Author's Notes: Why, oh, why must Mr. Gaiman make me love his books so much? I fear I'll never be able to get over American Gods, and will spend the rest of life going through the net looking for FanFiction. Anyway, incase you're not on the up and up with mythology, Jacquel is Anubis, the Egyptian god and embalming and the dead. He had the head of a jackal (which is obviously where Jacquel came from). Ibis is Thoth, the god of writing and knowledge. He had the head of an Ibis. (I love how Gaiman oh-so slyly writes the Gods, don't you?)
Discalimer: Most of this is copyright Neil Gaiman, but the Gods are public domain. Make of that what you will.
Home
The bow of a lion's tail.
The God who called himself Jacquel loved it when Thoth traced their old language over him. Let his wet tongue swirl and swipe the symbols of their timepeoplelands over his eyelids, his mouth, his cock. Loved how he could feel the slick pink tongue scrape over his nipples, writing, always writing.
The arch of a circle.
And Thoth would gain just the slightest touch of power from this, whether it be from sharing a bed with a fellow God, or just doing what he was created to do. Jacquel could feel it; like static electricity dancing over him, so hot it was icy cold.
The bend of a snake's back.
And after he had finished preparing a body, he would go to Thoth. Would press his lips to the other God's, slide his tongue into the eager mouth, and share some of the power surge with him, fueling them both with the closure of death and the endlessness of forever beyond it. It would tingle and dance between them, let them have something to clutch onto.
The curve of a bird's plump stomach.
When Jacquel kissed Thoth, he could feel Egypt. Could taste the dark-eyed, lean people; the bright colors of the market; the solemn quiet of the temples. He would drink the Nile, her cool water, full of life and age, and feel Satis and Sobek, lap at them with his tongue.
The sweep of two feathers.
And Thoth understood this; he could taste their homeland in Jacquel's mouth as well. Felt the understanding as clearly as he did. Understanding about a place they could never go back to, the longing for something unreachable.
The two crooks of two elegant lines.
When they were in one another, he would drink in the glory of the past. When a greedy, wet hole threatened to devour a cock, when sweat-slicked copper skin rubbed against warm brown, when they both finally came, cocks weeping, smothering choked cries into one another's mouths, Jacquel… Anubis, felt home.
And I love you as well.