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He had centuries to get used to it. To get used to all those months without him, but everytime it was hard.
Everytime Chanyeol kissed him after leaving him in the bed, still sweaty for the sex, to go to the humans world, it was painful, but knowing that his presence up there would have brought joy and colors, and knowing that he would have come back to him, it made that pain bearable.
Chanyeol couldn’t see him, they couldn’t meet or talk, while he was up there, but he could watch him. He could see how the landscape changed when he was there, how it became full of colors, he could see how bright his mother’s smile became.
Sometimes he was still amazed by how Chanyeol could embrace such opposite roles and natures in him. From the brightest colors of life to the darkness of death in the Underworld.
He was a perfect god and ruler, loved, and also feared by many, and he was his.
He loved him.