For your time (i'll give you this smile).

Chapter 1.

"Do you believe that opposites attract?"

"I believe that we couldn't exist without each other."

"Did you know there are more colors than just this, Otabek?"

Picture this: a fracture in time where there is only golden light, ever-changing skies, and a field of flowers. Warm. Vibrant. A fracture in time where life thrives.

"I'm aware," Otabek tells him, voice carefully neutral.

Now picture this: nothing but a boat, an Ocean of Dreams, a Man in the Moon, and his stars. Yuuri sits on the edge of his sailboat, feet dangling in the water, the waves rocking him back and forth like a lullaby. In one fist is a handful of Yuuri's robes, holding them just out of reach of the ocean's caress. In the other, a rose.

A ghost of a smile crosses his face. "Have you seen any of them?"

Otabek's head is bowed. Yuuri knows his answer before he even speaks. Too many millennia spent together, he supposes. "I see only what you do."

The curse of a royal guard, the oath of the Man in the Moon, destined to follow him 'til the end. Yuuri's smile turns rueful, moonlight softening his features only just.

"How boring," he drawls.

The soft, sad smile Yuuri gets in return itches at his skin, and so he turns his attention away from Otabek to the small treasure in his hands.

Cold light could never hide its vibrancy. Petals redder than a blood moon, stem greener than a stormy night. Yuuri holds it close and breathes in the scent, eyes fluttering shut. First, a gardenia on the Sky Court's throne that he didn't dare touch. Second, a single viscaria that Yuuri eyed warily. Third, a red rose that he knows was left for him.

"It's beautiful," Otabek offers.

Hand laying on his heart and leaning against the ship's mast, Yuuri watches as the colors finally bleed from the rose.

Petals turn to stardust in his hands.

"It was," he agrees.

There's a crease in time that stands between Night and Day. Twenty-four pillars, a single throne, and nothing but cool clouds beneath Yuuri's feet, winding around his ankles and kissing the stars in his cloak. The Sky Court, where Night and Day will peacefully trade places 'til the end.

Yuuri only knows the back of Viktor's head and vice versa. Only knows the vibrancy of his robes and the cheerful blue of his hair. Rise from the throne just before the other arrives and silently return to their respective realms, moving like clockwork around each other. Never a word traded, never a glance back from either of them.

Until...

"Why do you place them in the sky?"

Pause. "I don't know what you mean."

"Orion, Hercules—your constellations."

Something in Yuuri burns. The curiosity as tempting as the forbidden fruit that cast Adam and Eve from the Garden, and for the first time, he peers back over his shoulder—and stops. Breath hitching. Bright blue, the one shade Yuuri will never find in his realm no matter how far and wide he searches. Those are the eyes of King Viktor.

Even kings falter, and Yuuri is no exception. This is an unprecedented pause in their dance, and no one's taught him the following steps. The stars crowning his head almost feel as if they're searing his brow.

"What are their purpose?" Viktor asks Yuuri.

A rueful, tight smile. "Being beautiful isn't enough?" He turns his eyes away, the colors of Viktor too bright, too enchanting to look at. Yuuri isn't used to them. "They're my one gift to the mortals." He continues, "To watch over them while they dream and to guide them on their way, should they ever wander through the dark."