AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Thank you all so much for the wonderful comments on my first story, Orchids and Wine. This is a continuation of that story, but only if you squint. From all the encouraging comments and reviews, I will certainly continue to post fics on here. Thank you again and I sincerely hope you enjoy. As before, constructive feedback is very much welcome.
For those who have not read the previous story, let me know if you have trouble following. I think I explain enough, but like I said, please let me know!
You're Something Beautiful; A Contradiction
It's a few weeks after the Ides of March and Eros says the fountain is full of wine. An invitation. I follow him out into the moonlit garden without a word.
Under Selene's pale glow, my brother's skin becomes a series of silver shimmers that move too quickly for my eyes to follow. I settle on the stone bench surrounding the fountain, legs tucked under me. Eros steps on to the space beside me, but goes on past until he is sinking in the fountain's wine. The rich smell spills over my senses and on to his thighs. Eros' white tunic floats up and then it's off and I can see his body stain with that dark color.
Eros is watching me watch him. He grins. As if it's some new victory to see me surrender to him so easily. As if I am capable of doing anything else.
I lean forward just enough for my own clothing to get damp in the fountain. Eros reaches out, his fingers grasp on the soaked fabric. Something catches in my throat. We're moving faster than usual. If this is Eros' apology for the bronze god asleep in his bed (what was once our bed), then I want to enjoy it more. I pull away before he can get a good grip. I know myself well enough, and him too. If he undresses me now, everything will be over long before all the stars appear in the sky. It will give Eros time to sneak back to Ares and I'm not letting that happen. Not tonight, when the fountain's filled with wine for us.
"How did it get here?" I ask, dipping my hand into the tainted water. My fingertips come away sticky and I try not to notice the irritation lined in my brother's brow. He almost looks anxious.
"Dionysus. He told me to try dripping blood in here. Ichor turns sea-come to wine," he says with his usual laugh, "It'll be gone by morning, though."
Normally, the fountain is filled with ocean water-- a reminder of Aphrodite's purity. She started out so clean in the sea foam, but I don't believe she's been that for a long time. Eros likes to joke about how the froth tastes like cold come.
My brother lifts up a dripping white hand so I can see the new and rare scar running across his palm. Eros' blood.
He lets his arm drop only to cup his hands together, raising the wine to my mouth. It's instinct more so than even desire that brings my parted lips to him. The wine splashes against the roof of my mouth and for a delicious moment Eros has the tips of his fingers in my mouth. I suck off the last drops of wine. It tastes sweeter than I'm used to, hot from his body and addictive. Eros keeps feeding it to me. Somewhere between the sixth and the seventh handful I crash into the pool with him. Eros lets the eighth drizzle on to my chest and chin.
"Does it taste good?" he asks softly. Even if I could think of a reply, Eros doesn't give me a chance. His hand presses against my shoulder through the wet cloth, leaning me back so I float. He kisses my throat's wine-stained skin and I feel his tongue swirl, lapping up the sweet drink. Eros is sucking at my skin, too lightly to bruise but still enough for a sensuous heat to build between my legs. I try to bite back a moan, but Eros hears it anyway, probably sees it fighting my chest, and laughs. With anyone else, this would make me feel pathetic except that there is no one else.
"Your skin's so hot already," Eros says against my collarbone, "Makes the wine taste even better." Actually, everything is warmer than usual. With soft edges that should only come with drunkenness. Even for me-- even with him, this is happening too fast. Seven handfuls of wine are hardly enough to let this happen. What did Eros' blood do to me?
I don't even notice his hands exploring me, separating my thighs until I am quaking under his expert touch. Eros' fingers wrap around my cock and I lose my breath. His skin is cool against mine, magnifying the sensations. Eros's fingers rubbing along the head... another moan and he squeezes his approval. My eyes close without my permission. I let him take over completely, his hands controlling me like I'm some kind of instrument. He flicks my swollen cock and I make a noise like Orpheus's golden lyre.
"Eros--," I whine. His touch disappears, leaving vapors of heat on my body.
"Let's go for a walk. Clear your head."
Again with instinct over thought or will, I obey and climb out of the fountain. My tunic is soaked red, but I leave it on in the secret, sick hope that Eros will take it off for me.
He walks ahead of me with his usual impish step. I limp behind, trying to calm my body down.
--
We walk and kiss and speak softly for an hour before Eros finally stops in a drying valley.
I lay on the grass and he stretches alongside me. Eros kisses my neck and his fingers slowly peel the wet cloth off my body. As I lie naked, he squeezes the wine from the tunic into my open mouth. If the alcohol had me before, I'm drunken waste now. He's kissing me when I drift off.
His hands between my legs pull me back into consciousness. I hear myself moan and feel his thumb brush across my balls. Maybe not in that order. I think lips are on my cock, feel the wet heat around me, but I can't be sure and then I'm hearing voices. I hallucinate three slim figures circling us.
I must be coming because my head feels even lighter and there's the sensation of air below me, around me. Feels like I could be floating on the sky. I pass out.
--
When I wake, there are accents I don't recognize. I groan, but I'm ignored. My eyes are too heavy to open.
"He fits the description," a stranger rasps.
"What about the one who ran off?"
"Why would Love have dark hair like that?" Eros. "This one was on his back anyway. Drunk on come, probably." They laugh and I think I blush but then I'm fading back into dark.
--
The warmth of poisoned wine is replaced by an impossible chill. I try to hide from it, go back to sleep but end up shivering instead. My eyes open with some resistance.
Upon looking around, I immediately regret not sinking back into dreams.
I'm on a bed with only cloth, maybe crude sheets about my legs. Wherever here is, it's cold. The air is heavy with an inescapable smoke that passes though me like freezing wind trapped in my chest. I don't recognize a thing, but there's a familiarly of this situation that frightens me. There's a shiver down my back, scraping against my mind until I remember.
Eros. He's abandoned me. Again.
I have my guesses about where I am now. Eros makes enemies just by breathing. Maybe he amused himself with making a nymph love an ugly mortal and her river god father has me locked up in his underwater prison. Or Zeus doesn't appreciate my brother's constant harassing of Ganymede, cupbearer and whore. I suppose Zeus would know better than to give Eros a chance to slip through the cracks of a capture. It's too cold for Olympia, anyway. This place is underground, damp and smoke filled. The Underworld?
My heart starts skipping because I think I am right. This is my fault, then, so maybe Eros abandoning me is fair. Choosing Thanatos for one of the three tasks was my idea. This might be Hypnos' palace. I imagine I smell an undertone of poppies through all the smoke and trying to avoid panic is becoming difficult, impossible. Something pumps blood up into my throat and I wonder if I can choke on my own heart as the door opens.
It isn't Hypnos. I almost wish it were.
There are certain gods that you know by looking at them. It doesn't matter that I have never seen a statue of him, nor that the only times I heard his name were in a story my mother told. Back then, I was fascinated, but Eros warned me that he is a tyrant, how he eats men's hearts whole. Hades.
The hell god is not what I expect.
Unlike his brothers who I have met by trailing my mother, Hades is slim with narrow shoulders. The shape of his skull is defined under ashen skin and I almost can see the sinews of individual muscles from his neck to chest. Hades has a soft expression, but it doesn't comfort me.
If anyone can kill an immortal, it's Hades. This doesn't bode well for his captive and that is what I suppose I am. A prisoner with seven handfuls of Love's poison in my veins.
"You are not Eros," he says and it's an accusation. As if we can be blamed for not being our brothers-- let alone fix it.
"Did he think he could dance his way out? Trick me by bringing his twin?" Hades spits out the last word. We're not twins; I'm littered with flaws Love will never have, but I don't dare contradict Hades. I haven't been given permission to speak.
Hades looks down, directly at me and for a moment anger flickers across his face, but it's gone and it doesn't matter because he's staring at me. I turn away and press into the headboard. Why is everything so cold here? Even the air with all that ash is making me shiver.
"Anteros." My body tenses hearing the hell god speak my name. "I'm not going to hurt you, Anteros," his voice is gentler now, as if Hades can be soothing. I don't trust him. I keep my gaze fixed in front of me because I'm too scared to move.
Out of the corner of my vision, I see he is stepping further into the little stone room.
"Look at me?" It's a question, an invitation and I don't want to, but my eyes move anyway. Hades stands at the foot of the bed. He's wearing a scholar's robe, but it is stained black. I think he is smiling under those gaunt features, but that makes it even worse.
"I'm sorry I frightened you. Your brother... frustrates me," he says.
I'm sorry. It is odd that Death is the first person to ever apologize to me outright? Especially when he has done nothing and Love everything.
I nod. "He frustrates most people." It's easy to talk about Eros, even with a hell god. I find myself relaxing in spite of Hades being so close.
"But not you," he clarifies.
"Not me." I want to ask what Eros did to warrant his attempted capture, but knowing my brother, maybe I don't have to. Maybe I don't really want to know the details.
"You don't seem surprised. Did you know he was going to do this?" Hades asks.
I shake my head. "He's done something like this before... though he didn't try to poison me last time."
"You're not angry with him." I can hear the disgust tucked under his concern. Because of who I am and what my brother is, I've learned to detect it in people. They think I can fight him; they don't understand.
"Well, I'm not getting hurt. Why bother being angry with him?"
Hades just sighs. At least he doesn't try to argue or comprehend. Death moves on. "Who knew Love could poison?" he almost laughs, "Do you need a drink?"
I hesitate. There is another story, more like gossip, I heard from Aphrodite. The garden was wilting because Hell had stolen Demeter's daughter-- swallowed her whole and kept her there with seven pomegranate seeds.
Hades is waiting for an answer, but I can only blurt out something thoughtless.
"The food of the dead," I stammer, a whisper I try desperately to call back, demand the words jump back down my throat.
I expect him to be angry, but he just laughs. "Only for pretty girls."
Somehow, I find myself smiling. If Hades eats men's hearts, I'm safe anyway. Eros ought to know that. The poison has made my throat bone dry, so I agree to the drink and offer of clothing. Maybe not in that order.
--
Hades is letting me stay in the Underworld until I feel better. Trouble is, I've felt alright for a while and certainly well enough to return to Eros' care. At least physically, but I don't think I can really handle seeing my brother just yet. Every time I think about him, there is the jolt of a different kind of poison --still his-- that racks my body and sends my head spinning. What's the rush to return to someone who almost had me killed anyway?
I should be more concerned about staying down here, I'm sure, but hell's king has been nothing but kind to me. He is soft spoken, but I can sense the power he holds without anything showy to prove it. We've fallen into the habit of walking together through the halls of a dark palace. He tells me about his brothers and the other Olympians, careful to never mention Ares unless to comment on his lack of tact. Mostly he tells me stories that my mother never bothered me with when I was younger. Sometimes we meet the heroes from the legend. Sometimes the villains. There's a lesson, I think, in being shown in person how every mortal ends up in Hades' realm.
I tell him-- more confess to him about what I see when I go to punish those who have the audacity to scorn love. Sometimes he knows the stories I tell him, says that the lovers still mourn here after death. He is sincere about it, about everything.
All that keeps me from completely trusting him is Persephone. I see her walking the halls like a ghost. She gives me strange looks, as though I were my brother armed with those fatal arrows. Like most, she doesn't understand. I've seen something in her, though; when Spring believes no one is watching her, she follows Hades with bright green eyes.
--
"Is something wrong?" I've been silent for a few minutes, listening to Hades tell me about the flower lovers. The look Hell gives me... so concerned and out of place. He must know that Hyacinth's blood red petals are worth tears.
"I've been wondering why you tried to catch Eros," I admit to the ceiling. There are paintings everywhere, but the most beautiful murals stretch across what would be hell's sky. This corridor is dedicated to Helios. The burnt, golden texture of the ceiling is similar to my own skin, but my eyes will never have the power or fire of the Titan's illustrated expression.
I'm trying not to look at Hades. I've been worried about the answer for a while, which is ridiculous. It's not as if the hell god has given any hint to anything but loathing my brother.
"Why do you think I tried?"
Because you are a jealous lover, same as the rest of them. I avoid the question.
"When I first realized I was in the Underworld, I thought it might be Hypnos," I admit instead, "Which would mean I actually deserved it. Endymion was my fault."
"What would you want with distracting Hypnos?" Hades asks, he seems honestly surprised.
"I made a bet with Eros, saying that there were people out there who could never love him," I shrugged, "So there were three people he had to seduce to prove me wrong. Thanatos, Aphrodite, and Ares."
Hades only nods, but I catch a wince when I say War's name. That was my fault, too.
"I almost picked you, actually. Instead of Ares," I add, trying to distract myself. Hades looks me in the eye and for a moment, I can feel the pull of the Fates' strings. Spending time in the Underworld has made me wonder if we're all damned. Even the gods.
"Why didn't you?"
Maybe my subconscious knew I would be jealous when Eros succeeded. After all, even if it was true that Hades ate hearts, he was still fascinating. "I thought one trip to the Underworld was enough."
Hades smiles and I don't understand why. "He came down to the Underworld anyway." Oh. That's why he's grinning like that.
I shouldn't be surprised. With Eros' track record, I am accustomed to my brother getting everything I want. This is different, though. He called Hades a monster, why would he--
"Not for you what you think, Anteros." I relax a fraction, but notice we've stopped walking. I'm standing at the ivory feet of a giant statue of Apollo. "I asked him to come, as a favor."
I wince. Why does Hades think this is making things better? We're moving again and I'm thinking about just full out running away. I don't want to hear this.
"What for?" I croak, to let him know I am listening, to beg him to stop talking about this. He could have just turned me down, it isn't that hard. I'm not my brother.
"I needed him to help me with Persephone. He said I was out of my league," Hades says.
"Oh." Immediately, I want to apologize, but I can't. I've never been able to undo my brother's work or what he says or else I wouldn't be like this all the time. "He's... You didn't want to have to steal her away like that?"
"No. But I didn't think she would love me without help. Who could love Death?"
I have an answer I'm afraid to admit. We stop again, but Hades steps a little closer and now I'm leaning against a column. I like having him near me, the unexpected warmth coming off his body. It doesn't matter that I have nowhere to go because I am suddenly certain I don't want to be anywhere else.
"She could," I say, but it's beginning to seem like what I say does not matter. We both know what we're really talking about. "But you didn't give her a chance. Sometimes you don't need Love's help. Besides, all he can do is hurt her."
"Does it seem strange to you? Only the wounded know how to love."
"Eros poisons people. Even now, I can feel the venom on my lips from that wine."
"So if I wanted to love, I would need that poison, too?"
As always, as with everything, it's more instinct than thought when I answer him with a kiss. There's a relief that spills over me when I realize Hades is kissing me back, that his eyes are closing like that to enjoy it more. It's not about making me disappear. Strong arms pin me against the column and I don't even notice my shoulders beginning to hurt until he apologizes into my mouth. I keep kissing him, but Hades is trying to say something else. I get confident and ignore him for a moment, sucking the tongue that's trying to speak into my mouth. I lap at it and the only sound Hades can compose is a gravelly moan. I own this kiss even as I give him a moment to breathe. I start moving my lips to his cheek, his throat.
"You kiss me like that again," he starts, his voice is all gasps and low breaths in my ear, "You do that again and we won't make it to the bedroom." I can feel the reverberations of sound in his throat as I drag my teeth against it. When I look up, Hades' eyes are rolling back with the sensation.
"Then you have a challenge on your hands," I say, remembering who I am for the first time in days, weeks, lifetimes. "I never slow down."
I'm worse than love; I'm torment.
My lips are back on his and Hades' hands are roaming over my body. Warm fingers travelling over my robe, searching around my hips, resting on the small of my back. He's getting more confident, but I am not relinquishing control so easily. Arms around his neck for balance now, I wrap one and then both legs around his waist. The cloth wrapped around me droops down and exposes my legs to the underworld's lack of light. Pressed up against him like this, I can feel Death becoming as hard as I am. His breaths are getting shallow in my ear. Hades' body, once warm and comforting is now transformed to hot and strong against me.
All these little movements and calculations are so fucking worth it when he finally grabs underneath me. I groan against him and then our roles are switched. His fingers are digging into my ass, a thumb tracing in circles and pressing against my entrance through the cloth.
"F-fuck," is all I can manage at this point. I've forgotten myself to those hands kneading into me and become something obscene. It barely even registers that he's moving us except that luxurious marble is no longer against my back. In a feeble attempt to get Hades to move faster, I try to kiss him again but my eyes are half lidded and his fingers are so close. I graze his cheek instead. Hell just smirks at me.
Air rushes around us and the scenery shifts to an extravagant bedroom I have never been in before. Hades rests me on to the edge of the bed and his fingers press an increment further. I groan, but his hand moves away.
He is looking down at me, admiring god knows what. Never good with patience, I shrug off my robe. I'm already breathing so hard, I didn't realize it when he was still so close to me. My heart won't slow down.
Hades leans over me and I let my body slump so that I'm laying flat on the bed. He starts kissing my neck, slowly and carefully at first but as the kisses travel down my chest they become more urgent. I feel his tongue swirl around my nipple and I curse again. My arms go around him, pulling at his loose tunic until I can see his pale shoulders in the dim light. Hell starts talking to me.
"You have no idea," he pauses, slurping at my skin until I moan, "how long I have wanted to do this."
"Nn... Do what?" Pretending to be coy doesn't work so well when hell himself is licking up and down your body. I hold back another moan. "Torture me?"
He's going so slowly, no one will believe in us anymore by the time he gets to my cock. My cock which is throbbing and almost painfully hard, building pressure at the head. I watch him slide his tunic all the way off. Finally. Hades' cock is longer than mine, not as thick but so hard it doesn't matter. I want him to fuck me, but I am beginning to fear he won't at this pace.
Hades laughs against my stomach. His kisses change direction, so he's going back to towards my parting lips.
"Hades...," I try to make it sound like a complaint, but it comes out a moan.
"Touch you, kiss you," Hades sucks harder at my collarbone. A weak spot. I buck my hips into his, grind with a delicious speed against his cock and then it's my turn to elicit moans. "Fuck you into the mattress if you let me."
My turn to laugh, too. "You think need to ask permission to fuck a sex god?"
He growls and I nearly come from the sound alone, it's so low. Like having sex with a wolf. His eyes finally are level with mine and I kiss him first, forcing my tongue inside before he has a chance to resist. Hades' mouth is hot inside, even more so than the cock pressing up against my naked thigh.
He moans into my mouth when I wrap my legs around him again, pulling him closer.
Hell's expression is like nothing I've ever seen before. For a moment, I remember the stories again-- the ones about him eating hearts whole. His eyes are almost black now and I don't know if I have a heart to offer, but I'd give it over willingly if I do.
His cock is rubbing against my entrance and my head goes back against the sheets. Hades reaches over me for a silver amphora while I kiss his neck. He smiles down at me when he has the pitcher in hand, carefully pouring oil on our legs. The scent of juniper overtakes my senses.
Then he's grinding into me again. This time, I feel the head pressing against my taint.
"O-oh god." He's pushing in, my mouth stays open but all I can manage are shallow breaths. A few more inches, more moans. One's from him.
Hades raises his hips slightly, thrusts again, and he's all the way in. I might have moaned his name, but I can't remember because he doesn't wait. He's pulling out so slowly, thrusts in sharply. Again and again, in and out. There's a fullness in this I have never know before and it feels so fucking good.
My gasps turn to moans to lust-dipped sounds. Hades pushes so far inside that I can't think. The king of hell is fucking me and I'm trying to kiss him. My teeth drag along his lower lip, he shoves in further.
I can't help myself. "Harder."
Hades swears in my ear and goes in faster, harder. Deeper. I choke on my moans.
Pressure's building. His cock has gotten even harder, slick with the juniper oil, and I know he's close when he groans into another kiss. This time our tongues meet, mate, maybe they fuck, too. Hades pulls almost all the way out and then slams back into me.
"Anteros." I come with him; all I see are flashes of white and then a monstrous red.
He's still inside me and we're both panting so hard we'll never get our breath back. Slowly, Hell pulls out and there's come leaking on to my open thighs. Hades slides down the mattress. What the hell is he-- oh god. That hot tongue again, lapping against me. Almost inside, then he's there, too, cleaning up all the come. My hand flies up to my mouth, I'm biting on fingers to stop the vulgar sounds I'm making. Hades' tongue darts inside me again, goes even further. My entire body jerks forward. The sensation makes me surrender, I'm moaning louder than I ever have.
He's finished too quickly, but Hades returns to my raw lips. When I kiss him, I can taste it. Sea-come. I smirk into his mouth.
---
I don't remember falling asleep, but now I am waking up and Hades has his arm around me. I'm not accustomed to waking up with someone, not anymore. When I look up at him, I see he is already awake. Hades is regal; all sinews of elegant flesh and shaman eyes. He's smiling at me and I don't have to think before I'm smiling, too.
---
We're always together; bathing in extravagant steam-filled rooms, talking for hours while we walk around the palace, living off of ambrosia and each other's company. I don't know how much time has passed. I'm not one to keep track of a good thing when I can just enjoy it.
Hades, though, I suppose has been keeping track because there is something extremely deliberate and planned when he finally asks.
---
"When are you going back to your brother?"
We're lying on the canopy bed again. I'm curled into his side, but now I sit up and sigh. It makes sense, I suppose, that Hades is so aware of time. For selfish reasons, though, I wish that even Hell could forget himself once in a while. All the same, I know I owe him a reply.
"Eros will come down here looking for me eventually. Too prideful to have anyone else do it," I say, looking at the wrinkles in our black silk sheets, "when he does that, I probably... will leave. But I will come back. If you let me."
Hades shifts on the bed, behind me and out of vision. Then his arms are around my waist. I want to lean back against him, but don't.
"If you want to return, you will always be welcome." He's being a lot better about this than I am. I can't even reach for his hand, no matter how much I want to. We still aren't talking about everything we should.
"You say that now, Hades, and I appreciate it. but you don't know if that will really be true," I say, "What if I take longer to come back than you thought I would? Take it as a rejection and are able to move on?"
"I won't move on from this." He kisses my shoulder for emphasis. I shiver, but don't give in.
"You will, you can," I insist. Finally, I turn to look at him. Eye to sunken eye, Hell looking at me like he really does believe what he's saying. Maybe he does and I am just not ready for him to. "I'm not the one you were so desperate to get."
"She hates me, Anteros. Besides, this isn't about her anyway. It's about him."
It is about Persephone, but it's also not my place to say anything. I groan, shaking my head as I fall back into the pillows.
Hades crawls over me, caging me with his arms.
"It's not about him, either." I sound tired, but I don't remember what that feels like anymore.
"Then what is it about?," Hades asks. He's being patient about this. "You act like you hate him, but you don't."
I close my eyes. It reminds me of talking about the lovers and the ones I go to punish. This is also a confession, but it's so much worse.
"When we were both very young, my brother stabbed me with his arrows." I wait, let it sink in. Hades doesn't say anything and I like not being able to read his expression, so I keep my eyes shut. "He said that it was the only way to prove I really loved him, because me being made for him wasn't good enough. Said he was too selfish-- a person just like him could never love anyone but themselves. So I let him stab me. Ever since then I have never really known if I had a choice."
The room is still. If I didn't feel his body centimeters from my own, I would think that Hades had left. Perhaps he had finally come to his sense about this whole affair and vanished like he should have done after the first night.
"Eros shouldn't have done that to you." I'd almost forgotten I was talking to a hell god, but I hear it now. Hades sounds like the echoes in some wretched eternal pit, the one you're cast into for betraying those to whom you swore yourself.
"No, probably not, but I let him."
"Anteros." I open my eyes because of the admonishing tone. It doesn't suit Underworld's king. "You don't have to go back to him at all." Hades moves light hair out of my eyes and smiles softly. He understands what no one has ever understood.
"I know. But can you forgive me if I do?"
He leans down and kisses me. My arms wrap around him and I get my answer with a thousand more kisses.
--
When Love appears in the dark realm of hell, he doesn't apologize to me. He just says he was worried and wanted to make sure I wasn't being held down here against my will. I say I'm fine so he spirits me away from the Underworld before I have a chance to say good-bye.
Back home, the fountain is still filled with wine, but it tastes like poison to me.a