"Okay, at 1:00, you got a meeting with King Augeas. He's got a problem with his stables, so I'd advise you not to wear your new sandals," Phil rattled off, reading from Hercules's list of appointments, "And then there's-"
Hercules himself was in the center of the room, sword and shield in hand, a lion's pelt on his back. He felt awkward, posed so formally, but the painter who was currently inking his likeness onto a vase had absolutely insisted. Apparently, 'he had a vision'.
"Phil-" Hercules started to interrupt.
"I told you, don't move!" the artist screeched, waving a paintbrush.
"Sorry," Hercules returned to the position, and Phil continued talking.
"The DRG, the Daughters of the Greek Revolution, want you at 2-"
"Phil-" Hercules tried to get his attention again, but Phil kept talking.
"Then at 3 you've got to get a girdle from some Amazons-"
"Phil!" Hercules shouted abruptly, finally getting his attention, "What's the point?"
With that, he flung the stupid, flashy shield and sword to the side, accidently messing up the artist's painting. The artist gave a frustrated screech, scratched out the painting altogether, and stomped off.
"Keep your toga on, pal," Phil snapped at the artist, who just flung his art supplies in Phil's face in reply. Phil growled, but let the hoity toity artist stomp off, focusing on Hercules instead, "What do you mean, what's the point? You want to go to Olympus, don't you?"
"Yeah, but this isn't getting me anywhere," Hercules pulled off the lion's skin and sat down with a sigh.
"You can't give up now," Phil insisted, "We're counting on you."
"I gave this everything I had," Hercules shook his head, "And it's still not good enough."
Phil observed Hercules a moment, then crossed to sit next to him, one hand on his shoulder.
"Now you listen to me. I've seen them all, and I'm telling you, hand to Zeus-you've got something I've never seen before."
"Really?"
"Kid, there is nothing you can't do."
Before either of them could say another word, the doors burst open and a horde of shrieking fanboys burst in.
"Oh my Gods, it's him!"
"Look, Hercules, look at me!"
"No, look at me, Hercules!"
"Fuck me, Hercules!"
They converged and surrounded him, falling over themselves to be near him. Some are pulling at his tunic, trying to grab his cock, wanting a taste of him.
"I touched his member!"
"I got his perizoma!"*
"Phil, help!" Hercules managed to squeak out before they took him to the ground. Barefeet press at his face. They're all over his groin and ass.
"Escape plan beta," Phil whispered.
"Gotcha."
Phil blew a whistle to get the boys' attention, and when they looked back, Hercules was gone. In his place was a fat boy who's hard cock peaked out of his tunic, already dripping with cum.
"There he goes!" Phil pointed out the open door, "He's on the veranda!"
The lust-filled boys raced out, and Phil followed to corral them off the property. Once Phil was gone, Menel slipped out from his hiding place, closing the door behind him. Menel glanced around the empty room thoughtfully a moment, before catching sight of Hercules's sandal-clad feet just under the thick velvet curtain by the wall. Hercules was clearly shifting nervously.
He can hear the sound of fapping and heavy breathing. Hercules is masturbating with one hand and his other leaning on the side. Being swarmed by those boys really turns him on so much. He's on the brink of an orgasm.
Menel couldn't help a little smile; so cute boys turn on small-town, goodie-two-sandals, huh? It was sort of adorable, really.
"Let's see, what could be behind curtain number one?" Menel smirked, grabbing hold of the drawstring for the curtain and yanking it to reveal a mussed-looking Hercules as he squirts out his semen on the polished floor.
"Menel!" Hercules cried out blushing a brilliant shade of crimson as he saw who it was, blue eyes wide in surprise. Menel couldn't help laughing as Hercules recoiled, trying to cover himself through his torn and dissolved clothes. A large piece of his tunic is missing, exposing his hard dripping cock.
"It's all right, the sea of raging hormones has ebbed," Menel quipped, patting Hercules on the arm. His gorgeous, rock hard arm. Menel shook his head and walked towards the couch; best not to get too carried away here.
"Gee, it, it's great to see you," Hercules's flustered look quickly melted into a smile, "I missed you."
I should find a way to bottle that smile, Menel mused. You could cure cancer with a smile like that. But then, if he bottled it, it wouldn't be coming from Hercules, and Menel had a feeling that would take all the magic out of it. Who smiled like that, anyway, all genuine and bright and sweet, like he was a fucking ray of sunshine or something? And who says things like that, 'I missed you', like he meant it? Too good to be true, Menel shook his head to remind himself, they always are.
"So, this is what heroes do on their days off?"
Menel dropped down on the couch, not bothering to reply to Hercules's last comment. Whether or not he'd missed Hercules too was irrelevant. Besides, why would he miss some silly wonderboy?
"I'm no hero," Hercules deflected with a wave of his hand, following after Menel to the other side of the room.
"Sure you are," Menel shrugged, picking up one of the vases on the table beside him. It had a caricature of Hercules posing heroically emblazoned on the side, "Everybody in Greece thinks you're the greatest thing since they put the pocket in pita."
"I guess," Hercules chuckled, "It's crazy. I can't go anywhere without being mobbed."
"You sound like you could use a break," Menel purred, turning up the charm.
"Oh, well, I-"
A blush was working it's way up Hercules's neck, and Menel in no way found it adorable. None whatsoever.
"Think your nanny goat would go berserk," Menel picked up a little Phil doll from the table and squeezed it, making the eyes and tongue stick out on the word berserk, "If you played hooky with me?"
Menel shot Hercules his most charming, flirtatious smile, and took pride in how Hercules visibly faltered.
"Uh, gee, I don't know, Phil's got the rest of the day pretty booked, it wouldn't really be right to-"
"Again with the 'oh gee'," Menel smiled fondly, standing up and sauntering closer to Hercules.
"Yes, uh, yeah, I-" Hercules's blush had reached his cheeks, and he bit his lip as Menel stood chest to chest with him, coming up quite a bit shorter than the hero. Menel hooked a finger round Hercules's collar, pulling him down to his level with a feisty little smile.
"Phil, Schmil," Menel whispered seductively, his lips only a few inches from Hercules's, "Don't you want to play hooky with me?"
"Menel…"
There a long moment where they stood like that, each in the other's space, breathing the same air, their lips bare inches apart. They didn't break eye contact for even a second, and Menel couldn't help but be fascinated with the lust dark and wild in Hercules's baby blues; Hades's mission was far from his mind as he wondered what Hercules would taste like, what would his solid muscles would feel like underneath Menel's hands, free of clothing, just skin on skin in the empty room.
Hercules didn't seem like the type to talk dirty, a bit too chivalrous for it, but Menel was willing to bet he could make Hercules moan. Oh, how Menel could make him moan. Briefly he let the images play across his mind; he imagined touching Hercules in ways that made him moan and sigh and beg, for more, for harder, for Menel. How much would it take to unravel Hercules completely? How much would Menel have to play and touch and tease until Hercules just melted under his hands, Menel's name falling over his lips again and again, a prayer and a curse all in one.
"Gods, I want you," Hercules breathed, the look in his eyes not at all appropriate for all ages.
Hercules's voice was deeper than Menel had heard before, rougher, and it shot straight to Menel's groin. Menel's mouth went dry, and he was unable to remember the context of their previous conversation. He briefly entertained some of the options Hercules could have meant, and they all left him with his heart beating double time and the situation in his tunic entirely uncomfortable. He was about a split second from yanking Hercules down and aggressively claiming his mouth when Hercules promptly went bright red.
"To," Hercules hastily corrected, quickly extracting himself from Menel's grip on his shirtfront, "To, I mean, I want to. I want to, uh, play hooky, was what I meant. With you."
"Hooky," Menel blinked, trying to get his heart to restart. He was relatively sure it had jumped ship on him at some point in the whole exchange, "Right."
"Phil's out front," Hercules pointed out, "How will we get out?"
"Oh, that's easy," Menel shrugged, trying to recollect himself and failing miserably, jerked a thumb to the back window, "Out the window, round the dumbbells, you lift up the back wall…and we're gone."
"You got it." Hercules said eagerly.
"Ahem."
"Yes?" Hercules asked. Menel points down, at Hercules' current wardrobe. "Oh." he blushed.
"You might wanna change, Wonderboy." Menel stated, but personally would prefer Herc leave with him like that.
*In case you don't know, perizoma is a type of loincloth used as underwear.
