Got too admit, I didn't think I'd be continuing with this story, but, here I am. Maybe it's because of the season finale, or the fact that the show is now ending, but I've got some good reviews for this. I don't know for how long, or where this is going, but I will post some more chapters.

Thank you to everyone who took the time out to review this; to ValkyrieVeela who thought this was worthy of being followed, and to Bernie-chan and hazelsherlock for setting this as a favourite

The Normal Freak – if you do write anything in this pairing, please tell me, I'd love to read it

And a little personal thank you to Pythacarushobbit, great to find another lover of the pairing

One other note before we get on with things – if you are a fan of Pythagoras/Icarus, then I suggest you read "Forgiveness" by Pythacarushobbit, wonderful little story I think.

Sorry if I've garbled the story line, I'm running roughly along the same lines as the show; I just can't completely remember what happened a few weeks ago.

Alright then people, let's get on with it then.

Icarus sat alone on his bed, his head in his hands. He couldn't believe he'd done it. Sold out the man he loved like that.

Pythagoras had left that morning, to track down a man that may or may not be able to save his friend from the inner darkness. They'd spent a wonderful night together, wrapped in each other's arms, expressing their love for each other physically and verbally. The sex did bring a slight smile to his lips, but barely enough to raise the all encompassing despair he currently felt.

When they weren't fucking each other's brains out, they were talking. Talking about all the things they'd dreamed of for years; plans for the future, places they wanted to go and yet...

And yet Icarus had sold out his location to free his father from the dungeons. What made it even worse, was the fact that all the information had garnered him was the guarantee that his father would spend the rest of his lifetime in a dungeon cell. Better than being executed he supposed. But was it worth it at such a higher price?

He felt like such a fool, and the worse man alive. He'd sacrificed one person he loved, to help another. Now, that the act had been done, he regretted it. He regretted it with every ounce of his being.

Tears began to stream down his face, as he let out a strangled cry. Only now did the full gravity of the situation occur to him. He'd sold out the only man he ever loved to someone who may well kill him.

"Oh gods, what do I do?"

XXXXXX

His heart was racing.

Sweat streamed down his face, and his muscles cried out in agony.

Pythagoras had become more comfortable with the idea of combat, but not enough to give him the confidence and ease that Jason and Hercules possessed. Not to mention the stamina. The wiry mathematician had trouble keeping up with them, but the situation demanded it.

They'd been ambushed by Pasiphae's forces.

Whilst the group had fought off the attackers, they had no idea how many remained, let alone where Jason was.

For the moment, they did all they could do: stay hidden and recuperate as much as possible before they made a move. Whether that was to a safer location, or too find the now missing Jason, was another matter.

Pythagoras sat in a small cave, whilst the others investigated the surrounding area. The ground was hard, and cold, and the interior was dim. Whilst it wasn't the most welcoming of surroundings, Pythagoras relished it. The dark and the chill calmed his nerves, and helped him recover from the ardour of battle.

His mind should have been on the issue at hand, planning a next move, working out the angles. Instead, he found himself distracted. Distracted by thoughts of a certain dark haired, tan skinned man.

His Icarus; the man he'd given his heart to.

He thought about the night they'd spend together, the things they'd said, and the things they did. It brought a smile to his face, and a sharp pang to his heart.

Pythagoras was worried about him, especially after all the risks he'd been taking lately. Helping a friend was one thing, and honourable act; helping a friend against a tyrant Queen was another matter all together.

Pythagoras lowered his head, and shut eyes. He'd never been a religious man, something that often made him stand out in this world ruled by gods and magic, but this time, this time he wished for the faith others had. He wished for the simple ability to trust his fate, and those around him, to a mystical entity that may or may not exist.

Sitting in cave, thinking about the man he loved, Pythagoras did something he hadn't done in years; he prayed.

"Please gods, keep him safe, keep Icarus safe"

XXXXXX

The group had moved on, settling into what was deemed a more 'secure' location. Something that essentially translated to lots of rocks, and a depression the in the ground large enough to conceal four people.

Pythagoras had settled atop a flat rock outcropping; whilst it wasn't the most comfortable thing to sleep on, it was mostly smooth. With a bundled up cloak under the head, it could be described as comfortable. If he had taken one of his more mind altering tonics.

He'd chosen a spot a little way away from everyone else, and concealed by a large bush – with Hercules snoring, and Ariadne's near constant shifting, he needed the solitude to sleep. Pythagoras wasn't sure where Aeson was, the man seemed to huddle into a corner amongst his rags and disappear. An impressive talent, though one any member of the living dead would no doubt develop.

Lying on the cold rock surface, arms folded over his stomach, his mind began to wander. Sleep had been denied him for hours, be it from constant worry, or an all encompassing fatigue that he could not rid himself of. So he turned to his new favourite occupation – thinking about Icarus.

He thought about his soft, dark hair, and how it felt to tangle his fingers in it; the light dusting of hair on his chest, the toned stomach; the strong arms that made him feel so safe. Sun kissed skin that made his heart race, and left his mouth dry with desire.

He thought about his lips – lips that left a burning pleasure wherever they touched, a pleasure that radiated throughout Pythagoras' entire body.

Calloused hands that could make his skin tingle with the slightest touch; could make him shiver with desire when the touches became more demanding, more frenzied.

He thought about the way it felt to be pinned underneath Icarus, how his deep, slow thrusts had left him vibrating with pleasure, and the need for release. How the soft, breathless moans had felt against his ear, when it was Icarus pinned beneath him.

Pythagoras' hand strayed down, skimming over his body, until it reached the fast growing bulge in his breeches, and rubbed himself gently. He bit his lip, and slowly unlaced his lower coverings, before shimmying them down his lean legs.

The touch of the chill air on his lower regions hardened him further; a feeling that was intensified when he removed his shirt. The feeling of that light wind wafting over his nipples, turning them into solid peeks, created a tingling sensation throughout his body.

Now fully uncovered, he began to stroke himself in earnest; slow firm strokes with a slight twist at the end, further stimulating his penis.

He raised hi free hand to his mouth, and began to suckle on two of his fingers. He took them out of his mouth, and slowly trailed them down his body, leaving a faintly wet trail in their wake.

He moved his fingers down, past his now heavy testicles, towards his entrance. .

"Oh gods..." He groaned, as he slid his fingers inside himself.

The combined feeling of his fingers plunging in and out, and his steady strokes had him quivery with pleasure, his release fast approaching. And all the while, he thought of nothing but Icarus, and wished with every ounce of his being that he was here, and it was his hands evoking such feelings of pleasure.

He pace increased, hand now gliding over his penis, slick with pre-cum. His rhythm became erratic, as his orgasm build up, slowly moving to overcome him.

With a final deep thrust of his fingers, his orgasm rushed over him. His hips bucked upwards with the force of it, thick ropes of cum covering his stomach and chest; some landing in his open mouth.

His body quivered a few more times, as he rode the waves of pleasure. His heart beat slowed, and his eyes grew heavy. He licked his lips, relishing the taste of himself, though wishing it was the seed of another man.

He withdrew his fingers from himself, and remained in a boneless heap for a few minutes longer. His orgasm had taken all the remaining energy out of him, and now he wanted to do nothing more than sleep; sleep with the arms of another around him.

He took a small piece of fabric out of his pack, and wiped himself down, before redressing. He removed another item from his pack, a small gift he'd been given by Icarus. Nothing special, or even particularly meaningful, but it gave him a certain feeling a comfort.

One of Icarus's tunics, so Pythagoras always felt as if he had part of the man with him.

He turned onto his side, and brought his knees up to his chest. He pulled a cloak over himself; a dark red cloak he'd borrowed from Icarus. He didn't want to take it, but the man had insisted; just in case he was a little too cold. The gesture brought a small smile to hi face.

Pythagoras buried his head in the tunic, breathing in the scent of the man he loved, before he rolled it into a ball and held it in his arms.

"I miss you my love, I miss you so much" Pythagoras closed his eyes, and felt exhaustion wash through his body "We'll be together again. Soon."

He drifted into a dreamless, peaceful sleep, with a smile on his face.

Now, I know it wasn't technically Pythagoras/Icarus smut, but I thought a little hint of the two of them might be appreciated. Anyway, who doesn't like a masturbation scene?

Oh dear, I'm a disturbed individual.

Reviews are welcome, be they good or bad. I will be continuing with this story, for those of you who have asked