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An Early Morning

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Harry smiled down gently at the figure lying fast asleep in his bed. Eggsy had always looked so vastly out of place in the Underworld; whereas the scenery was often dark and macabre, the young god of Spring was light and joyous, practically glowing in the cavernous home of souls that Harry called home.

He reached forwards and brushed reverent fingers down his husband’s cheek, finding both surprise and delight in just how warm his skin was. The action caused Eggsy to open his brilliantly green eyes, and he smiled serenely back at the God of the Underworld.

“Good mornin’,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep.

“It isn’t morning yet, my love,” replied Harry.

Eggsy stretched out across the plush expanse of Harry’s bed, and then adjusted himself so that he was resting his head in the god’s lap. He still had an iris flower tucked behind his ear, barely crumpled from the time he spent sleeping. Harry ran his fingers across the smooth petals, but really, that was just an excuse to touch Eggsy’s dark blond hair.

“Mm… Let’s start the day early, then.”                          

Harry fought back an amused smile. “Might I ask why, darling?”

Eggsy chuckled, and finally moved to sit up. He cupped Harry’s cheek with one hand, and used to other to brace himself against the god’s bare chest. “I want to use every minute I have with you. Six months can pass by so quickly.”

The older god’s expression faltered. Indeed, the time had passed remarkably fast this winter. In just a few weeks, Eggsy would be back with his mother, the Goddess of Harvest, and then the slowest six months of Harry’s immortal life would drag by until he could see his beloved again. He knew it was just as torturous for Eggsy; he would often receive news from Merlin, the messenger, of the young god’s reticence in the World of the Living, where he would do naught but sigh and frown, barely cheered up by anything other than the few close friends he had outside of the Underworld. It made Harry smile vainly, knowing how Eggsy preferred his realm to the realm of his mother. He wondered if Michelle ever even noticed how much Eggsy hated to be away from it all- the Underworld, the River Styx, Cerberus. And most of all, Harry.

The god was brought out of his musings by his husband suddenly pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Have I ever told you,” murmured Eggsy into his skin, “how unfairly handsome you are?”

“Many times,” Harry answered, grinning like the lovesick fool he was. Once, his brothers, Percival and Chester, had thought him impervious to love. After all, once could not rule the land of the dead and be sentimental. But then, they hadn’t accounted for the lovely son of Michelle, whom Harry found and fell in love at first sight with. And to further their surprise, Eggsy fell in love with him as well. Percival had more or less accepted it, and gone back to rule his domain of the seven seas, but Chester had sided with Michelle on the matter. It was because of him, the so-called ‘king’ of the gods, that Eggsy had to return to his mother every six months (Eggsy, bless his immortal soul, didn’t hold this against his mother, for he loved her dearly; he did, however, despite Chester with a burning passion).

Eggsy dragged his hand along the broad expanse of Harry’s shoulders, his warm touch burning on the god’s cold skin, and continued kissing along his jaw. Harry didn’t even try to hide his shudder of pleasure, especially when the younger god draped himself over his lap.

He brought his lips up to meet Eggsy’s, and he sighed contentedly into his mouth.

“I can’t believe this is mine,” whispered Eggsy humbly. “Having you, Harry… It feels like a dream.”

Harry smiled, his heart near to bursting out of his chest, and pulled his husband in closer. The iris in Eggsy’s hair brushed against his face, sending its sweet smell to the older god’s nose, and he breathed in deeply.

“My love… If anyone should have a hard time believing his luck, it is me. To be able to wake up to this…” Harry kissed his lover’s collarbone. “… It is far more than I deserve.”

“Oh, don’t get all self-loathing on me now,” tutted Eggsy. He plucked the iris from his hair and stuck it securely behind Harry’s ear. The older god did nothing more than laugh, the action causing Eggsy to bounce slightly as he was pressed so close against him. “I’ve told you before; you are absolutely perfect. Never mind what the other gods say… You are my husband and I adore you.”

Harry stared at the young god, feeling his chest swell up with love for the beautiful, astounding, caring man. Then, finding no further words to articulate his love, he merely pulled him in for a long, sweet kiss, to which Eggsy responded enthusiastically.

Their time was limited, as they both knew, so they dared not waste anymore with words. As the mortals say, actions speak much louder, and so the only sounds filling the cavernous space of Harry’s Underworld palace were gasps and moans, and the occasional murmuring of each other’s names like a ritual prayer, and by the time they were done, the sun had long since risen.

But their day, Harry decided, pulling his love into his chest in a warm embrace, was far from over.