The Path to Victory

A/N: This is the final chapter to go, people. If you have enjoyed this story, my co-author and I would appreciate a review, good or bad.


Chapter 23

Once a decision had been made, Zeus declared the council adjourned, announcing that they would gather again the following day to plan the practical details of creating their new subjects. Hades wanted to ask his brother if Zeus required him to stay with his family overnight, but both the lord of Olympus and his wife were gone before Hades could approach them with his question.

He lingered long enough to watch Hephaestus approach Hestia’s seat and offer his weakened aunt help descending the rather steep steps. The way the deformed young god’s thick, sun-burned arms closed around Hestia’s thin, frail form and easily lifted her down only to place her safely on the floor made Hades think that despite his unfortunate appearance, the son of Zeus and Hera truly had a good heart.

Hades approached his sister, and just as he reached her, Hestia started coughing again. She gestured at him to stay back for as long as the coughing spell lasted, and when the goddess was finally able to breathe again, she looked sicker than ever. Sympathetic to her plight, Hades offered her his arm, which she gratefully accepted, as walking alone seemed to sap at her strength nowadays.

“How long have you had this illness, Hestia?” he asked quietly as they left the throne room together.

“Three years, perhaps slightly longer,” she replied. At least that was as long as she’d had the cough, and it was really taking its toll on her, especially during the winter months. In the beginning it wasn’t so bad, but as Hestia had feared, her condition was slowly deteriorating.

“Is there nothing that helps? With Demeter’s knowledge of herbs, there must be something that…”

Hestia interrupted her brother. “Sometimes when the cough gets truly bad, elecampane roots helps me breathe more easily. Aside from that…” She sighed. “There is not much to be done.”

“If Zeus is right, we can make you recover,” Hades said. “If the prayers of mortals can stop us from aging, they can also cure your illness.”

“One can only hope,” she muttered, barely managing a smile. She looked up at her brother’s face and reached out to touch his cheek, asking how he fared, but the god of the underworld instinctively winced, avoiding her contact.

“I am certain my illness does not spread,” Hestia insisted, a sense of hurt in her eyes at her brother’s response.

“I assure you your sickness is not the reason I pull away,” Hades interrupted her in apology. “Forgive my poor manners. I do not mean to offend.”

“Do not worry so, dear sister,” Poseidon said as he approached his two siblings, overhearing their conversation. “Hades thinks himself monstrous from his stay in the Underworld.”

“Because it is true,” Hades grumbled irritably. “I fail to understand how neither of you recoil from my appearance, which for all my knowledge is permanent.”

“Perhaps it will fade when we become immortal, brother,” Hestia advised.

Hades crossed his arms, shrugging for his sister’s sake but inwardly refusing to believe her. Their conversation had come to an uncomfortable standstill until Demeter arrived, escorting their sister away, likely to somewhere peaceful, so that the weakened goddess could rest. Hades watched his sisters leave with regret. Why would sickness take hold of Hestia, of all creatures on Gaia’s green surface?

“Perhaps we should find our own place of quiet,” Poseidon offered, jarring his older brother from his reverie. “Out of the way of our… brother and his wife…”

Hades sighed, not having forgotten Hera’s reaction to him during the council. Now it had indeed been confirmed that his eldest sister still harbored a grudge against him even after all these years.

“Perhaps I should take my leave, Poseidon,” Hades said hesitantly. “Zeus summoned me here for the council, and now that it is over and done with, my presence might not be welcome anymore.”

“Nonsense,” the younger god objected, wrapping an arm firmly around his brother’s shoulders. Hades felt awfully meager even under his thick, voluminous robes. “Stay until tomorrow, at the very least. We should all be present when our brother makes his first attempt at creation.”

“Where do you propose I go? I have no quarters here, and I do not wish to be in anyone’s way.”

“I’d be honored if you would share mine,” Poseidon replied. “I have plenty of room, as I’m sure you know.”

Hades looked up at his brother in surprise. Poseidon was trying his best to sound casual about the offer, but Hades could detect sufficient emotion in the sea god’s voice.

“Please, brother,” Poseidon nearly begged. “It’s been such a long time since we last spoke.”

Hades did not look into his brother’s eyes. He did not want to know what he would find there. The desperation in the younger god’s voice was enough.

“Fine,” the elder god said, “I would enjoy a glass of wine too, if you have it.”

Immediately there was a spring in Poseidon’s step that was not there before, not when the gods had entered the throne room and discussed what would be done about their plight. He was clearly happy to be in his brother’s company. Admittedly, Hades felt a little better in Poseidon’s company in kind.

Poseidon’s quarters were far from those of Zeus and Hera. A waterfall thundered just outside the window, a perfect reminder of the god’s beloved ocean home. Though it was loud, the ruckus was strangely not deafening within Poseidon’s chambers.

“I do have wine, do not be alarmed,” the god of the seas said, a chuckle nearly present in his voice.

Nothing it seemed could presently vex the younger Olympian. Hades wanted to find that joy infectious, but all he could think of was when Zeus would decide to enter without warning, demanding the god of the dead should return to the Underworld.

“Sit, relax, brother,” Poseidon said, waving to his bed. A chalice of wine was handed to Hades once he had complied, and he eagerly drank, though he quickly thought of the last time he had indulged himself and reminded himself to show a little self-restraint.

“How does the realm of the dead treat its king?” his younger brother asked, joining him on the bed.

The frown that appeared on Hades’ face made Poseidon wish he had never asked his question.

“Isn’t it obvious how the Underworld has treated me?” Hades muttered, still scowling, setting his half-empty chalice aside. “Already I look a thousand years old.” He let his gaze wander over Poseidon’s figure, scrutinizing his brother from head to toe. “I am not that much older than you, and one could think I was your father.”

“Nonsense,” the younger Olympian said, reaching out to take Hades’ hand in his. The sharp, protruding bones covered by cold, clammy skin briefly made Poseidon picture himself holding a corpse, but he quickly pushed the image out of his mind and internally berated himself for conjuring it up in the first place. Hades certainly was no corpse; he was simply chilled, and Poseidon could remember his brother was always bothered by the cold, even before he went to the Underworld.

“I look even worse than Hestia, even though she is ill and I am not,” Hades whispered. “Perhaps I should be the one succumbing to illness rather than her. She has never done anything to deserve such pains.”

“And neither have you,” Poseidon assured his brother, edging closer to him. “For what it’s worth, I still think you are beautiful.”

He reached out, slowly and carefully, to touch his brother’s hair, giving Hades time to object if he did not desire the contact. Oddly enough, no objection was raised, and the younger god brushed the dry locks back to gain a better view of the other’s face. Hades’ cheeks and eyes had become even more hollow, accentuating his sharp bone structure, particularly his cheekbones. His face was a pallid and gloomy sight, but it was in no way repulsive, and Poseidon had to admit he was still just as attracted to Hades and desired him in his bed. On a whim, he leaned even closer to kiss his brother.

Hades stiffened when he realized what Poseidon was about to do, and he winced under the touch of his brother’s lips, but otherwise he did not rebuke. Feeling encouraged, the god of the sea placed a hand over the elder god’s cheek, turning the pale face toward him. Hades did as wordlessly directed but reeled back when lips brushed against his own.

“What are you doing??” he snapped, standing up and holding out a hand to limit Poseidon.

Accepting a gesture of comfort was one matter, but he refused to believe that his brother would be so willingly intimate with him.

Poseidon looked up at him with wide, guiltless eyes. “I wanted to help you. You’ve been so sad and…”

“You don’t need to humor me to stop my incessant whining.” Hades glared at his brother, convincing himself that Poseidon could feel nothing for him now but pity. He was a repulsive sight, and the younger god was only doing him some kind of half-hearted favor at the most.

“Hades,” Poseidon quietly reprimanded his fellow god, standing and taking the resistant form in his arms. Though Hades quickly stopped struggling against his hold, he remained stiff as a statue against him, refusing to look at the younger Olympian’s face.

“Do not think of me as less than I am,” Poseidon said. “I am not Zeus, trying to keep Hera under his control. We have been apart for so long, but I still desire you as much as I did when we first made love. My feelings for you have never changed.”

“For some reason, I really find that difficult to believe…” Hades muttered, glaring up at his brother. “You have moved on, Poseidon, just as you were supposed to. You have forgotten about me, and I would like it to remain that way…”

Hades had to turn his face away to hide the tears that were forming in his eyes. He knew, of course, that Poseidon would move on and take other lovers in place of him, and he had made himself a silent vow not to dwell on it. Up until now, Hades thought he had managed fairly well.

A warm hand gently grasped him by the jaw and turned his face toward Poseidon, forcing him to meet his brother’s gaze. There was sympathy and love in those eyes, and to Hades’ surprise, no pity.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” Poseidon admitted. “I still love you, and believe me when I say I still think about you several times a day, even after all these years apart.”

Hades lowered his gaze, torn between the desire to reciprocate his brother’s feelings and the urge to keep his distance from something that would only end up causing him more pain. He had not lain with anyone since their last time together, in his Underworld, and that was so long ago that Hades had practically forgotten about having sexual urges.

“Please allow me to express my love…” Poseidon whispered, bending down to give his brother another kiss on the lips. Hades did not recoil this time, and the god of the seas grew bolder, letting his hands explore the other’s body, sliding downward.

“No…” Hades said, but his resolve was quiet, feeble. He covered his face with one hand, desperate to resist the pleasure which was now growing warm within him. The elder god had convinced himself long ago he would never feel that sensation again, and yet here it was, getting stronger by the second. Its heat practically burned with every touch. He still wanted to believe they should remain apart, but that damnable feeling… The love in Hades was not dead as he had previously thought.

“Shall I stop?” Poseidon asked, bringing his brother out of his daze.

Swallowing, Hades looked up at the younger god. Moments later, he leaned forward and kissed the other, just above the corner of his mouth. Poseidon smiled, but thin hands took him by the jaw and pulled him in, guiding his lips to the exact same place on Hades’ visage. The sea god heard a soft little moan at his ear, felt fingers pulling at the hem of his robes.

He allowed Hades to pull away at the first layer of robes, tilting his head to the side as he felt hands push aside the neckline, lips kissing at a now bare shoulder. Poseidon affectionately flattened his palm against Hades’ hollow cheek, and began to remove his brother’s own robes.

This was when Hades froze again, grabbing back a handful of his clothes. “Can’t we do this clothed?” he muttered, color rushing to his insipid face.

Poseidon smiled, stroking at his brother’s hair. “You needn’t be afraid of exposing yourself to my sight. After all, it is nothing I’ve not seen before.”

“You think so…?” Hades asked morosely.

Poseidon frowned at the words, suddenly concerned. Was there a reason why Hades was wearing such thick, heavy clothing, besides the obvious one which was protecting himself from the cold?

“Don’t be ashamed of your body, my dear brother,” the younger god said, affectionately touching Hades through his robes. His brother seemed thin – perhaps even thinner than he used to be – but otherwise his form felt familiar to Poseidon. “You will be beautiful to me, no matter what. Please trust me.”

This time when he made an attempt to remove Hades’ clothes, the other did not actively resist, but his body remained taut and unresponsive to Poseidon’s caresses and attempts to make him relax. Slowly undoing the fastenings of the elder god’s robes, he slid them over Hades’ shoulders, leaving his brother dressed in naught but a semi-transparent undershirt, which confirmed Poseidon’s earlier suspicions: Hades had indeed grown thinner, and the gap between his thighs made this all the more apparent.

Noticing his brother’s scrutiny, the god of the dead wrapped both arms around himself, wanting to hide his miserable form from Poseidon’s view. Did his brother still want him now that he could plainly see what Hades had become?

“Don’t do that…” Poseidon pleaded, pulling Hades against himself. “I want to see you, and I want you to be comfortable with my seeing you.” He reached behind Hades for the hem of the shirt, starting to pull it up.

Hades’ breath came unevenly, but he allowed his brother to continue, though it frightened him to think what might be said in response to the sight of him completely unclothed. Perhaps then his fears would finally be confirmed…

Gently, Poseidon negotiated the undershirt around his fellow god’s rigid arms, removed it completely, and tossed it aside, a wordless sign that he would not be obscuring his brother’s body anytime soon. Stepping back to take all of the god’s naked form into his vision, he looked at every detail. Even with skinny arms folded to the elder Olympian’s chest, Poseidon could clearly see protuberant ribs. In fact he could see most of Hades’ skeleton, though not nearly as easily as he could in those final hours of his pregnancy with the Kraken. Looking down beyond jutting hips, Poseidon noticed several bulging blood vessels in the pair of beyond slender legs.

“Not a pleasant sight, is it?” Hades said, his gaze distant and unfocused, his hair had fallen in front of his face, something he did not bother to adjust. Poseidon stepped forward once more and cupped his brother’s jaw, bringing his face upward in order to kiss him. Their lips remained joined for several seconds. Both sets of eyes were closed as the gods enjoyed the kiss, and thus Poseidon did not notice a tear falling down Hades’ face.

Hades was quick to wipe it away, hoping his brother had been too preoccupied to notice. Poseidon’s arms around him felt heavenly, and the solidity of their embrace were beginning to convince even the doubtful god of the Underworld that his brother truly did not mind his miserable appearance and desired him for real.

Poseidon, however, was still clothed, and Hades longed to feel bare skin against his own. Almost impatiently he tugged on the remaining robe the other wore, and Poseidon complied, letting his brother pull the garment over his head, which left him just as naked as Hades himself.

The older god stepped back to regard Poseidon’s unclothed form, expecting his brother to look hardly different from last time he laid eyes on him. Hades, however, now saw something he had so far overlooked. While he himself had lost weight, Poseidon had instead gained. The change was not big enough to look obvious through his robes, but the sea god now had a noticeable paunch which had replaced his previously flat stomach.

Before he could control himself, a small giggle escaped Hades, and he quickly put a hand over his mouth in response.

Poseidon was at first puzzled, but quickly realized the reason behind his brother’s laughter. Looking down, he regarded his belly.

“Ah yes, I had forgotten you did not yet know about this,” he said, placing a hand over the source of the elder god’s laughter, as though to hide it from ridicule.

“Don’t,” Hades said, stepping forward and pressing himself close to Poseidon. He could not believe he had not felt the difference when his brother had embraced him earlier that very day. “I was only surprised,” he continued with a smile, kissing what he was now certain had to be a fuller cheek. “I did not realize your age had caught up with you in such a way.”

“Oh yes?” Poseidon replied, feeling a faint heat reach his face when he felt a thin hand flatted against his stomach, fingers spread. “And does it not make you think any less of me?”

“Better than resembling a skeleton,” Hades said, and he quickly placed his fingertip against Poseidon’s lips to silence him before he could speak. The hand remaining on his brother’s front drifted lower until it reached an already growing organ. The rhythm of Poseidon’s breath increased in speed, and he wrapped his arms around the older god’s frame.

Hades smiled, sharing another kiss. “Now… where were we?”

Poseidon motioned toward the bed. “Perhaps we ought to…?”

His brother only gave a slightly secretive smile and then asked Poseidon to close his eyes. Wondering as to the reason for this but not bothering to ask, the sea god did as requested, thinking he would humor Hades just this once.

Smooth, cool hands passed over his torso and finished by loosely grasping his now erect member, giving it a few casual strokes. Then nothing happened for several seconds, and Poseidon was starting to fear that his brother had gotten second thoughts and left the room altogether.

“Hades…?” he inquired, almost ready to open his eyes and see for himself when the other’s actions took him by complete surprise. Poseidon felt his phallus being incased in a warm, wet cavern, and his eyes immediately snapped open at the incredible sensation, forcing him to look down to make sure he was not imagining things.

Hades was on his knees on the floor, one hand on his brother’s thigh for support and the other one gripping the base of Poseidon’s erection as he guided it into his own mouth and sucked vigorously, as if attempting to drain the sea god of his vital fluids.

Poseidon could only stare dumbly at the sight before him, grateful that he could least see past his belly to enjoy the sight of Hades stimulating him. Soon the sensation became too much and he staggered backwards the very moment his brother paused in his ministrations. His mouth slack as he felt the younger Olympian pull away, Hades watched the other sit down on the bed, legs still spread.

“Have I done anything wrong?” the god of the dead asked, confused.

Poseidon held out a hand as though to keep any worries at bay, and he shook his head. “None at all…” he said breathily, “It felt… wonderful.”

Hades gave a modest smile. “I realized I had never returned the favor of what you had done so many years ago. Do you remember that day?”

Poseidon grinned, his hand gesturing for his brother to come closer and continue the delightful stimulus. “Of course. Come here.”

Thin fingers lightly curved over the younger god’s thighs, Hades closed his mouth over the still erect organ once more, suckling like a calf from its mother’s teat. He could hear gasping and sighing above him and surmised he had to be doing well. In truth, Hades was giving pleasure by mouth for the first time in his life, and though he was careful, he could not keep all precautions in mind. He felt a shudder against his touch and a hand passed through his hair.

“Careful…” Poseidon said, his breath labored, “… with your teeth… oh my… but keep going…”

Hades nodded, and would have laughed at the mental image of his response were his mouth not full. Instead he increased the speed of his motions, mindful of his teeth against the sensitive member. He was positive he could make his brother climax within mere seconds now, but the hand on his head tightened its grip for a brief moment, not enough to cause pain, but strong enough to get his attention.

“Not… yet…” the sea god grunted. “Don’t want to… just yet…”

Hades tilted his head and looked up at Poseidon, silently questioning what his brother wanted. The marble floor was getting cold beneath his bare knees, and while he enjoyed pleasuring his fellow Olympian, he would not mind finding a more comfortable position soon.

Poseidon brushed back Hades’ hair from his face, trying to show with gentle caresses that his brother had absolutely not done anything wrong.

“Come here…” he coaxed, grasping Hades’ hands and pulling the smaller god toward him, until Hades was comfortably seated on his lap, his bony backside resting on Poseidon’s thighs. Though Hades enjoyed the close proximity to his brother, he couldn’t help but still feel slightly insecure. He must have done something wrong to make Poseidon interrupt him like that, before he could give him a release.

“The only reason I asked you to stop… was because I didn’t want to spill my seed in your mouth,” Poseidon explained while he caressed the other’s thin legs, ignoring the bluish, protruding veins that had emerged in places. “I would like to come inside you, if you would let me. Will you let me take you, Hades?”

Color came to Hades’ hollow cheeks and he averted his gaze, the two gods’ close proximity allowing him to nuzzle against the junction of Poseidon’s neck and shoulder.

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” he whispered. “And you are certain that you would desire so?”

At the angle at which Poseidon could face his brother, he was unable to kiss his cheek, so he kissed the other god’s temple. One of his hands reached between them and touched Hades’ chest. He felt gooseflesh rise beneath his touch.

“Of course.”

Hades began to kiss the length of his brother’s neck, his lips traveling to Poseidon’s cheek. “I thought you might have found far more enticing companions since our separation,” he smiled slyly. “I would hope you had, anyway. I never forbade you to remain without to warmth of another…”

“I am only a god after all,” Poseidon chuckled. “Perhaps not as bad as our brother…” His tone became serious again as he pulled Hades away, despite how satisfying his kisses were, in order to look into his eyes. “I have taken others when my desire demanded it. But they were never the same as when I made love with you.”

Hades allowed himself a smile, believing his brother’s words. Poseidon always was a part of those moments when the elder god was truly happy, however few those moments were.

“Awfully sentimental for a merciless god of the seas.”

“I save all my sentimentality solely for you, dear brother,” Poseidon smiled back and reached in between Hades’ legs, grasping his yet mostly soft phallus. For a moment he actually feared that his brother had lost the ability to perform, but soon it turned out his fears were unfounded. The elder god’s member swelled and hardened in his grasp, and Hades moaned softly at the stimulus.

After another quick kiss to his lips, Hades was placed on his back in the large bed, and his legs were gently spread by his brother, who continued his loving caresses to assure Hades’ comfort.

“Are you relaxed, brother?” the sea god asked, wetting his fingers with saliva before applying gentle pressure to his brother’s entrance. Aware that Hades had not been penetrated for a very long time, he kept his movement slow and careful even as his digits, first one and then two, slid into the older god’s narrow channel.

Hades jolted when Poseidon’s fingers brushed that special spot within him, and he even made an attempt to push against the intruding body parts to experience that feeling again.

The younger god could only smile. “I believe you are ready for me now,” he declared, withdrawing his fingers and reaching into his bedside drawer for the vial of oil he stored there.

Hades simply hummed in agreement, absently reaching between his legs to stroke his erection as he watched his brother prepare himself for their union. Eyes closed, he felt a hand, slick with oil, insert two fingers once more into him, likely an extra precaution to make the experience as comfortable as possible. Poseidon slathered the oil onto his erect phallus, nearly purple in its rigid, throbbing form, and leaning over his brother, kissed Hades’ forehead before replacing the penetrating fingers.

“Ah…” Hades moaned, his chest heaving as he felt every inch of the other god’s organ enter him, his muscles tightening as if to encourage the pleasure which was climbing up from his loins and into the outermost reaches of his body.

Poseidon smiled, beginning to move slowly as he thrust into Hades, and the arousal was nearly overwhelming. He so deeply wanted to collapse against the older god, to rub against him as he plunged harder and harder, but Hades’ body looked so fragile that he dared not put his weight upon him.

Hades’ cries were beginning to get louder with each breath, and his thin hand remained on his own phallus, stroking it as his brother relentlessly drove himself into the older Olympian’s tight heat. He ached for release, that powerful fire which would burn both of them.

In that very moment, Poseidon’s pumping shaft managed to brush against Hades’ pleasure spot, and the god of the dead responded by arching his back and tightening the legs wrapped around his brother’s hips. He was close now, and Hades practically saw starbursts behind his closed eyelids when he finally climaxed, splattering the essence of his pleasure over his own stomach and chest.

He was barely even aware of Poseidon’s final, powerful thrusts into his body before the sea god followed him, crying out and filling Hades’ insides with his sticky release. Though he would have wanted the physical connection to last, Poseidon deliberately pulled free from his brother’s grasp and then proceeded to collapse beside him rather than atop him, not wanting to burden the smaller being with his weight.

Hades, still gasping for breath, felt empty at the loss of contact and quickly rolled onto his side, snuggling up against his brother, whose strong arms wrapped around him almost immediately. Hades felt a kiss being planted onto his crown and in turn smiled against the skin of Poseidon’s chest.

“I really missed you…” he whispered, barely loud enough for the sea god to hear.

“Mmmn,” Poseidon ran his fingers through coarse locks of gray hair. “When you said that we could never reunite, never love one another again… I hoped against everything that it would not be true.”

The memory made Hades’ smile fade, and he nuzzled against his brother, eventually kissing him as though apologizing. “After all these years, I cannot even hold my own vow,” he said. “The lord of the dead, going against his own oath…”

“I’ll forgive you,” Poseidon replied, giving Hades another kiss. He removed his hand from the strings of hair, feeling its oily nature. The poor god likely did not have much of a chance to truly clean himself in such a musty, filthy place like the Underworld. “You ought to have a bath while you’re here,” he suggested, pulling some hair aside to stroke at his brother’s neck. “We could use my bathing pool. I could wash your hair if you so desire.”

“What difference would it make?” the god of the dead asked, absentmindedly tracing his fingertips along Poseidon’s belly. “The moment I return to my domain, such efforts will be all for naught.”

Poseidon could not quite decide if he found Hades’ recent fascination with his belly uncomfortable or not, but for the moment he decided to ignore it. His brother was slipping back into his gloomy state of mind, and the sea god wanted to prevent that no matter what.

“You’re covered in your own seed, brother,” he pointed out to Hades. “If you don’t wash it off before it dries, you will feel great discomfort the next time you wake up. We should have a bath before it’s time for bed.”

Hades sighed, knowing his brother was right but hardly in the mood to rise from bed. “I’m sure the water in your bathing pool is cold…” he muttered, continuing his exploration of his fellow god’s rounded belly. The narrow trail of hair from Poseidon’s navel down to his sex was still basically the same, and Hades busied himself by carding his fingers through it. He had one of his own, too, but Poseidon’s hair down there, like the hair on his head, was thicker and much curlier than his brother’s.

“I can make the water exactly as warm as you would like it,” the sea god replied, smiling. What Hades was doing now was starting to tickle him, and he squirmed. “Let us go, brother.” And he sat up, thus forcing Hades to sit up as well.

The god of the dead groaned out a half-hearted objection when he was pulled out bed and led by his hand toward the adjacent room.

“I promise it won’t hurt too terribly,” Poseidon said with a warm smile as he guided his brother toward the edge of the pool. Indeed the size of the room alone was impressive to house several pools, the biggest of which was located near the doorway. If Hades squinted at the water, he could faintly see holes carved into the walls beneath the surface. No doubt one could swim through them and reach one of the smaller pools without leaving the water.

Anyone who came across these living quarters with no knowledge of their owner would be able to deduce Poseidon as the resident from the bath chamber alone.

“It’s beautiful.” Hades said, and he warily took two steps into the water, feeling the coldness of it. “But perhaps it could be warmer…?”

He turned to regard his brother as he made the request, but Poseidon was no longer there. Instead the younger god was walking to the far side of the pool where the water was much deeper. Giving Hades a smile, he exhaled as though already in the water, and dove in headfirst. As the god of the dead observed his brother’s enjoyment, he felt the water lapping against his ankles grow steadily warmer. Sighing at the other god’s means of showing thoughtfulness, he shook his head and submerged himself in the now comfortable water.

“I hope this is not too much of an inconvenience on your behalf, brother,” he said as they both broke the surface. Poseidon tossed his mess of wet curls back behind his shoulders.

“How so?” he asked.

“Clearly the chill of the ocean does not cause you discomfort. Does it now that it suits me?”

“Water is water,” Poseidon said, nuzzling Hades. “It matters not to me. Don’t worry.”

Wrapping arms around his brother’s neck as he was held close, Hades was surprised not to see steam rising from the water’s surface. Still relaxed from the intense climax from minutes before, he sagged against Poseidon and rested his now rather heavy head on the other god’s shoulder. His eyes soon closed, and Hades could feel his brother pour handfuls of comfortably hot water over his head, rinsing the accumulated grease and filth from his hair.

Hades was so comfortable that he could have fallen asleep if not for one thought nagging at his mind. This would soon have to end. As soon as tomorrow, he would be forced to leave Olympus and his brother, and return to the cold, dank and desolate realm Zeus had made him lord of. The mere thought brought tears to his eyes, and though he fought hard to hold it back, a quiet sob exited him, interrupting his brother’s loving ministrations.

Poseidon, naturally concerned, cupped Hades’ head in his hands and lifted it from his shoulder, allowing him a clear view of his brother’s face. “Please, talk to me,” he urged. “What is wrong?”

“I should never have allowed this to happen…” Hades murmured in a thick, throaty voice. “Now my duties will cause me even more pain and leave me plagued by fresh memories of you…”

Poseidon wrapped his arms around his elder brother, his hold snug but gentle nonetheless.

“Shh…” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. One of his hands stroked at Hades’ hair, desperate to bring an end to his tears. Hades wept, but silently, his tears joining with the small rivulets of water running down his pale skin.

“Who is to say this is the last time?” his brother asked him, refusing to let go. “Must you hold on to such a sad promise?”

“What else can I do?” a low voice said, the elder god’s breath beating against a strong shoulder. Poseidon had gained weight on his broad form, but at least he was still physically strong. Hades did not even have that.

“Hold onto some hope,” Poseidon offered. “You tried so much to sever your connection to me, and did it help? What is to prove that this time will be any different?” The god of the seas bent his head forward as though to tell a secret into his brother’s ear. “I will always come to you, should you feel the need to call my name. Our duties may impede us from living side by side, but we are not eternally apart.”

Hades remained silent for several seconds, and he pulled away so that he could look into the younger god’s eyes, his own searching as though for deceit. “Poseidon. I love you.”

“And I you,” came the immediate response, and a kiss was pressed onto Hades’ cheek, causing the older god to smile despite his misery.

“I think… I think I would like to get up now,” he told his brother, partly because the subject matter discussed was making him uncomfortable, and partly because water was, after all, not his element, and Hades feared that prolonged exposure to water would make his already dry skin even dryer.

“Yes, you are clean now, brother,” Poseidon agreed and started walking toward the steps leading out of the pool. He did not set Hades down and instead ascended the steps carrying his brother in his arms. As soon as the two gods were out of the water, the drenched nature of their skin and hair immediately dried up, leaving only a pleasant dampness, as though the wetness was absorbed by the air around them.

“Most thoughtful of you, Poseidon…” Hades murmured appreciatively, as he was slowly carried back to his brother’s bedchamber. Due to the current unsteadiness of his legs, he was actually grateful for not having to walk.

“Goodness, you’re so light,” the younger god replied, more to himself than Hades. “Almost insubstantial. One could think you were made of a cloud!”

“Not quite,” Hades replied as he was set back down on his brother’s bed. “But I live in the realm of the dead. Perhaps I have become a ghost…?”

“If only…” Poseidon mused. “It would explain why you haunt my dreams.”

Hades could not hold back a smile, amused by the poetic words. Poseidon grinned back, glad to have amused his brother.

“Tell me,” the elder god said as the younger joined him in the bed. “Have you any children?”

Poseidon glanced at his brother, eyebrows raised. “Hmm?”

“I would hope you could find others to lie with all these years,” Hades said casually. “Has it resulted in any children?”

“No… not yet anyway…” A few minutes of silence passed before the sea god inquired, “… why do you ask?”

“Only curious,” Hades answered as he avoided his brother’s gaze. “I would not have any more children, so it would make me happy to see you add to your legacy.”

“Why would you have no more children?”

A darkness came over the older god’s features as he looked in Poseidon’s direction. “I have willed myself barren,” he said.

Poseidon’s eyes emoted sadness as he considered the news, and his hand closed over that of Hades, gently squeezing. “How long?”

“Since the Kraken’s imprisonment.”

“And this was your own choice?” Poseidon asked, saddened by his brother’s decision but not outright surprised at it.

Hades nodded, accepting the comfort offered by the other. “While I did love the Kraken, at least as much as it would allow me, it made me realize I would never want children again. Besides, what kind of a place is the Underworld for bringing up a child?”

While Poseidon wanted to argue, he had to admit that his brother had a point. “We should sleep,” he said instead, hoping he could distract Hades from the current topic of discussion. “We need to be thoroughly rested for tomorrow’s gathering. Also…” He passed his hand over Hades’ inner thigh in a light, sensual caress. “I long for a repeat of what we did this evening.”

Hades pretended to be giving the proposition some serious thought, even though he longed to make love to his brother again as much as Poseidon himself. “I suppose it is my turn to take you…” he mused, lying back against the pillows and making himself comfortable. “If you’ll still let me.”

Poseidon intertwined his fingers with his brother’s. “I’d let you do anything, and you know it.”

*

Zeus entered the bedchamber he shared with his spouse and found that all the lamps had already been extinguished. Weary from the tiresome day, the king of the gods did not wish to have an accident in the dark while preparing himself for bed, so he proceeded to light the nearest oil lamp he could find, and the light offered by it allowed him to see Hera already situated between the sheets, seemingly asleep though Zeus could instantly tell she wasn’t.

“Where have you been?” Hera asked, and though she tried her best to keep her voice casual, the question reeked of suspicion.

Zeus, in the process of removing his armor, scowled at the tone in her voice. “Pacing, clearing my thoughts…” he replied. “We all have a lot on our minds at present.”

Getting free of the armor felt almost rejuvenating; while it was an imposing sight, his battle armor was anything but comfortable, especially for hours and hours on end.

“Ah,” Hera replied, her tone already mocking. “I should have surmised based on the difficulty of removing your armor alone.” She turned over, her back facing him. “Telling the truth for once? How refreshing!”

Grumbling under his breath, Zeus let the rest of his armor fall to the floor, too tired to bother putting it away properly. He could worry about the small fastenings and such once he’d had some sleep. Easing himself under the covers, the god of the heavens stretched his limbs, making himself comfortable, and glanced in the direction of his wife. He had not touched her yet, but the bareness of her shoulders peeking out from the sheets made him think she had to be unclothed. Reaching with a curious hand, he felt her naked back and smiled.

Hera did and said nothing, so Zeus took her lack of a response as a lack of rebuttal, and he edged closer to her, hand sliding around her waist and to a bare breast. Hera sighed, and Zeus squeezed, not thinking once that her sigh could have been out of annoyance instead of pleasure.

Not until a hard, intrusive organ nudged between Hera’s thighs did she finally respond. The goddess curled up into a ball, scooting away from her husband’s ministrations. “Zeus, I am far too tired.”

“I am not,” the god said furtively, and he poked at her again.

Too tired for a quarrel with her husband and brother, Hera figured that the easiest and quickest way to solve this was to let him have his way. She had never been one to deny him sex; in fact she would still take joy in lying with him, provided he would be satisfied with bedding her alone. This was not the case, and Hera’s self-esteem had suffered greatly from knowing about Zeus’ infidelities.

“Fine, do as you wish,” she murmured, turning over onto her back and spreading her legs to allow him access. The sooner this was over with, the better.

Zeus wasted no time getting on top of his wife, and within seconds, his thick, hard length had entered her. Hera held back a groan of pain; it was a dry entry, and he had – as usual – not even bothered to give her any kind of preparation. The god took most of his weight onto his own arms, but having him on top of her was still uncomfortable for his wife. Hera turned her face away and stared blankly into space rather than look at the smug, leering face of her husband.

Sex with Hera was greatly unsatisfying to Zeus. The goddess did not even pretend to welcome his attentions anymore, and her disinterest in coupling with him caused lack of arousal in him as well.

“Hera,” he said between his thrusts, “it would be nice if you could actually make an effort to enjoy this for once. I… have seen… sacks of hay that were more… animate.”

“You demanded to lay with me,” Hera said plainly, “And that is what you have received. I am too tired to take what you are giving me with much enthusiasm, especially when you don’t even take the time or care to HELP me enjoy it.”

Zeus’ thrusts lagged as he listened to his wife, and her nagging was beginning to annoy him. Frowning, he tried to pick up the pace, but Hera remained lax beneath him like a dead animal, and his frown became a glare.

“Fine,” he snapped, pulling out of her. His erection twitched as though equally annoyed with the treatment it was getting. “If you are going to simply lay there like a corpse, I’ll go find someone much livelier.”

Hera simply pulled the sheets back over her body, shooting her husband a resentful look. “Likely your plan from the beginning,” she retorted. “I am certain Demeter has not entertained you for quite some time.”

A door slammed as Zeus left the room, and considering the difficulty and time taken for his armor, Hera was not surprised whatsoever that the younger god had departed from their quarters completely naked. When she was certain she had been left utterly alone for the night, her brother’s footsteps fading in the halls, she rose from bed to extinguish the single burning lamp, wondering bitterly if this race of men would fall victim to Zeus’ lechery as well.

Zeus began to regret leaving his chambers completely unclothed, but he was not turning back now to face Hera. His erect member began to soften in the chilly night breeze, but the fire in his loins did not die out. He needed release, and he would find it.

Demeter had always agreed to lie with him when he sought her out, and he figured that this time would be no different. Headed to his sister’s quarters, Zeus’s thoughts also briefly returned to the sibling who had arrived on Olympus earlier during the day. Hades had not aged gracefully, but Zeus still had to admit he would not mind taking his older brother to bed. Perhaps decades of living in celibacy and solitude had made Hades more receptive to his brother’s attentions?

Zeus abandoned the idea as quickly as he had thought of it. Hades was not likely to willingly submit to him, and besides he did not even know where the elder god had gone.

Most likely to be with Poseidon, a voice said inside Zeus’ head. The two had probably already made love and lay peacefully sleeping in each other’s arms in this moment.

Grinding his teeth at the unwanted mental image, the god of the heavens stalked on, Demeter’s living quarters still his target. He was so caught up in the inner world of his thoughts that he did not notice the figure intercepting his path from the right before they collided head on.

“Father?” Athena’s voice said in shocked disbelief, probably at the sight of her father wandering the palace stark naked at this hour. “What’s happened to you?”

“Nothing that should cause you very deep concern, my dear,” Zeus said as he continued to walk past his daughter. As far as he was aware, she had not spotted his erect member, though how she had missed it completely escaped him. What mattered now was that he kept searching for Demeter. The last thing he needed at present time was distraction.

“Tell me,” Athena insisted, following him closely behind. “Perhaps I can be of some help.”

Zeus came to a halt, considering the offer. He had never made love to his daughter before, and he was quite positive that she had never made love with anyone. Who else would be a greater choice to introduce her to the experience than the leader of the gods himself?

Athena caught up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, a gesture of her willingness to help her father, and he felt the touch break him of his thoughts.

“No…” he said, interrupting the temptation. His thoughts were being guided by his phallus, and the thought of taking his daughter caused a chill in his heart. He respected her far too much to resort to rutting with her like a frenzied animal.

“I shall be fine, daughter,” he said, continuing on his way. “I have matters to attend which I would rather you not be a part of.”

As he spoke, he turned to regard her as he departed. He saw his daughter’s eyes widen and he knew this time she had seen what was putting him in such a hurry to leave. All she could do was stare as he hurried away, quite naked and hard, and briskly turned a corner, leaving the Goddess of Wisdom to easily construe the reason behind all she had just witnessed.

Zeus entered Demeter’s bedchamber, but to his surprise and also disappointment he found it empty. His volatile temper, fuelled by the pressing need for sexual release, made him want to vent his frustration, preferably by wrecking something in his reach.

That, however, would be a childish act of emotional instability, unworthy of an Olympian and certainly unworthy of the king of the gods. Rather than giving in to these destructive impulses, Zeus lay down in his sister’s bed and began to pleasure himself while he waited for her return.

Less than ten minutes later, he heard the creaking of a door opening and immediately following that, soft, padding footsteps and the quiet rustling of clothes. Demeter had returned, and due to the room being in darkness, she was not yet aware of her brother’s presence. The sight of the naked god stretched out on her bed when she found a light source was therefore enough to startle her into crying out.

“Zeus!” she whispered, staring at him in a way against all good manners. “What are you doing in here?”

Zeus stood up, fixating her with his piercing stare. The purpose of his visit ought to be painfully apparent from the looks of him alone. “I desire some company that my wife is unable to provide. And yourself, sister? What kept you from your chambers in the middle of the night?”

Demeter sighed, setting the lamp down on a table. “Hestia. Her consumption is getting worse, and my storage of elecampane roots and willow bark is almost out. I must descend to the Earth very soon to find more.” Plants with a medicinal use were hard to come by, and she was already struggling to give Hestia anything that helped at all.

Zeus smiled, moved by Demeter’s fierce concern for her ill sister. “Do not be so troubled,” he said, walking up to her and taking her in his arms. The goddess gratefully leaned against him. “I admire your dedication, but soon your concern is no longer needed. Hestia will recover once I have succeeded in creating our race of worshippers. Now…” His hands slid down from her back to grasp her further down. “Come with me to bed so we can help each other forget our worries.”

Demeter’s heart raced at the strength of her brother’s limbs against her. Clearly she was in no position to deny her leader of his wishes, even if she did not wish to accept. Zeus would never take no for an answer, no matter what. However, the goddess had enjoyed her youngest sibling’s advances in the past, and she was more than willing to let him take her where she stood. If one were clever enough with the god, he could provide satisfaction as though he were a fine, considerate lover to his mates. As far as Demeter knew, Zeus had no idea the pleasure he caused in his sister was all caused by her own sly manipulations.

“Yes…” the goddess said, placing her hands on his face. She could feel the lines of age beneath his eyes so easily. “Your plan will succeed. Until then, we may pass the night in each other’s company.”

Smiling, Zeus lifted his fellow Olympian in his strong arms, kissing her as he took her to bed. His large hands explored every curve, guided with Demeter’s clever influence into places which made her cry out in pleasure, and she was wet when he entered her at last. In the throes of passion, Zeus thought of the brilliance of his plan with confidence, of the strength his family might gain when the race of man was to flourish. He envisioned himself as king of all he surveyed as he came, spurting into Demeter and crying out in triumphant bliss.


To be concluded