fic!
OKAY. GUESS WHAT. APOLLO-MUN BUNNIED ME. Who in turn was apparently bunnied by me. Ehehe.
"You were so rude," Hyacinth said, as he stretched, in anticipation of a race to be held later in the morning. "It's not like you."
Zephyrus looked up at the boy from the bow he was stringing, anger plain on his usually handsome features. Hyacinth was defending Apollo already, even before knowing his name! It irked the West Wind to no end.
"I do not like him," he said shortly, returning his gaze but not his attention back to the bow. "He was arrogant and he threw all of you to the ground like little puppets he could control." It was an excuse without any sort of logic or substance to it, and Hyacinth's laughter only proved it.
"I don't believe you!" he snorted, as he sank to the ground and reached for his toes. "This, coming from the person who's beaten me more than his fair share of times in the ring?"
"He took my place at the dinner table," Zephyrus countered, feeling more and more childish by the minute but not knowing how else to voice out his raging emotion without yelling at Hyacinth, telling the boy that he was foolish and that it was no stranger who had 'chanced' upon the princes and their companions.
The prince's laughter only continued as he looked up at the god with dancing eyes. "Why, are you jealous, Zephyrus?" he teased. "Come now, that was only for one night, and besides, the stranger was the victor. I could hardly seat him among the others."
"He could have sat with your brother, since Cynortas is older," Zephyrus pointed out. His heart sank as he observed a slight blush spread across Hyacinth's nose and cheeks. He gave up all pretense of distraction and turned to face the prince. "Do you even realize that all you've spoken of ever since then is that stranger?"
"You have to admit, he is quite the enigma," Hyacinth retorted, confused and growing suspicious of the West Wind's growing temper. "We do not even know his name."
Oh, I do, Zephyrus thought bitterly, but he did not dare give voice to the thought. Instead, he rose to his feet and took Hyacinth's hands in his, eyes pleading and tender as he confessed in a pained voice, "I love you, Hyacinth."
For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a stricken look hover on the prince's face, but it smoothed out too quickly.
"Don't worry about me. I love you as well," Hyacinth said, as he withdrew his hands and smiled a smile that did not quite reach his worried eyes. "Brother."
Zephyrus felt as if he'd been turned to stone.
"You were so rude," Hyacinth said, as he stretched, in anticipation of a race to be held later in the morning. "It's not like you."
Zephyrus looked up at the boy from the bow he was stringing, anger plain on his usually handsome features. Hyacinth was defending Apollo already, even before knowing his name! It irked the West Wind to no end.
"I do not like him," he said shortly, returning his gaze but not his attention back to the bow. "He was arrogant and he threw all of you to the ground like little puppets he could control." It was an excuse without any sort of logic or substance to it, and Hyacinth's laughter only proved it.
"I don't believe you!" he snorted, as he sank to the ground and reached for his toes. "This, coming from the person who's beaten me more than his fair share of times in the ring?"
"He took my place at the dinner table," Zephyrus countered, feeling more and more childish by the minute but not knowing how else to voice out his raging emotion without yelling at Hyacinth, telling the boy that he was foolish and that it was no stranger who had 'chanced' upon the princes and their companions.
The prince's laughter only continued as he looked up at the god with dancing eyes. "Why, are you jealous, Zephyrus?" he teased. "Come now, that was only for one night, and besides, the stranger was the victor. I could hardly seat him among the others."
"He could have sat with your brother, since Cynortas is older," Zephyrus pointed out. His heart sank as he observed a slight blush spread across Hyacinth's nose and cheeks. He gave up all pretense of distraction and turned to face the prince. "Do you even realize that all you've spoken of ever since then is that stranger?"
"You have to admit, he is quite the enigma," Hyacinth retorted, confused and growing suspicious of the West Wind's growing temper. "We do not even know his name."
Oh, I do, Zephyrus thought bitterly, but he did not dare give voice to the thought. Instead, he rose to his feet and took Hyacinth's hands in his, eyes pleading and tender as he confessed in a pained voice, "I love you, Hyacinth."
For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a stricken look hover on the prince's face, but it smoothed out too quickly.
"Don't worry about me. I love you as well," Hyacinth said, as he withdrew his hands and smiled a smile that did not quite reach his worried eyes. "Brother."
Zephyrus felt as if he'd been turned to stone.