Chapter Text
House calls had never been Kei’s speciality, but when the god of bedhead was involved, he had no say in the matter. Had he been alone, the ordeal would not have been quite so unpleasant; finely aged wine, silk pillows, a view of the sunset that most people would kill for, the only thing lacking was the company. Though lacking may be the wrong word. For Kei, there was an overabundance of company.
“–And you know, he’s stronger than he looks ‘cuz he can actually pick me up like whoosh , and it was super romantic until his chiton got caught on the latch,” Hinata, god of diminutive stature, boundless energy, and balls of gas chirped happily. “It took him five whole ticks to get free, and I told him that I could, you know, zap him loose, but he got the shitty stubborn look on his face and told me to shut up–”
The sad thing about Greek temples was that they were designed to echo. No matter how hard he tried to tune out Hinata’s inane ramblings, the story found a way to bounce back and slam into Kei’s growing headache.
“–So by the time he actually got us to the bedroom, most of his clothes were torn off already, and I’m mean like wham –”
“Woah there,” a svelte voice cut in, “no profanity in front of the k-i-d.”
Kei turned to face the heckler, sneer already in place, “G-e-t b-e-n-t.” If one person could be blamed for Kei’s current suffering, it would certainly be this asshole, Kuroo, god of terrible hairstyles, provocation, and something he referred to as animal husbandry . Kei tried not to think of what that could mean.
“But that wasn’t profanity, Kuroo,” Hinata insisted. His deceptively innocent eyes turned up to look at Kuroo. The people Hinata looked down on were few and far between, and even leaning on the doorframe, Kuroo failed to be one of them. “Was it?”
Mortals had a way of depicting gods: typically in the nude, holding a pose of victory, power, or status, and often wearing some sort of distinguishing symbol to tell them apart. The latter was important, because according to mortals, all gods had strong jaws, awe-inspiring muscles, and a reasonable hairline. Kuroo did not.
Someone broke the mould on Kuroo, Kei was sure. He resembled a delinquent more than he did a divine being, with his sly, narrow eyes and unruly nest of hair. While Kuroo claimed that this impression was an unfair interpretation of his natural charm, Kei had the sneaking suspicion he secretly cultivated the look. Those bright eyes looked as though they could stare into your soul, but he was no god of insight. He simply had an intelligent way of perceiving the world, one that Kei both envied and despised.
“Can’t you tell? Tsukki’s getting uncomfortable, all this talk of marriage and honeymoons, you didn’t forget he’s single, did you Hinata?” Kuroo fixed Kei with a leery grin, insolence dripping from each word. “I might get uncomfortable too, if this story’s heading where I know it is.”
“Well that makes sense. You’re the picture of repressed chastity, Kuroo,” Kei quipped. Kuroo offered him an exaggerated shrug. The excessive movement caused his precariously folded robe to fall open, exposing even more of his chest. Here too, Kuroo defied expectations. Instead of the bulging, swollen physique mortal artisans enjoyed fantasizing about, the god possessed lithe, taut muscles that laced his frame like vines wrapped tight around a tree trunk.
“I think we both know which of us is more chaste, Tsukki.” Kuroo returned with a lazy grin. Kei sighed. As the god of not only love, but sexual attraction as well, Kei couldn’t claim to have ever been considered pure. But he had better things to do with his time than waste it on other people’s exploits. Coming here would serve to answer only one question: why a mortal? It honestly boggled Kei’s mind that Hinata would marry a human, petty, inferior things they were, whose lives expired almost as quickly as they’d come to be, like a sputtering flame. Gods frequently took human lovers, calling it common would be putting it delicately, but marrying that lover was almost unheard of.
Of course, when Hinata was involved, other people’s expectations, and even common sense, went out the window. Marrying a human didn’t break the sun god’s top ten stupid stunts. Besides, Hinata had found a human whose stupidity was compatible with his own. Kei had never seen the sun god shine so brightly as he did he spoke about his husband. It almost made him wonder if his own life lacked a certain...spark.
Kuroo expected a retort. Kei didn’t rise to the challenge. Given time, he could come up with an appropriately scathing remark. Given time, he could concoct an appropriately vague excuse to relieve him of this get-together. Given time, Kei could do a great many things, but the flow of the conversation pushed on far too quickly as Hinata resumed his story with excruciating enthusiasm.
Kei adjusted his wings so he could settle on the couch and helped himself to an olive. Kuroo could always be depended on for fresh fruit or berries. His home reflected on him in many ways; it was loudly decorated, open, and absolutely filled with cats. A maine coon the size of a small wolf lay sprawled out next to Hinata, and a small singapura had somehow made a nest in the sun god’s feathery hair. The worst part was, sometimes Kei suspected that he was the only one who could see them. Hinata was blithely oblivious as always, and Kuroo was supposedly so used to them, that it’s like they aren’t even there. But–
“Kenma has allergies,” Kuroo said solemnly. The conversation had switched gears while Kei had been lost in his thoughts. “Cat allergies.”
“Oh, that sucks,” Hinata said sympathetically. But his expression morphed into one of confusion as he took the time to process what Kuroo said. “Wait, how is that possible?”
“I think he does it just to fuck with me.”
“Ah.”
Kuroo had found a god to marry, the god of sleep. He was a quiet, intelligent god who was obviously prone to dozing off at a moment’s notice. In Kei’s opinion, he made excellent company. Somehow, Kuroo had convinced Kozume to marry him; how exactly that had happened was beyond Kei’s scope of understanding. Kei couldn’t think of a god whose presence he could tolerate for even the week that Hinata’ nuptials had lasted, much less the rest of eternity.
He disliked times like these, times when he unusual desire for a partner would surface. He had felt it at Kuroo’s wedding, amongst others. Love gods were often invited as some sort of good luck charm. Thing about good luck charms is that they never seem to have any luck of their own. Take the poor rabbit who lost its foot for example. Maybe that’s why he was still single, but he didn’t need another person in his life for fulfillment.
Akiteru was curled up on one of the couches in his temple, drinking his tea and considering the debate currently enthralling Mt. Olympus: Hinata’s marriage to the human Kageyama Tobio. A cool draft swept through the room from one of the open walls, ghosting over the decorative tiles which well complimented the colors of approaching autumn.
The door slammed, and Akiteru sighed into his tea. He barely looked up as Kei stormed by, already thinking of ways to broach whatever topic had his brother in such a huff. He would have to be clever; Kei despised talking about his feelings.
“You’re back earlier than I would’ve expected from a visit to Kuroo’s,” Akiteru said casually. His curiosity burned, but Aki knew better than to let it drive his questioning. Nothing spooked Kei more than a series of direct questions.
Kei glared at him, immediately seeing through his veneer of nonchalance.
“Hinata was there,” Kei explained tersely. Akiteru could see that he wouldn’t be offering any important information on his own. Well, the most valuable things in life were those you worked for.
“I would’ve figured Kuroo annoyed you more than him?” Aki phrased the statement as a question. Kei collapsed onto one of the room’s overstuffed couches and draped an arm over his eyes. His wings curled around him protectively, downy barriers between the god and the rest of the world.
Several moments passed.
“Yeah,” Kei said finally. “He did.”
Akiteru frowned. He picked up his tea and crossed the floor to sit down next to his brother. Kei didn’t look up as his older brother approached, but he shifted his legs off of the couch in order to make room for him to sit.
“What did he do?” Aki hummed over his teacup. His brother’s wings parted, granting him a glimpse of the sour look Kei threw in his direction. He chose to ignore it.
“Hinata got married,” Kei said, avoiding the question. Kei wouldn’t lie to him, Akiteru knew, but shamelessly switching the subject was not beneath him. Still, his curiosity was piqued. He decided to let it slide.
“I heard. Did he seem happy?”
“ Ecstatic ,” Kei hissed. Akiteru began to get an idea of what could be bothering his brother.
“It was a beautiful wedding.” Aki decided to press the topic in order to test his hypothesis. “The hyacinths were in bloom, do you remember?”
“Who cares about flowers?” Akiteru sighed. Maybe it would be better to cut to the chase.
“Kei, do you want to get married someday?”
“Aki-nii,” for a second, Aki thought he could detect vulnerability in Kei’s voice, “kindly shut the fuck up.” And it was gone.
Akiteru braced himself and forged ahead. “There’s nothing wrong with being single, but I think you’re unhappy.”
Kei glared at his brother, but he didn’t dispute the statement. There was an unspoken rule of honesty between the brothers, dating back decades. Akiteru had lied once, and it had nearly ruined their relationship. Now they learned other ways to fall apart.
He took a sip of tea.
“It’s been awhile since you last visited,” Aki remarked. “This must really be bothering you.”
“No. I just figured he would’ve dropped it by now.”
“Who? Kuroo, or Hinata?”
“Hinata.” Akiteru grunted in surprise.
“Wait, do you mean the teasing, or the marriage?”
“The marriage,” Kei said. He lifted his arm and tucked it behind his head. Uncovered, his eyes seemed to search the ceiling for answers. “I figured that he would get tired and move on from that mortal, but they’ve moved in together. In a couple of decades, it’ll be over. So what’s the point?”
“Well,” Akiteru said cautiously, “if Hinata and Kageyama are both happy, I don’t see the problem. Besides, it’s not unheard of for a mortal beloved by a god to be granted immortality, if they have proven themselves, and King Ukai agrees.” Steam rose from Akiteru’s cup, turning the air between the brothers hazy.
“True,” Kei admitted. “But wouldn’t that simply make their pettiness eternal?”
“Maybe you could find a human who isn’t petty?”
“Such a human doesn’t exist. And even if they did, they would just be after something.”
“You can’t think of a figure from your past who truly loved you, with no ulterior motives?”
“Do. Not.” His wings fluttered irritably.
“Besides me, of course,” Akiteru said with a grin. Kei’s look said, don’t test your luck , but Aki could tell it was just a front. Well, mostly a front. Kei sighed and pressed his cheek against the couch cushion.
“Why don’t you tell me what Kuroo said?”
“I don’t want to talk about the god of bedhead.”
“God of fruit trees and animal husbandry,” Akiteru corrected gently. “I know you’re mad, but do you want to be plagued with bees again?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot my place. Please accept my most humble apologies, Aphrodite, child of the sea foam and the first rays of dawn, gifter of love and affection to all mankind.”
Akiteru looked away awkwardly, “That’s a little too formal….” Kei snorted.
“I’m fine, I really am,” he insisted. “Just...not as fine as I’d like to be.”
“Maybe you should look for someone…?” Akiteru triled off as Kei fixed him with a glare.
“ No. All the gods I know are hypocritical, petty children with far too much power.” Akiteru barely got his mouth open before Kei held up a finger and continued; “and a human wouldn’t work. Even if I could find one that I could truly love, it’d be over within a few decades…. That’s not worth it.”
“Kei. You- seriously?? Hundreds of gods and goddesses, billions of humans, and you don’t think any will be suitable? I don’t think you’re even willing to try!” Kei’s eyes widened, his blank, golden gaze slowly beginning to narrow.
“Really Nii-chan? You want me to look through all the gods, and humans in existence to to find a partner? I’m not desperate.”
“Kei, what you are is unhappy.” Kei stilled, looking away from his brother. He was quiet.
“I… am content.” He rose from the couch. As he began to move, Akiteru spoke into the hush that had fallen over the room.
“You haven’t been to the human realm in…” He trailed off, hoping for a reaction.
“... Ten years.” Kei finished, his tone painfully neutral.
“That’s a long time for humans. You should at least give them a chance.” Kei hadn’t turned around, but he’d paused long enough for Akiteru to say his piece.
“Good night, Aki-nii.” And Kei left the room, the quiet sound of his padding footsteps paused when he reached his room, entered, and the hush fell again.
Akiteru sighed, smiled ruefully, and briefly calculated.
“Ten years, huh. Then he’d be… eighteen now.”
Kei flopped on his bed, thoughts churning. Why did everyone feel the need to remind him of this right now? Akiteru, with his good intentions and flawless memory. Ten years ago… Kei suddenly tried to grasp his quickly dispersing anger. Rage was simpler than nostalgia. He thought of Kuroo, with his dumb, self-satisfied smirk, and Hinata with his sappy disposition and lack of common sense trying to rekindle that spark of rage. But as he sank onto his bed, Kei felt only an overwhelming melancholy.
Sleep didn’t come easy. Trying to clear his mind only invited thoughts Kei would rather keep locked away. Thoughts of bright summer days and high, clear voices filled his brain as he struggled with slumber.
His eyes opened to words spoken in another time.
Hinata’s journey across the sky was accompanied by a dense heat that hung in the air. The bright rays of sunlight made the early afternoon glow. Kei had remained within the relative cool of his temple, hiding from the sweltering summer air, until a voice echoed through his chambers.
“Great god Eros! God of love!” Was it a prayer? Most who prayed to a love god would look to his brother, besides, this voice sounded like a child, not a desperate teenager trying to weasel out of their arranged marriage, or even an tribute from an elder whom he had blessed in the past. The voice laughed; peals of cheerful, clear laugher filled Kei’s head. He moved to his scrying pool. Upon summoning the image of the voice’s owner, Kei was floored for a moment. Within the crystal surface of the scrying pool, Kei could see a strawberry field. Not an altar, or a temple, but rows of the low, dusty plants neatly growing. A child danced amidst the rows, maybe eight years old. His laughter rang through Kei’s head.
“Great god Ero-” The boy tripped, falling on his back. He lay there giggling, his eyes squeezed shut against the sun’s light. He then sat up, looking towards the edge of the field. Kei saw a woman standing there, probably the boy’s mother. From what he could make out, she had the same dark hair and fair, tawny skin dusted with freckles. Kei couldn’t hear her words, but as she stepped out of the frame, the boy moved to follow. The image sunk back into the depths of the pool, leaving Kei with a small smile on his face, and with no idea why.
Kei blinked, and the surface of the scrying pool rippled. It reflected a clear darkness where there had moments ago been light. His room felt colder, if not for a lack of sunlight, than for a lack of accompanying warmth. Hazy shapes began to stir within the crystal waters. Kei squinted, trying to make out the unbidden scene. It wavered in and out of sight, pulling focus onto small details; a crumbling brick, clumps of weeds, a single, torn sandal.
A high, tremulous voice called out to him, “Please, I’m so scared, I just want to go home.” An unspoken wish, a prayer, for a warm, familiar embrace jerked tears from Kei’s eyes. He leaned forward, now desperate to see into the murky waters of the scrying pool, and lost his balance. The ripples spread, swallowing his tears, and then Kei himself as he followed them into the Stygian waters. He held his breath for as long as he could. The darkness was endless. Kei couldn’t distinguish up from down; he was unable to find his way back to the surface. Finally, once he could take no more, Kei surrendered with a sharp gasp. Painfully cool air filled his lungs–
–and Kei awoke, panting, covered in a cold sweat. His pillow was warm.