Epilogue
"Stay when you think you want me; pray when you need advice…" Apollo sang the Seether song under his breath as he flipped through a magazine. He was sitting cross legged on his bed, clad only in a towel. He had just finished showering, and his damp hair was leaving trails of water down his back.
"I always pray when I need advice," a voice said from behind him. Apollo smiled but didn't turn around, instead keeping his eyes on the magazine. "It makes me feel better," the voice continued. "Especially when I pray to the far-shooter. I think he's the smartest of all the gods. And by far the most handsome."
"Nobody's called me that in years," Apollo murmured as he turned a page. "And you outsmarted me the day you were born, if you recall."
The voice laughed. "I didn't outsmart you. You were just too busy chasing girls around to notice that I was stealing your cows. And even if I did outsmart you – You're still the most handsome."
"It isn't my statue that's all over Greece," Apollo reminded him. "You're so handsome that the people felt the need to look at your face twenty-four/seven."
"You know that's not the reason my statue is all over Greece." The voice grew closer, and Apollo felt a pair of arms slip around his neck. "Besides, people would line up at your temple in Delphi just to have the honor of making an offer to the mighty god of light."
Apollo leaned back into the warm body with a small sigh. "People haven't done that in millennia, Hermes." He craned his neck to look at the delicate face of the messenger herald, whose head was now resting on his bare shoulder.
The younger god smiled. "If people didn't still love us –" Quicker than a flash of lightning, he reached out and grabbed the magazine from Apollo's hands. "They wouldn't continue to tell our stories."
He held up the magazine, which happened to be National Geographic. One of the articles was on Greek Mythology. On the front cover was a bust of Apollo, which only bore a slight resemblance to the actual god sitting before him. The nose was slightly too long, the cheekbones too low, and the curly hair wasn't anywhere near long enough. Still, Hermes smiled at it fondly.
"You know I'll always worship you, right?" Hermes whispered, tossing the magazine aside and crawling into Apollo's lap.
"I don't want you to worship me," Apollo said softly. "Just love me like I love you."
"Apollo?" Hermes called out, stepping through the front door. The first thing he heard was loud music, which wasn't entirely unusual. The messenger shook his head in amusement and crossed through the living room, trying to find the blonde.
The paintings on the walls shook from the music as Hermes made his way down the hall. He peeked into the master bedroom – and instantly grinned at what he saw.
It looked as though a tornado had ripped through the room. Clothes were strewn everywhere. And in the midst of it all was the god of light, in the middle of an all-out dance. The music was so loud that it left Hermes' ears ringing.
Hermes began to laugh as the older god swung his hips and shook his head, sending his blonde hair flying in every which direction.
Apollo spun around and caught sight of his lover standing in the doorway. Without ceasing his dancing, the archer beckoned Hermes in. With an impish smile, the messenger obliged. And then the song changed.
Apollo mouthed the lyrics, swaying to the music as he ripped off his button-up shirt and tossed it over his shoulder. Still chuckling, Hermes leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, watching the show.
In one fluid motion, Apollo fell back onto his bed, landing on his side with his arms over his head.
Hermes moved off the wall and sauntered towards the blonde. He climbed onto the bed and crouched overtop of his lover, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the pale neck.
Apollo blinked up at him slowly, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks.
"We're going to be late for council," Hermes murmured, now kissing his lover's eyelids.
"You're always late for council," Apollo breathed, wrapping his arms around the messenger's neck.
Hermes smiled. "Hold on tight," he murmured, and before Apollo could protest, the two had taken flight.
A split second later…
"Oof!" Apollo gasped out – his back had made impact with what felt like a stone surface, and the weight of Hermes was on top of him. Before Apollo could tell Hermes that he definitely needed to lose some weight, a fake cough broke the silence.
Thinking vaguely that he would probably regret it later, Apollo lifted his head and looked around him. He instantly realized where they were.
Hermes had landed them right in the middle of the council's table. Several pairs of eyes were staring at the duo, some with amusement (Dionysus) and others with disapproval (Hera).
"What's going on?" the booming voice of Zeus asked. Some might consider the tone to be intimidating, but Apollo, who had known his father for millennia, could tell that the king was attempting to hide his laughter.
Then, realizing that he and the messenger were still lying in a rather compromising position, Apollo shoved Hermes off of him. The blonde was sitting directly in front of Aphrodite, whose chin was resting in her perfectly-manicured hands. When Apollo met her gaze, she winked.
"As happy as we are that you and Hermes have – um – progressed in your love life…" Apollo cringed at Poseidon's words. "We would prefer that you fornicated at home, rather than on top of the council's table."
"We weren't –" Apollo began to protest, but then stopped. It would be a lie to say that fornicating wasn't what they had been about to do. "We weren't going to do it on your table," he muttered instead.
"That's a relief," Hades said, not attempting to lower his voice. At his side, Persephone giggled. Hera clucked her tongue.
"So," Hermes said cheerfully, crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on top of the table. "What's new with everyone?"
"Zeus got elected for a second term," Athena responded, smiling in her father's direction.
"And I'm going to be on the cover of Cosmo," Aphrodite piped up. Apollo ruffled her hair affectionately, and she batted his hand away with a playful scowl.
"You know, you should really give some of those human models a chance," Hermes told her with a grin. She rolled her eyes.
"Aphrodite giving someone else a chance to have their face plastered all over the world?" Dionysus gasped, covering his mouth in fake horrification. Zeus chuckled.
"Apollo's face is plastered all over the world too," Aphrodite said with annoyance. The other gods all gazed at Apollo and Aphrodite, thought to be the two most beautiful Greek deities.
"I still think Dionysus is more handsome," Artemis finally said, teasing her twin brother. Across the table, Ares rolled his eyes. The Dionysus-is-more-attractive-than-everyone-else joke had been going on for several millennia now. Catching the look on Ares's face, Hermes began to giggle hysterically, and, as always, the messenger's laugh was contagious. Soon, the entire pantheon was laughing.
With a content sigh, Apollo leaned back in his chair. It was good to be home.
The song at the beginning of the chapter is Country Song by Seether.
