1/31/2024 0 Comments Charon locked heart hadesThe rare tender spot that had Hermes’ sucking in his stomach, stuttering on a breath. Where each old and faded mark laid, ready to be uncovered again. His teeth and thinned lips scraped underneath the thigh. The way his oar should tilt in its descending waters. He’d known it by heart, each twist and turn. He whittled a mark as he went, mapping the trail of the Lethe into his associate’s flesh. Liplessly, he kissed across the bone, one hand working along a calf. And time was ticking.Ĭharon bent his head and laid his first offering along Hermes’ knee. Charon required coins to trespass the Styx Hermes, at times, could be persuaded to imbue good luck for bring wealth to businesses, if the offering was right. “Comfy? I hope so, I would hate for you to be anything but.” With little warning, Hermes locked the Boatman in his grip, one powerful thigh coming up and over his head, knocking his hat askew, to lay lazily across the other. Above him, Hermes shifted down a little more, the edge of his waist falling further over the meridian. Charon sighed in satisfaction when the skin spilled between his fingers. His fingers dug into thick, supple flesh, deceptively nestled over hardened muscle. He locked eyes with Hermes and descended to his knees. “You’ll have to try harder than that, my friend.”Ĭharon groaned again. Hermes grinned, curling his fingers and pretended to tap the underside of his associate’s chin. Just a hair’s breadth away, and he could almost feel Hermes’ finger pads where his upper half still lay across the land of the living. Charon rested a hand to one of Hermes’ thighs, long body bending towards the other god as far as the barrier between their worlds would let him. An endless job gave little time for many pleasantries, but Hermes managed to fit them all in in record time then he was fitting even more in a few centuries after.Ī flash of gold caught the Boatman’s eye, and he glanced in time to see an obol between Hermes’ fingers. It had been one thing Charon had first liked when the two had become workmates. He could say so much in so little time, and cut through you even faster. I should probably reward you for your efforts then, shouldn’t I? Seeing as how you broke a personal record just now.”Ĭharon might have huffed something like a laugh, used to Hermes’ rapid chatter. “Oh? He got that far did he? That’s good, that’s good. You’ve got that little look in your eyes.” No, I haven’t waited long, though you look like you really booked to get up here. Hermes let his legs fall down and open, heels resting against the side of his boat. Charon drew his boat up and tethered it to shore. Nestled against his knuckles was his cheek, pulling languidly at the quick smile on his face. Hermes leaned back, content and comfortable, and, in rare form, idle. The God of Swiftness was sitting on an altar on the shore separating the surface from the Underworld. Time passed differently above and below, but there were times when they managed to perfectly intersect. The Prince of the Underworld had been kicked back home somewhere in Asphodel. The latest batch of souls were safely taken down to Thanatos’ waiting hands. As long as the souls were delivered, Charon figured it mattered little what he did between pauses, however short they may be his business, all three of them, were his own. He did his duties as expected, and if he got a little coin to add to his maddening stores, then so be it. He was neither wholly committed as Thanatos, nor as lackadaisical as Hypnos. Nestled at the God of Swiftness’ Altar, Charon leaves evidence of his devotion.ĭespite the differing opinions on duties his brothers may have, Charon prescribed to his own set of rules. Rated: T+, with lots of suggestive things, just saying.
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