Okay! I hope you guys enjoy, this is mostly angsty... sadly, but there's also some Hephaestus and Ares here... so. MxM. (- warning)
As the world grew dark, Selene cast her light into the bedchambers of the Olympians. The great marble of the Mount Olympus palace now glowed with a milky resonance, appearing ghostly and haunted. Though such a place is typically seen as the home of the gods, like all places, when cast with the moon's rays, it takes on a new, hidden face, only shown to the select few individuals who find solace in the darkness, or are plagued by the memories that it brings. It is in these ghostly halls, that one of the gods found himself wandering, haunted by persistent memories and a troubled past. He could not bear to return to his chamber, and to remain in these hallways was mental suicide, so he went to the chamber of the only god he could trust, much to his own chagrin.
"Hephaestus!" The god whispered through his teeth, still somewhat on edge. "Hephaestus!" He called again, before proceeding into the room. The chambers each had tiled floors, with a smooth feel, but they clicked hauntingly at the slightest provocation, and the god's calloused feet were betraying him. Suddenly, from the depths of the hallway, a sharp creak echoed, magnified by the vast emptiness and scaring the only one awake to hear it. The god quickly leapt into the bed he was creeping to and wrapped himself around its occupant. Hephaestus shot up, half tackled by the god who had buried his face in his chest, and was hooked to his shoulders.
"Ares! Ares are you okay?" Hephaestus whispered, his fiery red eyes glowing in the dark, and attempting to adjust to the dimmer light.
"Yeah, just a ni-nightmare," Ares answered, his tongue slipping and betraying him. "Go back to bed, I'm just going to use you as a pillow, I didn't think you'd mind."
"Ares," the fire god continued, sitting up fully. "I don't think you're okay, and if you just fall asleep here, people are going to figure out that we don't actually hate each other."
"…" Ares was silent; he knew he would have to tell someone eventually, he just never figured it would be this man; this soft, weak, sensitive, nice, caring, kind, annoying, compassionate, old man. "Well… I…"
"Yeah?" Hephaestus asked, shifting so that Ares could be more comfortable on his shoulder.
"I've just… I've fought… a lot."
"Well, isn't that your job?"
"Yeah, but I never thought it would get so… hard?" Ares stammered, uncomfortable and unsure how to continue.
"War is never easy; take it from someone who's made the countless weapons used during it." Hephaestus added, wrapping his free arm around Ares, so that he was warmer.
"I keep…" Ares had trouble finding the next word, but he leaned back and felt reassuring warmth on his back, and continued. "I keep… seeing them. I keep seeing the faces of those men who I killed, they were young, one of them was just a kid, I bet he even ran away from home so he could fight on the battlefield, and I just ran him through." Ares was losing it, his dark green eyes were beginning to glaze over with tears, and his voice was getting jumpy. He didn't understand what he was feeling. He was such a closed person, yet all it took was a pair of warm hands around him, and he melted. He couldn't understand this, this man who he had hated, and then slowly become friends with, but he had a reputation to keep. And now, here he was, in the arms of this man, crying into his chest, and being comforted by his smoky scent. He was letting out all of his bad past and wounds, but… he couldn't just do this.
"If it makes you feel better, we could go ask Hades about him tomorrow." Hephaestus pitched the idea out, not expecting any real reply.
"N-no! I need to get a grip!" Ares shouted, attempting to pull off of Hephaestus, but instead falling into him even more. "Why are you so…"
"Strong?" Hephaestus finished.
"Yes!" Ares shouted, sadness shifting to anger as he began to fall into his old rut again. "It's not fair that you who spend all your time locked away are stronger than me… It's not fair!" Ares shouted, punching at Hephaestus and instead whiffing into the pillow. He was breaking into tears again. "I'm supposed to be young, and ferocious, and mean, and bloodthirsty, and instead I can't even cope with one stupid kid getting killed. I mean… killing… one… stupid… young… free, promising, hopeful, happy, had something to live for…" Ares broke off into tears again.
"Ares?" Hephaestus asked, being actively cried into.
"Shut up!" Ares shouted. He was standing on a cliff, and if he fell, he'd wake everyone up and go on an anger rampage. "You old, stupid, fart!"
Hephaestus ignored the words, and recognized the anger, and the situation, he had seen Ares get bad, and he had to do something to keep him from freaking out. "Ares…"
"I said shut-…"
But he was cut off, as Hephaestus forced his lips to his.
"!" Ares couldn't react, so he just stayed there in Hephaestus arms, the anger receded and the sadness returned, but it wasn't so bad anymore, he felt as if Hephaestus was taking some of it from him.
"There, not so angry now are we?" Hephaestus cooed, breaking the kiss, but keeping the closeness.
"What the freaking shit man!" Ares yelled at his face, but his voice was weakening again, and a smile was actively infecting his face.
"I figured you were feeling a little lonely; was I right?" Hephaestus grinned, shooting Ares a knowing smile.
Ares was silent for a moment, how much did this man understand him? "… Yeah, yeah I was."
"But not now?" Hephaestus asked, still smiling.
"No," Ares answered, returning the hug to Hephaestus for the first time. "No, not now."
"My my… the great warlord Ares being sensitive?"
"Shut up, I've got a reputation to keep, remember?"
"Well, no one's around to see us now… want to try that kiss again?" Hephaestus answered, wiggling his eyebrows jokingly.
"Oh what the hell…" Ares smiled back, as he got closer to Hephaestus.
As the two met lips, they played it slow, merely grazing their lips back and forth, splitting them slowly and working with the warmth. They slowly began to press closer, adding some passion to the kiss, before Hephaestus decided to make the first move. He slowly grazed his tongue over the part of Ares' lips, and played for entrance, that which Ares allowed, only whipping his own tongue out to battle with Hephaestus. Their tongues battled in the between space, only teasingly giving each other a taste of the other's mouth. Hephaestus opened his eye just a crack, only to meet with Ares' piercing gaze. He was intently staring down Hephaestus, applying war tactics to their kiss, making something playful into something much more serious. As the red and green eyes melted into each other, Hephaestus decided to give Ares a little sense of victory, and drew back his tongue, allowing Ares full passage. The war god played around like a child given free reign, surveying the land and basking in the warmth of his spoil of tongue-war. However, Ares understood that Hephaestus had given him the victory and decided to allow him a moment or two of victory as well. He wrapped his tongue around the fire god's and guided it over to his own mouth. Hephaestus enjoyed the game, and played his part, playing around with Ares' mouth, tickling his gums and making a quick lap, before pulling apart. Both men had spent the last of their remaining energy on the kiss itself, and were now resting on each other.
Ares had never experienced anything like that. With Aphrodite he had complete free reign, and it quickly became boring. Hephaestus was strong, and was willing to fight Ares as an equal. Ares couldn't keep his head in war anymore, losing his sense and melting into his simpler senses, the whole room, and bed, and now he himself smelled strongly of warmth and smoke, like Hephaestus constantly stayed at his forge, even when in his chamber. The smell of smoke permeated him, and as he curled into Hephaestus, the smell became overpowering, making him light headed, as he buried his nose deep into the fire god's chest, being tickled by the hairs, and tracing his fingers on the heat freckles.
Hephaestus was equally overpowered, but more by the raw emotion of the situation. Ares had never vented so much, and the progress that he had made was amazing. Ares seemed truly real to him for the first time in so long. He had that anger façade down pat, and though it was hard to break through it, when one does it's highly rewarding. Hephaestus rewarded himself by slipping back into his sensual urges, smelling Ares on him. The smell of blood and sweat was powerful, but underneath there was a smell of distant lands; forests and spices unknown, from lands conquered, and wars won and lost. Ares must spend more time out of war that Hephaestus realized. He was interested in learning more of this man, and as he took Ares into his arms, he was nothing but happy.
Hephaestus suddenly felt something jabbing his stomach. "Ares?"
"mmmm?" Ares said, too tired to respond.
"Have you been naked this entire time?"
Ares smiled impishly. "How'd you guess?"
"Your 'little Ares' made a cheap stab at my gut." Hephaestus smiled, drifting off to sleep.
"Ah, I've trained my dagger well then." Ares joked, placing a soft kiss on Hephaestus' cheek before drifting off with him.
I hope you guys enjoyed! I don't write stories too much, but I'm getting better at it! Tell me if you guys want more myth stuff, because I've got plenty of other stories! Please Review if you would! I would like to hear if you guys have any recommendations for me on writing and stuff. Thanks!