ー nyxclub

@▪ hades “Did something happen?” Adonis parrots, flabbergasted, before he repeats the words once more, “seriously— you’re asking me if something happened?” He snorts, a baffled look overtaking his usually so chiseled features for just a moment or two, before it darkens. The young deity raises a hand, ignoring the lingering tremor, and wipes harshly at the wetness clinging to his cheeks and the corners of his eyes. Was Hades being serious? Just throwing everything at his face, then had the guts to ask what’s wrong. It calls for anger to flare up from the very center of his chest, spreading, expanding.

Then, he’s tumbling backwards, landing with his bottom against the floorboards when Hades ultimately pushes him away, and he stares up at the God with wide eyes. And there, on the face of the the man who’s supposedly the God of the underworld, Adonis reads something akin to fear blossoming across his features. Dark eyes blown wide, mouth hanging slightly agape and the younger out of the two wants to retaliate. And so he does, throws his arms out to the sides while he focuses on the male. “I am Adonis! I have always been Adonis. I was Adonis back at the photoshoot, at the event, back in the goddamn underworld. Why won’t you recognize me?” Ultimately the volume of his words keeps increasing as Adonis gets more riled up. For Hades has been a source of frustration every since they met at that stupid gala. An itch he’s been quite literally dying to scratch. “I died, remember? And then your brother brought me back— God knows why though!”

He’s rendered speechless, however, when Hades begins blabbering. A perfectly groomed brow raising up towards his hairline. His own gaze shifting about inside the bedroom. “Is this all some kind of cruel joke, a prank that you’re trying to pull?” When his eyes land on Hades again, they’re just cold. With a huff, the younger gets to his feet, nimble fingers smoothing the fabric of his shirt out. “You brought me here, and I believe this is your place.” He mutters, seeing the other scrambling about, looking like he’s about to flee from the scene, tail in between his legs. And he scoffs when he’s being pushed aside, the urge to push back suddenly overwhelming. He doesn’t though. “You have the guts to call me your brother, only to push me away— Just what is wrong with you?” Then he is the one pushing past the taller, hurried steps carrying him into the hall where he locates his shoes, heart sinking like a stone. Detaching from it’s cage and dropping into his stomach. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.”

@▫ adonis What was going on? This thought simpered across his mind, and Hades could only stare at the male right in front of him. He could not tear his eyes away from the other's irises, and he wasn't sure what to say — what did this person mean? He couldn't understand what was going on, and he would love to reply to the male with an answer. However, no words left his tiers. Slowly, Hades reached out to the other, cupping a side of the other's face. "Why do you look so worried? I don't understand — did something happen? What's with the question?" He wanted to know what was going on with the male. "You're Adonis, Adonis. I don't know anyone else to be my brother, Adonis."

If there was anything he could do now, he wanted to reach out to the other because the guy right in front him looked as if he was near to tears. The room grew cold, and it felt that something wrong had happened. Did he say something wrong? Or was something about to happen and his guts were telling him to be prepared for the worst? He wished he could read what the other was thinking so he could do something for little Adonis — little Adonis Hades was quick to push the other away, creating a distance between the two. Who was he talking to at the moment? Adonis seemed taller and more muscular, features more defined compared to the ones he was used to — the child had baby fat on his cheeks now they were all gone. "Who are you?"

Hades blinked, trying to regain a bit of recognition and he quietly eyed the room that he was occupying. Where was he? He tried to rise to his feet only to feel himself being blocked. He turned his head and eyed Adonis in front of him. "What — Wait, why are you here? I thought we were at the table, having dinner with the staff? Did I do something stupid?" He brought a hand to his head, cradling the back of his head as memories of the seconds that had just played enter his reverie. Quietly, he gulped, slowly pushing the deity away so he could grab anything that looked like they belong to him and leave the room. Hades needed to go now.

@▪ hades The young God had been lost for so long it’s what he’d been getting accustomed to. It’s not that he liked it, or would have wanted it this way, quite the opposite. He just didn’t ever have a choice. Never once, did he have the power to decide for himself. There is nothing more lonely, nothing that brings more desolation to the soul. But, Adonis would never stop looking, never let that small spark of hope become extinguished. Small snippets of memories that were never enough to be pieced and puzzled together. But, is he not Adonis? Hades makes it sound like even that, his own name, is a lie. Maybe it is.

A big hand curl around the back of his neck, rubs the skin and pats his shoulder. Like the pattern is already familiar, like he’d done it many times before. Adonis remembers being a little kid, on the months where the weather got colder and the scenery got darker. The months spent in the underworld, it’s all flooding his mind now. Persephone, who smelled like the flowers of spring and sang him lullabies while her delicate fingers were carding through the strands of his hair. Who later, as he got older, brushed her lips against his, whispered sweet nothings into his ear. So different from Aphrodite, yet exactly the same. He’d been in love with both of them. Also hated both of them.

Hades. The underworld for a little human child was a terrifying place, no matter the efforts being made. He wasn’t supposed to wander off through the halls on his own, yet once he’d stumbled upon the God of the Underworld, then he always found himself coming back. At first it was for the cookies, and other treats that the man kept hidden. Then, Adonis would crawl up into the man’s lap, sit there as he watched him work. Hades didn’t treat him like a sacred treasure, but as a child. And the mortal often fell asleep in his arms, feeling protected and safe. As he got older, he didn’t sit in Hades’ lap, but he still visited frequently. Enjoyed his company, cherished making the gloomy God smile and listening to the echo of his laugh.

Now, he hears Hades’ voice, the echo of his own name. And slowly, he lifts his head, cheeks wet and lips bitten, locking eyes with the God that at some point used to call him brother. Parting his lips, once, twice, to say something. “If I’m not Adonis, then who am I?”

@▫ adonis For what it is worth, Hades just wants to let unspoken words out; vent about it, clear everything from the coven of his heart. And he supposes when he wakes up tomorrow, he’ll feel better. He’ll be the old Hades with no one to call brother. The world has been a blur a second ago and it continues to blur; Hades wants to close his eyes and fades to black but pauses. He wouldn’t care if there’s another man in his room bawling but the voice sounds familiar. And the way he reaches for a shaky breath, burying his head between his knees — it feels familiar. Slowly, Hades reaches out for the male, resting a hand on the back of the other’s head. “There, there.” He whispers, slowly finding himself on his knees.

The man does seem like Adonis now, Hades thinks to himself, lightly assuring the man to come to a stable state. He could try to make the other feel better. He has come in here, sending him off to the right room. There was decency within the mortal and Hades couldn’t let someone cry in his room. He rubs his nape and pats his shoulders, words none uttered. After all, Hades has never been good with words. Adonis, on the other hand, is the opposite of him. The boy always has a certain charm to him. If anything, Hades looks up to him for having something that the God of the Underworld doesn’t.

But as his vision sways, Hades is sure that his senses are playing a trick on him.

As he peers closer, rubbing away at the lids of his eyes, he lowers his gaze. “Adonis?” He asks in a quiet manner. Hades tilts his head, shifts. He blinks once, twice, thrice. “Adonis? Adonis, why are you crying? What happened?”

@▪ hades For what it’s worth Adonis has been fully aware that he’s been living something akin to a lie ever since he was brought back. Hades strong arms circling his waist and pulling him close isn’t helping much, only spikes for the confusion that’s already laying heavy upon his chest to turn up yet another notch. An unsettling feeling beginning to simmer about in the pit of his stomach, right beneath his navel and ironically where the elder is pressing his face. He’s stunned, arms a becoming a deadweight where his hands clench and unclench by his sides. “What are you saying..” He doesn’t want to know, not really, but Hades touch on his hand is carrying such familiarity that it coaxes a pang in his chest, for the man touches him like he’s got him memorized already. It’s infuriating, the words that are being whispered into the loaded air of the room.

And it’s unfair, so incredibly unfair, the way that Adonis’ whole imaginary world is suddenly crumbling down all around him, turning to mere ashes by his feet. Air knocked out of his pipes like the carpet is being jerked away from beneath him. He wants Hades to stop talking, yet couldn’t find his own voice in the midst of the mess of emotions and empty memories that the man was forcing to the forefront of his vision.

“Please, please stop talking.” Adonis finally begs with a voice that barely carries above a whisper; begs that Hades would stop talking about his death like he’s not standing right there. A mere 19 year-old boy who passed away far too early in a world where he didn’t even belong, in a world that should have remained a secret and a fantasy for the books. A boy that was born out of scandal and misery and murdered in the same kind of fashion. A mere 19 year-old boy who suddenly remembers everything and nothing at all as his knees suddenly buckle and gives up the battle against gravity.

“Please, stop..” He sits on the floor, all grown up but feeling like the smallest little kid, drawing his long legs up until he’s able to force his head down in between his knees to force some air into useless lungs. Once upon a time, and in a similar position, Hades had pressed cold fingers to the back of his nape, carefully provided the little boy with some comfort; when he’d wailed about missing his parents, ones he’d never even met. Adonis’ cheeks are wet when he squeezes his eyes shut. Terrified. Of most things; both the truths and the lies hidden within them. Of Hades, of himself. The people that he once trusted and the ones that had wanted to see him dead and succeeded.

@▫ adonis “You are Adonis?” Hades inquires, looking up and letting his bang falls into his eyes. Some of them start to poke at his eyes because he couldn’t give a reason why he has started to feel like tearing up now. And thus, he pulls the male in front of him closer, hugging him close and plants his face into the male’s stomach. With the confidence and a rational mind of a man who isn’t drunk, he looks up to the other and smiles. He doesn’t know who this man is to claim that he is Adonis. But, Hades knows that it’s not him, no matter how good looking he may be. “You smell nothing like him, though, the man who calls himself Adonis.” He pulls away but Hades reaches for the man’s hands. “But sure, we’ll play with it. You can be Adonis for tonight.” He nods, caressing each knuckle and the protruding veins in the male’s hands.

“Did you know, sir? Adonis usually smells like berries because Persephone picked berries from her garden. She collected the extracts and made shower gel and shampoo for Adonis when he was young.” He continues. “His fingers were so small and he had this habit of his thumb when he was feeling thirsty or hungry. Sometimes, he would bite his nails and I had to reprimand him for doing so. His fingers should have been long and strong now. And oh, right, he hated wearing inhouse slippers so he would run around with bare feet. We had to get carpeted floors so he wouldn’t get blisters. The condition of my place was rough, you see,” Hades chuckles before pulling away and leans down into the bed, closing his eyes. When you are a man with no recollection of pulling his thoughts together, memories poured out of the chamber of his mind, emotions spilt in the chamber of his hearts. “He passed away, though. A mere 19-year-old boy passed away. As the man who watched him grew, as a man he called ‘brother’, I couldn’t save him. Gods are messed up creatures after all. We say we’re nothing like the mortals yet we lusted and desired after mortals and gods alike. What was there different between us and the mortals? No, I can’t blame someone else for his death. I saw his documents and yet, I couldn’t do anything.”

@▪ hades He’s compliant to orders, it’s the way that he’d been shaped from young years, at least so figures when he picks up his steps and trails along behind the taller. It’s all so familiar, Hades’ firm grip on his own far more delicate hand, to follow and listen to his every word. To believe in them. Adonis is confused, but figures that when the elder talks about ‘Ady’ he’s referring to him. Perhaps, the man must have gifted him the name ages ago, on his months spent in the underworld.

Could be that Hades is expecting certain things from bringing the young one back to his place, wasn’t that the way things had worked when he was still a mere mortal? He’d been at the bottom of the food chain, a human boy raised by the gods and goddesses and lured into bed once coming of age. In a way, he hadn’t expected that Hades’ was ever in on the deal as well. Standing by the door Adonis watches the male fuss around, holds the towel in a stern grip between his fingers, lower lip having been caught between his teeth. Pulse drumming in his ears, both loud and annoying.

Then he steps further into the space, it’s surprisingly homey, Adonis notes while toeing his expensive leather shoes off, placing them neatly next to his host’s. Careful to make too much noise when he steps over towards the bed and the male who’s sitting down on the edge of the mattress.

“Did you bring me here to have your way with me?” It’s funny, how Adonis manages to make even such a loaded question sound nonchalant. Hojin always tells him to stop acting like a brat, but he never learns how to. The texture of the towel is soft against his digits, like those provided at the luxury bath houses and hotels, probably expensive like most things surrounding them seems to be. Almost regretfully, he lets the pleasant textile fall onto the bed, where he’s stopped in front of Hades, quietly observing the male. With his head lowered and disheveled hair falling like a curtain to cover his face, the elder looks.. vulnerable? Adonis’ eyes widen, parting his lips to ask if perhaps a glass of water would do him good, fingers stopping where they’d been undoing buttons in shirt. Then Hades speaks, voice a bit ragged like he’s out of breath, but Adonis stands close enough to pick up on the words nonetheless.

Adonis has to force himself to breathe, like he’d forgotten how such an engraved action was supposed to be carried out, but the air feels like barbed wire is being forced down his throat. Fingers freezing in their movement when he stares down. “A brother?” He repeats, eyes incredulous and wide. “But I /am/ Adonis, what are you on about?”

@▫ adonis Chanyeol whips his head at the call of a harsh whisper, blinking for a quick second before he raises his brow. Words slurred and vision a total blur, Hades knows he is drunk. Obviously, he tells himself, but there is Adonis, and he wants to stay in this dreamland. His brother is here, and just for another night, he’ll like to take Adonis to bed, tuck him in and promise of another morning where they can see each other again.

Whoever in front of him may not be Adonis, and that’s fine. They wouldn’t remember it tomorrow, and Hades could go through another night with his brother again.

Reality is a cold winter night.

“Ady, it’s late.” He whispers, tugging at the male’s hand. “You of all people know that it’s time for bed,” Hades turns his head, leading the younger to the end of the corridor, fingers searching for the key card in his pocket. He pushes the card in before unlocking the door, throwing it open with a small force. He doesn’t say much per usual, but Adonis knows of that. Hades is a man of little words, and his actions show more of what he is thinking. The god passes a towel in the man’s arms before going over to the bed, searching through the little corners and between sheets and pillows for any bed bug.

Adonis might get bitten, and tomorrow morning, it’ll hurt. What else? Hades thinks to himself, rummaging through the closet and drawers. No spare clothes. He should get some for Adonis or else, and he’ll have a hard time sleeping that night.

It would be a lie if Hades didn't go through this scenario over and over again. When he was just a child, Hades worries and prepares the bed for Adonis; how about the cookies for dessert and a glass of milk? Is the water warm enough for the young boy? When the mortal boy grows older — when is Adonis coming back from meeting with Aphrodite? Would he ben needing dinner? Oh, right, Adonis staying with Aphrodite, right. What else may he need? When would he be back?

He knows he makes the same mistake every time, brings a sword to a gunfight and now, isn’t it useless to even be thinking of Adonis when he is drunk? Why bother?

Hades heaves, taking in every single breath he could and settles down on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry. Whoever you are, I’m sorry. I mistook you for a brother of mine, sorry.” He whispers with his head hang low.

@▪ hades In the far corner of the hall a man has been playing fine classical pieces on a piano, effortlessly setting the mood for the evening, the harmonic notes mingling and mixing together with the loud chatter of conversation. As the evening progressed the conversations got louder and bolder, a result of the sheer amount of alcohol that was being consumed. Adonis sits leaning back in his seat, legs crossed as he whisks the almost clear liquid around in his glass. Hojin had just about finished his meal and left, he’s got a wife waiting at home, and Adonis tries to not stay bitter at the man for leaving him to fend for himself. His manager had simply squeezed his shoulder and muttered something about “making some friends might be good for you” before he left. Adonis tries to not take offence in that statement either. They’re noisy, the mortals, especially when indulging in an impromptu karaoke session once the pianist is traded for more modern tunes, although the young god secretly enjoys feeling like he’s a part of the team. Even if he’s just witnessing the chaos unfolding.

He finds some kind of pleasure in observing Hades out of the corner of his eye, for the god was knocking back drinks and shots like it’s the one fuel that kept his body operating and afloat. Ironic, for he remembers the very same man pestering him about drinking too much at the gala.

It’s a total of three advances, Adonis counts in his head when he hinders a hand from sliding further up on his thigh by swatting it away and raising to his feet. Bowing towards the man in question in the hopes that it should be enough to display his disinterest in whatever “fun” events he wants to bring Adonis back to his hotel for. He’s not surprised, hence doesn’t bother to get angry or cause a scene, it happens all the time. Behind him someone is murmuring words to himself, and it takes Adonis a moment to place the voice, whipping around to face the man when his ears pick up on the name. A nickname? Unfamiliar, yet it feels like deja vu when his eyes lay upon Hades, swaying lightly on his feet, a light flush of violet dusted upon his cheeks.

"Ady?" Adonis looks baffled when the deity takes him by the hand and murmurs something about putting the younger one to bed. Slurring, and Adonis wonders if he's stumbling along the lines of alcohol poisoning when he casually brings up his brother’s name. "What?" After casting a brief look upon the people surrounding them Adonis trails along with the older, nowhere near as drunk as the other, eyes boring holes into the back of Hades’ head. Trying to make sense of the situation; he’d been ignored all day only to be dragged away by the end of it. “Who’s Ady? What are you doing?” He hisses low into the man’s ear, leaning in close.

And whatever happened to ‘secrecy is essential’?

@▫ adonis The night goes on pretty well, and from time to time, the childish antics of office workers bring a smile to Hades’ face. His manager left earlier, and it is not a problem for Hades. He is a grown man; he should be able to handle a few drinks. But Kim insists and slides a keycard into his pant before leaving for the night. Hades stays and enjoys the little karaoke session they bring into the private dining room. Mortals can be fun, and it helps that they take his mind off the presence sitting next to him. Hades takes another shot down his throat.

One finger. Two fingers. Hades counts as he hangs his head low, counting each finger he has and wonders where the rest or when did he have so many? One glass is equivalent to a drop of alcohol and ambrosia, but here he is almost counting his toes too. How many drinks has he consumed? Two? Ten? Numbers become a blur in his head, and he shakes his head, pressing cold palms against his cheeks. How long has the dinner party started and how long has everyone been here? HIs little thoughts swirl in the sea of his mind and Hades tries to count but stumbles between six and seven, so he has to restart the count once more. Most of the staff are drunk and sleeping. A few have finally left, or Hades sees imaginary empty spots around the table.

The food has been okay, decent at best. Hades is not much of a critic, and he prefers just to eat what he gets. But when it’s the heart doing the talking, it turns out that he is very much of a complainer and a whiny god. He can somewhat understand why he is brothers with Zeus and Poseidon. It runs in the blood. Hades peers into his glass, turning around, searching. Then, he reaches for a bottle that holds water in it. He empties his glass first before pouring some water into it and chugging down every drop of it. It takes the deity a while to take notice of his parched throat once he places the glass down.

By the way — who are these people? Zeus' friends?

He turns his head to his right before he turns to his left, reaching out to pat the boy’s back. “What time is it?” Hades mumbles to himself, glancing over to the watch on his left wrist and sighs. “Gosh, it’s this late?” He whispers before lifting himself to his feet and taking this opportunity to stretch for a quick second. Hades can admit that he must have been working hard these past few days that even the small boy would come to check upon him. He pats the pockets of his pants and feels a keycard in his pocket and nods. “Come on, Ady. Let’s get you to bed. Don’t ask me who these people are. They might be Zeus’ friends.” He slurs, taking Adonis’ hand in his and tugs, asking for the boy to get up. “I’ll tuck you into bed, come on.”

@▪ hades They do well. It’s obvious in the photographer’s content expression whenever he walks back to monitor the pictures on his laptop. Very well, if the staff’s satisfied smiles were anything to go by. These people knows what they’re doing, and so does Adonis whenever he properly steps into the role. He knows what sells, and how to sell it. Hades does too. One wouldn’t have to be a genius to figure out that this magazine in particular would be out there; setting a new record in amount of copies cold in a flash. He’s not surprised when they’re offered dinner together with the rest of the staff, to celebrate. Adonis is about to politely decline when he catches Hojin’s stern gaze from across the room. So he settles for a smile, establishing contacts was an important part of the job. He knew.

The restaurant serves luxury as much as it does cuisine and refreshments, they shouldn’t expect anything less. A table already prepare for the large company when they pile in. Adonis is glad that he brought some spare clothes, wearing a pair of gray slacks and a white long sleeve, rather than the sweats he’d been arriving in. Hair and makeup still made up, and he catches more than a couple of knowing glances and longing gazes towards the two tall men amongst the suits.

Of course they end up sitting side by side, but Adonis doesn’t make a big deal out of it. Mindful when he orders his food, as if he was going to eat much of it, as if he cared. He ends up just barely tasting the pasta, moving it about on the plate, rather nursing the glass of fruit-filled white wine while he carried out a light conversation with the man to his left; someone important, he realises as much. When there’s a pause in the conversation, the man excusing himself for a trip to the bathroom, Adonis’ gaze travels back to Hades, catching him taking careful bites of his pancakes. Sipping on his Sauvignon Blanc, eyebrows drawing together. Adonis couldn’t describe it, the familiar air that lingered around the other God, that made him want to keep seeking some kind of contact with the male. This time he doesn’t. Not keen on another scolding or treatment of the cold shoulder, and merely cuts his eyes to somewhere else.

@▫ adonis It is beginning to look a lot like a mess — Hades tells himself, unsure of his own actions that might have to build this massive snowball that canopies down the snowy mountains. And no, it is not those jingle songs the mortals have been playing throughout all radio stations. The weather starts to grow colder, and Hades for sure can understand why the humans have begun to down on heavy outerwears and perhaps, even the undergarments. Can the weather change how one feels too because he hasn't remembered much of Adonis acting this way? Probably, it is because of him, and now, all he wants to do is reach out and apologise. Words of apologies wouldn't work, but that is the least that the god could do at this point.

However, any connection would make it harder for Hades to forget. It feels awful to have these emotions and thoughts. He hasn't want any of it, yet here he is, putting boundaries around himself. Should he have not done any of it? Start anew with Adonis as friends rather than the brotherly bond that they had before? He shivers a little when he feels the boy's breath against his cheek and slowly, Hades turns his head to face the other. The camera shutter continues to flicker and shut, capturing every single movement and fluidness of his gaze. "Right," Hades whispers back, fingers reaching out to caress the male's cheek, eyes fixate on his cheekbone.

Maybe starting a new isn't all that bad? They could be friends, good friends, always.

The shoot doesn't take too long once the two of them show cooperation. Compliments, one after another, followed after every shot is taken. And the photographer seems pleased that he offers to get everyone dinner. They couldn't say no, so both deities travel to the aforementioned restaurant. Alcohols are served along with platters of mortal foods. They don't have to eat them, of course, but Hades shoves a small piece of pancake into his mouth and chews, smiling and complimenting the taste. The night goes on pretty high, him still not saying a word the other god and Adonis seems to understand the border he has placed too.

@▪ hades Hojin is basically fuming when he stalks over, trying to look professional while he wrapped a hand around Adonis’ bicep and pulled him aside with an apology directed towards the stylist and the remaining team. There’s a wrinkle between his eyebrows that always deepen whenever he’s displeased with something; usually a person, and this time that person is Adonis. He’s not supposed to throw tantrums, he knows that, and usually he would be their adaptable puppet on strings, going along with every order and request that would be thrown in his direction. Something in Hades’ was pushing all of his buttons, not so much because he’s mad, he just feels like the other isn’t being fair. Hojin hisses into his ear, confirms Adonis suspicions and he swallows against the bitterness and apologizes to his manager. Because he’s a grown man, kinda. God, a grown god. And because he wanted this to be over as soon as possible. What a terrible idea it was, to get out of bed on certain days.

And so Hojin dunks his palm in between his shoulder blades with a few words of encouragement and Adonis walks back onto the set, posture tall and carrying that very same air that first gave him the godforsaken title that carried the promise of both beauty and desire. Handsome enough to kill, apparently. He apologizes to the photographer and the rest of the team, bows his head and tells a honeyed lie about being a little ‘overworked, probably’, and promises that he’ll do better from here on. Met with kind words of understanding.

He sees Hades sitting on the couch and stalks over, adjusting the sleeve of his jacket a little while stepping up behind the couch. “Let’s get this over with.” He simply hums, perching both hands on the back of the couch on either side of the male, as he leans slightly forward, gaze drifting back towards the camera. Like he’d been requested to. Reminding himself that Hades was the God of the underworld, of course the guy would have a ty attitude, and Adonis had been wrong for expecting a somewhat nice treatment from the other. Who was he, actually, in their universe? He was pretty much just a newborn, with stunning features and the ability to woo just about anyone that crossed his path. So, Hades was immune, big deal.

@▫ adonis He blinks, unsure of what to speak or what stance he should be projecting. The studio which has been entirely on the silence spectrum grows quiet. The camera is slowly lowered down, and staffs eye them, questions and just oddness filling their heads. Somehow, they think to themselves. Park Chanyeol has ticked a bomb in Oh Sehun. No one knows other than the two of them, or just Hades, himself. Only Hades knows so, quietly, and he reaches out with an apology. The shock has slowly settled in, and Hades no longer overthinks of the sudden outburst. He doesn’t need to have any more connection to the male. Whatever that they had was weird enough, and Hades does not need another star connecting the two again.

It has never been about the goddess of vegetation, sure, they were bestowed at one point, but Hades let go. They were friends instead of husband and wife, and Persephone understands that. They wish each other well and go their separate way from then on. When? He doesn’t remember, but it is not something that Hades dwells in much since day one. He is the god of the underworld. Who is he to ask for a hello or a forever when he is a god that requires goodbyes?

Hades walks towards the photographer and quietly talks to the man, apologising for making it awkward. It has been his doing, and he promises to be careful from then on as work is work. No point of contact, he tells the mortal before walking back into the centre of the set. A small sigh escapes his lips as he falls onto the couch, throwing his arms over the headrest and gently, he closes his eyes.

Well, it has grown awkward, and perhaps, that is the best situation that Hades could have hoped. Now, he doesn’t need to prepare answers to questions, gives reasons to whys. Although, he couldn’t help but feel tired and that is a first for the god, himself. Hades has never been on the brink of exhaustion. He is a God who never sleeps; deaths always occur at any point of the day. If a god couldn’t handle those processes, mortals should laugh at his face. However, here he is, tired from just a small push and a growl masked underneath Adonis’ voice.

@▪ hades It is obvious, and for as much as Adonis was a great actor, he’d excelled in the art of reading other people as well. On one hand to gain the inspiration and the ability to portray other people more accurately and for his acting to become more credible. On the other just to learn about their mannerisms and the play of emotions that would flash over their facial features. Their posture, standing proud or slouched. The way humans sometimes held a whole conversation using just the glimmer within the hues of their eyes as they did all the talking. It’s extremely ironic, but Hades really is no different from the humans of which he stood above, or beneath, depending on how you looked at it, really.

But, it was beginning to become painfully obvious how the other male was so keen on ignoring the actor. Never bothering to meet his eyes or even have the decency to face his general direction. Shying away from bodycontact while Adonis was just trying to play the damn part. Unprofessional. It’s not like he could force the other much, as he’s still being kept in the dark as to why Hades was displaying just as much discomfort as he was dislike. Did they have a bone to pick? And if so could they just get it over with. He couldn’t remember stepping on any of his toes, and if he did, then surely the mighty god would be aware that his memories had gone straight down the drain. Perhaps, this was just some kind of grudge revolving around Adonis and his relationship to the goddess of vegetation as well as she was the queen of the underworld. If it could even be called a relationship, for he didn’t remember much about her either.

When a hand raise and press against his chest, and the photographer exclaims that “perfect, stay there, that’s more like it!” Adonis has to bite into the the flesh of his cheek to refrain from calling the male out.

It never quite is the event that defines what happens after, but rather the attitudes and manners of those involved. One could meet a challenge with humility, grace and a brave soul; or do the complete opposite. Once the photographer seem satisfied with the pictures Adonis swats Hades’ hand away. “What’s your problem?” He quips, more defensive than anything, briefly letting his gaze travel over the god’s facial features, trying to read them to see what really /is/ his problem. Before he’s huffing and turning away, his stylist having called him over to make a few adjustments to his hair and hand him a jacket for the next set.

@▫ adonis Hades doesn’t think he would find himself working with tools or /toys/ that humans use for decades and centuries that have passed. From one’s creation to another; humans start to brand themselves into something akin to gods. Oppenheimer for example, “I am become death, the destroyer of worlds—” Humans are nothing other than errors and faults in the making. They make reckless decisions, only bound to consequences when they only realise that there are consequences in the first place. If any god is there with them in this room, they will bark a burst of laughter at Hades for he is the one that is to be killed in the setting and storyboard phase. Hades, the entity that brings doom to these humans only to be held at gunpoint by a man’s creation.

Humans are worrisome creatures; Hades thinks to himself. He stays quiet for the most part. He lets the flashes get into his two orbs, blinking the brightness away while he remains in focus, fixed to make the first run as perfect as it could. He doesn’t want to be around Adonis for any longer than he is expected. He crosses his legs and uncrosses them, eyes fixated onto the lens. But not once has he turned to the god next to him. It is at the pull around his neck does Hades gives him a look of the day.

He has been avoiding Adonis, that Hades can honestly say. But what other things should he have done? Is it the pride that is holding him back or is it the attachment he still feels when he looks at Adonis. Hades knows if there is anything — he might as well bury a hole for himself in the middle of the studio. Hades has never been good at confrontation. Among his brothers, he is the most similar to these humans, and at one point, Hades wonders if there is any reason why he is the way he is? Existential crisis? /Check/.

Slowly, he pushes the male away, pressing a hand to the god’s chest only to have the photographer telling him to stick to the pose. Hades doesn’t move, his head is fixated at a turn towards Adonis, but he lowers his gaze, not wanting to be put in a spot where he couldn’t avoid looking at the other straight in the eyes.

@▪ hades Upon further consideration it’s not that surprising that the magazine is trying on this new arc for the concept of the spread. They’re at the top of the industry, crowned as kings and in return they needed to constantly prove why that position was theirs to keep. The fashion industry was a fierce one to keep up with, constantly moving forward and people adored and went along with their every wink. If a magazine like this one stated that something was ‘in’ then the people nodded their heads in agreement, thrilled to obey. Like a bunch of brainwashed robots.

He’s not all that surprised either that they would go on to take this opportunity and go all in. As far as he’s been informed Chanyeol was a hotshot in this area, and Sehun was the rising star, already carrying more than a couple of awards in his bag. They could be two of the most popular and desired men, surely the spread would sell well just by having their names on it. That they would go with something so dramatic while having an actor at their service, he should probably expect it by now. So Adonis doesn’t really quirk a brow while he picks one of the spotless pistols up and turns it over in his hand. Not as convincing as the ones provided on a movie production, but definitely something that he could work with and make a statement.

They start with something a bit on the downlow, that’s supposed to portray the camaraderie between the two males, posing shoulder to shoulder. Adonis has the gun tucked into the waistband of the leather pants he’s wearing, cold metal nestled against the small of his back and only visible from certain angles, for that dramatic effect. Sehun’s gaze flicker upon his apparent partner in crime. Wonders if this feels as odd for him. They were going to blend acting and posing together, creating a cocktail of the two. Work up the aesthetic and atmosphere that would lead them to the actual cover page.

It’s work, and Sehun takes that seriously. And so when the photographer tells them to be more convincing, he doesn’t hesitate to throw an arm over Chanyeol’s shoulders and pulls him close. Proceeding to lean a bit forward as he directs his signature crooked smile towards the camera.

@▫ adonis The set couldn’t be more extravagant than it already is, Hades thinks to himself with a cup of water in his hand. Stylists buzz around him in a circle, one on her tiptoes, trying to reach the strand of his hair to give it a little life. Another stylist arrives to put on a coat over his shoulders, insisting that he shouldn’t slip his arms into the sleeves. His pants are leather pants, tight, a red sleeveless wool shirt and a matching, shiny black coat with his pants. There is a little to no colour on both of them, Hades notices. The concept is a little darker this year. The magazine has decided to step a foot into a different minimalistic, vaporwave, drama aesthetic.

Humans are forever changing from the top of their heads to the end of their toes. One second they are smiling, the next second they are crying. What silly creatures that the Gods have managed to create.

Hades settles down on one metal chair, listening to the directions given by the photographer. For whatever reason, there is something wrong with the concept of the shoot that Hades couldn’t pinpoint. The practice pistols prepped on the table, the ink blots on the ground and the red background. It is a story arc— between two partners of travelling criminals. Wire-jacked stolen cars, cigarettes holders and duffel bags slashed through, bills spilling out from the tears. To summarise, the magazine is changing directions, and Hades knows that for a fact. He has always been given folders of monthly magazine covers to review. Park Chanyeol needs to be updated with the latest trends, the tiniest details in the art of beading and the colour of the year.

This cover page should be something different, and for sure, Hades is interested and intrigued. But, he stops and pauses, eyeing the last few scene boxes. It’s unsettling, to say the least. Dark background, ink still spilling underneath a couch where he is supposed to sit. And he stares into the holster of a gun, gloved hand pulling the trigger. Turning to the male next to him, he stares at the gloves on Adonis’ hands before looking away.

In the end, he’s the one getting shot— how uncanny.

@▪ hades It’s not as extravagant as they make it out to be on television or whatever medias that were around in this day and age. In reality it’s quite stressful, and Adonis didn’t want to be a model in particular as it was a shallow profession and despite popular belief the young god wasn’t to be described as shallow. Acting was a whole other thing, it was about telling a story while managing to excite the appropriate feelings and draw them out of the public. Sometimes they worked to inspire and ignite a fire within the people, other times the movies were about a villian that in one way or the other told you how not to aspire to live your life.

To act and become one of the greatest actors meant to become the part, not just another version of oneself but to truly live it as a separate person. It’s the only way to be authentic. Even when he wasn’t on set, reading lines and gazing into the camera, Adonis acted the role of Oh Sehun every single day, and he loved doing it, for he got to experience what the life of a mortal could be. The actor kept his soul locked up inside a bottle. He would keep it there so no matter how many millions saw right into it, right through those beautiful eyes, it was still his. It’s kept there safely for self protection.

He sits in the chair, tilting his head whenever he’s asked to by the makeup artist, opening and closing his eyes while rolling a bottle of sparkly lemon water between the palms of his hands. Gazing back on his reflection through the mirror the look they're going for is a more natural one, makeup only working to highlight his features. He’s met with spotless and milky complexion, defined eyebrows and sharp eyes, some kind of tinted product has been swept across his lips as well. Adonis didn’t particularly enjoy playing dressup and so was quite content with the more casual look he was currently displaying. Bangs swept back and away from his face. The first outfit is a bit more eye catching, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of loose leather pants that sit high on his hips, accompanied by a black leather jacket that’s more of a cropped fit. The stylist proceeds to place a cap on his head for that complete stylish look and then fusses about his hair for a full ten minutes.

An assistant struggling to juggle five different folders and one of those takeout trays with coffee peeks her head inside, she looks young and fumbles a bit with her words. “We need you on the set, Mr Oh.” Her eyes avoidant once the blush starts spreading from the back of her neck and onto her cheeks. Adonis smiles, nods, and glances towards his reflection in the mirror one last time before he follows the assistant through the corridors and into the spacious room where all the best equipment the industry provided has been set up. It’s an all white backdrop that’s been prepared and Adonis walks around in the room, politely greeting every single one of the staff. There’s a set of speakers lined up against one wall, from which calming and downtempo beats are flowing and blending in with the sounds of conversation. In a way setting the mood for what type of pictures that they’re hoping to get for the spread.

Sehun greets Chanyeol like every other member of the staff, with a polite bow and a small smile, before he’s turning away and to sip on his lemon water. Attentively listening on as the photographer is sharing his vision for the shoot at hand.

@▫ adonis The spacious apartment belongs to the mortal known as Park Chanyeol, that is what most would believe. But Hades rarely lives or stays anywhere inside the place. It only houses one living thing, and he has to make sure he comes over every few days. At one point when he first started caring for it, Hades wonders how much of work would it be to open another portal to be directed into this apartment. But, as usual, Thanatos forbids him for doing such a thing. His words are, “You’re wasting natural resources.” and “I will knock the portal down myself if I ever found you creating one” and thus, Hades lets go of the idea. There should be a limit to what a god can and cannot do, and Hades will have to abide by the rules.

Walking inside the unit, he trudges into the living room and calls softly. He has always been worried about the cat that he has adopted from a shelter. He fancies the ball of wonder very much. The automatic feeder does its job, and his manager always makes sure to come and check on its condition. But, Hades finds it hard for him not to go and do it. For him, he has a soft spot for the Scottish fold. He could have decided not to, but the boy shows a splendid ray of sunshine in his hands that Hades brought him home after only spending an hour with him.

Of course, he receives a disapproving look from Mr Go, but he is happy — he now has a companion. It can be lonely from time to time, and the small creature lights up his world in an episodic spread. But happiness never lasts, and Hades’ skin burns from the carving of that reminder. And so, he spends the rest of the night, murmuring apologies towards the cat in his arms.

The darkness is always a home for the weak.

When he opens his eyes, Hades finds himself in a rotating chair with mortals flying around the room. One is arranging the clothes hanging on the rack while the other two are circling him. They seem busy — not even stopping for a breath and no time to spare for small talk. It has been a few days after that, and Hades reverts to his mundane activities. He moves from each realm, doing deskwork in his kingdom while doing walks in the mortal realm. Every day, it has been busy and distracting. Whenever he has to work in the human world, he heads back to the apartment, but when Hades has to go back to the other place, he leaves with little hesitation. But he knows, his mind will be engulfed in nothing other than more work.

But he never realises that he is to work on the magazine cover on this exceptional day. Is he nervous? Perhaps — it is still a job, and he needs to do his best. Does he expect anything to happen during the shooting? Well, only the good things like a perfect shot for every session. Does he have anything to say to his partner? Well— maybe, no. The concept doesn’t ask for it. And Hades would like to stick to it. “Five minutes, Mr Park. We will be ready to have you on set. Mr Oh is in the next room, and we will come and get the both of you soon.” A staff says after barging in with a small knock. If any, the team working with him hates it, but Hades waves it with a thank you note and a small smile.

@▪ hades It’s not until the next morning that it dawns on Adonis. He’s slow to wake up, carefully shifting on the bed while he tries to analyze just how bad of a hangover he’s got to deal with, face pressing into the silky soft pillow, grunting into the fabric. He’d left the party not long after having stepped back inside, where Hojin had found him with an odd expression donning his features and a strong scent of alcohol on his breath, the man had ushered him out of there and made sure that he was collapsing into bed before having left him to fend for himself. Now Adonis feels like , and it takes another couple of minutes of cursing into the pillow before the memories of last night slowly start to surface. It’s nothing bad, he’s not made a fool of himself or anything like that, nor had he jumped into bed with some fellow from the entertainment industry, but he’d encountered Park Chanyeol, Hades, and it had been really really weird.

Hades didn’t like him. It had been written all over his face whenever he cornered Adonis, had been evident in the harsh tone wrapping up his words as he told the younger off for being a ‘bad god’ and later when he informed Adonis that it was better if he didn’t have his memories. Thinking back at it now, with less alcohol clouding his mind and left feeling vaguely irritable it kind of irks him how he’d being treated like a child for no reason. That’s when it hits him, that perhaps Hades did have his reasons. Perhaps Adonis had done something bad that had made the god hate his guts, he wouldn’t know, he couldn’t remember. He’d tried before, and it wasn’t something that he could just will back. It’s confusing to be yourself when you don’t know what it means. But he’s an actor now, pretending came easier.

He’s not quite able to imagine exactly what he could have possibly done wrong, but then again Adonis had no idea of what kind of person he’d been before, he could have been awful and Adonis himself would never know.

It’s some days later that Adonis climbs into the car that Hojin arranged to take him to the location of the photoshoot, painfully aware of what shoot it is and with whom. Only this time he’s not seven glasses of champagne down and a stumbling mess. Instead he’s newly showered and smells vaguely of safflower and anise, a faint hint of laundry detergent still lingering on his clothes, only having consumed a cup of coffee and a bottle of water so far. Dressed comfortably in a pair of black adidas sweats and a sweatshirt that’s a technically one size or two too big on his form, the collar of a white t-shirt peeking through. Feeling a lot more comfortable in his slippers from new balance than in the expensive outfit he’d been donning at the event.

He’s greeted by Hojin who guides him through the building towards the dressing room, informing him of the idea and concept behind the shoot. Supposedly there would a set of them taken inside in a studio atmosphere before they would move outside. They would start with solo shots before teaming up in front of the camera. Adonis tries to not show how displeased he is about this particular job, he’s a great actor with many awards in the bag and so Hojin never notices. Adonis, Oh Sehun, greets the stylist and dutifully listens while she explains and shows him the designated outfits displayed on one of the racks, he then sinks down before the large mirror and greets the makeup artist as well, shutting his eyes while she gets to work.

@▫ adonis It is like two middle fingers; both are directed towards the sky. It is for taking away the life that Adonis, the young boy could have experienced. The other is a middle finger towards a jealous lover who knows no boundary and understands love the way Hades follows it. What part of it has been lost in translation? Why do people burst into a rage when their love slowly slips out from their grasp? If it has been true love, shouldn't they do the same as what Hades is doing right now? Letting go? Even though he has been too close for comfort; it should be the last time he shows that side to Adonis. No longer would he get too close. He doesn't want the other's memories to jog. Hades isn't sure what Adonis still remembers, but he doesn't want Adonis to remember him. Perhaps, it is the guilt for not being able to be there for someone he took care for such a long time. All this power yet he feels so powerless. The sin that couldn't go away even at the sight of Adonis in his peripheral. He wonders how much longer he would feel such a human emotion. Hades has countless times, taken the souls of loved ones — why now would he feel such regret?

Perhaps, it is the memories of the passing. Maybe, it's the occasional thoughts of not being able to welcome the loved one again in the same manner. At this point, they are no one to each other, but Hades shall carry this sin for eternity. It is no longer Adonis who is being punished; it is him, and he'll take the punishment as long as the boy he saw as a brother can live his life diligently from now on.

Tears garner in the pool of his eyes, and it takes every little strength that he has not to let the dam broke. The balloons on the ceiling explode one by one, and there is a torrential downpour of ribbons and glitter. He searches through the crowds for his manager; only wants to head back home now. Exhaustion settles in, and for the first time, he wants the bed to welcome him. He spots the older man, and his manager quickly guides him to the exit. When he looks back, he sees not Adonis but the crowds of partygoers enjoying their time. He wonders if this is the goodbye that he needs.

He has never been given proper time to mourn. Hades had seen the lifeless body, white cloth blooming in red. It hadn't been a day, and Adonis has been resurrected. For a lot of people, they believe that it is good that the boy is alive once more, but it is not for Hades. As much as he wants to say he is glad, Adonis is no longer the boy he carried on his back to lull him to sleep. This young man is no longer the boy who sneaked into his office, searching for candies. Everything has changed, and perhaps, finally, it is time for Hades to stop mourning for his loss. It has been years, and he is getting tired of hiding. This party almost seems like the ending that he can’t escape. Adonis is dead, and this guy in front of him is just another boy with a familiar face. He could never see Adonis again. Leaving this hall means, Hades will be leaving a part of him that remembers Adonis, and tomorrow shall be another day.

@▪ hades How someone could have the decency to sit with the belief that one's past didn’t hold any importance, Adonis didn’t know. Just like there was still so many things about being a God that he had yet to discover and figure out. But what is a man without his memories? Adonis wanted to remember anything else that wasn’t his own death running through his mind on a constant repeat, that couldn’t have been everything that had been to his mortal life. Was it really fair of Hades to keep those things from him, couldn’t he at least have this? Adonis died too young, like the story that had just begun but death came and tore all the pages away and he only got to read how it ended.

“I kinda— Well I kinda feel like it holds some kind of importance, though.” It could have been a clean slate, and an opportunity for Adonis to become the man that he always wanted to be. It’s not quite what he’s been searching for though.

‘Especially for you’. Adonis quirks an eyebrow towards the other male, pulling a face that reads of both confusion and disbelief when the man seems keen on leaving. He doesn’t know which one of the many emotions that explodes in his chest that he should put focus on first. Anger or confusion, but it’s the frustration about the other’s odd demeanor that hits the hardest. He doesn’t quite remember the Hades that rules the underworld, couldn’t quite pinpoint where the man before him was different, just that something was off about the other. Undoubtedly so when he pins the marvelous creation of a red-gold rose onto the fabric covering his chest, Adonis blinking dumbly up at him in the wake of the words that follows. “I— uh, thank you?” For someone that gets complimented on the daily, he still doesn’t expect the words to come from Hades of all people.

Standing rooted to his spot while the other leaves and heads back inside, asking him to not drink more, and Adonis wonders why he feels like such a child in the other’s presence. He sighs, shoulders slumping a little as he pushes a hand through his hair. Letting the fresh air fill his lungs up one last time before he too slips through the the glass doors, stepping back inside where he lets his gaze sweep over the occupants of the hall and the party that is in full bloom, undoubtedly searching for his manager when he wants to head back to his hotel. Hojin is nowhere in sight and Sehun just kind of stands there, staring at the celebration unfolding before him and not feeling like he wants to partake in any of it.

@▫ adonis Some might think that Hades is the scariest, daunting god there is amongst the rest. He is the keeper of souls, keeper of the keys of hell and the one that keeps the fire of punishment lit. But there is always a contradiction to one’s character — one never sees someone for who they really are. Minds are fickle, and it is a shame that everyone is forever short-sighted. Thanatos has always warned him, that a god of his calibre shouldn’t be showing a drop of kindness. Especially towards the mortal; the man himself has the worst span of kindness even towards his kind. “Oh, not Zeus, Hades, he is a mortal’s child. He will be dead before you know it so, stop buying him gifts,” Thanatos whined once, noticing the box of cookies in Hades’ office. He had come for a visit, but he quickly left when Hades didn’t allow him some of the cookies.

Those were for Adonis, the boy seemingly having a hard time to digest any food down in the Underworld. Persephone had tried her best cooking, but the lady of the place wasn’t the best when it came to such an activity. Hades remembers his first visit to the mortal realm, and the purpose of it was supposed to find food and toys for the boy. Hades had felt bad that the condition of his realm wasn’t the best for the growing boy that he wanted to do something for him. Mortals were, and still, are tricky beings. When Hades looks back, he has been fooled, paying more of the amount that he was supposed to for the toys and snacks. But when he is reminded of the beam on the boy’s face, it was worth it.

Memories flood in, and he doesn’t even realise that the boy is now standing right in front of him. Hades dries his tear in a flash of light.

“It’s a shame, but maybe you shouldn’t remember anything,” Hades says, looking straight at the other before he straightens his tie, fixing it quickly. “I don’t believe that the past is important, especially for you.” He continues, setting his hair quickly, turning his head to the glass door. His chest puffs as Hades sets the coat he is wearing, and he is back to being Park Chanyeol.

He glances over at the set of pins pinned to the pocket. Taking one, he turns to the god, putting the red-gold rose designed pin down on him. “Just think of this as a sign of friendship between Park Chanyeol and Oh Sehun. You are — well, you look great in red.” He says, leaning away before heading back into the ballroom, turning to the other for a short second. “Don’t drink anymore for the night.”

@▪ hades It’s the alcohol; Adonis doesn’t know what else to blame than the seven glasses of bubbly liquor that he’d managed to down throughout the night for the disorientated state that he’s currently found himself in. Alcohol coursing through his veins and warming his body up from the inside. After ridding himself of the tailored suit jacket, letting it rest folded over his forearm, and ing the first two buttons in his shirt he feels like it becomes a little easier to inhale the crisp air into his lungs. It could have done a good job of calming him down and erase the feeling of growing discomfort building from deep in his gut, until he catches the sight of a figure behind him out of the corners of his eyes, sending a chill through his body when he slowly turns around to face them.

There, standing just outside of the wide glass doors stands Hades— or Park Chanyeol. All tall and and with an aura that demands respect even now, only there’s something so undeniably off with the picture before him. Adonis straightens a bit, shoulders squaring as he squints towards the male stood some metre away, trying to point out where the picture fails him. It’s the eyes, it doesn’t take him very long to realise; Hades’ eyes are brimming with unshed tears. The conclusion renders him speechless, wondering if his eyes are failing him now as well. “Had—” He starts before his lips and briefly glances around them, even if the balcony screams empty except the two of them, but he clears his throat and tries again nonetheless, not keen on receiving yet another earful from the other. “Chanyeol, why are you standing there?”

There could be a hint of hesitation found in his steps when he walks over, covering the grounds between them, stopping in front of the other male, only missing a few centimeters on the other god. “Are those tears in your eyes?” It is, he could see it clearly now. Adonis knows that he’s missing out on something important, and it makes his heart clench. Silence fills the space between them and the minutes drags on, the younger staring into those dark embers as if the answer to all of his questions would be hidden inside them. “I think— there’s something that I’m missing.. I remember you, but I don’t remember.” The words leaves his lips at last, he wants the other to fill in the blanks, because without the memories something is gaping awfully empty inside of him.

@▫ adonis Adonis was such a small boy compared to the build that he has now, but Hades remembers the first time they met like it is as bright as the sky in summer, little clouds to none and blue sea hanging above their heads. They had a stare-off contest, Hades right at his bookshelf, holding a book, and Adonis staring back at him. He raised his brow, and the boy copied. He raised the other eyebrow, and the boy did the same. At that point on, Hades didn't know how to react, so he waved. And as he had expected, he received the same reaction. "Who might you be, boy?" He asked, sliding the book right into the empty slot before walking over to the door, towering over the boy. Persephone did mention 'a human child,' 'arriving,' and 'treat him like your son, okay?'

Was he expecting a boy? No, but since Persephone told him to, Hades offered his hand to the boy, taking it in his and helped him inside. He didn't close the door, not wanting to scare the child. Let there be a little bit of light, and surely the boy would feel okay to be with him. "Sit." He ordered as he brought the little one to the couch. He was lowering down, trying to match his sight with the other, hands both on his knees. "Do you want some sweets?

Who would ever think that such a small, insignificant meeting would be something that Hades holds dearly to his heart? He stands right behind the male that was leaning against the balcony, grown out of his pajama and small shoes. Adonis has become something more than that, and he was no longer a man. He is a God, but does he want any of this? And what could Hades have done for him when Ares was targeting him.

He let the boy who looked up to him down, and as the person that Adonis would call brother, Hades fails him. And not in a million years would there ever be a single drop of a tear running down Hades' cheek, but here he is, tearing at the sight of a breathing Adonis, the brother he has forsaken and let others used as a toy.

@▪ hades The young God is painfully aware of the fact that more than a handful of his memories were lost when he was granted rebirth by Zeus, because what little he does remember are just small bits and pieces; brief flashback that sometimes clouded his mind until his eyesight would start blur and he had to press the balls of his palms hard against his eyes in order to will them away.

Most memories revolves around the two goddesses, of course, and the constant push and pull between Olympus and the underworld. How those things shaped Adonis into an enigma of beauty, jealousy, lust and the constant struggle between love and death. He’d been nothing more than a mortal, unable to please everyone even when it seemed to have been the sole purpose of his existence. But he remembers dying. That memory would never fade, it’s the little details that clutches onto his mind until he wants to scream. Everything about dying had stuck. The metallic smell of his own blood when he bled out, fingers pressing against the wound while he desperately tried to prevent it from happening, the liquid warm at first before slowly turning cold while it seeped through the tips of his fingers. The look of grief in Aphrodite’s warm eyes when he stared up into them for the last time, words caught in his throat where he wanted to plead for his life. He remembers thinking, if only for a split second, that it was her fault.

Of course he also remembers the pain, ribs snapping like twigs, when every passing minute was just that; pain. Every little movement sent screaming agonies dancing across his vulnerable flesh. He remembers knowing that he was dying and that a part of him, although small, exhaled for a last time and felt relieved. In his dying moment Adonis had accepted death. He never asked to be reborn, never asked for immortality; just like he never asked to spend his mortal life jumping from one embrace to the other. Had he lived the human life that he was supposed to have then he would have been a prince, Adonai meant lord but he never even got to meet his parents. Adonis never wanted to be a God because a part of him had always despised them.

Whatever Hades is meaning to say after that it gets ignored by the young God as he steps aside and quickly maneuvers through the crowd of people with his eyes set on a pair of glass doors leading to a balcony up ahead. Adonis ignores his surroundings as he pushes the doors open and steps outside, inhaling as much fresh air as his lungs could ever make room for. Fingers wrapping around the cold railing as he stares out into the abyss of darkness, chest still squeezing tight. Of course he remembers meeting Hades. He’d been told early not to wander astray in the corridors of the underworld, before he’d learned how to listen. The God of the underworld hadn’t quite been like the others, had he?

As ironic as it may sound, and for reasons that Adonis cannot for the life of him recall, Hades face was a friendly reminder that held onto a collections of moments where he’d felt happy. Where his heart felt lighter and jumped in his chest, when laughter flowed easy from the tip of his tongue and where one face amongst a million had made Adonis feel grounded.

@▫ adonis Fear — absolute horror as he watches the boy in front of him. He couldn't afford to make him go through hell again, no, even his realm is better than what Adonis had to suffer in his past before the rebirth. He is pretty much useless if he was to compare with Ares' powers. Hades is just a simple God, working behind closed doors. He is powerless compared to his brothers, even more so when he compares himself to the God who took Adonis' life away. Seeing Adonis here, being in the mortal realm, lingering around sheep, Hades is afraid that the past will repeat once more. A mistake that he would not be able to afford again, and Hades hammers it into his head every single day he rises from sleep.

No one has been affected with the whole ordeal, not like Hades, of course. With no one to go seeking for help, Hades carries everything on his shoulder, the boulder getting more substantial as the days pass by. The ones you think are less affected are the most hurt. They do not speak of the Adonis' murder. The thoughts and memories are pushed to the back of your head. Even Persephone no longer remembers of such an event, only recalling Adonis for the God that he is now. But they can lie, they can continue to fake it — Gods are so similar to mortals that Hades wonders, are they fit to rule over the humans?

A boy; Adonis was just a boy when he was first brought in, and Hades knows that as the God of the Underworld, there is no such thing as relationships or bond in his dictionary. But he remembers the door to his office creaking open, a small boy clinging to the wood, peeking his head inside, trying to see through the dark.

That has been the first time he saw Adonis. It also seemed like Adonis enjoyed the candies from the jar on his desk.

The hurt that flashes in Adonis' eyes slaps Hades back to reality, and he shivers, stumbling a few steps back. Or is it him this time that is repeating what the Gods had done to the boy. "I— " He starts, but he is too late with his apology because Adonis is excusing himself. But, he can't go, not yet. He's drunk, yes. He needs to settle down somewhere — what if something happens if Hades let Adonis go now? So, he trails after the boy, ignoring the looks that he is starting to receive from the guests. They are only glitz and glamour, and for the first time that night, Hades feels like he doesn't belong anywhere near something that reminds him of Olympus. So, he pulls on his tie, loosening it before he continues to search for the actor amongst the crowd.

@▪ hades “I’m fine, yeah, just fine.” Adonis breathes, tries to ignore it when the temperature within the grand hall raises and brushes up against his cheeks. Either the room is getting warmer in general as more people starts moving about, opting to get frisky on the dancefloor and whatnot, or— the young God is great on his way to getting drunk. Neat fingers settle on the collar of his expensive ivory dress shirt, moving the fabric slightly to fan himself while his eyes roam over the man stood in front of him. It’s really getting kind of stuffy. When Hades wraps his hand around his wrist and tugs him along towards the more secluded parts of the hall Adonis really does try hard to not stumble over his own feet while he trails along behind the man, sending fleeting smiles towards whoever turns their heads in order to watch the two celebrities. Alcohol sure was a ing trip.

They stop once Hades has managed to put a good amount of distance between the two Gods and the mortals. Adonis has to briefly place his hand on the other’s shoulder while he regains his balance, dark eyes snapping towards said male when he starts speaking, or rather scolds him. His voice was always deep but it carries a certain sternness to it now as well, the authority that he’s so well known for noticeable in his stance and Adonis cowers, if just the slightest bit, when he threatens to call upon his brothers.

Truthfully he hadn’t quite realized when he’d stepped onto dangerous territory, just by trying to strike up some conversation with the other and his lips part slightly while he tries to rack his brain for a response to Hades’ accusations. It’s not that he’s not thankful for having been blessed with this second shot at life, and with immortality at that, there’s just still so much that he needs to adjust to. Humanity stubbornly clinging onto what’s left of his already tainted soul. It’s proven hard to focus though, with the taller male trapping him against the wall, towering above him and his eyes dart around them, chest squeezing uncomfortably as he tries to take a step backwards and away from the other. “Don’t—” he starts, placing a hand on the older God’s broad chest, lightly pushing him away, trying to create some distance between the two of them. “You’re too close, what are they going to think. Are you trying to taint both our reputation or what?” Adonis bites back, quickly dropping his hand and locks eyes with the taller once again, tries cover up for the fact that his heartbeat is positively speeding up in his chest.

“I’m sorry, alright, I was just trying to— well strike up a conversation, I guess. I shouldn’t have bothered you, again. I wasn’t thinking—” Adonis pauses, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip as he averts his gaze just to the side of Hades’ face, frown forming on his forehead. “I didn’t mean to bring shame to myself or the other God’s of Olympus, I’m sorry.” He continues, head bowed as the apology leaves his lips. The air is still too stuffy, and Adonis raises his head, eyes slightly glazed over when looking around them for a balcony or anything of the sorts. “I need to head outside for a bit, or something, if you’ll excuse me—”

@▫ adonis The world truly has abandoned him; he thinks to himself. Sure, he shouldn't be affected by any of this, especially when he has promised to himself that he'll not allow anything to come upon Adonis anymore. He has suffered enough and — and as someone who cares, even just a little, he wants the boy to be free of anything. Being forgotten is never fun, even more, when Hades is now being pushed into doing a spread with the other. What else would they talk about during break time? What kind of emotion would he convey through the pictures? Agony? Misery? Sadness? Anger? Those encompass him as his whole real being, Hades, the God of the Underworld. It seems like Adonis could bring out that side of him — not the powerful one, but the weak one. The one side which is so similar to a human's fault.

Quietly, Hades notices the slur in the other's speech, a brow raised and settles there for a few seconds as he crooks a questioning gaze. "Are you alright?" He asks before he turns to his manager, Mr Hong and politely asks for the older man to bring a bottle of water. But he stops dead in his track; Mr Hong is no longer there, thankfully, when Adonis starts to spout nonsense about the Olympus. He doesn't need the mortal to know anything about the other realm, but he is sure none of them would believe and ponder. But — there is still a possibility that some of them are not as dimwitted as they try to look. "We've only met, Mr Oh. You must be good at jokes." He speaks, turning his head to the direction of the banquet. Grabbing Adonis' hand, he drags the smaller god to a quiet corner. "Have you not think of the consequences if anything was to be known by the mortals? Or are you no longer scared of heaven's punishment because you turned into a God?"

"Secrecy is essential, most of all when you're in the mortal's realm. Or would you like me to call upon Zeus or Poseidon? That the God belonging to their sides of the realm is acting like an immature child because of a few drinks." His voice stern, rough around the edges and Hades makes sure to trap the boy in that corner, not letting Adonis go before receiving an earful. Making use of his taller stature, he hovers over the boy, eyes no longer filled with fear and anxiety. Now, he's just too worried that Adonis would pull someone's leg and break the oath that he had taken to become a God. "Stick to what you had promised when Zeus gave you a rebirth."