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Love was not meant for Viktor. Everyone he attempted to share a devotion with had a tragic fate: cheating on him, dead, turned into a flower or a tree. Everything but happiness. Yet, the romantic in him ached to find his other half. He knew he was not human and actually had no other half. But he wanted to be happy, he wanted to feel something more than just a passing hint of affection. To find love like, yikes, Eros found his Psyche.
There was one simple reason as to why he could not find love: that treacherous, wretched, scheming, deceiving little (not so little anymore though) winged creature known as the god of love had cursed him. Eros had to have cursed him that one time, or Viktor wouldn't have failed like that over the last millennia. Hyacinth wouldn't have been killed. Coronis wouldn't have cheated on him. He wouldn't be down on his luck in the matters of the heart.
Viktor thought that Eros’ motives were quite petty and unbefitting of a god. Cursing someone else just because they teased (it was only teasing, not mocking) his bow? Such childish feelings! How did Aphrodite and Ares let their son run rampant over people’s hearts the way the little winged god did!? And if he was so sensitive, then why was he the one taking care of love- Actually it made sense for Eros to be the one taking care of love if he was sensitive. A certain affinity with emotions was certainly needed… But he was straying away from his original thought. Eros was childish and he should not curse people just because they teased his bow.
At the very least, the smaller god seemed to have pitied Viktor's children. The curse did not seem to pass through generations. His son Asclepius found a wife for himself, Epione, and they were living happily together, awaiting a baby soon. Masumi found Chris, a reputed centaur, known for raising and fostering heroes. Just to throw off some examples from the top of his head. They could find the solace he couldn't, and that somehow filled his heart a bit.
Viktor's wandering thoughts had channeled onto his feet and taken him to Thessalie. When he came back to himself, he was standing on top of a hill, watching down the green meadows, where a flock of sheep grazed. A figure, not too tall but not short, watched over them. It wasn't a particularly special figure and Viktor was going to overlook them. He wasn't currently looking for a lover. He had just helped Admetus marry Alcestis, and they were absolutely adorable. But, death loomed over Admetus’ head and he needed to figure out a way to stop that. Perhaps he could talk to the Fates…
A loud roar echoed through the meadow down the hill, pulling Viktor out of his musing. The sheep flock didn’t graze peacefully anymore, but it instead ran around, trying to escape the predator that had disturbed them. A proud lion ran after the sheep, its mane glistening under the sunbeams, claws glowing sharp and mouth wide open, teeth showing. Poor sheep won’t stand a chance, Viktor thought dryly, but it wasn’t like it was his problem. If they were to be sacrificed later, then the lion was just speeding up the process. Viktor was about to turn away when he noticed the figure from earlier standing up.
He couldn’t determine very well what the figure was as he only saw their profile. Their chest was flat but their hips were wide, perfect for birthing. Their face was occulted by the long, midnight hair that reached right under a round, beautiful behind. Which brought Viktor to his next observation: the figure’s legs and arms were toned. They were strong. They moved with the grace of a dancer, something Viktor mostly only saw in Tepsychore.
Viktor couldn’t help but be transfixed by the mortal as they charged towards the lion bare handed. He had to admire the young man’s - if the open chest area of his chiton was any indication - bravery for fighting the predator disarmed. He pitied such an attractive creature because he would certainly perish.
The lion was dead in five minutes. The man had wrestled it to the ground before its neck was snapped to the side awkwardly. And all the while, Viktor did not think of interfering to save the mortal’s life. But his breath hitched at the display of strength and he downright blushed when the youth looked up and cleaned the sweat from his forehead, pushing the hair aside while doing so.
Oh. He was beautiful. His lips were plump and red, and they curved into a satisfied smirk, his eyes were soft and the color of dark, melted bronze, his nose was small and adorable like a button. His skin looked smooth with a faint hint of sunkissing (and Viktor was internally smug that that was because of his sunbeams), freckles peppered all over the youth’s face and shoulders.
For the thousands of times in his ageless existence, no matter how bad it turned out (most of the time), Viktor was in love. That stupid cherub’s arrow had gone straight through his chest and gotten him. But this youth though… Viktor had a feeling. It would be, perhaps, the greatest story he would have.
Admetus’ fate could wait a little. His death was only scheduled in a few years. First, Viktor needed advice because he clearly only made bad decisions (or so Yakov had told him, but he usually paid no mind to a man that was constantly cheating on his wife’s words). He knows who to look for. But, oh well. It may be only a little awkward…
“Father-in-law!” Chris exclaimed as he opened the door of his and Masumi’s house. “Always a pleasure to see you! What do you need today? Any new heroes or gods for us to train and foster?” He looked behind and around Viktor. “Children of yours if it is? Don’t mind me asking, Masumi loves having his siblings around. Speaking of that! You just missed Asclepius and Epione! They were here yesterday-”
“Chris,” Viktor interrupted the centaur’s rambling with a gentle laugh. “It is good to see you too,” he replied as he entered the house. Masumi came over and greeted Viktor with a hug. “Hello my dear.”
“Papa, lovely to see you. Come, sit,” Masumi smiled softly and guided Viktor over to the divans in the room they used to be in the most. Chris lowered his half-horse to lay next to where Masumi sat, so he could be eye-to-eye with the rest of his family.
“So, what brings you over today?” Chris questioned, reaching out to hold Masumi’s hand.
“I need some advice,” Viktor admitted, a blush spreading over his face for the second time that day. Rarely did Viktor ever need advice and help from anyone that wasn't his twin sister. Even more so, when ever would a god ask their child and their partner for advice? When they faded and became dust among the wind, that was when.
Chris tilted his head forward, suddenly a lot more interested in the conversation. Masumi took a double back and gasped. Viktor knew why. He never heard his father ask for help for anything either. If anything, he was the reason why Yakov could consider needing help. Masumi and Chris’ reaction was predictable.
“My…” Chris’ smirk widened by the second. “There really is a first time for everything. The great sun god Viktor needs help, our help, immortal but not divine creatures, for…?”
“Oh stop it,” Masumi chastised with a frown and a gentle flick to his husband's forehead. Chris winced and rubbed his front. “You know my father never treated us differently because of our different natures,” he scowled before taking a deep breath and offering Viktor a gentle smile. “What can we do for you?”
Viktor stammered, his blush deepening, the sunlight shining through the window becoming stronger by the minute.
“I saw a mortal today,” he admitted with a lowered voice and lowering his head. “But I don't… I have…” Finally he raised his head again. “How should I approach him?”
“I-” Chris faltered. Wasn't that interesting. Viktor never stalled when it came to romantic pursuits, always doing what his heart dictated to him, often breaking it in the process. If asking for advice was new, asking for advice about love was certainly a one in a life-time event. So he turned to his husband, who knew the god before them better (somewhat anyway).
“Well-” Masumi started just as the door of the house was slammed open.
A blond, lanky teenager with piercing green eyes entered, his chiton exposing half of his chest as he groaned and grumbled under his breath, a sword hanging from his left hip. He barely slammed the door closed before he noticed the visitor. He gawked, pointed at Viktor with a screech before his expression turned to one of fury.
“Why are you here!?” The teen, Yura, and Viktor’s son, asked, finger still pointed at his father.
“Well hello,” Viktor chuckled at the dramatic entrance. Yura scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Do not patronize me,” he bit back. Feisty as always.
“He’s visiting because he needs some advice,” Masumi replied, sighing at his brother’s antics. He got up and served a fourth glass of water for the third inhabitant of the house. The teen took it with a grumble, but he downed it fast before asking for another one.
“So the old man wants advice?” Yura said unimpressed, holding the glass.
“Yes, well,” Viktor started and winced as he tried to hide the blush on his cheeks. Yura narrowed his eyes as Chris barely contained a smirk. Then, the teenager finally understood the situation. His eyes buldged out and he almost spit his water out. He swallowed it with a few coughs before he stared at Viktor.
“You’re in love!?” He yelled, slamming his glass down, his hand flying to the handle of his sword on his hip. “Again!?”
“You didn’t need to say it like that...” Viktor muttered and frowned at the way his son was behaving. A tad too aggressive for a young lad like him.
“Yura,” Chris gently chastised. “No yelling in the house and no weapons inside.”
Yura rolled his eyes but opted to cross his arms instead. “You’re not my mom.”
“But I’m your brother-in-law,” Chris countered.
“I did not choose you and I don’t know why Masumi chose you,” he grumbled under his breath, picking some raisins that were laying around before he ran to his room as Masumi went after him, yelling “YURA!”. Chris sighed and shook his head before he gestured for Viktor to rise so they could take a stroll.
Exiting the house, Viktor could hear some screaming from inside. Chris shrugged, noticing the god’s expression.
“I’m sorry for his attitude. He’s not usually that mean but…”
“He resents me,” Viktor finished with a shrug as they walked. He knew why. He’d dropped Yura with Chris and Masumi almost seven years ago, when Yura was eight years old and his mother had just died, and he’d rarely visited ever since then. “It’s alright, I get it.”
Chris nodded but waved his head, like he was batting the unsettling thoughts away. “Back to your problem,” he switched subjects. They arrived at a tree Viktor remembered well. Chris had planted it centuries ago when Masumi had asked for something that could withstand time, to prove that their relationship could be as long and strong.
“What should I do?” Viktor asked again. His voice trembled and sounded broken. It was so different from what a god should behave, of what he represented. Viktor was immortal, he was the sun, he was the light, he was health, he was rhythm, he was music. He was the physical representation of perfection. Perfection would never falter, it would never doubt, it would never question anything. It would just act. But Viktor doubted, Viktor questioned. He couldn’t act.
“Well,” Chris lowered his horse half on the grass, joining his hands behind his head. “You’re a god, Viktor,” he shrugged. “If you want something, you should go for it.”
Viktor nodded and placed a finger to his mouth pensively. “Right, I should grab him.”
Chris coughed harshly and almost choked as he pulled his upper body forward, hitting his chest. Viktor barely noticed his friend’s shocked and practically horrified face as he felt hope for the first time in a decade. The passing of time was always abstract to him, and a decade was usually nothing to him. But the way he’d been recently… He’d felt the despair caving in his chest even more than usual.
But this mortal… This mortal was making the world shine again in a way it only had centuries ago. Viktor was in love again, but he had hopes for this one. It would be alright this time.
“Thank you Chris!” Viktor smiled and shook his friend’s hand. “Give my love to Masumi and Yura, I have to go!” He yelled as he ran away, not staying to hear the centaur’s protest.
The night Yuuri was born, the gods were displeased. Or rather. Tepsychore, the muse of dancing, had been displeased, and not one seer, oracle or priestess could tell why.
The night Yuuri was born, he was cursed by Tepsychore, the muse of dancing. She knew, somehow, that he'd be great at dancing. It displeased her. So Yuuri was born cursed with an irrational fear of showing his dancing to anyone.
And over the years, it transposed into being afraid of showing anyone any type of performance he could partake in. Being the son of the king and queen, even if it was only just a small region and he was their second child, he was still required to perform in a way or another - be it a discourse or just a general appearance - and he died a little more inside each time. He'd rather run away from it.
It was on one of those times that he was running from a public appearance at just four years old that he met the one god he later swore to devote himself fully to.
He loathed to think of all the people, his people’s eyes on him, ogling and gawking at him just because he was the prince and he had a duty to be present at the gathering for his sister’s birthday. He loved his sister, but was a gathering of that size really that necessary? The thought of being observed and ogled was so unbearable that he'd left his attendants and guards back, rushing out through the window towards the meadow, where he knew he'd be left alone, at least for a little while.
Freedom and its sweet taste lasted for about ten minutes before the little prince heard a load roaring coming towards him. A giant lion was quickly approaching, looking for its last meal. So he scrambled to stand and run away from the beast and from death.
His legs, however, were much too short and surely, the lion reached him, pouncing and digging its claws on Yuuri's arms, making the boy cry out in pain. He couldn't even crawl away. The beast was ready to lure him to the Hades. Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut, praying for the nearest deity to save him. He'd do anything. At the same time, he was prepared to open his eyes in a dark cave and face a hooded man and his boat. And he wouldn't even be able to cross the river, he had no coins on himself…
Except, the painful claws never came. When Yuuri opened his eyes, he did not see a dark cave or a hooded man, and not even a river. The sun was still kissing his skin and the lion was not on him anymore. Instead, it laid on the side, something bright standing on him. A poodle.
A poodle made of shining light, looking fluffy and wagging its tail, stood on top of the ferocious beast. It barked a few times before it got off the lion and ran towards Yuuri. He braced himself for another possible attack, but instead, the poodle stopped and licked his cheeks before starting his race back towards somewhere behind the prince.
Yuuri followed the poodle with his eyes and they landed on the most impressive being ever.
A figure stood tall, dressed in a purple and red chiton, soft-looking brown sandals, some sort of golden bracelets on his arm, glow seeming to emanate from his skin. His long, silver hair cascaded over his back to his waist and over the right side of his face. Said face had high cheekbones, curved downwards lips and oh so deep blue eyes, as blue as the clear sky.
Yuuri gaped at the presence of the stranger, but it was a fleeting moment, because said man was gone in a matter of seconds. As soon as the poodle joined him, he threw a quick glance at Yuuri, muttering some words before he turned away and disappeared in a flash. It was then that Yuuri noticed he did not feel pain in his arm anymore and looked down at his arm, completely healed.
Later on, when he came back to the city and headed to the temple, accompanied by some guards this time, and asked about the divine presence he’d encountered, the high priest had replied that the prince had witnessed the powers of the sun god Viktor.
Yuuri had been wholly devoted to the divine being after that day.
He recited his prayers in the morning as soon as he woke up then cleansed himself before going to the temple. There, he knelt and worshiped the statue before he offered a sacrifice. By the evening, he came back to the temple and offered a second sacrifice, kissed the statue’s feet and went back home. When he was not praying or at the temple, Yuuri dressed in dark red and gold, associated colours to Viktor, he wore his hair long to his thighs, and he carried a sun pendant. He practiced music, medicine, dipped his feet into divination, and only strove further into dancing. He even got a poodle like the god's beloved light companion and named him Vicchan.
Everything that Yuuri did was to be closer to the god. He even attempted to become a priest. He dissuaded himself because the day the tests came, he faltered, his voice got trapped in his throat and his whole body shook with the ugly perspective that everyone would try to be there to watch their prince become the one to communicate with the higher being.
But now… Now he knew he’d never get the god’s attention. It was a thought that ruminated through his mind while he watched his family’s flock graze in the meadows. Because he’d rather act like a sheepkeeper than a prince. A sheepkeeper had no expectations like a prince had.
Yuuri would never be the god’s favourite. He had just attended the Olympics and failed each sport proposed miserably. All because a messenger had the unfortunate task of telling him his trusty canine companion had passed away a few days after he'd left for the competition. And so he had lost at every sport, bringing shame to his people. His parents had affirmed they were still proud of him and that everything would be fine. But he knew, deep down, that they lied and he was only expecting them to just disown him.
A sheepkeeper had no expectations and could lose themselves in the meadows. Maybe he ought to do that. It would be a favour for everyone.
Before he could dwell further into the idea, a lion came out of nowhere, making the sheep scatter around. Yuuri rolled his eyes. He was not four years old this time. He was twenty-four and far more strong than before.
The lion was dead in five minutes. Yuuri wiped the sweat from his forehead when a feeling of being watched made him turn around. But there was nothing. Huh.
Yuuri guessed he needed to pray more and harder.
Viktor was sure of his plan. He was going to appear in front of the mortal, confess his love and whisk him away so they could finally be happy together. He'd make his lover a god, they would live a passionate romance, make tender love and beautiful children, if his new beau so wanted.
So, with steeled resolve from Chris’ advice, Viktor hopped on his golden carriage and guided his horses back towards Thessalian lands, where he knew to find his new beau.
It was not hard at all. His soon-to-be lover was back in the meadows again, except he was by the river this time. He dipped his feet in it, his hair clearly wet as he braided a part of it. It made Viktor’s lips go dry and his eyes bulged at the sight. He felt a tightness in his throat and heart and it made him make his horses go faster. Viktor hopped off his carriage and all but rushed towards the figure just as the raven-haired man was tying the end of the braid.
“Hello,” he approached with a kind voice. The man looked up and yelped, immediately getting to his feet, only to drop to his knees again and prostrate himself in front of Viktor.
“My lord,” the man whispered and stayed planted there, forehead to Viktor's feet.
“Oh please, none of that,” he chuckled with uneasiness as he helped his (still hopefully) soon-to-be lover. “We are going to be lovers after all. We'll be equals. You shouldn't have to treat me like that.”
The man in front of him gasped and his cheeks tinted to an absolute red. He gaped and his mouth hung open but no words seemed to be coming out of it. At least Viktor could still make people speechless.
“Me?” The man uttered. “Your lover?”
“Yes.”
“You don't even know me or my name!”
“Well,” Viktor acquiesced. There was truth behind those words and he was the god of truth. “What is your name and where are you from?”
“I'm Yuuri, second son of the king and queen of Thessalie,” the man replied, seeming to gain some confidence. Good, Viktor liked that. “And you are Viktor, sun god.”
“Correct,” Viktor chuckled and extended his hand, pulling the other man close. He did not fight it. “But I believe I prefer the title ‘lover’ in what concerns you.”
And there was that beautiful blush again. Vitkor would die for that blush without an ounce of remorse.
“Come with me, allow me to love you,” Viktor proposed. “I will make you a god and a king. You just have to say the word.”
The man hummed and tilted his head to the sides before a small smile opened on his lips. “Took you long enough,” he said in a teasing tone, making Viktor's heart beat fast in his chest.
Where was all this confidence coming from!? Telling the god that it took him long enough to come pick up Yuuri!? What was he thinking??
Except, that was the thing. He was not thinking. He could not have a single, straight and well analysed thought, not when he was faced with such beauty and grace. Not when he was faced with the man whom he'd dedicated more than half of his life to. Not when he has finally been granted his deepest desire, even if he was not worth it after the Olympics.
Yuuri cared not for money or fame or kinghood and godhood. He was already a prince, he already had a taste of royalty and was inclined to dislike it. Being immortal was not worth it if it was not to spend it with Viktor and Yuuri knew all too well Viktor would get tired of him at some point. He preferred to not be disappointed.
And yet, somehow, he wanted to take the offer. He wanted to see what would bloom from this shared moment of theirs. He dares to let himself believe. What if he indeed became Viktor's lover? What if he was indeed worth it? What would stop him then?
Strangely, that little voice, that curse he bore, that always told him how worthless he was, was quiet today. It was not bothering him. For once it let him live peacefully. Yuuri guessed the god had that calming effect on him.
He did not know what compelled him, but Yuuri leaned forward, eyes set on the pair of lips in front of him. Viktor seemed to take the hint as his hand wrapped around Yuuri's waist and pulled him closer. Their lips connected for a heated kiss, like both had been waiting so long to lay claim on the other that way. Yuuri’s hands wandered over the front of Viktor’s body, one tightly grabbing his chiton while his other gripped the god’s neck, and one of Viktor’s hands found Yuuri’s hair, tangling his fingers in the loose part of it, pulling on the midnight hair.
Yuuri knew he was lost then and there. But it was alright. He had Viktor with him.
Viktor was wide awake. His thoughts were running with an incredible speed that rivaled Hermes through his mind.
Yuuri laid next to him, soundlessly asleep after a night of frenzied, passionate love. It had become the norm since he’d whisked Yuuri away nearly a year ago.
Looking at him, Viktor could not believe he actually got this. Him, of all people and gods, actually got love. After thousands of years of suffering, he felt the damned curse break.
There was a time he couldn't believe he was worth more than his skills and what he represented. But Yuuri… Oh, Yuuri proved every single time how worth he was as simply Viktor.
For a long time, Viktor had considered not involving himself with mortals anymore. Their lives were fragile and passed as fast as a season. He had almost given up after Admetus. But then Yuuri had killed a lion, showing how he was absolutely not fragile. He could withstand a life as Viktor's lover - Viktor's spouse, he thought as he reached out for the ring that was hidden in the nightstand, a ring he wanted so desperately to give Yuuri but didn't know when was the right time.
Viktor ran a hand through Yuuri's strands. They shone under the moonlight, and from the new immortality Viktor had gifted his lover. Because although Yuuri was absolutely not fragile, it was oh-so-easy for another being to decide that Yuuri was not worthy of living and snapped their fingers to break his neck. No, Viktor preferred to be careful in this aspect and keep him safe.
And Yuuri's mind… Viktor sighed. There was nothing he could do to get rid of that fear that made Yuuri paralyze when performing in front of crowds. He'd even asked Tepsychore if she could lift the curse. She'd refuse and Viktor could not argue with her. He may be the Muses’ leader, it still wasn't within his powers to force them to place or remove curses as it pleased him. But Yuuri always came out stronger after a wave of panic. He came out more determined to progress and fight the voice that made him doubt himself.
His Yuuri was the strongest between them.
“Viktor…” Yuuri's voice called, husky from their earlier activities. “Sleep…”
Viktor smiled and leaned down to kiss his lover's face. He could worry about everything at another time.