“Oooh, yeah. That was worth waiting for,” Deimos said, his
tone deep with satisfaction as he pulled out. Rolling off Strife,
Deimos stretched out on the silk covered stone, wiggling his fingers
and toes, sighing happily as all his joints popped like a
mortal’s.
“You wouldn’t believe what it took to slip away from
Discord this time. I would’ve been here hours ago, but
she’s starting to get suspicious.” He slid an arm beneath
his head. “Oh, not about us. She’d never believe
that.” He gave Strife a conspiratorial wink. “But she knows
I’ve got someone somewhere. She keeps fishing, leading comments,
trying to trip me up. You know how she is. But don’t worry, I
won’t let her find out. I’ll keep her distracted.” He
fanned out the fingers of his free hand, grinned as he waggled them
suggestively.
“I have to get back out there soon,” he said, his grin
disappearing into a disappointed pout. “I’m supposed to be
spying on Hercules, but you know how boring that is. It’s so much better here with
you.” Turning onto his side, propping his head up on one hand,
Deimos let his gaze travel slowly down Strife’s naked body.
“Hercules can only dream of being as hot as you, Cuz.”
It was a risk, he really did have to get back before he was missed; but
he couldn’t resist reaching out to touch Strife again. Sliding
his hand down Strife’s chest, his stomach; he was hard again in
seconds.
“Mmm, just one more time, a quickie. Then I really have to get
going.”
Strife’s lips were soft beneath his, parting easily for his
tongue as he moved between Strife’s spread thighs. Sliding in was
easy, oil and come slicking the way as he pushed in deep; he groaned
into Strife’s mouth, the sound echoing in the marble chamber.
Deep, slow thrusts and Deimos got a grip in Strife’s hair, held
his head perfectly still, kissing him hard enough that Deimos’
lip split against Strife’s teeth, the taste of blood welling up
between them.
“Yeah, yeah,” Deimos was chanting it under his breath,
against Strife’s mouth, over and over with each thrust, and this
was going to be a whole lot quicker than he’d though. He could
feel it already, the tingle working its way down his spine, settling in
his balls.
Tearing away from Strife’s mouth, he dropped his forehead against
Strife’s shoulder, gasping as he moved his hips faster, trying to
get deeper with each thrust, harder and harder and--
“Deimos!”
There was something very disturbing in that, coming so hard his vision
whited out while Discord’s voice still rang in his ears.
“Where are you, you incompetent moron?”
Well, at least she hadn’t figured out exactly where he was, Deimos
thought gratefully as he pushed himself off of Strife, dick sliding
free with an obscene pop that made him snort back a giggle. His legs
wobbled as he stood, the room spinning around him, but he didn’t
have time to steady himself. Discord would start going through every
building on the grounds if he didn’t turn up soon.
“I’ll be back tonight, okay?” he whispered, cleaning
and dressing them both with a flick of his fingers. He hesitated a
moment more, eyeing the row of Hephaestian-crafted blades on the wall
before grabbing the two nearest, a dagger and a short sword.
“Thanks for sharing, Cuz,” he said with a wink, even as
blue light surrounded him and he transported himself away.
He appeared right next to Discord, blades sent safely away to his own
rooms. He smiled when his abrupt presence made her jump in surprise.
She covered it quickly, one hand going to her hip, eyes narrowing into
an accusing glare.
“Where have you been?” she demanded. “Hercules got to
the village early and you
were supposed to tell me before he showed up!” She poked a finger
at his chest and Deimos recoiled back from her touch, fixing on his
most innocent expression.
“Well, he didn’t look like he was going anywhere, and I had
something else to do.” He shrugged, sliding half a step back from
her.
“Something else?” Discord’s eyes narrowed further.
“Or someone else?”
She sniffed at him pointedly. “You smell like a brothel.”
“Really?” He blinked curiously. “So...if you know
that, it’s because you spend a lot of time in them, hmm?”
Discord bared her teeth and Deimos didn’t duck back quickly
enough. He found himself nose-to-nose with her, her hand gripping the
front of his shirt tightly, nails tearing through the thick leather.
“Now, Deimos,” she said in an overly sweet tone,
“tell me who she is. Who in the pantheon -- in all of Greece -- would ever touch you?”
“Well,” Deimos glanced down, “you are.”
Making a disgusted sound, she shoved him away. “It’s one of
the Gorgons, isn’t it? Or a harpy. Maybe one of those slimy fish
people of Poseidon’s.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Deimos straightened his
leathers with a quick jerk, the tears sliding closed seamlessly.
“You’re only slightly less repulsive than any of them, so I
could see that -- not that I ever want
to.”
“Oh, stop denying it, Discord, I know how you really feel about
me.” Deimos slid next to her, giving her an adoring smile.
“Ugh!” She pushed him away.
He staggered back with a giggle.
The flash of familiar blue light announcing Ares’ arrival stopped
any further “discussion” of the matter. The rumble of
thunder that accompanied him, however, put the entire issue to rest for
the moment. Discord would pry at him later, Deimos knew that and
he’d be ready for it, but right now it looked like they had more
important things to worry about.
“When I find out who keeps doing this, I’ll stick their
heads on poles outside the entrance!” Ares said with a snarl of
mixed frustration and anger, swinging his sword in an arc that would
easily cut through a mortal’s neck.
“It happened again?” Deimos frowned.
“They stole two of the best weapons and tripped the wards when
they left,” Ares said. “I just missed them!” He drove
the point of his sword into the stone floor, the screech of metal
against stone loud enough to make Deimos wince.
“So it’s more than one, you’re sure?” Discord
asked, resting her hands on her hips.
“It has to be.” Turning away from the quivering sword, Ares
threw himself into the wooden throne, slouching down.
“There’s no way one mortal could get past all those wards
and traps we set.”
Autolycus?” Discord offered.
“Not even him.” Ares dismissed it with a curl of his lip.
“Well....” Tenting his fingers, Deimos looked at Discord
thoughtfully. “What if he wasn’t working with another
mortal? What if he had help? Like...Hermes, maybe?”
“They aren’t speaking after that thing with Hermes’
sandals,” Discord said, waving away the idea.
“Or maybe they want us to think that.” Ares stood up. A
snap of his fingers and his sword pulled itself out of the floor and
flew into his grasp. “I’m going to have a little
‘talk’ with Hermes. You two, stay.” He ordered,
pointing at them. “When I get back, I want a full report on how
the attack on the village went.” He vanished in a bright flash.
“Woof,” Deimos said under his breath.
“I’m certainly not
taking the blame for this. You
get to explain why it went wrong,” Discord said, crossing her
arms.
“Oh, I’ll think of something...creative.” Deimos
shrugged.
She just snorted in disbelief. Shaking her head, she walked up to the
throne and reached down to brush off imaginary dust. “It
can’t be Autolycus. But then, who else would dare?” she
mused as she sat down. Resting an elbow on the throne’s arm, she
braced her chin on her palm. “Robbing a god’s temple is one
thing, but this is something else.” She blew out a long breath,
brow creasing in a thoughtful frown. “It’s not like they
could sell anything they’ve stolen; everything in there is
marked, dedicated in Strife’s memory, and no mortal would be
stupid enough to buy anything stolen from a god’s tomb. So
what’s the point?”
“Who knows how people like that think?” Deimos said
casually. He twined a piece of fringe around one finger, imagining that
it was Strife’s hair, soft and sliding through his fingers, again
and again.