taesan when they finally noticed that the boys were standing by the columns. Anthe motioned to the seat next to her, urging Leehan to sit by her. That seemed to surprise Taesan even more.

Taesan turned to Leehan.

He took a few steps forward, eyeing him up and down.

Naturally, the smell of wine filled Leehan’s nose, but it wasn’t as intoxicating as it was the first few times. It was softer. Gentle.

Taesan allowed himself a short distance from the boy, arms still crossed in front of him. He leaned in, just one breath away from Leehan. His throat visibly tightened. Just for a second, he hesitated. But then, he took one long breath and smiled. Like he changed faces, just for a second.

“Stay,” he said. “Watch me practice. But don’t ever turn your attention away from me.”

One second later, he was gone.

This time, Taesan practiced without the book.

He used his whole body to perform, throwing himself left and right, clenching his fists, grabbing himself by the neck.

It felt wrong to look away. It felt wrong to even blink.

It felt real. Leehan didn’t even want to look for the words to best describe what he was witnessing. He isn’t sure a word like that exists.

Leehan’s body felt at ease. His mind felt clear as day. Which could only mean one thing.

Taesan wasn’t using his Dionysian voice. He was using his own, his own crystal-clear talent. He was proving to Leehan that he wasn’t good because he’s a child of Dionysus. He was proving that he was good because he practiced. Because he allowed his emotions to take over.

Leehan didn’t need to be proven a thing by him. But knowing this made him fall for the boy even more.

•

Leehan didn’t wait for Taesan to get off the stage when he finished practicing a scene. The maenads stood up, clapping and clapping, whispering about the performance, hyping Taesan’s way of handling different characters up. Anthe had turned around to talk to Leehan, but he had disappeared.

Leehan knew Taesan probably didn’t even want him to be there, and he was scared he was overstaying his welcome.

Yet, he was halfway into the forest when he heard his voice.

„Hey!“

Leehan paused. There’s no way Taesan was willingly speaking to him, let alone stopping him from leaving. Leehan probably forgot something at the theatre, which didn’t make sense because the maenads were keen on keeping the bottles he had given them, and he didn’t take anything else with him.

Worst-case scenario — and in Leehan’s head the only scenario — Taesan wanted to confront him. About what, though…to stop visiting him at practice? That wouldn’t be an issue; the play was the next night. To tell him to stop watching him like a creep? God, Leehan would throw himself into Tartarus if that were the case.

„You know,“ Taesan started when he finally reached Leehan, who was walking slower, kicking branches and stones like he was bored. He couldn’t fake it. He was stiff as a board. „Anthe will have your head for disappearing just now.“

Leehan raised an eyebrow. „Will you be the one who’ll get the job done?“

Taesan dismissed the question.

Leehan stopped walking when Taesan did. A silence thicker than the blush rushing to Leehan’s cheeks lay between them as they stood across from each other. They welcomed it. Until they didn’t.

„I won’t ask you what you thought about my performance.“

„You don’t need to.“ Leehan replied, as quietly as Taesan had spoken. „I think you already know how it was.“

Taesan nodded. „I do.“

„Still, you were…“ Leehan cleared his throat. „It was beautiful.“

Silence.

Leehan was sure he saw a faint pink color appear on Taesan’s face, but maybe it was just him hoping he had some kind of effect on the other boy. Yet, Leehan couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t bring himself to look away from Taesan’s eyes.

„Not what I expected from a son of Apollo.“

„Why is that?“

Taesan shrugged. „I’ve seen you. Around. Looking. Lurking.“

Leehan cringed internally. „I’m sorry.“

Taesan didn’t move an inch. „Sometimes I think you’re trying to earn something. A role, maybe? Validation from someone in your cabin?“ He probably meant Ryan. „I know you’re watching us.“

Leehan shook his head.

Taesan suddenly seemed way closer than where he was a second ago. Probably because he moved, Leehan. Leehan didn’t notice anything besides the boy in front of him. The world around them didn’t exist. They were in their own bubble. A bubble Leehan wanted sealed.

„It’s only you I’m looking at.“

If Taesan was shocked by that, he didn’t show it. Leehan then remembered he was talking to an actor.

„Why?“

Leehan’s bravery — or desperation — took over. „Interest.“

„Interest.“ Taesan repeated.

„Interest.“

Taesan almost looked impressed. „You’re bold.“

You’re beautiful. „Just telling the truth.“

Taesan looked at the ground. He pushed a little branch away with his tippie toes and Leehan noticed writing and little cartoon sketches on his shoes. 

„5am sharp tomorrow.“ He said. Then, he passed by Leehan, leaving an excactic scent of grapes behind him. 

Leehan smiled at the broken tree branch on the ground. 

•

The next morning, Leehan had woken up at 3am, too stressed to miss his 4am alarm.

Despite it still being dark outside, Leehan still decided to go running.

It was freeing.

Just as freeing as getting some sort of validation from Taesan.

Leehan smiled to himself. He thought of the boy in black, the boy loud around his loved ones, quiet around strangers. Someone who could give drama to quiet whispers. The boy who, instead of sleeping, was up waiting for Leehan in front of the theatre at 5am. Sharp.

„Just on time, Donghyun,“ he greeted. Once again, Taesan was leaning on his back on one of the columns, crossed arms and hoodie pulled up, hiding his forehead.

„I wouldn’t want to disappoint my favourite actor.“ Leehan joked. He decided to ignore the part of his brain that noted that it was, in fact, not a joke. „You can call me Leehan.“

„Hmm,“ Taesan pushed himself up, entering Leehan’s personal space like a magnet. „Donghyun sounds more…poetic to me.“

Leehan laughed quietly. „Dionysus child indeed.“

Taesan shrugged.

„Where are the maenads? How come they’re not here early?“ Leehan asked, looking around. Too scared, too intimidated to look Taesan in the eyes, and Taesan seemed to know all about it.

„They won’t be here today,“ Taesan replied.

„Oh?“ Leehan raised an eyebrow and grinned.

„You’re a funny one,“ Taesan said. „They’re coming back for the performance, just want to make an entrance with my father. Not any other reason.“

„And here I thought you returned my feeling of interest.“

And it was out there, in one way or another. The confirmation that it wasn’t just any kind of interest. It was way more than that.

Taesan didn’t seem to mind that much. „Maybe I just prefer a smaller audience.“

Dionysus children and their obsession with metaphors.

„Well, will you get to your practice?“ Leehan asked.

„I never practice the same day as the play,“ Taesan replied. „It’s bad luck. Kako mati, as we say.“

Woah. Okay, Greek sounded ten times better when it was Taesan speaking it. „Then, why are we…“

„I’m in the mood for a showaround.“ Taesan shrugged. „You’re new. You haven’t been inside the theatre yet.“

„I…I have. I am.“

Taesan looked at him like he was wearing a clown costume in summer. „This isn’t the theatre. This isn’t where the magic happens.“

Then, he motioned over to the stage and walked over. Leehan, naturally, followed suit. Even in the depths of Tartarus he’d follow blindly if it meant that Taesan’s voice would be guiding him through it.

When they reached the stairs, Taesan skipped over two of them, dramatically landing on the stage. Then, he turned around with a little swirl and his hoodie dripped on his back. „Come up. I won’t bite.“

Leehan smiled. But with each step he took, his smile seemed to drop. „I have a question.“

Taesan hummed and looked up at the sky, closing his eyes.

„Why are you showing me around?“ Leehan asked. He was waiting for some kind of reaction from Taesan. „I mean, you could’ve just slept longer today.“

Taesan dropped his head, only enough to look ahead, to the area Leehan and the maenads occupied. Then, slowly, he tilted his head to the right, looking right into Leehan’s eyes. Leehan almost regretted his question.

„You know, Apollo children usually have an issue with me.“

Leehan nodded. He knew that already. He knew all about the principles.

„Do you know why Ryan doesn’t like me that much?“ Taesan asked. „Have they told you yet?“

Leehan shook his head.

„I used to have a crush on him,“ Taesan said, like he didn’t just ruin every inch of Leehan’s mind with one simple statement.

Ryan? His brother Ryan? That Ryan?

„I know. Insane.“ Taesan laughed. „I was young. It must have been five years ago by now. He was just this…older, stronger guy, who stole everyone’s hearts, especially Aphrodite children’s. He was beautiful, independent and smart. How could anyone hate him? Or rather, make him hate them?“

Leehan nodded and tried to ignore the knot in his stomach after hearing these compliments about his cabin mate.

„Well, one summer, we decided to perform Romeo and Juliet, the same play we’re doing right now. He didn’t like the way I looked at him when I delivered my lines.“ Taesan shrugged. „Said I embarrassed him.“

Leehan gulped. „I’m sorry, Taesan.“

Taesan shook his head. „Call me Dongmin.“

Leehan smiled. „I never liked him anyway, Dongmin.“

Taesan’s goosebumps were visible. „He kind of does suck, doesn’t he?“

Leehan laughed.

„Apollo children seem to think with their heads, not with their hearts.“ Taesan shrugged. Then, slowly, he sank down on his knees, putting all his weight on his butt and eventually sat down. Leehan followed his movement, getting comfortable in the middle of the stage. „It’s pretty odd, given that their father, well, your father, has the most beautiful love stories.“

Leehan agreed. „That still doesn’t explain why—“

„I’m pretty good at pretending the audience isn’t there, staring at me, waiting for my next line. It’s a gift we have. Believe it or not, it can be quite stressful knowing how much attention is on you.“ Taesan sighed. „But when it was you… You watch differently. You watch like you’re in the room with the characters, waiting to hear what’s going to happen next, as if you didn’t watch the same practice every morning.“

Leehan blushed. He tried to hide his eyes behind his bangs, but decided against it. „You weren’t supposed to know.“

„Don’t get all shy on me, Donghyun.“ Taesan grinned. „I know you wanted to see how it looks backstage, you can’t fool me.“

Leehan grinned back.

The tour was long. Taesan desperately wanted to talk about each object and each mask, each creation that held the play alive, and he didn’t skip anything. It seemed like he had been waiting to do the tour with someone who had never been backstage for a long time. Like every time he was there, he was doing mental notes, making sure he never forgot anything.

Every object had a story.

Each mask was crafted by hand, and Leehan could tell that the Dionysus children cared just as much about the masks as the Apollo kids. Each mask was different. Each had its own flower, its own design, its own color. Every piece of clothing was hand sewn, and it made a big impression on Leehan that nothing was really perfect.

Some masks had one paintbrush stroke more than needed, one gemstone less, dried glue in a visible place. But that’s what made it special. Cabin 12 wasn’t using their gifts to make everything perfect. They used their experiences, chaos and vision to accomplish everything they put their minds to.

„You know how theatre was created?“ Taesan asked Leehan when they were walking back to camp. „My father was a huge deal in Ancient Greece. He was widely celebrated, and naturally, at his celebrations, people used to drink. A lot. So much that they would speak of worlds that didn’t exist, people that didn’t exist. They changed their voices to appear more feminine or more masculine. And after the first time it happened, it just kept going.“

Leehan laughed. Loud, the same way Jaehyun usually did. „There’s no way.“

„Yeah…“ Taesan smiled at the thought of making someone that wasn’t his sibling laugh this hard.

„A lot of wine can make you act up.“

„It’s not the only purpose wine served in Ancient Greece, you know.“

Leehan forced himself to stop giggling like a little child. „What else did they do with it?“ he asked.

They slowly reached the camp and some campers were already up, getting ready for their lessons and practice, while some were already getting their breakfast and sitting at their tables. Leehan noticed Taesan’s siblings picking at their food, looking left and right.

„Not telling.“ Taesan whispered in his ear, mouth just one breath away from him, and Leehan actually felt the little hairs on the back of his neck rise up. He smelled Taesan’s perfume, his bodily scent, and almost melted on the spot. „Don’t turn your attention away from me tonight. Okay?“

Leehan knew Taesan had left already, but he couldn’t help nodding anyway.

Taesan’s siblings perked up at the sight of their brother, and some even glanced at Leehan, turning red and whispering to each other like maniacs.

Leehan was still standing in the middle of camp, looking into the void when he heard Jaehyun’s voice right next to him. „Did I just see you with Taesan?“

Leehan nodded. „If this is a dream, don’t pinch me.“

•

As promised, Dionysus made a huge entrance with his female followers right behind him. Leehan was sitting at his usual seat, Jaehyun close next to him when a huge cut was created out of thin air, a light shining right out of it. It was a portal, Leehan realized.

Dionysus came out inside his theatre, a bored look, but his suit and godly objects gave away the interest he had about seeing his children’s play. Leehan wasn’t sure how he should feel about being in the same place as a literal god, but all feelings drowned when the maenads came out, dancing around, hair filled with ivy leaves, holding animals and dazed smiles on their faces.

When Leehan caught Anthe‘s eyes, he waved. Her smile curled up even more and before she knew it, she was grinning, showing her big teeth. She waved back and Jaehyun poked Leehan in his ribs.

„There’s no way a maenad is stealing my best friend away from me… Taesan I can fight, but a maenad? Are you insane, Leehan?“

Leehan turned his attention to the stage again. „I might be.“

The scenes in which Taesan wasn’t playing, Leehan had spent trying to look into the backstage area through the curtains. Which, of course, wasn’t possible.

His boredom didn’t last long. Suddenly, all the campers got quiet and actually started watching the play.

Taesan entered the stage, and all hell broke loose in Leehan’s mind. There’s no way someone is this beautiful and talented. There’s just no way. God—well, the Gods—had forgotten to give him an imperfection like they did with other people.

Taesan was wearing a mask around his neck. Leehan remembered him telling the story of that.

“You know, in Greece, women were so hated. They were so looked down upon.”

“That’s not any different from how it is now.”

“Yeah, of course, but back then women weren’t even allowed to take part in plays! Isn’t that insane?” Taesan exclaimed loudly and dramatically, using his whole body to emphasize it. “Only men were allowed to be actors, and even for female characters, it was men who played them. They wore masks, pinched their voices higher, and called themselves women.”

Leehan didn’t know that. He was appalled, but also too focused on Taesan’s eyes to respond. Taesan had a way with words, a way of telling stories. Even without using his Dionysian voice, Leehan couldn’t stop listening to him.

Then, Taesan grabbed one of the masks, turning it around and showing Leehan the strings that held it up. “So just to piss my dad off, we create masks and wear them around our necks. That way, the perfect play he expects won’t be that perfect after all. It’s also why we paint them ourselves and place gemstones on them—so that they shine and steal some attention.”

Leehan had laughed.

Taesan was too perfect.

Taesan immediately looked for Leehan when he came on stage. No one else noticed him looking—that’s how effortless he acted—but Leehan saw his lip curl up for just one second before he continued on to playing Romeo.

It was evidently the best Romeo Leehan had ever seen, and he knew his judgment was right despite never having seen any Shakespeare play. With this acting, he was sure of it.

Taesan ran around the stage in his costume and mask, yelling, whispering, and delivering his lines like they were the air he breathed. Leehan looked around, and everyone was just as enchanted as he was.

Then, as Taesan stopped in the middle of the stage—at the exact spot they had sat together a few hours prior—he glanced up at the audience, delivering one single line with so much charisma and just so much… eye contact.

Taesan was looking right into Leehan’s eyes when he spoke:

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.”

Leehan could only stare. That’s all his body was capable of doing at that point.

Taesan wasn’t performing. He was stating a fact.

Leehan forgot how to breathe. For just one second, he imagined the two of them in a bubble again. Everyone around him had disappeared. The world was theirs, and theirs only. Taesan had stopped performing for the audience. He was performing for Leehan alone.

He barely even felt the ground beneath him, let alone noticed Jaehyun looking him up and down, shocked by the interaction.

“Hey, guys,” Jaehyun whispered to Beomgyu and Wonhee. “We’re losing him.”

“We’ve been losing him since the first day he laid his eyes on Taesan,” Beomgyu rolled his eyes. “Now shut up and watch the play.”

•

Leehan was shaking by the end of the show.

The afterparty was held at the bonfire, which lit up purple when Dionysus walked in.

The camp wasn’t only filled with people now—animals had entered through the gate as well. A few panthers decided to eat the meat, chill in trees, and play with the youngest children; monkeys annoyed everyone; deer sat beside the maenads; and even some bigger birds were flying around overhead.

Leehan was walking beside his friends.

“So,” Jaehyun started when they reached the snack table, “what’s with all the eye-fucking?”

Leehan froze. “Jaehyun? What the hell?”

“Sorry!” Jaehyun raised his hands in defense. “I’m sorry!”

“Jesus Christ.” Leehan scoffed. “If you have something to ask, at least do it— I don’t know—like a normal person?”

“Well, to be fair, I’m not entirely human.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, but really,” Beomgyu chimed in. “It was pretty obvious to everyone. And Taesan has always been kind of… big. Dramatic. He loves being loud about his feelings, whether it’s hate or… you know, other things.”

Leehan rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing going on.” His tongue burned with venom from the huge lie. Even though, technically, there really was nothing going on, Leehan could only wish. “Even if there was—”

“Oh my Gods!” Jaehyun whisper-yelled as Wonhee froze, half a grape still in her mouth. “I was actually joking! So there is something?”

“I don’t—I—I will neither confirm nor deny,” Leehan said, shifting from one leg to the other. “Besides, he’s not even—he might not even—”

“Don’t even think that,” Beomgyu stopped him. “Trust me, if there’s one thing I know about Taesan, it’s the fact that he knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to show it. If you think there is something, there definitely is something. And we all saw it too.”

“Uh, guys?” Wonhee said.

“But he’s a performer, isn’t he?” Leehan insisted. “Maybe it’s just an act—”

“Nu-uh, Hanie,” Jaehyun interrupted. “You’re doing the same thing Sungho did to me—going on, claiming you know his feelings better than him.”

“Guys.”

“Speaking of which!” Leehan tilted his head like a puppy. “How’s that going?”

“Great, actually!” Jaehyun smiled for a second before returning to a frown, Beomgyu giggling beside him. “Don’t change the subject, Kim.”

“Ryan is approaching Taesan as we speak,” Wonhee pointed out, nodding toward the Apollo boy walking with Max, a son of Ares, toward Taesan.

Leehan had noticed the way Taesan’s siblings had basically blocked him from interacting with other people, which was also the reason Leehan had decided to keep his distance. Taesan deserved praise, but he knew it could wait.

Taesan’s siblings, who had spent the evening talking among themselves and accepting praise from other campers, now fell silent, looking up at Ryan as he broke their bubble.

“You think you’re so funny, Taesan,” Ryan spoke. “You’re trying to make me mad, or what is it?”

“Good evening to you too, Ryan.” Taesan smiled—but not the genuine smile he gifted Leehan. This one was filled with venom and sarcasm. “Why, I do think I’m quite the funny guy! Want me to prove it to you? I can be really hilarious.”

The fire flickered, and a shadow grew over Taesan’s face, covering most of it. Leehan and his friends moved closer to the scene, and despite the situation, Jaehyun seemed more on edge than Leehan was.

Leehan knew Taesan had everything under control. He knew he could fight if he wanted to—he knew he could win. Sure, he had never actually seen Taesan fight, but with the way everyone stayed away from the Dionysian children during games, he must be very good. Besides, if he really wanted help, he’d get it. His father was also there, watching—seemingly tired and bored—but the fire in his eyes gave away his disapproval of the situation.

“You just love leading people on, don’t you?”

Taesan grinned like a cat. “How did you know? No—wait—what gave it away?”

“The total absence of guilt,” Ryan said. “You just love acting all dramatic and sentimental, love making everything about yourself. First, you don’t use the masks and props my cabin spent so much time working on, and now you flirt shamelessly with a newcomer in front of the whole camp. Is embarrassment even a word in your vocabulary?”

“To be embarrassed is to be controlled,” Taesan shrugged, and even Dionysus smiled at that. “I explicitly told you I didn’t want any new masks or props. I told you if you made them, I wouldn’t use them. Theatre isn’t about the objects on the stage—it’s about the story. Anyone can play a part in a play, but it takes a real actor to touch the audience.”

Leehan remembered Taesan telling him the same thing.

“That’s all just an act,” Ryan said, disgusted. Taesan took another sip of his drink.

“Exactly.”

“You hate ruining your play with props, but what about when you ruin it by bringing your own personal feelings into your acting? What—found a new boy toy to embarrass?”

“Okay, you can leave now.”

“Repeating the same old tricks in case this one is different?”

“I’m not repeating, because it is different,” Taesan replied. “Now go. I’m asking you really nicely, Ryan.”

Leehan wanted to help. He really did. But he knew Taesan hated feeling like he was depending on someone. He really was his father’s child.

“Already obsessing over him?” Ryan asked, stepping into Taesan’s space. “Will you be able to take another rejection?”

“Careful now,” Taesan said, standing up and mirroring Ryan’s stance. Their faces were just one breath apart, and since Ryan was taller, Taesan had to look up at him. Yet, he looked more powerful than the Apollo boy. He looked like he was controlling the situation, like everything was going exactly how he wanted it to go. “You’re probably not feeling very well, are you?”

Suddenly, Lorena stood up, grabbing Taesan by the elbow, but he stayed put. She looked scared, like she was expecting something to happen—like she thought Ryan was about to hit Taesan.

Leehan tensed. He let his cup fall onto the table, making a mess.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say… you’ve gone… mad, Ryan.”

Then, something happened.

The flames turned even darker than before, letting the purple color take over for just one second.

Taesan’s grin grew wider and wider, just like Ryan’s eyes did.

Ryan suddenly started screaming—yelling nonsense, mostly in Greek and some in English too. He ran around the bonfire, grabbing cups and food, throwing everything into the fire. His eyes had turned white.

When he picked up a sword, that’s when everyone rushed toward him—cautious, but desperate to stop him.

Ryan waved the sword around, not really trying to hurt anyone, but still swinging it wildly, like a lasso.

He kept yelling, but about really strange things—asking where his dog was hiding, why his flower didn’t love him back. He screamed that his aunt was following him, that he saw goats in his sleep.

That’s when Chiron arrived.

He ran toward Ryan but stopped just before reaching him. It didn’t make any sense to Leehan. Chiron was strong enough to stop him.

“He’s not allowed to touch him yet,” Jaehyun whispered to the blonde boy. “Mania is like when mortals have an epileptic episode. You’re not allowed to touch them.”

Leehan nodded.

Chiron turned and hurried over to the Dionysus children. He spoke to them for a few seconds, serious, clearly trying to get Taesan to listen. Taesan stood there, staring straight at Leehan.

Leehan stopped breathing again.

Lorena pushed Taesan back with her palm and nodded toward Ryan—and suddenly, everything stopped.

The fire shrank.

The crowd fell silent.

Ryan collapsed.

For a few seconds, nothing happened.

Everyone stayed frozen, like they were waiting for something.

Max ran to Ryan, who was just starting to push himself up, holding his head with one hand. He was panting loudly, looking around in fear, as Max tried to calm him down.

Then Leehan heard a sound.

Everyone turned to Taesan, whose nail had hit the glass cup he picked up. His movements were slower now, but still steady and deliberate.

He looked at Leehan and began walking toward him.

He dragged his feet just a little, and Leehan almost smiled. Despite everything—despite the situation—Taesan still performed his movements dramatically. He couldn’t help himself.

Then he stopped just a few feet in front of him.

Leehan’s cheeks burned red, his mouth falling open.

Taesan moved.

He threw the last few drops of his ambrosia onto Leehan’s shirt.

Leehan blinked. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his eyelids.

What just happened?

What was this?

Did he just—did he just throw a drink on him?

Chiron moved first.

He walked over to Taesan, grabbing him by the shoulder and forcing them to break the eye contact that had Leehan frozen like a deer in headlights.

Then, with Taesan walking beside him, Chiron went to Ryan, bending down to grab him by the waist and lifting him up like a puppy.

And then they were gone—leaving the bonfire, heading toward Chiron’s office. Most likely. Hopefully.

Dionysus stood up lazily and walked over to Leehan.

Smacking his lips and swallowing the last bite of food, he crossed his arms over his chest—the exact same way Taesan did.

Leehan was shaking.

He was standing in front of a god. A literal god. The father of his crush. The god of theatre.

Dionysus tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“Tinos ise?” he asked in Greek.

Leehan blinked. He was asking whose child he was.

“I’m a son of Apollo.”

Dionysus looked him up and down. Twice.

“Alright.”

Then he followed Chiron.

“Dude,” Jaehyun whispered. He was smiling. Actually smiling.

Leehan couldn’t believe it—how he’d managed to turn himself into a complete clown in front of the entire camp. His crush had literally thrown a drink on him. Gods. There was no way this had just happened.

Maybe he still liked Ryan. Maybe he liked older, more aggressive, expressive Apollo children. Maybe he liked people who talked more, who showed their emotions openly.

“I’m going to bed,” Leehan said.

•

Leehan didn’t want to run.

The night before had been such a disaster that he just wanted to sleep.

Besides, he didn’t want to see Taesan. He didn’t want to embarrass himself even more. He didn’t want to pass by the theatre, even though the play had ended the night before.

He slept through his alarms, waking up only twenty minutes before breakfast ended.

“Shit…”

Despite wanting to spend the day mourning his hopes and dreams of a perfect relationship with a perfect boy, he was still hungry.

Maybe he wouldn’t see Taesan at breakfast. Chiron had looked furious last night—Leehan had never seen him that angry before.

Dionysus was gone. That was the first thing Leehan noticed when he entered the dining pavilion. The animals were gone too, along with the heavy scent of wine.

Taesan was there. That was the second thing he noticed.

He sat with his siblings, his back turned to Leehan—thank the Gods. A hoodie was tied around his waist, the camp shirt shining as bright as ever.

He makes that damn color look so good on him. Fuck.

Leehan grabbed a plate and piled fruit onto it—apple slices drizzled with honey and cinnamon, dark chocolate over strawberries, blueberries on top of Greek yogurt, some nuts for healthy fats. He ignored the meat and moved on, committing to a fruity breakfast.

At the Apollo table, Jaehyun waved enthusiastically.

Leehan sat next to Beomgyu, across from Sunoo.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Sunoo grinned. “How was your night? Anything… exciting?”

Leehan froze. “Exciting?”

“Yeah,” Sunoo shrugged. “It’s not every day something like that happens here.”

“This might actually be the first time,” Jaehyun added. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Oh, goodie,” Leehan clapped flatly. “I must be the first.”

Beomgyu stopped poking at his food. “You’re not— isn’t it a good thing? For you?”

“A good thing?” Leehan echoed. “Being the laughing stock of the camp?”

Sunoo stared. “I’m sorry, are we on the same page?”

“Yeah, what are you talking about?” Jaehyun asked, stealing a grape from Leehan’s plate as Leehan tried to snatch it back. “Did something happen after the party?”

“Were you guys not… there?” Leehan sighed, his head throbbing. “You saw what happened! He could’ve rejected me in private. Why did it have to be in front of everyone?”

“He rejected you?” Jaehyun whisper-yelled. “What? After claiming you?”

“He never claimed me, Jaehyun,” Leehan rolled his eyes. “He literally threw his drink at me. I knew it was too good to be true.”

Jaehyun blinked. Wonhee, who had just joined them, stared like Leehan had grown three heads.

Sunoo groaned. “Oh my Gods, you’re so stupid.”

Leehan paused mid-bite. “What?”

Jaehyun set his tray aside. “Leehan, what did you think happened last night? Be very clear.”

“You’re acting like you weren’t there,” Leehan said tiredly. “Taesan isn’t interested in me, so he threw his drink at me. He rejected me in front of everyone. What else is there?”

Wonhee slapped her hand to her forehead. Beomgyu looked to the sky for patience.

“Leehanie,” Wonhee said gently. “That wasn’t rejection.”

“What?” Leehan frowned. “Yes, it was.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Stop—stop patronizing me!” Leehan dropped his apple slice. “I hate it when you talk in riddles! There’s only one boy I’d ever listen to if he spoke in riddles, and that’s—”

“Good morning.”

Taesan.

Taesan stood right beside them.

He’d spoken to Leehan, but his eyes were on Jaehyun. “Can I steal him for a second?”

Jaehyun raised his hands. “Be my guest.”

Taesan turned to Leehan, and suddenly Leehan felt exhausted. Completely drained.

Taesan nodded toward the exit, silently asking him to follow.

And despite feeling rejected, Leehan would rather die than reject Taesan.

He stood.

They walked away together, drawing the attention of the entire camp. Whispers followed them—especially from the Aphrodite cabin, where girls giggled openly.

Ha. Ha. Very funny.

At the unlit bonfire, Taesan led them to the furthest log.

Leehan was nervous.

Taesan had rejected him. What more was there to say?

“How did you sleep?” Taesan asked, sitting down and straddling the log. Leehan mirrored him.

“Uh—good,” Leehan replied awkwardly. “You?”

“Shit,” Taesan shrugged.

Oh. This was bad.

“Did Chiron punish you for yesterday?”

“A little. I’m banned from the theatre until a month before the next play.”

Leehan’s heart ached. “That really sucks. How are you supposed to practice? Isn’t that torture for theatre kids?”

“I mean…” Taesan leaned back on his palms. “A true actor doesn’t need a stage. A stage needs him.”

Leehan smiled despite himself.

“It’s frowned upon to use mania on someone who isn’t an enemy,” Taesan added.

Leehan shrugged. “It was still cool. He deserved it.”

Taesan smiled softly.

Silence.

Then Taesan leaned forward, sitting cross-legged. “Can you just… not make this awkward? I know you don’t like me back.”

Leehan froze.

“What?”

“I don’t want the Apollo cabin to hate me. We can still be cool, right? I won’t talk to you like that anymore.”

“You think I rejected you?”

Taesan hesitated. “Didn’t you? You didn’t react to my kottabos.”

“What the hell is a kottabos?”

Taesan sighed. “What did you think I did last night?”

“You threw a drink at me.”

“Yes. And what did you think that meant?”

“You rejecting me?” Leehan whispered.

“Oh, Gods.” Taesan shook his head.

Then he laughed—loud, full-bodied, unmistakably Taesan.

“It was a confession!”

Leehan’s smile vanished.

Taesan grabbed Leehan’s hands. “Donghyun. Kottabos is an Ancient Greek drinking game.“

Leehan blinked. Everything was moving.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” Taesan sighed, exasperated. “It’s a game. I throw a drink at someone… at someone…”

Leehan grinned.

“Uh-huh.”

“At who?” Leehan asked, tilting his head.

“At someone I like.” Taesan lifted his chin, clearly accepting the challenge of being bold. “Technically, someone I want to kiss me—but I make my own rules.”

Leehan hummed. “Of course you do.”

Taesan let go of Leehan’s hand, suddenly self-conscious about it getting sweaty.

They sat there for a moment, just looking at each other. Leehan was pretty sure there was music playing somewhere—or maybe it was all in his head. He smiled at the soft, comforting sound.

“So?” Taesan asked after a pause.

“You like an Apollo kid,” Leehan teased.

“I do,” Taesan confirmed. “The question is whether he likes me back.”

“Does he or does he not—that is the question,” Leehan purred into the air, taking both of Taesan’s hands this time and claiming them as his own. “How was my Romeo impression?”

Taesan clicked his tongue, blushing at the contact. “That was Hamlet. Did you even hear me say those lines yesterday?”

“Eh.” Leehan grinned. “Too busy looking at your face. Too busy wishing we were alone.”

“If…” Taesan cleared his throat. “If we had been, what would you have done?”

Warm fondness bloomed in Leehan’s chest, swallowing him whole. This boy was everything. He was everything. There was nowhere else Leehan wanted to be.

“I wish we could replay the game from yesterday. Kovasos.”

“Kottabos,” Taesan corrected, rolling his eyes dramatically at the sudden change of subject. Leehan brushed his thumbs over Taesan’s knuckles.

“Let’s play it again. I’ll do it right this time. I promise.”

“We don’t—” Taesan started. “I don’t have a cup—”

Taesan was rudely interrupted by a press of lips against his own.

Leehan’s lips.

On his.

Taesan’s breath hitched. But when Leehan’s hands slid up his ribs, tracing every line beneath the fabric of his shirt, he leaned in. Deeper. Closer. Until there was barely any space left between them.

Leehan’s fingers, as gentle as ever, stopped just above Taesan’s hips. They squeezed his sides for a brief second before loosening—not completely, just enough.

When Taesan placed his palms on Leehan’s shoulders, he froze.

Leehan pulled back for only a moment, tilting his head slightly before deepening the kiss again. Taesan parted his lips, and when their tongues met, it felt like heaven.

Everything else faded away.

It was easy. Kissing was easy. It was easy when it was Taesan. When it was with Taesan. When it was all about Taesan.

For a second, Leehan was sure they’d reached the peak—that it couldn’t possibly get any better—when Taesan tugged lightly at his hair. Not enough to hurt, just enough to make him feel it, and Leehan’s mind went blissfully blank. He gasped into Taesan’s mouth and felt Taesan smile against him.

Then Taesan giggled, breaking the kiss and pausing the moment.

“I—” Taesan laughed as they pulled apart.

Leehan rolled his eyes, still grinning like an idiot. He had just kissed the boy he was completely gone for.

“I knew you’d like that!”

“How come?” Leehan murmured, his hands still resting on Taesan’s hips. He was glad Taesan hadn’t moved his either—he needed something to ground him.

“You look like it,” Taesan shrugged. “Like someone who’d enjoy having his hair pulled a little. Your curls give it away.”

“These are barely curls,” Leehan protested. “Besides, you look like someone who likes being kissed on the neck.”

Taesan went still.

He flushed—color blooming up his ears, the prettiest shade Leehan had ever seen on him.

“Shut up.”

“Oh?” Leehan brushed Taesan’s hair behind his ear before letting his hand settle back on his hip, burning him alive. “So I’m right?”

“Shut up!”

Leehan leaned in again, just a breath away.

“Make me.”

And he did.

•

Fridays were such a drag for Leehan. He despised Capture the Flag more than the average demigod, who tended to take it far too personally.

Chiron had wanted to make it a little more interesting—to mix up the teams again—but strong demand said no. The teams were perfect as they were. Leehan rolled his eyes. This was his own personal Prometheus curse. Jaehyun was the eagle. Leehan giggled at the thought.

Running around for a bit, putting on a show for his teammates, Leehan acted like he cared about the game. Yet, as soon as he lost sight of the red helmets, he slowed down more and more until he was really just taking a long walk through the forest.

Naturally, he came across laurel trees.

A wide grassy circle lay in the middle, mushrooms hiding among flowers.

The scent of wine.

The scent of grapes.

His scent.

It lingered in the air.

“I told you to stop coming here.”

A gentle voice.

Ivy leaves curled softly around Leehan’s legs, tugging at him without hurting.

“Mhm…” Leehan hummed, allowing laurel branches to wrap around his hip. Suddenly, the vines came alive, pulling him back and back and back until his spine met the trunk of a tree.

The branches caged him, not allowing him to move at all.

But Leehan didn’t want to.

He was exactly where he wanted to be.

“You did,” he agreed.

Taesan stood in front of him, arms crossed, a frown set on his face. “So why do you keep coming back?” he asked, his voice deeper than usual—deeper than Leehan could ever make it.

“Because you kiss me every time you catch me here,” Leehan grinned.

It was the truth. They both knew it.

“Gods…” Taesan released him, the branches retreating to their places, already waiting for the next victim foolish enough to pass by. “I can’t believe I was the one who confessed first.”

Dramatic. Of course.

“Technically, I confessed first,” Leehan said. “I told you about my interest. In you.”

He placed his palms on Taesan’s sides, thumbs brushing warm skin. Taesan didn’t flinch.

“Oh, come on.” Taesan rolled his eyes, uncrossing his arms. “That didn’t count. The Gods themselves heard me claim you.”

Leehan’s grin grew wider and wider and wider.

Taesan flushed as soon as the words sank in. “I mean—I mean not claim! I didn’t mean it like that! I’m not saying you belong to me, but—”

“I do, though.”

Leehan tightened his grip and suddenly turned them, pressing Taesan against the tree instead. “I do belong to you. I’m yours.”

Sunlight spilled across Taesan’s face, turning him into a painting. In some quiet, aching way, Leehan wished they were a painting—so they could stay like this forever, in this exact moment.

Taesan smiled softly, resting his hands on Leehan’s shoulders. One slid up to trace his neck, fingers settling beneath his ear, rubbing gently. The other squeezed his shoulder before nudging Leehan closer, his elbow resting there so his palm could brush through Leehan’s hair, sinking into blond strands like it belonged there.

And it did.

Leehan confirmed it with a low purr.

You sound just like a cat sometimes, Taesan had once said.

“I’m yours too,” Taesan whispered against his lips.

And they kissed.

They kissed and kissed and kissed until they couldn’t breathe anymore—until the laurel trees began whispering and giggling, curling away to grant them privacy.

“You know,” Leehan murmured when they finally paused, not pulling away completely, “you always smell like grapes.”

He nuzzled into Taesan’s neck. Taesan tilted his head, giving him more room.

So Leehan’s instincts about the neck had been right after all.

To his great delight.

“Do I, now?”

“Mhm.” Leehan nodded, the vibration traveling straight through Taesan, sending shivers down his spine. “I wonder if you’d taste like it too…”

Taesan froze when Leehan bit him.

Just a little. Gentle. A soft tug of teeth beneath his ear.

Taesan swallowed a sound that would have ruined him completely. But then Leehan kissed the spot, brushing his teeth over it, and Taesan’s knees nearly gave out.

He tugged Leehan’s hair a bit harder.

He didn’t care. He’d apologize later.

He also didn’t care that people were probably looking for him.

Actually—no. He wouldn’t apologize.

All that mattered was the boy holding him against a tree, stealing his breath with a single touch.

Leehan smiled against the reddening skin, already darkening slightly—almost purple.

Like a grape.

“Well,” Leehan murmured, pleased, “who would’ve thought? You do.”

Leehan still needed time to adjust to camp.

But he’d finally found where he belonged.