AUTHOR: flybynight

August 28th, 2014 - Bacchic Revelry

Arthur was surprised that anyone should come to him looking for counsel- he wasn't exactly known to be the friendliest god around. At least, not when sober. He especially hadn't expected Alfred, the god of the sun, to be the one seeking him out.

But even more surprising than even that was why: Alfred, beautifully formed and the paragon of youth and masculinity, was looking for love advice.

Somehow he had assumed that Arthur was some sort of expert, and had come running to his doorstep, looking for all the world rather pathetic. It was funny since Arthur, as the god of wine, had very little to offer in that department. That was more of Francis's expertise, or even Alfred's younger brother Matthew, who accompanied Francis on a daily basis. They were the patrons of love and passion- not booze and calamity like Arthur was.

That hadn't seemed to matter to Alfred at all.

So, he'd let the other god into his home to talk. About love. His own devoted followers- rather, rabid gaggle of females-were out frolicking in some forest nearby, so Arthur knew he had the free time. There were worse ways to spend an evening.

He also didn't hate Alfred. They weren't friends or anything, having met at schmoozing parties on Olympus a few times perhaps, but the other had seemed harmless enough. He wasn't a complete twat like some of his other "brothers and sisters".

"All right, have a seat," Arthur said, gesturing at his pile of colorful silk throw pillows and cushions. "Tell me again why you can't find someone to warm your bed?"

Alfred sat down hesitantly, folding his legs and looking down at the floor. "I... I'm not sure exactly. I guess that's why I came to you for help!"

Arthur 'hmm'ed thoughtfully, reaching for a large casket of wine before plopping down next to him. Drinking always helped him think, and it would probably help loosen the other god up- he looked far too tense. He poured them both a drink. Alfred downed his in one gulp.

"I'm the god of wine, mate. What makes you think I can do anything? Shouldn't you be talking to Francis?" Arthur asked, voicing his thoughts from earlier.

"I'm too ashamed to talk to him. And anyway, he's... weird about this sort of thing. I feel like if I told him I liked someone, he'd just go and enchant them and-"

"And that's not what you want," Arthur finished for him, raising an eyebrow. When Alfred actually blushed a little, he smirked. "So... why me then?"

"Because you- you have this huge following of girls, and I'm just... wondering how you do it," Alfred answered, looking over at him with some awe. Arthur would have laughed, but that would have been quite rude.

He took another drink and refilled Alfred's glass instead. "Do you know how many priestesses of the sun god there are around here? You have plenty of admirers."

"Yeah. Admirers. But they... don't want to be with me that way."

Arthur actually paused to look at him, to make sure he was serious.

"So I'm guessing you've already tried?"

Alfred hesitated, scratching the back of his head. "Well. ... yeah."

"Who?" Arthur asked, honestly curious.

"Well... there were a couple of nymphs... I forget their names. One of them drowned herself in a river to avoid being with me. And the other turned herself into a tree."

Arthur winced.

"And then there was this lovely demigoddess- who turned out to be a relative of mine on my mother's side, so that wasn't going to work..."

Alfred looked thoughtful for a moment. "There was also one mortal. We went out a few times, but when I tried to propose, she rejected me. ...I think she was sleeping with Ivan, that bastard. I mean come on, he's the god of freaking cold air- how do you choose THAT over the sun?!"

"I don't understand."

"You're telling me!"

This was quite the problem. Arthur swished the wine in his glass a bit more and noticed Alfred's cup was empty again. He leaned over to pour him some more. They sat in silence for a few moments.

"Do... do you think I'm ugly? Maybe that's it?" Alfred asked, timidly. Certainly not appropriate for someone of his ranking in Olympus. And from what he knew of the young god's ego, definitely out of character.

"Are you a fool?" Arthur said with a laugh. "You're the bloody god of the sun!"

"I don't know... I mean, you're..."

"Attractive, but I could never be as chiseled and cut as you are, my friend," Arthur smiled, looking up thoughtfully. "You're powerful, handsome. I don't know why the girls run from you, but humans can be remarkably stupid creatures."

Alfred's face seemed to redden a bit at the compliments. "...You have a whole group of them following you on a daily basis!"

"Yes. Frightfully devoted, they are. I should say that I do appreciate the sentiment."

"Aren't you happy?"

Arthur looked at him evenly. "It's not what you're looking for, as you've said."

Alfred sighed heavily, as if defeated. "I guess... none of us really knows what it's like. Love, I mean."

"We're gods, Alfred. We have whatever we want, screw whomever we please- well, most of us. What you're asking for is something that no one knows about, because it probably doesn't exist."

"It has to! Otherwise there wouldn't BE a god of love!"

"Ah, but how utterly dysfunctional are his relationships? Ever wondered why?"

Alfred didn't answer- he didn't have to. He hung his head, and Arthur poured him another drink. This continued on for hours, the two of them comfortably soaking up each other's company (along with a good amount of alcohol). It was rather enjoyable in its own way. Once again Arthur felt that perhaps Alfred was the least irritating of his brethren he'd ever met. At least, Arthur wasn't quite ready to kick him out yet. They traded stories, laughed together, anything to get Alfred's mind off of his predicament. Of course it wasn't long before Alfred was quite smashed. Arthur, who had the ability to choose to be drunk, decided to simply let himself go, it was more relaxing that way.

And then Alfred started crying.

"You know I... I haven't even been kissed..." he sobbed, his empty glass hanging loosely from his fingertips. Arthur cooed sympathetically and took his glass from him, handing him his own to drink from while he refilled the other. Alfred gulped it down eagerly.

"It's... it's like... I have some sort of... disease or something. I'm not ugly, am I Arthur?!"

Arthur blinked at him slowly, examining the ripples of muscle and rock hard abs, gloriously sun-kissed skin, hopelessly blue eyes of his companion, and shook his head.

"You're not."

"So... so... what's wrong with me then? I'm just... I feel so... I just want..." he choked, dropping the glass. "Arthur, I want to be loved. I want to love someone else. Is that... is that really so impossible?"

For some reason, at that moment, Arthur didn't think it was impossible at all. Just like he no longer thought it impossible that he would suddenly and violently be attracted to the other god. Alcohol could do funny things to the mind.

To stop himself from thinking, he simply put down his own glass, crawling over the pillows and kneeling right in front of the distraught Alfred. Without saying a word, he reached out to cup his cheeks. Alfred looked up at him, face flushed a bright pink, eyes red and glittering with tears. He looked so miserable. So lonely.

So delectable. Arthur had never been more turned on in his life.

"I... Arthur?" he asked, understandably, in confusion.

"Just shut up," Arthur whispered before kissing him sloppily.

They both fell back against the pillows, Arthur shifting his thigh between Alfred's legs as he pressed up against the other. Alfred hesitated for only a moment before he was kissing him back, much to the other god's delight. He was surprised that Alfred, being as scorned as he was by women (and not to mention, heavily drunk) was an amazing kisser. Arthur was not about to be outdone however, having tamed the tongues of many a wild maid. Not that Alfred was a maiden.

As he slid his hand down the sun god's muscular thigh, slipping it underneath his toga... yes, he was very much not a maiden. Arthur had never lay with a man before, but he figured if he was going to have a first time, it might as well be with the finest "male" he knew. He broke their kiss, admiring Alfred's kiss-bruised lips and the healthy flush on his cheeks that was not from alcohol alone any more.

"Looks like tonight is your lucky night, Alfred," Arthur purred, undoing his own toga and sliding the white and gold cloth off of his shoulders. It pooled at his waist, and Alfred looked up at him like a dying man in the desert staring at an oasis.

"Oh... can I..."

"Yes, you can," the god of wine whispered, leaning down again as he rubbed his lower half against the other's and brushed his lips across the shell of his ear. "Touch me everywhere."

Alfred did just that.

Perhaps they too would end up being dysfunctional. Arthur didn't know, and didn't care. From now on, he decided- he would try getting drunk on Alfred.