A Young God and Their Fae (o/o)

Wyn grinned sleepily at his precious and gorgeous God, but the expression faltered when Seon left rather abruptly. Was it him? Did he do something wrong? Gods, was I drooling? Wyn hastily sat up and wiped at his mouth, but thankfully found no traces of drool. He sighed, sinking back into the mattress, but his relief was short-lived and bittersweet. Seon left him. He left me. Was he really so repulsive? Or was it something else?
Groaning, he face-planted into the pillow and sought out the comfort of his plants. He couldn't do much, but he could magically reach out to them—and spiritually, if he tried hard enough. But it was early morning, his thoughts were all over the place, so the spiritual option was out of the question. Either way, their winding and glowing auras sought him out as he reached for them, brushing over his spine and soothing his worries. Seon is not upset with you, they told their caretaker, you need not worry. They whispered what they saw, and Wyn smiled into the pillow. He might not have the privilege of seeing them in the middle of his rescued and raised collection, but knowing Seon was in awe was more than enough for him. Now, he only vaguely wondered what they were doing up so early.

While Seon cooked, Wyn hugged their pillow to his face and wallowed in the never-ending dilemma of life: when to leave the cozy embrace of the blankets. He already lost Seon's arms and warmth. Losing his blankets would be the end of him. However, the steady echo of movement from downstairs, and the traveling scent of breakfast, begged him to get up and find Seon. Wyn groaned, already hating the idea of leaving his bed, and dragged himself out from beneath the covers.

He didn't bother with changing, and instead opted for sulking through his home in just his pajama bottoms. His fingers combed through his tangled hair and ruffled it up, long bangs falling into his face, as he sleepily made his way downstairs to the kitchen. When he spotted Seon, Wyn visibly perked up and shuffled over to the God. He never thought to think through his impulses before he came up behind his God and slumped his body over their shoulders, burying his face in their shoulder and loosely hooking his arms around their neck. Breakfast smelled and looked divine. I don't deserve this, but I'll take it. "Thank you," he mumbled, "it smells amazing."

"Mmm," Wyn hummed. He wasn't in any rush to move away from Seon, and definitely didn't want to pull away when they started to gently stroke his arms. As if this was normal. As if we were a normal couple, and this was our every morning. He warmed at the thought, and chose to hold onto that fantasy for the time being. "Some of them started as seeds. Most are rescues, though. Like that flower by the river." He loved his garden, loved the room full of blooming flowers, winding vines, and sprawling shrubs. Wyn didn't admit it often. He tried so hard to keep up the macho, untouchable, dedicated scholar persona, and an unhealthy obsession with plants didn't exactly help that image. "I'm glad you like them." Blushing? He was definitely blushing.

A little voice told him he was lingering too long. Hanging off of a God wasn't something a normal cleric did, and he felt guilty for enjoying it. Wyn enjoyed watching and listening to Seon gush over the fruits of his interests and looking at him like that. He wanted this to be his everyday. His normal. And perhaps it will, once they began their adventure.

I'm lucky, Wyn thought with a large note of amusement, that I enjoy listening to this blabbermouth talk. He burrowed further into Seon's shoulder and clung to them for as long as he was allowed while they talked, and the time flew by. In no time, he was being tugged into a chair and manhandled around. Wyn let it happen with a soft smile, and leaned into the warmth he briefly lost throughout the duration of breakfast. The food wasn't fancy, but it was good, and Wyn devoured it as politely as possible without looking like a slob. Of course, they couldn't go in silence. Not that he was complaining, because it gave him the excuse to sit and stare at the God without looking like a creep. He managed to sneak in a soft compliment for the food when there was a pause between Seon's mindless chatter, not wanting to interrupt but also wanting to show his gratitude once more.

"You're welcome to stay however long you want."

Seon's words echoed through Wyn's skull, even as he cosied into their chest, and unwound him into a flustered mess. My love. Did he dare fantasize? Images filtered in and out of his mind. Seon gently coaxing him from his slumber every morning as a routine. Breakfast waiting and ready for him on the kitchen table and a kiss for a greeting. Endless hugs. Endless nights spent happily trapped under Seon's weight. Wyn shut down that train of thought before he got too ahead of himself, the tips of his ears a slight pinkish hue from the beginning of impure thoughts. To distract himself, he buried himself further into Seon's chest and tipped his head back to press a whisper of a kiss to the edge of their jaw. Maybe I can pretend. Wyn idly dragged his nails back and forth over Seon's arm. Maybe I can pretend, to myself, that this is real. Maybe it can keep me from freaking out anytime he does anything that toes the line of platonic affection.

Wyn could fall back asleep right there. Seon's arms felt warm and safe, and the steady beat of their heart became a lulling background noise. He was ashamed of his first reaction when Seon broke the silence, which was to pout. Wyn was very willing to stay cuddled with Seon for the rest of the night. His eyes fluttered closed in contentment at that kiss to his forehead, and he released a slightly disappointed hum in response.
"Not many. It's pretty much just Míría and Phorae, and you've already met one." When he felt fingers combing through his hair, he shifted enough to allow Seon more access to do whatever they were doing with it. His tongue managed to withhold the comment that Seon looked gorgeous, if a bit rumpled, and was nowhere near 'ghoulish.' Wyn could stare at them all night if he could.

Wyn was about to be a fool and protest against Seon doing his hair, mostly because he remembered its horrible state and felt the hot rod of embarrassment prod at his ribs. But then he was moving against his will, and Seon was pulling him through his home. Wyn let him drag him about, an amused and bewildered smile hovering over his lips. His God's excitement at practically everything felt like a breath of fresh air, filling Wyn's lungs and flushing out the stagnant monotony of his life before Seonastra.

He confirmed that, no, he didn't have a preference, and fell silent to let them do what they wanted with his hair. All the while, he watched them in the mirror, enthralled and momentarily shameless. His eyes never strayed from Seon's face while they worked, at least until they gently laid fresh curls around his face and paused—only then did they drag themselves down to his own reflection and take in the other's work. Wyn blinked, stunned; his fingers hesitantly rose to ghost over one of the strands. "I–?" He had never been able to tame his hair more than the routine straightening. But Seon managed to make it look beautiful, with numerous braids delicately wound together and falling with the rest of the free-flowing hair. Even the curls looked better than usual. "Magic," he announced. "It has to be." Wyn grinned up at Seon's reflection, eyes sparkling. Clearly, he was joking, but his delight proved bright and very real.

"I should have you dress me, at this point," Wyn mused before he could think through the words that leapt from his tongue. He froze for a millisecond, then pretended he didn't say anything and instead tucked himself against Seon, melting into the hug. Minute by minute, Wyn trusted himself to be more comfortable with affection. Of course, he had Míría and her overly exuberant friendship. He could hardly go a day without getting barreled into from an impromptu hug "just because." More than a few times, she crawled into bed with him when she had a particularly bad nightmare and needed company. But her affection had been nothing more than a friend, at least to Wyn. It didn't make him tongue-tied and breathless. He didn't risk dying on the spot when she simply looked at him a certain way, or smiled at him just so, or said a simple kind word. He didn't feel the need to hide away from the world using her presence.

And Wyn definitely didn't feel his soul leaping from his chest at being referred to as her lover. Not like it did with Seon. He choked on air and coughed, a hand quickly coming up to cover his nose and mouth and a blush pooling over his cheeks and ears like spilled ink. "We'll discuss that later." In a far away future. One where Wyn could look up to Seon and not feel his heart squeezing itself to death. One where their power imbalance wasn't so grand. One where Seon was attainable and not just a pipe dream.

Wyn let himself be pulled around, now resigned to his fate and completely fine with it. When they came to a stop, he reached up and gently ran a knuckle over the petals of a florescent purple flower, though he stayed close to Seon's side. "I don't mind, so long as they don't go to waste, and there are enough to replace the ones you take. They don't like being picked for no reason." Wyn caught Seon's stare and shyly ducked away, face pressed against their shoulder to hide his prominent blush. But even as he hid away, he was overly aware of the hand linked with his, and started running a thumb over the God's skin in a miniature show of affection to return that look in Seon's eyes. How long had he been watching me, to be this comfortable and loving towards me? How much does he know about me? Oh, how he wished he could match their level of knowledge, if only so he could match the borderline flirting with more confidence and surety in how they felt about him.

Wyn stole a few glances at the flowers Seon picked, confusion and curiosity taking over most of his flustered state. He wondered what they wanted to do with them, but it didn't feel right to pry. So he nodded and walked ahead of Seon, leading them through the house by the hand still intertwined with his. "Yeah, just let me leave Mír a note and grab a jacket." He tugged Seon back downstairs and into the kitchen, then crossed through the archway and into the main living space. He didn't want to let go of that hand just yet, so he didn't, even as he plucked up a pen and found a small notepad to write a note to his friend, letting her know that he'd be out. Next came the long silk shall, a soft baby blue color. It, sadly, required two hands to put on. As soon as he draped it over his shoulders and carefully fixed his hair, his hand latched back onto Seon's, and he tipped his head towards the door. "Ready? I was thinking we start with the churches."

"Perhaps," Wyn agreed, leading Seon out of the door and locking it behind him. "Maybe your presence will bring her there." He tried being hopeful, he really did. The years of disappointment and frustration had made him slightly bitter when it came to optimism, especially regarding the silence and disappearance of the Gods. But with Seon's arrival sparked a miniscule flame of hope within his soul, and Wyn desperately held onto it and did his best to keep it from going out.

With one last examination of the house, making sure the plants and trees were still happy and healthy—and that his roommate stayed asleep for their departure—Wyn hummed to himself and made his way to the nearby churches, pulling Seon along with him. The path he followed was well-worn from years of use. Stepping stones buried beneath the dirt surfaced every now and again, covered in moss and loose pebbles. Wyn was sure-footed as he walked over them, deftly avoiding those sticking up at odd angles and knowing when to kick the rolling stones out of the way to avoid a twisted ankle. The further they walked, the more the churches loomed over them, and the more Wyn made sure their hands stayed intertwined. He didn't want Seon stolen away form him.

As interesting as it was to hear about Seon's parents—a subject that Wyn thought about the moment his mother was brought up—the stares and attention they were attracting put him on edge. He resisted the urge to slap a hand over Seon's mouth and beg them to shut up, at least long enough to get away from the rest of the people. But that wouldn't do them any good anyway, because Seon attracted attention even with his mouth closed. Wyn's eyes darted all around at the people eyeing them, and took an obvious step closer to the God. Possessive. He was possessive, and he had no desire to hide that.

Wyn used his free hand to gesture towards Seon in a sort of 'shush' movement. "I'd recommend keeping this topic rather quiet while we're here," he murmured, keeping his tone gentle but low enough to keep eavesdroppers from listening in. "It might be full of clerics, but the appearance of a God… and you specifically?" I want you to myself. "Let's just keep your nature a secret for now, until it's time. Please? It might cause a fuss, and I don't want to risk it being… not ideal." As he talked, he stared down anyone that dared get too close or too curious. Maybe it made him seem crazy, or mean, but it wasn't their business. Not yet. Not until everything was over, and the Gods were back. Not until Seon went back home, where Wyn couldn't hold his hand and demand their undivided attention.

"Yeah, good idea." Wyn nodded and tugged Seon along with him towards the large doors leading to the chapel. "Maybe you'll see your mom there?" He hoped he'd be able to see the family resemblance before needing to have her pointed out. A couple little kids ran up, unabashed and ignoring their parents' hushed scolding. Wyn wanted to get Seon out of there as quickly as possible, but he couldn't just ignore the curious littles. He smiled and entertained them with some minor magic tricks, which they fawned over, and sent them off with the promise of the Gods' blessings and expensive gifts. As they ran off, he watched them until they went back to their parents, then turned his attention back to Seon and getting them out of there.

"It should be emptier in here than the main rooms," he said, casting a glance over at Seon before shouldering open the doors and waving the God through. A part of him said now was the time to release their hand, and his eyes lingered on their clasped hands while he silently debated.

Wyn didn't need to make his decision, because Seon was now leading the way by pulling him along. He didn't complain, nor did he comment, and instead pressed into his companion's side, hooked his chin over Seon's shoulder, and gazed up at the statue of the Goddess of Fertility. Instantly, he could see the resemblance—most noticeably in the antlers—and sent up a silent thanks to his mother for passing on her beauty to her child. He unconsciously grasped the pendant at his throat and whispered a few positive words to the Goddess, hoping she could hear him. Wyn wanted to say more, wanted to tell her that she had to be an amazing mother to have a child like Seon, no matter how clueless they sometimes seemed. He wanted to ask her what happened to the Gods, and why he, specifically, was chosen. He wanted to gossip with her and learn every little thing about Seon, hear every embarrassing and heartwarming story from childhood, share a drink and unload his worries on a listening ear that wasn't quite the same as speaking to a statue.

"She's beautiful," he agreed, eyes seeing her in a new light. Not with the eyes of a cleric, but with the eyes of someone who knew part of her family. Somehow, his view of the Gods became skewed. Wyn saw them more as people than these perfect beings. He blamed that on Seon, but not harshly. His gaze darted over to the God at his side and smiled shyly, teeth bearing down on his bottom lip. "Like you."

Wyn couldn't help his small pout at the lack of reaction to his compliment, and it deepened even more when Seon extracted himself from Wyn. He had expected a little more than just a soft thanks, but he didn't say anything and only followed them to the statue of his father. Really, Wyn wasn't surprised that Seon was birthed from two Gods, but the pair was odd. Bravery and Conquest with Fertility? He couldn't have predicted that, but here they were, with Seon as living proof.

Coming up behind them, Wyn went back to resting his chin on their shoulder and hugged his arm to his chest this time. Loaldir… He had a hard time imagining the stern face staring down at him morphing into a kind and comforting smile. Or really anything Seon described. Wyn repeated the process as he did with Oxelene, though made sure to keep on the God's good side—just in case. When he was done, his gaze flickered back and forth between Seon and the statue. "If that's an accurate representation… your parents will have a hard time denying your heritage." When he said it, the realization made him slightly nervous. If he could see it, then other clerics would likely see it as well, which put them in a dangerous position. But he tried keeping that worry to himself, setting it aside until it was real instead of just a paranoid thought.