Archive of Our Own

Looking at the magnificent hall, with an abundance of sashes and banners strewn artistically across the ceiling in colors of rich cream and warm cocoa, Taeyong feels his pride swell to a concerning size. A little more and it’ll be one boastful supernova. His lush flower arrangements release poetic blends of varying scents, and it’s just shy of pungent. The aroma is dense, wafting in the air and clinging to fabric. There are jasmines, tuberose and peonies on one side, and gardenia, orange blossoms and Chinese honeysuckles on the other.

The clean marble floors are polished and shined to perfection, and the click of his heels against the cold surface is calming. The quartz columns are spotless, the bannisters and doorknobs reflect adequate light to be their own light sources, and the chandeliers are dimmed just enough to be relaxing and not glaring. In fact, they flatter the artworks he had purchased for the event. It’s above room temperature, because Taeyong really did prefer the heat, but many of his peers would disagree. It’s a good thing Taeyong is a thoughtful man.

He asks Mercury, Venus, and Mars to handle the guests while he checks the kitchen and the silverware. Afterwards, he greets all seven of the Ursa Major asterism stars, donned in their own deep purple and gold getups, and gets a kiss to the cheek from Alkaid, then a subsequent glare from him for not calling him by his Temporal name (Jimin). He says his hellos to the four Pegasus stars, each lady getting prettier every millennium, and Chaeyoung makes it a point to ask him for flower arrangement ideas for her own future mansion. Taeyong is only slightly surprised.

Taeyong, perhaps, is the most different when he shifts to Temporal form. In the sky, he glows ethereally and washes humans over with heat, nourishing crops all over. He looks over his humans tenderly, letting them bask in the heat and enjoy the products of his generosity. When he’s mobile and able to communicate, even if he still carries the same royalty and reliability, he’s nervous and giggly and has the tendency to buzz around the room. He isn’t as sun-kissed as one would expect the literal Sun to be, and even Mercury seems to be more tan than him, but the similarities with his Celestial form lie in his duties and traits.

He’s donned in a white military-type suit, with subtle golden epaulettes balanced delicately on his shoulders, and a golden sash across his body. Even in such a stuffy outfit, the clean cut of his suit accentuates his slimness, pleasing to the eye and alluring. From across the room, his large eyes twinkle and shimmer, looking every part of the personified celestial being he is. They’re otherworldly. 

“Yeah, so I told Yuta to not get pissy about it! Donghyuck was just kidding about Yuta’s Celestial name, but there was a tussle, and all.” Neptune says, recalling earlier events in the restroom. Taeil would never admit it, but he secretly thrives on drama and everything accompanying it. Taeyong doesn’t blame him, being an Ice Giant and being on the farthest end of the solar system must get lonely sometimes. One would expect to cultivate some sort of perverse interest in gossip, if the crazy glint in his eyes is anything to go by.

Ah. The buzz of conversation, meeting his dearest friends again and making new ones, the food and drink choices, selecting the fragrances, the set-ups. Taeyong loved the organizational part of planning the Banquet, but nothing could beat the random pulses of laughter around the room as Beings of every kind fraternized and met familiar faces. The lighting was perfect, the predetermined catering is sufficient for today’s head count, and people were greeting him left and right. 

“And—” Venus, or Jungwoo, is about to add to the oh-so interesting story of Donghyuck making lethal Uranus jokes in Yuta’s presence, but his eyes widen as he looks at something behind Taeyong. “Oh. Look who just walked in.” 

Taeyong turns around, eyes searching and scanning the colossal expanse of the hall. And there's Moon, striding inside the large halls and emanating another kind of glow. He’s tall, silent, and domineering, with watchful, attentive eyes and a piercing gaze. Moon’s jet black hair perfectly contrasts with his luminous, pale complexion, and it’s perfectly slicked back with a single strand out. Taeyong rolls his eyes. His cheekbones have gotten even gaunter since the last Banquet, eyebrows straighter, eyes exponentially stormier — a bitter, glinting black. 

He’s as regal as he is when he’s out of his Temporal form. 

Taeyong watches as he offers a lopsided, dimpled smile to a group of tittering Meteorites, bowing his broad torso down slightly. Gods, his teeth are practically made of moonstone with the way they catch the light. 

He makes numerous stops around the grand hall, greeting fellow Moons and shaking hands with other Stars, and surprisingly stops for more than a minute to catch up with his ragtag group of friends, comprised of Lyra’s Vega, who liked to go by Eunwoo, Ursa Major’s asterism star Alioth who fought another star for the name Jeongguk, Atlas and Pleione from the Messier 45 as Yugyeom and Bambam respectively when off-duty, and Revati, Torcular, and Citadelle, or Mingyu, Minghao, and Dokyeom, from Pisces.

Taeyong takes a moment to look at what he’s wearing. Moon has always had the aura that both daunted and attracted, and the suit he’s wearing completely monopolizes off of that and amplifies it. His suit is alarmingly similar to his — no, scratch that. It’s exactly like Taeyong’s, except it’s midnight black instead of Taeyong’s crisp white, and uses a reflective silver for the epaulettes and the sash. The way the black fabric was tailored and cut seemed to have even cleaner lines than Taeyong’s. His lips thin into a sour line.

He narrows his eyes, until it occurs to Taeyong that Jaehyun might still be going to Jeonghan, one of Taeyong’s fellow Stars, who has a knack for fashion design when he isn’t busy shooting across the galaxy. He probably did it on purpose, the little asshole. 

Saturn tugs him away, and he’s talking pretty quickly, so Taeyong inwardly suspects he’s trying to distract him. Not that he minds. He’s relaying some (probably) half-assed story about Jongdae and a mystery girl, but Taeyong isn’t really listening. He can see Jaehyun heading straight for the bar, and he scowls. The stupid uncultured imbicele didn’t even take the time to appreciate Taeyong’s gorgeous flower arrangements, for their Banquet, which were literally the first things one saw upon entering. How could you ignore baby pink roses and baby’s breaths so artistically scattered, at precisely 2.8-inch intervals each? The hydrangeas?

It was one thing to not contribute when it came to an event they started together , but to forgo any appreciation for the other’s efforts? What a douche , Taeyong thinks, but it’s for the best, probably. I don’t need his grubby hands pawing all over my perfect designs. There must be some limit to being a dick if he didn’t break it yet. Taeyong is understating Moon’s douchebag behavior to a degree that has previously been done in the history of understatement . 

Taeyong feels his hackles start to rise; Doyoung lets out an uneasy laugh at Taeyong’s sour mood, and nudges him slightly. “Oh, hey, shouldn’t you be making your speech right about now? Now that, he’s here, and all..” he says, as casually as he can possibly muster. 

Oh, hell. Taeyong measures his time in years (because one year means one revolution of the Earth around the Sun) and doesn’t have the energy to learn humans’ tiny time, so he takes Doyoung’s word for it. He always tries to do the opening remarks within the first hour so as not to fuck up the whole stream of the event. He grumbles when he turns and sees Jaehyun taking his own large, purely confident strides with his mile long legs up the stairs to the podium. Damn it. He downs his whole glass of white wine, then asks for another serving, because he’s going to fucking need it. 

All that human bullshit about the sun and the moon being forbidden lovers? Not true in the slightest. Jaehyun and Taeyong took shifts and were to be separated at all costs, or else it’d be mass extinction of animals on Monday, wildfires on Tuesday, typhoons on Wednesday, and if he’s feeling generous, then volcanic eruptions on Thursday. Don’t even get him started on Friday. 

“Jaehyun.” 

“Taeyong.”

Taeyong stands up straighter, not keen on the idea of looking any less imposing than Jaehyun. He’s the Sun, for Christ’s sake. He’s literally the center of the universe, thank you very much, and he’ll be damned if some dumb, cocky ex-boyfriend outshone him. 

“How is every little thing?” Taeyong asks, albeit a bit stiffly, head held straight and high. He flicks a non-existent flint off his sleeve and checks his nails, ever the neat freak. Or a poor attempter of nonchalance, whichever suits one’s fancy. It’s a far cry from how he was so buddy-buddy with Mars, loose-limbed and bubbly, and that irritates Jaehyun to no end. That damn Mars. Jaehyun loves Johnny like a brother, always joked about the fact he was so tiny in Celestial form, and placated him when he got too angry for his own good. But sometimes he had the overwhelming urge to obliterate Johnny until he was truly a tiny speck of red dust. For no particular reason.

He can see all the other Stars and Planets mingling on the main floor, and some scattered on the balconies of the second floor, overlooking everybody else. Holding the Banquet every millennium or so meant that the two of them (because, of course, it was their idea to have a gathering every once in a while) had to stand up on the damn podium together and introduce any little stellar nebulae, white dwarves, and even the occasional supergiants and black holes.

“Good. You?”

“Kosher,” Taeyong says, quickly, like he’s impatient, then he chances another look at Jaehyun. There’s a startlingly large hickey on his pale neck, just barely covered by the collar of his suit. His upper lip curls in disdain, “You might want to cover that hickey up. It’s unprofessional.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, yes it is. Very much so.”

“Well, I have my fair share of wild nights.”

“With who?”

“Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t. It’s like an atom to me. No, wait, it’s like a quark. A miniscule little quark, yeah.”

“Hm.” Jaehyun hums, and by his tone, he’s clearly unconvinced. Again, Taeyong doesn’t care. “Gliese.”

Taeyong keeps quiet. He looks at Rigel, Betelgeuse, and Saiph, who normally prefer to go by Jongin, Chanyeol, and Sehun respectively, squabbling by the Caviar station, while Bellatrix tries to filch the last Caviar cake behind their backs. His name is Baekhyun, and despite the fact he’s one of the larger stars, he’s pretty short in Temporal form. Taeyong feels his pain — he’s exponentially larger than everybody in his solar system, yet his size does not carry when he shifts. 

Jaehyun’s silence is so annoying. Taeyong feels his temper rise incrementally, and he wants to say something, and he knows he shouldn’t, but it comes tumbling out of his mouth and he sounds less composed than he knows he should be. He sounds petty, childish, and petulant, but: “You know she’s literally uninhabitable, right?”

“So are you.”

“But at least I nourish the humans. I don’t know what she does.” he says, and tries to hide his champagne glass, which is dangerously close to melting. He hopes Jaehyun can’t hear the 1811 Chateau d’Yquem bubbling and boiling, or Taeyong will fling himself out of the room and inhabit another solar system. He swears he really will.

“She does enough,” Jaehyun says, mildly, and takes a sip of champagne. Humans, for all their hubris and immaturity and focus on unnecessary, trivial matters, knew how to live good lives on Earth. This champagne was proof of that, it was simply exquisite . Still, Jaehyun isn’t very thrilled about the fact that he has to look over them and receive their prayers. They’re all little pieces of shit, even if Taeyong absolutely adores them and treats them like his seven billion, sweetheart, can-do-no-wrong guinea pigs. “We both agree that humans are pretty disgusting, so..”

“Yeah, well, you’re being a bad example for all the little nebulae. So .”

Jaehyun barely muffles his snort. “Yeah. Right .”

“You and that disgustingly large hickey might encourage them to do other things other than focusing on nuclear fusion, when that’s all they should be thinking about. They need to become stars, and to do that, they need to.. Just— It’s— It’s gross. Cover it up.”

“I’m afraid that requires too much work in too little time. Apologies.”

“Hardy har har. Funny, now do it.”

“It’s a Sisphyean task.”

“Oh, congratulations, you know how to say a polysyllabic word after all, you great big dunce.”

“I’ve got another great big thing right here, you just need to unzip my trousers.”

Taeyong’s white wine has fucking evaporated. Jaehyun shifts to move forward, shadowy, ink black eyes locked onto him, and Taeyong snaps to action as if he’s been burned. “Right!” he says, a bit too loud into the mic. He sees Junmyeon spill a drink all over his suit at the volume, and Wendy looks more than a little frightened. The feedback whines unattractively, and Taeyong sounds more like a sergeant at an army boot camp rather than a charismatic, luxurious banquet host.

“Okay, well, thanks everybody for joining us. The main course hasn’t been served yet, but the rate at which the appetizer tables are being emptied is… alarming, especially because we don’t actually have to eat.”

Laughs fill the hall and he can see Kun, who had practically inhaled four plates of foie gras, hide his face in shame. The turnout was really good this millennium, Taeyong has to admit — if he hadn’t rented out such a large mansion for the occasion, then individuals would be spilling out and taking seats on the windowsills.

“Just a quick brief on the menu and a few announcements, is all.”

Taeyong looks at Jaehyun, and there’s seconds-long eye contact between them. There’s some extreme attempts at eye conversation from Taeyong, eyes widening and narrowing sporadically, and at one point, his brows start to waggle like little inchworms. Jaehyun just stares at him. Taeyong glares, clenches his jaw, shuts his eyes, and says in a deadpan, “Please.”

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? Seems like you nearly forgot your manners, baby.” Jaehyun coos. 

He whips his head around to face the general audience before Taeyong can wrap his hands around his throat to asphyxiate him, and flashes an award-winning, panty-dropping smile. God damn bastard. “I’d like to take a moment to welcome the new Bodies before he explains the main course,” Jaehyun’s voice immediately reverberates in the hall, loud, deep, and booming. Taeyong doesn’t even want to think of the shadow of a proud smile on Jaehyun’s ugly face. Smug bastard. 

Taeyong secretly admired him for his effortless authority — Taeyong was a natural-born leader, that much was true with the way he valued equity and free speech, and how he took everybody’s best interests into consideration. Jaehyun, who was distinguished, princely, and at times austere, looked the part. He looked like someone to respect, to listen to, whose orders were to be followed. So attention and obedience and admiration flocked to Jaehyun organically. 

(It has been said, with varying amounts of malice, that Taeyong looked more like the type to be hanging off the arm of the boss man instead of running the non-literal business himself.)

“First off, I'd like to introduce the stellar nebulae of this millennium. Sungchan and Shotaro are new to the Banquet, so let’s all welcome them well, alright? No hazing.” he jokes, and a low rumble of laughter spreads across the grand halls. Whatever the fuck Jaehyun said, everybody just ate right up, even if it wasn’t that funny. Damn him and his uncomplicated urbanity. Acting like he owned the damn place all the time. 

Okay, maybe Taeyong’s a little sour because he still had to practice his greetings in the mirror before every event, but that’s besides the point. If anything, Taeyong still let Jaehyun up on the stage out of courtesy, at this point — Taeyong basically managed and ran every single Banquet alone after they broke up.

“Additionally, some planets from our neighboring solar systems are visiting for the first time. Can we have these lovely ladies raise their hands and stand up, please?” Jaehyun says, and four pretty girls stand up confidently and wave their hands. “We have Wheein, Byulyi, Hyejin, and Yongsun. Gorgeous, aren’t they?”

Taeyong clicks his tongue, and Jaehyun introduces everybody else. Taeyong is, like, the hottest thing in the universe, but nobody broadcasts that . Taeyong swipes the mic from Jaehyun’s outstretched hand in a millisecond and ignores the brush of Jaehyun’s calloused skin.

“Me again! I’ll get straight to the point. We’ll have charcuterie boards everywhere — peppered salami, rolled prosciutto, truffle cheese, gouda, racklet, emmental, grapes, dried apricots, mint jelly, olives..”

“Hanger, striploin and flatiron chargrilled steaks, massaman curry of lamb, red curry of duck leg, lychee and tomato, and slow cooked pork rib curry! There’s nasi goreng, caprese salad, prawn, pomelo and coconut salad, the like. For Beings who are vegan or vegetarian or pescetarian, there’s a special menu, you’ll just have to request for it!”

“Oh! And to everybody who was betting on Andouille and Frankfurt, we unfortunately couldn’t find any, even if we reserved some. Humans can be unreliable sometimes, silly little guys, so Irene purchased some mini sausages. Sorry about that.”

Because Taeyong’s grip on the mic was loose, Jaehyun was able to smoothly pry it from his hands, even if Taeyong clamped down on it like a damn wildlife trap once he realized Jaehyun wanted to get it for himself.

“By the way, Ladies and gents, if anybody’s interested in something much, much larger than a mini sausage, I’ll be free tonight.” Jaehyun croons, and everybody laughs at his stupid joke. Like, laughs laughs. People wolf whistle and some girls throw their shawls in the air, like Jaehyun was auctioning a one night stand and they were bidding for it. Taeyong feels his eye twitch in irritation.

Taeyong practically cuts him with a glare, and Jaehyun can see his golden, down-soft hair bristling. Taeyong feels like a rabid Chihuahua frothing at the mouth right about now. The room feels a little hotter, and Jaehyun has to adjust his collar slightly. Taeyong snarls, and Jaehyun merely shushes him. Shushes him, like he was some fussy baby!

“If you’re in a room full of dwarves, it doesn’t exactly make you a giant.” Taeyong grits through his teeth, while the laughter builds up and people are clapping. I mean, really, it wasn’t that funny. 

Jaehyun chuckles and places a palm over the mic. “You loved it enough to scream for it, though.”

“Are you sure you don't want to just talk to Gliese?” Taeyong spits out.

“Gotta let other people know I’m on the market.” Jaehyun sings.

Taeyong turns back to the audience, and smiles, dazzling and pretty. He yanks the mic from Jaehyun once again, suppressing the urge to swing it at Jaehyun’s stupid diamond cut jaw, and bats his lashes and lets out an easy little laugh. “Sorry about him, everybody. I promise he doesn't always broadcast the offer for a one night stand.” 

“Oh, come off it. You’ve had your fair share of sexual escapades. I should know.” he says, nonchalantly, and although he doesn’t have the mic, his smooth velvet voice still carries out considerably. Taeyong can see jaws dropping and eyes bulging across the floor. Some are positively amused, others are shocked, and some are pretty grossed out. Jaehyun and Taeyong have never acknowledged their history ever since the break up, preferring to respond with a laugh, a joke to shrug it off, an easy conversational pivot. To mention it in front of everybody, though? Taeyong would very much like to pick Jaehyun’s stupid eyeballs out with a salad fork and feed him space waste. 

“As I was saying,” Taeyong says, poison dripping off his normally sweet and soft tone. “The dessert..”

In the Dining Hall, a harrowing table made of deep brown mahogany holds a feast fit for the gods. Taeyong and Jaehyun take their seats at the opposite heads of the table, separated by seven meters of fragrant fruits, charcuterie plates, artisan cuts, thick slabs of meat and freshly cooked fish. Attendants refill their chalices on command and food is passed around, stars and planets converse the best they can given the huge blockade and noise.

Taeyong stabs a fork into his juicy turkey cut, smearing homemade cranberry sauce all over it. He glares at Jaehyun, who’s currently enjoying all the boys and girls fluttering around him and touching his neck, his shoulders, his biceps. He did have nice biceps… Then watches them inch away as Jaehyun gets into a tussle with Johnny, obviously not wanting to be collateral in a friendly fight.

Ugh. Jaehyun looked so clean and imposing at first glance, but he was a slob and a flirt through and through. Taeyong is ashamed to be Jaehyun’s counterpart — that suggested they were of equal majesty and grace, but looking at the way Jaehyun tore meat off of a large drumstick and sloshed red wine everywhere, Taeyong wasn’t so sure he wanted to even be the Sun if it meant being Jaehyun’s parallel. Maybe he could be an asteroid. One large enough to crash into the Moon and fucking obliterate it.

“Are you sure you just don’t want to hop on his dick and ride him like some sort of stallion? You seem to be staring. An awful lot.” Ten comments, mouth full of braised lemon and rosemary carp. He’s not totally wrong. Taeyong knows he’s looking at and thinking about Jaehyun much more now, but he can’t help it if Jaehyun looks even more of a douche than usual. Never mind that Taeyong has a thing for guys that are emotionally unavailable assholes. And that horrendous hickey? Gods. Trotting around like some kind of planet man whore and stinking up his Banquet.

Taeyong huffs, tearing his eyes away from Jaehyun and his monumental nose. His aristocratic, finely shaped nose. Taeyong swears Jaehyun’s face is 80% nose and 20% forehead. He truly does. “No, Ten, he bores me. He’s like the visual equivalent of elevator music.”

“More like Viagra.” Doyoung snorts into his chalice, water spilling on his sleeves and some on Ten’s salad. Ten wrinkles his nose in disgust and pushes his barely touched salad away from him. He was getting full anyway.

“Maybe before. Not now though. He got even stupider.”

“Stupider.” Doyoung repeats. When Ten opens his mouth to protest, Taeyong raises a finger and says, “Actually, no, you know what? When I think about it, he was always stupid. I was just blind and desperate and unaware there was better dick somewhere else.”

“Right.”

“Yeah. Like, it was tiny. So small it’s practically smaller than my index finger.”

“That’s a very profound description, Taeyong.” Ten commends, reaching over to give Taeyong a pat on the back. Taeyong smiles brightly, “I know, right?”

Doyoung is glad that Taeyong’s best friend is not only Ten, but him too, because Ten wasn’t exactly someone you turned to in times of critical decision-making. More like if you needed chaotic, unjustifiable enabling. Doyoung was there to tug Taeyong back to the ground, or at least somewhat near it, and remind him that no, Taeyong, you cannot make the humans send atomic bombs to the Moon. Yes, even if Ten says so. True story. 

“Um, excuse me, I seem to recall Taeyong saying his dick was, quote unquote, astronomically gargantuan.” 

“I never said that.”

“Yes, you did, you even sent me and Ten a Hubble telescope each to relay your message, which was telling us to congratulate you for finally getting that dick.”

“Delusional liar says what?”

“What?”

“Ha.”

After the meal, some start to stand up and disperse, some have moved seats in favor of easier conversation-making, and the others have gone back to the Grand Hall (the mention of a fondue fountain was enough to clear about a quarter of the table alone). 

Jaehyun watches as Taeyong flutters around the room, moving from each cluster of Beings to another, slipping into the role of a personable and open host. Taeyong is a leader, destined to be unique, yes, but the times he faithfully indulges in his introversion is when he is precisely content. Jaehyun knows Taeyong loves the Banquets, he goes all out for them and this millennium’s chosen flowers and food curation were a testament to that, but he also gets absolutely drained when the night is over.

His bright, irregularly big eyes twinkle in the light, true to his Star nature, and there’s a faint golden glow around him. The nose scrunches and the asymmetrical tug of his lips when he laughs only appends to his charm, and he sees that Taeyong has never really let go of his thumb-biting habit. The white and gold combination of his clothing does him good. Jaehyun looks away, only to find a group hurtling toward him, singing and jesting and nearly knocking a chair down.

“Stop ignoring us, man!” Yugyeom hollers, draping himself across Jaehyun’s back while Jeongguk unceremoniously drags five more seats and haphazardly places them closer to Jaehyun’s seat at the head of the table. He holds back a wince at the potential marks on the gleaming marble, and a quick glance to the floor lets him know that Taeyong will most probably freak out, or throw a tantrum, tomorrow.

“What? I was not.”

“Yeah, you were,” Bam pouts, sulky and all, “what happened to us being bachelors, huh? What about going down to visit human clubs and nabbing all the pretties?”

“Nothing happened,” Jaehyun hisses, pushing Bam’s dangerously close face away. He accidentally jabs him in the eye, and he shrinks into a shamble of whimpers. Yugyeom has the genius idea of using Minghao’s cold champagne flute as an ad hoc ice pack.

Mingyu wails. “ Everything happened! Jeongguk got tied down by that Mizar star, Eunwoo is busy all the time now with Gayoung, and our plans have fallen apart ever since!”

“Hey, dickhead, he has a name. And I didn’t get tied down. I do the tying down, if you know what I mean,” Jeongguk says, tongue-in-cheek, and as an effect Dokyeom and Bam hoot and holler and pry for details. 

With the way most of them throw around innuendos, shout “penis!” spontaneously (read: Bam, Minghao, Mingyu, Dokyeom), “ass?!” (read: Jeongguk, Yugyeom, Jaehyun), and “..vagina..” (read: Eunwoo, reluctantly), like truly calls to like, it seems. No wonder Taeyong would nag at him like a mother goose for being crude and blunt about sex and would mourn his “innocent Jaehyunnie.” He was weird about that sometimes.

Taeyong. Taeyong, Taeyong, Taeyong. Taeyong, with his odd hate for sex outside the bedroom and was as insatiable as a damn succubus inside it, with an overwhelming compulsion to have everything in order, with a stockpile of antibacterial substances and disinfectants, with his startling duality.

Mingyu asks, sly and snickering, “Jaehyun, don’t you think dear Taeyong gets prettier every banquet?” 

“No I really don’t think so.”

“What, so you’re saying he doesn’t look kissable right now?” Yugyeom questions like he’s offended.

“Stop this unlawful solicitation, or someone’s getting castrated tonight.”

“Oh, so there is something to solicit?” Eunwoo asks, faux-innocently.

Jaehyun growls, “Why don’t you come here and solicit my fist up your ass?” 

“Actually, he does look a little hotter than last millennium.” Minghao says, lamely.

“Ha. Ha, ha.”

“Oh, stop it. We were watching you watch him.” Eunwoo tsks, and Jaehyun has half a mind to look scandalized. Eunwoo is about to say something else, something probably wise and insightful and sobering, and Jaehyun isn’t sure he wants to hear it. Luckily, though, Eunwoo breaks into a low voice once he sees Taeyong making a beeline for their group. “Well, speak of the devil.”

Taeyong renders a dazzling smile, heralding genuine bonhomie without a trace of malice. It’s a heart-melting, falter-in-your-tracks type of smile that never fails to get drinks sent over his way or to receive leers and smirks from across the room. 

“Hi, boys! Enjoying the Banquet so far?”

Eunwoo rises from his seat smoothly and takes Taeyong’s right hand in his. When Eunwoo brings it to his lips, it’s in slow motion. Oh, good fucking Gods. He kisses his knuckles softly, and the effect is instantaneous with the way Taeyong makes a little squeak at the back of his throat. Motherfucker. He just violated Taeyong with his stupid lips.

“Eunwoo! What if Gayoung sees?”

“Hi Taeyongie,” he croons instead. Fucking Eunwoo looked like a gentleman, but he was the cunting Devil himself. “It’s nice to see you.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes fondly and pushes Eunwoo away. “Nice to see you, too. Still sauve, I see.” 

Eunwoo just shrugs and offers a wink, and Jeongguk gets the idea. “Hello Taeyong dear, how’ve you been doing? You look as stunning as ever.” Jeongguk chimes, grasping Taeyong’s other hand softly and kissing it. Taeyong pulls back, cheeks pink and smile wide. He tsks and flicks Jeongguk’s nose. 

“Don’t let Taehyung hear you speaking like that,” he warns jokingly, and Jeongguk smiles in response. “He’s twice the flirt I am. He’ll be fine.”

Bam smushes Taeyong’s cute little face in between his hands (“It’s been so long, my sweet!”), Mingyu cards his fingers through Taeyong’s hair (“Wow, that is soft! Mind if I give it a little tug?”) and gives him a head pat, Minghao brings him in by the shoulders for a hug, while Dokyeom brings him in by the waist, and because Yugyeom is smart and would prefer to keep his hands, he greets Taeyong from his seat with a smile. Like a normal person. Everybody should be like Yugyeom, Jaehyun thinks. 

Once Taeyong is through mingling and chirruping and giggling like some thirteen year old girl, absolutely blooming, Jaehyun has led ice crystals to form on the back and the legs of his chair. Purely out of boredom, of course. He catches Yugyeom eyeing it warily, as if they were about  to spit acid any moment, and his seven idiot friends finally decide to leave, murmuring their goodbyes, zipping across the threshold between the Dining Hall and the Grand Hall to get to the chocolate fondue.

Jaehyun stands up to mirror Taeyong’s stance, not face to face, but standing beside one another. They’re both on Jaehyun’s side of the table, and they have a vantage point for the guests still in the Dining Hall and a considerable view of the guests in the Grand Hall, dancing wildly and making new connections. Luminescent stardust is strewn around the room as Stars rub shoulders delightfully with a new group of Meteorites, and some drunken Asteroids run into Planets as an effect of too much wine. 

“Jaehyun.” 

“Taeyong.”

Jaehyun sips his wine, then, “Your obsession is getting out of hand, Taeyong. And getting very obvious.”

“I’m simply greeting all the guests, which, by the way, is part of your duty as co-host. Not flirting with every Being you meet.”

“See, now how would you know that if you weren’t watching?” 

“Maybe your head is so big it’s impossible to miss you making eyes at anything that moves.”

Jaehyun gives a disbelieving hum. 

“No, you know what, you’re like, a peacock. Strutting around and pecking at everything. It’s distracting and gross. You need to stop it.”

Jaehyun hums again. If Jaehyun hums one more time, Taeyong will have no choice but to shove a foot up all the way up to his stomach. 

“That was a dick move, Jaehyun.”

“What was?”

“That sex joke earlier! I was speaking.”

“Oh. Was that pun intended, then?”

Taeyong glares at him, then looks away. “Just because we’re, you know , doesn’t mean you can be rude. It’s common courtesy, alright?”

Jaehyun does not look embarrassed in the slightest. “I really was looking for somebody, though.” 

“Still!” Taeyong hisses. His vitriol manifests itself in the rising temperature of the room. “Couldn’t you have done it, like, not on stage when we’re supposed to be poised?”

“Relax, Yong. Everybody and their mothers were getting bored, you could see it on their faces. I just wanted everyone to look alive.” 

Taeyong sputters. “They were not! I would’ve noticed.”

“Took you a good two hundred million years to notice that I was interested in you in a more than platonic way.”

“Hey! You were younger by a hundred million, I always thought you liked me as an older brother, or.. something.” he says uselessly. Taeyong fiddles with the end of his sash, head bowed as if he’s trying to minimize himself. 

Jaehyun watches silently as everybody trickles out to the main area, and only Jaehyun and Taeyong’s mutual friends are in their own mini clusters. They leave Jaehyun and Taeyong alone, though, opting for silent looks from across the hall to leave them to their own private business, whatever the fuck that may be. Yuta throws suspicious glances at the pair, Johnny looks confused, and Mark looks apprehensive about having the two of them so close together without a mediator. He understands, it must be weird to be seeing the two of them together, and not at each other’s throats, at that. 

Jaehyun laughs, and wow . Taeyong forgot how deep, hearty, and sonorous it could be — it was its own melody. “Oh, please. You only really noticed me when I started working out and fixing my hair.” he drawls.

Taeyong raises his head so fast that he gets whiplash. His eyes are wide and frantic and he’s getting more flushed by the second, “Oh my God! No! That’s— that’s not true!”

“You know that!” Jaehyun just smirks and looks away. The drapes he chose for today were a good choice, he remarks inwardly. They complement the quartz pillars. Meanwhile, Taeyong wants to throttle him. “Jaehyun!”

“Such eloquence, Taeyong.” Jaehyun teases, and self-awareness must hit him like a truck because Taeyong composes himself at record-breaking speed. Jaehyun doesn’t think he’s ever seen somebody fix his hair, adjust a sash, recalibrate his posture, and change his facial expression all at once.

“Were they really bored?” Taeyong asks meekly.

Jaehyun glances at Taeyong, who looks more of an abandoned puppy than the actual Sun, then shrugs his shoulders. “Doesn't matter. They were probably just staring at your face the whole time.”

“Flirt. Is that one of your roundabout apologies, I hear?”

“Prude. No, and did you just call me fat?”

Taeyong shoots him a look, but Jaehyun can see the barest outline of a smile lurking beyond the surface somewhere there, eyes glistening with hidden mirth. Cute. 

“Did you like the food?”

“Meh. It was alright. A little heavy on the cheese, though. You might wanna dial back on the Feta next time.”

“Hm. Wouldn’t expect anything less than from some ill-bred oaf with unsophisticated taste buds.”

“What? I used to cook for you, stupid.”

“Don’t call me stupid, you lower life form. Your eggs were rubbish.”

“Tone down on the pet names, would you, baby?” Jaehyun says. “Words can hurt.”

Taeyong lets out a dry laugh, and Jaehyun lets out a laugh of his own, before saying, “Did you hear about Johnny? Humans have sent over a new Martian rover.”

And, honestly? He’s momentarily surprised. Weirdly enough, it seems like Jaehyun is offering some sort of olive branch, water under the bridge and all that. He isn’t completely sure on how to tread further, and he wavers for a little. But Jaehyun just looks at him, eyes that seem like they’re dissecting him and urging him simultaneously, before turning back to overlook the Banquet.

Taeyong replies as he normally would with anybody, and soon, they’re holding a lively stream of conversation, which is rare for the ex-boyfriends that have, time and time again, fought at the previous Banquets. He still sees Doyoung throwing them the occasional glance and Sicheng looks ready to intervene should anything spiral out of control. Taeyong pushes down the giddy feeling of— relief? familiarity? Taeyong doesn’t want to know, but he does know he gets a teensy bit overenthusiastic at the realization that they’re actually talking.  

Jaehyun shit talks puny humans while Taeyong persists in their defense, Taeyong mentions that humans have acquired sounds of the noises they emanate when they’re in their Celestial forms (something about frequencies and conversions), they have little throwbacks to the moments they shared, and Jaehyun mentions some type of cheating scandal between Enceladus, Miranda, and Titan. Apparently Pollux turned into Temporal form, trotted around on Earth, and got himself arrested.

“What do you think of the new Moons?”

Jaehyun gives a noncommittal hum. He seems to be nonpartisan about the subject. 

“I just hope they’re doing their jobs properly. But they seem pretty nice.” Taeyong remarks, and Jaehyun doesn’t say anything. He was never quite the talker, even when he had the fattest crush on Taeyong, and Taeyong is more than used to carrying the conversation. It’s no problem to him, though.

“I mean, they’re not new new, they’re about our age, but I’m talking about, like, Banquet-wise. This is their first Gala and we pretty much don’t know a thing about them.”

“I met one of them earlier, and he’s a cute guy! Phobos, I think? Sidled up to me and called me pretty, can you imagine? I’m sure he slipped in an innuendo, but it was pretty bad. I don’t even know if I could call it that. Poor guy.” Taeyong snickers, and it’s clear he’s getting lost in the memory by the way he stares out in space and lets out little giggles. “It’s funny because Phobos is the Greek God of Fear, and that was fearless. Threw me off a little because he’s like, five inches shorter than me, but it’s whatever.”

Jaehyun knocks back his whole flute in one go. I’m tall , Jaehyun thinks bitterly.

Taeyong babbles on about the rest. He forgot just how easy it was to talk to Jaehyun, and maybe he’s more than a little excited to be holding a conversation with him. “The rest of the beings seem to like them, at least. I like them a lot myself, they’re all charming. I think they’re a good batch.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes and scoffs into his flute. “Sorry excuses for a Moon, that’s what they are.”

Taeyong turns to him, and Jaehyun looks back at him. Taeyong’s brows are furrowed, and there’s a zap of irritation at Jaehyun’s words and tone. “What?”

He doesn’t move, nor does he retract his answer. Jaehyun simply shoots Taeyong a look that reads I said what I said . Taeyong, ever so compassionate and neighbor-loving, immediately safeguards them. Not just that, but four billion years later, Taeyong can’t imagine Jaehyun’s audacity. “Just because they’re not you doesn’t mean they’re necessarily bad.”

“You asked me for my opinion. I gave it.”

“You’re not the only Moon in the damn universe, Jaehyun.”

“Oh, this again?”

Their friends are walking toward them quickly at their rising voices, and at the clashing temperatures in the room. There’s a frosty gust of wind, then a sweat breaks on their foreheads and necks, then is washed over by the cold breeze. 

“Guys..” Mark tries to mollify before it can get any worse, having expected this since the moment he caught sight of the two of them, but is shut up with Jaehyun’s chilling gaze and a searing white glare from Taeyong. He gulps, and takes a step back. Everybody else seems to be invested in their own affairs, talking and laughing and flirting, jostling each other around and creating new inside jokes. 

Mark can only hope the other Beings don’t catch wind of it, or that the situation doesn’t escalate any further. There’s enough discord and chaos on Earth as it is, and Mark could really use a break. 

“Yes, this again! There’s Ganymede, Europa, Tethys, Titan…”

“Taeyong.”

Eyes dart from Jaehyun to Taeyong and return to Jaehyun, as if invested in a tennis game, or, according to the rate at which they’re quipping back and forth, a deadly game of table tennis. Taeil tries to tug Taeyong away by his elbow, but he shrugs Taeil off without any force.

“Callisto, Oberon, Ophelia..”

“Taeyong.”

“What?”

“Look at my face.”

“Sadly I am.”

“No, I mean really look at it. My nose, my brows, my lips, my jaw. Look into my eyes, Yong.”

“ No . Your ugly face is big and ugly and annoying. So ugly. I can’t even find the words to describe just how hideous you are, Jaehyun.”

“Are you looking?”

“....Yeah.”

“Now is there anything on my face that makes me look like I care?”

“You—! You!”

“Yes, yes, it’s me. Shall I fan you gently so you don’t go into shock?”

“You insufferable animal carcass! You’re so annoying!”

Jaehyun lets out a pleasured sigh and grasps his shirt. He laughs languidly, deep and sonorous and, unfortunately, pleasing to Taeyong’s ears. “What a way with words you have, Taeyong. Truly.”

“Maybe you’re just mad because your surface area and radius are smaller than other Moons. You’re threatened, yeah, that’s what!”

“Why are you looking at them, anyways? I’m the only one that should matter to you.”

If Taeyong is in any way affected by Jaehyun’s brazen remark, he doesn’t show it. Water off a duck’s back. “Well, Luna, you aren’t.” 

When Jaehyun found out that the humans had named him Luna, of all things, he had been a little offended. There’s nothing wrong with the name, except Jaehyun had always had an inclination towards masculinity, and Luna was.. Pretty feminine. He considered hurling a meteorite or two, but Taeyong had called him immature. Whatever. Humans would have been too dumb to get the message anyways. 

And the reaction he gets is exactly what he was fishing for. Jaehyun, as always, picked up what he was putting down, especially because Taeyong only ever uses Luna when he’s teasing Jaehyun and purposely riling him up. And Taeyong lets his pettiness and immaturity get the best of him when opens his mouth before Jaehyun can.

Taeyong smirks, “Speaking of, do you know why they call him Titan?”

Jaehyun’s eyes darken, and he’s about to do something — Taeyong doesn’t know what — but Taeil jumps in between the two of them. “Okay! That’s— That’s enough!” Donghyuck whisper-shouts, as Doyoung yanks Taeyong away from Jaehyun, and Yuta blocks Jaehyun’s view of the ballroom. Sicheng runs as fast as he can to get Titan the hell away from Jaehyun’s searching eyes. 

Johnny stands in between them as well, throwing glances over his shoulder to ensure nobody can hear them. He isn’t so sure he’s formidable enough to keep the two of them from shooting each other, though. “You’re making fools of yourselves. Stop it.” 

“He started it.” Taeyong huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at Jaehyun, who only winks at him. Taeyong sticks his tongue out. Jaehyun flips him the bird. Taeyong flips him with both of his hands. Jaehyun makes a crude in-and-out motion with his fingers, to which Taeyong practically screams bloody murder.

“Okay, maybe if you tell us what happened, we can all fix it together, okay?” Jungwoo offers, steering the two of them to the table to take a seat. He’s honestly glad that Jaehyun didn't break his arm in two, or that Taeyong didn't bite his hand off. These two were nearly feral. 

“Stay out of this,” Jaehyun grumbles, and although his eyes are locked on Taeyong, the rest know he’s talking to them. Unsure glances and silent apprehension are exchanged among the eight of them, brows furrowed in contemplation. 

“Only if you promise to settle it like civilized people.” Doyoung rebuffs, and Taeyong gives a nod. 

“Okay, we’re going to go now, but if I hear anything louder than a fucking whisper, I will cut both of your throats.”

“I just don’t understand why they always have to fight. Why can’t we all be friends?” Mark whimpers miserably to himself as they exit. 

“Out of the way! Depressed child of divorce coming through.” Jungwoo hollers, and snatches a flute of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray. He croons tenderly and strokes Mark’s head, “Here, yes, you poor child, drink it all.”

“Jungwoo, stop it. Mark is not a child of divorce.” Sicheng snaps, having shoved Lucas into a storage closet under the guise of a Seven Seconds in Heaven with a forthcoming asteroid, just in case Jaehyun came hounding into the ballroom with less-than-friendly intentions. They all know how he gets. Or, used to get.

Donghyuck only motions to the arguing ex-boyfriends. Or whatever you call two celestial beings that have been kissing and dating and fucking for two billion, nine hundred seventy-three million, six hundred forty-five thousand, nine hundred and ninety years and dancing around each other even before that.

“He kind of is. Sun, Moon, and Earth? I mean c’mon.”

Johnny was able to herd the crowd closest to the threshold even further into the ballroom, faking a wine spill and letting plates shatter. They know the fight must be bad when Taeyong doesn’t even run over to assess the prognosis of a wine stain on the nearby linen. Eight heads turn to the arguing Beings, who were supposedly the paramount Celestials out of everybody in the vicinity. 

“You’re a huge pain in my ass! Huge! A Hercu-fucking-lean pain!”

“That shouldn’t be a problem once we add some lubricant, eh?”

“What is wrong with you?! Can’t you keep your lunar cock in your pants for once?”

“What’s wrong with you? Why the sudden change, I thought you liked the pain.”

“No! Just— Shut up! Just shut up!” 

Overall, Mark isn’t sure if the guests are oblivious and totally deaf to the third World War happening in the Dining Hall, or if they’re faking ignorance for the sake of social convention. It’s embarrassing, and he himself is getting more annoyed by the hour. 

Every time the two of them meet, something is bound to happen — an unbidden, sudden competition where one tries to up the other, an explosive argument, or tiny, shady jabs thrown each other’s way. It’s tiring, and honestly, Mark just wants everybody to be friends again, even if it meant the couple sucking each other’s faces off in public like they used to (Jaehyun’s idea), or wearing those crappy couple shirts, complete with their faces, purple and pink hearts, and illustrations of the sun and the moon (Taeyong’s idea).

A minute later, Seulgi approaches the Dining Hall in hopes of retrieving an almond liqueur cake, dressed in a gorgeous blood red dress made of velvet, but at Jaehyun’s growl of “We were on a break.” and a hysterical, near maniacal laugh from Taeyong like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, she turns right back around. Sicheng can only offer a weak, horrified smile to compensate.

And suddenly Jungwoo’s elbow is grabbed, the boy spinning around with the force, and is met with Jaehyun’s stormy gaze. Jungwoo thinks he might pee his pants. “Where is he?”

Jungwoo laughs uneasily, sending a quick prayer to the heavens above. He scoots backwards. “Haha, uh, who?”

“Titan.”

“Jaehyun!” Taeyong hisses, stomping after him, “Jaehyun what the fuck?”

“ Venus,” Jaehyun says, eyes narrowing into tiny slits, their friendship be damned, and— yup, there it is, Jungwoo pees a little. “Where is he?”

“Jaehyun!” Taeyong says and finally yanks him back, words of beration and accusation falling from his lips in a colorful tributary. He has a tight grip around one of Jaehyun’s forearms. There’s some silent argument between them through their eyes and the tension is so palpable it’s about to suffocate them. 

The stare down is halted when Taeyong drags him (and Jaehyun follows obediently, which raises a few brows), cutting right through the crowd of people, and everybody watches as they ascend the stairs, disappearing into the hallway. The doors to one of the private rooms upstairs slams shut, and soon enough, there are muffled screams, and because there's some type of shattering noise, vases breaking and projectiles go flying.

The eight of them disperse to do damage control and to distract everybody from the noise that was on the cusp of reaching a hundred decibels. Taeil jokes around with Charon, Donghyuck says hello to a fresh batch of asteroids, and Johnny grabs a wine bottle and hopes his strategy of getting everybody so drunk they’d pay no mind works. 

Neither of them has emerged from the room yet — which is odd, because their fights were never this long.

“Do you think it’s possible they solved it?” Yuta asks them, albeit a little hopefully, having regrouped outside the door after nearly fifty minutes. 

A small lot of the guests are filtering out at this hour, saying their final farewells, see you next millennium, yadda yadda. They’re crowded outside the door, whispering and conversing in hush hush tones. They don’t want to pry, or anything, but curiosity is getting the best of them. 

“They probably killed each other,” Taeil concludes with a nod. 

Sicheng hums, “Or left without us seeing. Maybe they decided to call it a night?”

“Possible. Door’s locked, though.” Johnny says, twisting the knob to no avail. Doyoung’s voice rings in from the other end of the hallway, the area connected to the staircase. “The other private rooms are locked, too. Taeyong probably locked it when he left, I just hope none of them are hurt.”

“Emotionally, mentally, spiritually hurt, too. But knowing them, I’m sure one of them got hurt.. Like, their feelings, you know?” 

“Well,” Mark starts, then looks at the thinning crowd over the balcony, and sees people sparsely scattered across the floor. “I guess we should head home, too. It was fun, too bad we didn’t get any closing remarks, like last year.”

“Well, what's a millennium, anyways? The next banquet will be here before we know it.” Jungwoo says. “Rinse and repeat.”

“Let’s just reconvene here tomorrow, alright? The ten of us always do post-banquet clean ups, they'll be here if they decide to follow tradition.” 

“Yeah, I’ve gotta go check on my humans and see what they’re up to now. An hour off-duty usually gives me nuclear missile launches, and it’s been six, so..”

“Well where the hell are they?” Yuta asks, being the last to arrive. Everybody is already cleaning, and honestly, it's a great morning. The sunshine has settled on a more yellow hue than a blinding white (Taeyong always glowed a golden yellow when he was exceptionally happy) today, and it filters in gracefully. The marble looks good in the light. 

“I know, right?” Jungwoo lets out a disbelieving scoff. He's on a ladder, trying to detach the banners and various cloths from the ceiling. He almost fell down around five times, but he had drawn the shortest stick. 

Doyoung rolls a huge vacuum in, clunking and clacking, “Jaehyun probably picked up one of those meteorite chicks last night, but Taeyong would never miss out on an opportunity to clean.”

Johnny is sweeping the floor, Donghyuck wipes down the windows, Sicheng scrubs and polishes, while Taeil is in charge of mopping. Jungwoo nearly slips and falls again. 

Ridiculous. They weren’t even here, and they were doing their dirty work. It was their Banquet!

“Oh gods,” Taeil mutters, “Now I really hope they didn't kill each other at some point last night.”

Johnny shrugs. “I wouldn’t worry about it, little buddy.”

“Who are you calling little buddy, Mars?” Taeil hisses, wielding the mop threateningly.

“Haha.. Donghyuck, of course…Mercury’s tiny..” 

Over the hellish blast of the vacuum, Doyoung asks, “Is it possible for Celestials to kill each other as Temporals?”

“Shouldn’t be.” Yuta pipes in as he cuts a soggy inch off the stem of every flower that Taeyong had bought. Fucking Taeyong and his fucking flowers. When – if –  he arrived, Yuta would shred them to pieces right before his eyes. 

“What? I can't hear you.”

“Maybe you should turn the vacuum off, then!”

“What did you say?”

“I said it shouldn't be possible!” Yuta screeches. 

“Hey! Guys! There are some leftover crab sticks. Did anybody bring Tupperware?” 

“We are literal planets, Jungwoo. Not one of us brought Tupperware to the clean up of a universe-wide Banquet.”

Jungwoo tsks. “I was just asking.”

Eventually they steer toward various topics, like Johnny asking them how long they'll be on Earth before they get back to work, Taeil poking and prodding at everybody for juicy gossip, Jungwoo almost getting decapitated by Yuta for cracking another Uranus pun. Yuta suggests they sing a song to promote teamwork and Doyoung proceeds to go on a tangent as to how stupid that would be. Sicheng starts singing anyways, and Donghyuck introduces them all to some Earth musician named ‘Lady Gaga’ — Johnny finds that he quite likes the song Judas. 

The scent of bleach is strong, negating the fresh, dewy floral scent that was so prevalent during the Banquet. Mark wipes the same spot on the bannister, the same one for ten minutes (or possibly more) as he listens to the rest of them throw theories around in the air. Some are believable, like the simple coincidence of both have morning sickness, and some are far-fetched, like spontaneous combustion on Taeyong’s end and a meteor strike on Jaehyun’s. Sicheng suggests kidnapping, Johnny says explosive diarrhea, Jungwoo proposes a quick intergalaxy running of errands, Donghyuck says Taeyong probably went to visit Earthlings, Taeil says Jaehyun is currently planning their demise, Yuta thinks Taeyong hooked up with one of the other Stars, Jungwoo suspects a joint fasicst regime, and Doyoung thinks it’s highly likely they’re suffering from hangovers.

He gulps. Mark doesn't know how to tell them what he discovered once he got back from the Banquet. NASA and other government agencies have so far been unable to provide explanations, but Mark thinks he might be able to guess why humans experienced an eight hour long solar eclipse last night.