I'll Take You For Who You Are
Zephyros
Aphrodite.
Zephyros closes his eyes and waits for the shitstorm to hit.
"Really?" Apollo says, lifting his head from Zephyros's shoulder and addressing the intruder. "I'd say it takes a lot of nerve for the Goddess of Love to interrupt a wedding night."
"I waited until you were finished," she says, sniffing as if such an accusation offended her.
Zephyros's face burns. He's thankful he's facing away from his former master's mother. After living so long under Eros's 'protection' - forbidden from partaking in the very element Eros and Aphrodite lay claim to - he has to fight the instinct telling him to pull away from Apollo and grovel at Aphrodite's feet.
His wings, currently in tattoo form, twitch under Apollo's fingers as he runs a soothing hand over Zephyros's skin. He's grateful for the touch. It keeps him grounded, firm in his decision to not quell under the goddess's spell.
"I think, Aphrodite, that you and I have a very different opinion as to what constitutes finished," Apollo says. "Spit it out then. Why are you back?"
She huffs. "I am not here for you at all, Apollo. I know a lost cause when I see it. I'm actually here for Zephyr."
Zephyros's wings spring from his back, the instinct to answer her calling too strong to resist. Apollo holds fast to Zephyros's arms, preventing him from getting up to greet her. Instead, Zephyros twists, and meets her eyes. They sparkle with mirth. "What is it?" he asks. He can't keep the worry building inside him from coming across. That Aphrodite herself would come to see him …
She waves her hand as if shooing a bothersome fly. "It seems Zeus needs you on Olympus. He sent my son to deliver the message, and then recalled that you wouldn't be able to see the messenger. As I am the mother of Anteros, he has sent …"
"I got it," Zephyros says bluntly. "He told me earlier today. I thought I wouldn't start until the day after tomorrow."
Aphrodite smirks, her eyebrows rising sharply. "Count yourself lucky Zeus is unaware of your dalliance with Apollo."
Apollo interrupts. "Marriage. Do not imagine that you will change my mind by belittling me."
Zephyros furrows his eyebrows. He's not sure what they're talking about, but there seems to be some bad blood between them.
Aphrodite's expression cools in an instant, her face growing tight, eyes flashing. "I would remind you that you two are not off the hook with me after stealing my possessions and …"
"Out." Apollo says. He sounds restrained, barely. "You came to deliver a message; you have done so. Zephyros will fly to Olympus tonight. But you will not bring up such trivial matters and use them to blackmail me."
With a flash of red and pink flames, Aphrodite vanishes.
Zephyros turns back to face Apollo. His hands are hot on Zephyros's arms. "What is going on with you two?"
Apollo shakes his head, then slumps forward, his forehead resting on Zephyros's shoulder. "She wants me to rise up and … It's not only her; Artemis has been on my case for years, Hermes, too, before he got caught helping Asclepius. I can't do it. He's torn me down so much already. I'm … I'm not even at half my old strength. I just can't."
Hot tears hit Zephyros's shoulder and drip down his chest. He holds onto Apollo's back, rubbing it again, wanting to take the pressure away, the stress. "I don't think that's true," he says, reflecting for a long moment first. "It isn't that I don't believe you. I believe very much that you are feeling overstretched. But, Apollo, even at half your former strength, I have full faith you could rise above your father. I know there are others who would have your back."
The tears stop, though Zephyros doubts his faith would be enough to drive Apollo into action. Honestly, he's lived in servitude for so long, he can't even imagine what life would be like without Zeus in control. He also doesn't particularly want Apollo taking on that role. It's one thing to fall in love with the god of the sun, of music, of healing and inspiration, quite another thing to find himself suddenly in the position of spouse to the king of the gods.
Apollo pulls his head back to look at Zephyros. His eyes are flat and dull, his face, a mask. "Do you honestly want me to challenge him?"
"Absolutely not," Zephyros says. His heart somersaults as Apollo's face comes to life at his response.
Apollo quirks an eyebrow, his lips twitching on one side. He unwinds his legs from around Zephyros's waist and scoots back on his knees. The couch transforms into a replica of Apollo's bed on Delos. "Have time for one more act of worship?"
Zephyros flutters his wings and gets on his hands and knees. He bows until his head is level with Apollo's lap and looks up at him. Apollo's cock stands hard and ready, his eyes dancing in his face. "Always, for you."
XxxX
Afterwards, Zephyros rests his eyes, Apollo's breath puffing across his chest, slow and even with sleep.
He runs his hand along Apollo's side to his hipbone, and then back up, cupping his bicep. It's so tempting to not move, to deny the time has come that he needs to leave.
Married.
He shakes his head as he forces himself to open his eyes, to scoot out from where Apollo is draped on his chest. He pushes a pillow into the space where he was, smiling down as Apollo hugs it in his sleep. That they are married still blows his mind. It breaks all the standards set by Zeus and Hera, and yet, why shouldn't they marry?
That Apollo is so serious about him as to want to father a child to be 'theirs' makes his knees go weak. If Eros hadn't happened to be there that fateful day eons ago, if Apollo hadn't insulted him, if Eros hadn't known about the enormity of Zephyros's feelings for Apollo, would they have had happier lives?
Don't think about it. There's no sense in being bitter about the past when it's beyond changing. Get on with the present, make it the better past you can look back on.
He dresses in the dark, drawing his cast off clothes from the mist and putting them on. Who cares how it looks to show up at Olympus in a tank top and shorts. They hadn't exactly given him much notice, so why should he put forth any extra effort?
Finally, unable to put it off any longer, he transforms into a warm breeze, takes one last look at the sleeping god in the bed and rushes out of the cave entrance, the purple curtain waving behind him as if to say good bye.