The Tang of Pomegranates
Pairing: sexing, minor layhan
Rated: PG
Genre: greekmyth!au with biblical hints
Length: 900 words
Summary: In which Sehun, the ruler of the Underworld, sets up a Venus fly trap for Yixing, who smells dangerously of flowers.
Opposites don't attract; they cling. They latch onto each other and leech the moments, the energy, the life until nothing is left but bone-dry fossils entangled into one carcass. This is the song of opposites, the melody treading major and minor, accidentals sprinkled throughout the refrain, and a secret coda that only they know. This is the song of Yixing and Sehun, the harbingers of creation and destruction.
But here in Eden, where sinners are not welcomed, only the twittering birds and the bristling leaves underfoot may be heard. Humming, a delicate caress of sound, wraps around the air, squeezing the oxygen from mortal lungs. This is Persephone's song.
Yixing plucks a petal from a nearby flowering tree, still humming under his breath. Eden's ancient magic wraps around his hand and coaxes the petal to take what it deserves. His eyes light up as the petal vibrates violently and then bursts into bouquets and bouquets of flowers.
Sehun drinks in the show, a welcome ambrosia after a millennium of thirst, with huge gulps. When he claps, piercing the rhythm of Persephone's song, Yixing breaks out of his trance and spots the trespasser walking out from behind a curtain of vines. The golden ring of immortality lines this man's irises. He must be a guest of Demeter's, Yixing deduces.
Yixing pulls magic out of the air, twinkling threads braiding and weaving into a daisy, and when the magic settles, Yixing holds out his creation, his lips tugging at the corners. The daisy sings a siren's song; it paints watercolors of days bathed in the sun's warmth and nights of languid kisses silhouetted by the moonlight. Temptation hides its thorns, but they reveal themselves through the thin stream of blood running down Yixing's pale arm. Still, Sehun reaches out to him, hesitating slightly, before he takes the gift with his thumb and forefinger, promising to treasure it for all eternity.
But upon contact, the daisy wilts.
Yixing gasps. Fragrant rose petals spill from his lips, and they curl in on themselves, drying into potpourri. Because when Yixing perfumes the air, Sehun poisons it.
"Sinners are not welcomed in Eden," Yixing says, his voice quivering with recognition.
Sehun smiles knowingly, because he has witnessed the oceans churning and brimming with life, the acquisition of soils and what shimmers beneath them, the continents fragmenting and racing across time and space, the parting of the Red Sea and of virgin lips, the rise of arts and sciences and mathematics and enlightenment, and the ruin of it all. He sees; he knows.
"Death is not a sin. It is a birthright," Sehun says.
Eyes transfixed on the pathetic, withered flower, Yixing dares to ask, "But why is Hades in Eden?"
There is an unspoken "Why did you leave Hell?" hiding in between the syllables. Hades has a kingdom to rule, and his talons do not reach the purity that is Eden. Here, he leaves his crown of thorns at the foot of the sacred olive tree. Here, he relinquishes his power.
Sehun holds out his hand, long fingers outstretched, eager to grasp temptation, to puncture his pale skin with its thorns. Sometimes the tang of blood reminds him of pomegranates.
"You've never left Eden before, have you?" Sehun says.
"Demeter wants to protect me," Yixing answers; the phrase rolls off of his tongue.
A laugh escapes Sehun's lips. "I know Lu Han. We are brothers born from the Tree of Life; we are sons of Mother Gaia. He has always been like this, from the moment he designated his side of the womb. Lu Han isn't protecting you. He's hiding you because he is selfish, and in doing so he is robbing you. If you come with me, I will free you from this prison. I will show you how sweet sin tastes."
The ichor boils through Yixing's veins, pounding through his ears, and Persephone's song escapes him when he takes Sehun's hand, cold yet invigorating. They leave behind Eden, the lush trees dripping with fruits and flowers, the soaring cricket symphonies, and the sweet scent of confinement. Sehun picks up his crown of thorns on the way out and places it on Yixing's head.
In the underworld, the sun and the moon have abandoned them, and darkness seeps into the cracks of weak minds. Sehun assures Yixing that the whispering voices mean no harm, that they will stop prodding through his thoughts if he eats the food of the underworld. They want him to succumb to them, to their ancient ways, to the darkness that consumes more and more of the remnants of Eden's purity.
Sehun takes a pomegranate, plump and red, and splits it open, seeds overflowing and spilling out. He licks his lips.
"If you eat this, you will no longer belong to Demeter," Sehun says.
"Will I belong to you?" Yixing asks.
"No," Sehun shakes his head. "You will belong to yourself."
Curious, Yixing takes the forbidden fruit and consumes six seeds that have the sweetness of sin and the tang of blood. Just like Sehun promised, the whispering voices surrender themselves to silence, and a padlock inside of Yixing dissolves. The foreign feeling arrests him, and when he closes his eyes, he sees the bright colors of euphoria in an Aurora Borealis. They cloak him in ecstasy.
A knowing smile on his face, Sehun takes Yixing's chin and tilts it upward. For the first time, Yixing tastes free will.
A/N: I tried to write sexing. Tried. Just like I tried to be productive tonight orz.