Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Title: Vacuum
Author: Corona
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Want, ask, take, have.
Pairing: Joxer/Ares
Warning: Dark themes, some tame non-con stuff.
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody here. I never have done and I never will.
I'm borrowing all of them for this story, I'll give them straight back
afterwards.
Series: Sequel to Bravery and Truth.
Summary: Ares tries to understand Joxer and Joxer learns more about Ares
than he ever wanted to know.
Part 1
They were starting to attract attention, small groups of people loaded with
blankets spoke in hushed whispers across the field. Huddled together dressed
only in what they could tie round themselves, breath making plumes appear in
the frozen air. Peasants, the last people that would venture onto a
battleground, waving away the crows. Joxer had seen them before, they'd come
to collect the dead. His knees, which were freezing in the mud, twitched and
slid deeper. He wasn't sure if the field would merit a visit from Hades, or
if he had already been?
Ares, as still as any of the corpses, still rested against his shoulder. He
licked his lips,
"Ares" it was as soft as his voice could go and still be audible.
"They've come to collect the dead" muscle flexed and the weight lifted.
Joxer, unsure whether or not to meet his eyes, turned his head.
Ares face was completely composed, eyes hollow but dry.
"Then we should let them" he knelt there silently, gazing over Joxer's
shoulder. Hands resting slackly on his knees. Mud seeped through a hole in
Joxer's pants drawing unnameable parts of the quagmire in with it. He
shifted, Ares noticed and pulled himself to his feet, drawing Joxer up with
him.
It seemed colder than it had in the mud, more so when Ares stepped back.
Joxer was almost afraid to speak again. It didn't seem to matter because he
couldn't think of anything to say. Ares hand still rested on his arm,
squeezing faintly. Hotter than it probably should have been and Joxer had
the strangest thought that Ares had tethered himself to Joxer. A rope so he
wouldn't get lost.
The thought sounded stupid when he examined it. Ares didn't need a rope he
was a God. Ares didn't need to feel connected...did he? He didn't like
searching Ares face, it felt too much like prying, but he couldn't shake the
feeling that Ares wasn't entirely there. It was like looking at a sculpture.
"Ares?" it was too quiet to be a question, more a confirmation that Joxer
was still there. That Ares hadn't let him go yet.
Then he did and it was abrupt, one moment his hand was there and then it
wasn't.
"You should go" Joxer blinked, waited but there was nothing more and Ares
didn't flash away, his hand was twisting against his thigh. A longer pause,
not uncomfortable but...empty. Joxer waited for the wind to die down a
little then opened his mouth, not sure what would come out.
"I don't think you should be alone" for a fraction of a second Ares scowled,
it didn't surprise him. No one told Ares what he should and shouldn't do.
Then it was gone and the blankness was back, that horrible staring. Joxer
had seen that expression before, but only once, he'd have given anything to
never see it again.
"I don't think you want to be alone" and just who controlled his mouth
around here because he was certain he would never have said that. Especially
not to the God of War. Ares didn't scowl again, he turned his head back to
Joxer, considered him, as if debating whether he was worth the bother. Joxer
had seen that look too often to do anything but stare back into it.
The hand was back on his arm. That same heat that had to be divine. Only
this time the fingers were tight, a fraction from bruising but they flexed,
bruising was an option. Joxer wondered if that would help. Was that what the
God of War needed, someone to make the pain physical. He flexed the muscle
underneath steel fingers and was relieved when they relaxed. Too much
bloodshed after all then.
"You want to come with me?" Joxer could barely swallow. He hadn't thought
that Ares would want him. He just needed to make sure Ares had someone, no
one should be alone in the middle of this, because Joxer was sure that Ares
was. This thing which had no name but made Ares eyes look like a lifetime in
Tartarus.
He tried his voice,
"I'll come, if you want me to, if I can" it seemed like the words hung
forever and Joxer wondered what on earth he was doing. Why he was here, and
why in the world Ares God of War would possibly want to drag him anywhere.
He was the last person anyone would want for company. He definitely wasn't
anything like what Ares needed right now.
Ares needed...Joxer didn't even know what he needed and that was proof
enough that he had no business being here, no business anywhere near this
field. As soon as Ares was himself again Joxer would bear the brunt of his
anger. No one saw a God like this and lived to tell.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't-" the hand tightened and then it did bruise.
"Yes" Ares said simply and the world dissolved in a glare of white.
The world reappeared suddenly and Joxer fell into it awkwardly, head rolling
with brief yet intense dizziness. He opened his eyes and blinked
frantically, because it was black and he couldn't see anything at all.
For an instant Joxer thought Ares had taken him to another battlefield,
until the torches flared to life. His eyes shut automatically into the
heated orangeness that surrounded him. When he opened them again he made a
small noise. The new place was dark, and had a open coldness about it which
instantly made Joxer feel unwelcome. It smelt of old blood and age, like one
of Ares own temples, but it had to be older than that even, because this was
definitely no temple.
The room was huge and black, walls decked in weaponry that no mortal could
ever find or afford, some looked used, most didn't. There was no carpeting,
just perfectly flat grey marble, it wasn't even patterned. A rack, full to
every corner with scrolls, hung ominously over a black oak desk. behind
which sat a chair, high backed and leather, it looked as if it had never
been sat in.
The entire room felt like an empty grave, sucked completely bare of any hint
that someone could live there. Ares stood rigid at his back, then turned and
strode through the nearest doors. Joxer debated whether following him was
wise, it seemed impossible that Ares lived here, that he could live here.
Joxer would go mad in a place like this. Yet it was so obviously Ares home
and he was loathe to wander it.
He decided Ares would not come back for him and stepped cautiously through
the doors where he had vanished. Another room like the first, only with more
chairs, a dining room of sorts, long table bare. Ares waited just inside,
when he saw Joxer he turned and then slid slowly into the head chair like
Joxer wasn't even there. He had no idea what to do now, stand there like an
ornament in his badly fitting armour, looking like War's own personal
jester. This whole episode was gaining a dreamlike quality that was
dangerous. What if he said something stupid into this unreal situation, made
everything a hundred times worse?
What if Ares really was unstable? Joxer couldn't even imagine the types of
decisions a God had to make. Couldn't begin to guess what could make Ares
collapse on a battlefield and proclaim 'enough.' He fixed his gaze on Ares
again. What if he just sat there ignoring him until Joxer starved to death
and laid like a husk on his temple floor, would Ares even care.
He hunched a little deeper into his armour and wrapped and arm around his
waist, looked around slowly while Ares ignored him. What the hell was he
doing here anyway? What the hell was he doing in Ares temple? Why had Ares
brought him here?
'Because you offered you stupid fool, you practically begged him to let you
come and now you complain because he's ignoring you.'
The voice in his head was right, he'd offered to come because he didn't want
Ares to be alone, he was here now, but he'd never thought that far ahead. He
always jumped in and thought he could fix everything, he'd let his own
stories run away with him again. He wasn't stupid enough to con himself
into believing there was anything remotely mighty about him.
"There's wine on the table." Joxer didn't know whether to cringe or sigh in
relief.
"Bring me some." It wasn't a question, Joxer couldn't be insulted, Ares was
a God. He reached out and lifted the heavy jug, poured some into a mug. It
took him a second to realise Ares had moved, stood over his left shoulder.
The jug jumped in Joxer's hands. Ares eyed him.
"I scare you don't I?"
Joxer set the jug down, fought not to look at him.
"Of course you do, you're the God of War." Ares snatched the mug, snorted
harshly then downed it on one movement.
"I need to sleep."
Without another word he strode past Joxer. Bewildered and more than a little
desperate to help since he was here. Joxer had no choice but to follow him
again. Through a polished oak door, down stone steps, into a room so dark
Joxer's tread slowed down to barely anything. Ares was merely a shape that
radiated heat in front of him, until torches flared to life and it seemed
suddenly as if Ares lived in complete darkness.
The God of War didn't even bother to undress, he tossed the mug across the
room to clang somewhere else. Then he sunk into blackness, not the soft
shiny black of silk that was barely a memory in Joxer's head, or the noisy
awkward black of leather just plain black cotton sheets. Dark and there and
also looking as if they'd never been used. Did nothing ever wear out?
He almost asked, if only to break the sudden strange silence which, if not
angry, seemed cloying. Then he realised Ares was already asleep, deep in the
blackness suddenly looking pale.
Joxer drew back quietly, then studied Ares face. He'd never seen someone
look so exhausted, and he hadn't even known Gods needed to sleep. He always
thought people looked younger when they slept. Sometimes Xena did, sometimes
she even looked innocent. Just another woman who'd fallen asleep in the
woods, without her armour and her chakram.
It wasn't her weapons or her skill that was her power, it was her eyes. Her
father's may not have been blue but they held the same power. A sort of
thinly disguised destruction. Sometimes he thought they weren't even human
eyes and he was ashamed of that. Sleeping Ares should have looked young, his
eyes closed. He didn't though, he looked dead.
Like a soldier laid out after battle. When whatever was left of them was
taken home, but then Ares never got to go home, did he? Joxer didn't know
how much of Ares was left. The thought scared him to death.
'Ok so what am I supposed to do now', he couldn't possibly just stand over
the sleeping form of Ares until he decided to wake up, he felt as if he was
going to fall over on his feet as it was. He didn't dare sit on the bed, and
there weren't any real possessions to look at.
Most people had something: a picture, a scroll, a statuette, Tartarus a
favourite pair of boots. Something to demonstrate to the world that they had
a personality, that they had something that was connected to them and meant
something. This was just a room, somewhere you'd pay to spend the night and
not look back at in the morning. Very quietly, he turned around and made his
way back up the staircase, away from the sleeping Ares.
Joxer flinched, opened his eyes, which didn't help since it was dark, he
experienced a brief moment of panic since it hadn't been dark when he went
to sleep and that didn't usually happen. He thought for a second that he was
in trouble and Xena would have to rescue him again. Then he saw the
flickering as his eyes adjusted, he remembered exactly where he was, which
wasn't comforting at all. It wasn't completely dark, but most of the torches
had burnt out. He stretched out of the uncomfortable position he'd sunk
into, left his armour slung over the wooden arm rest, and moved out of the
chair.
He hadn't meant to fall asleep, it had been the only place to go, since he
refused to stand in Ares bedroom and watch him sleep, he'd wandered back out
into the main hall, sought out the lonely chair.
//You're awake?// Joxer jumped, tensed in the act of getting up. That was
really unnerving, if possible Ares voice sounded even darker in his head
than when he spoke. It may have been the echo rebounding inside Joxer's
head, Zeus knew there was enough space in there. Or maybe it was waking up
in this place, this wasn't the sort of place you woke up in. This was like
the rooms in temples were they kept bodies, before someone took them away.
He realised he was getting morbid and slightly gross, maybe because he
wasn't completely awake yet.
He ran a hand over his face and stood shakily.
//Come here Joxer.// So Ares was awake, unless Gods could talk to people in
their sleep.
Joxer grabbed a torch off of the wall and made his way carefully back down
the cold stone staircase. He let his feet slap on the stone. It felt creepy
sneaking down into a Gods bedroom, whether Ares knew he was coming or not.
Ares had known he was coming, he was slouched up against the headboard
looking like he'd never been asleep at all, scrolls open in his lap, eyes
nothing but grey holes in his face.
"Sit down Joxer" Joxer shuffled forward and sat. Ares was quiet for a moment
then he shoved the papers aside.
"What do you know about War Joxer?" Joxer blinked, looked down at the
scrolls Ares had set down, full of sketches he couldn't make out and precise
handwriting.
"Not a lot...nothing probably." Ares made a short harsh noise.
"What about soldiers, what do you know about soldiers?" Joxer, beginning to
feel small and ineffective, shrugged.
"Probably nothing too, I was never very good at fighting." Ares didn't say
anything for a moment.
"You weren't the worst, does that help?" Joxer gave an odd little laugh
which surprised himself.
"I think it does." Ares nodded gently.
"Alright, let me pose you a question." Joxer looked up, folded his hands in
his lap, tried as hard as he could to look like he could do this.
"He was General with the army of Cleos, his name was Eleth" Joxer's eyes
widened.
"I thought you'd recognise that name" Joxer did, Eleth had almost
single-handedly turned the tide of several battles, he had been one of Ares
best warriors.
"All ancient history now but I see you remember him" Ares shifted, folding
one leg over the other.
"Like everyone else I'm sure you thought the man was a hero." Ares stared at
Joxer for a long moment, until he nodded uncertainly. Ares lips curled
upwards but it wasn't a smile.
"But he wasn't, he was a sick man with a penchant for small children,
especially his own" Joxer flinched, mouth drawing into a thin line.
"Oh but I know you don't want me to go into that do you Joxer?" The lips
pressed tighter a long slow head shake.
"He died in his sleep, an old man." Ares shifted.
"Diomedes" Joxer frowned and Ares gave a bitter smile.
"Ah I see you don't know that name. He was a Lieutenant in the same army.
He didn't take very well to the war. In fact I'd say it tipped him quite
firmly over the edge of sanity until he thought he was possessed by demons.
He used to cut open his own skin to let them out. Though he did evacuate
several burning villages and liberate a hundred slaves" Ares leant back
slowly.
"He killed himself, trying to cut open his own chest, he was twenty six"
Ares leant forward, hair falling over both eyes.
"Now tell me which one of those was a hero?"
Joxer watched Ares until he realised the God wanted an answer. He wet his
lips carefully.
"Dio- No, neither of them"
"Are you sure? History would seem to disagree with you." Joxer couldn't
think of an answer so he remained silent. After a long moment Ares slumped
back against the pillows.
"You see there are no easy answers and yet they're both mine, well they're
Hades now but they were mine, I was responsible for making them Heroes
whether they deserved it or not. I was the one that let them slaughter their
names across the continent." Joxer fingers threaded through the tassels on
the throw.
"You think that's your fault, you think because they fought for you they
became famous?" Ares shook his head violently.
"I used them, I knew they were twisted and I used them to kill for me, I
took advantage of the fact that they were sick and used them against
honourable men who were protecting their families." Ares swung a leg off of
the bed almost viciously and stood up, leaving Joxer to wobble precariously
on the edge, cling to the sheets until the bed settled. He swivelled his
head to follow Ares.
'That's what you do' he thought frantically, 'because you're War'. Ares
stiffened briefly.
"That's what I do," said quietly but with so much bitterness. Then he was
rounding the stairs. Joxer paused for a fraction of a second, then slid off
the bed and went after him.
He followed him to the kitchen, or what passed for one, the lack of dust
said nothing about the place. It was a room half made, racks of cutlery for
effect which had probably never been used, but no stove, no fire. The whole
thing was for show, made to be personal but left cold and non functional.
Ares stopped against a table, fingers resting on the wood and biting into
it. Joxer chanced a step forward until he could at least see Ares face.
"But that's not all you do, that's not all you are."
"You're wrong." Ares said quietly.
"That is what I am, there's nothing left." Joxer stepped forward and raised
a hand, it swayed for a moment then settled on Ares shoulder and he had to
look at it for a minute before he tried again.
"No, there's Xena and your other children and..." He struggled violently for
something else, realised with absolute horror that he couldn't think of
anything, why couldn't he think of anything?
"Ares that's not all, I mean you're a God!" Ares shrugged Joxer's hand off
his shoulder almost violently and Joxer pulled his hand away and left it to
hover uselessly, trying desperately to think of something to say, anything
to say? He didn't seem to be helping, just pissing Ares off, he tried one
last time.
"I know what it's like to be something you can never change, to be something
you don't want to be." Which didn't appear to work. Ares whirled on him,
stepped forward until he all but towered over him, leather screeching. Large
hands grasped his shoulders, dug in, and pulled Joxer onto the balls of his
feet.
"No you don't Joxer!" Was spat harshly into his face.
"You can't know what I go through," the shove was harder than it had any
right to be, sending Joxer back over the table. Dishes skidded out from
under him and the corner tilted. He went with it, tumbling helplessly with
the crockery. The impact wrenched a yelp from him. Without his armour he was
thinner than he would have liked. A riot of bones without enough flesh to
protect them.
The crack when he landed was almost worse than the pain which followed.
There wasn't nearly enough time to take a breath. Large hands fisted in his
shirt, dragging him up like he weighed nothing, elbow knocking against his
hip. Leaving him sweaty and shaking in Ares grip.
"You can't know, you of all people." A vicious shake and the back of his
head rung. The rest of what Ares said was drowned out in a fiery buzzing,
but Joxer saw one hand release him and draw back, make a fist. He closed his
eyes.
It was impossible to prepare yourself for pain, to know that the sound and
the riot of colour were an instant away.
The pause was too long, a silence filled with heavy breathing and that tight
choking hold in his shirt. He couldn't open his eyes, couldn't. The hand
relaxed, settled on his chest trembling. It rose, slid like fire against his
cheek.
"I'm sorry" the words were almost inaudible but they made him open his eyes.
The sick pain in his arm and head bloomed once and then vanished.
Ares looked startled, undone and the other hand appeared from his thigh to
cup the remaining half of his face. Joxer stopped breathing.
"I'm sorry" one of the thumbs shifted ever so slightly just below his eyes
socket.
"I'm sorry" the head lowered and his face was in Ares hair.
"I'm sorry" and the soft murmuring in his collarbone let him breathe again.
His head was tipped backwards into an almost painful angle, and Ares head
tilted, the faintest pressure against his throat.
"You can't know what it's like, no one can," it took Joxer a fractured
second to realise Ares was trailing his mouth along the side of his neck. He
stiffened in absolute shock, didn't dare move.
"Because everyone close to what I do ends up insane." A puff of air against
his ear and he managed not to shake, barely. There was definite pressure,
dampness left in it's wake. The first motion that could be termed a kiss.
Joxer desperately wanted to close his eyes. It couldn't be happening, Ares
couldn't have cracked, that was impossible, completely impossible, even
thinking it would crush him utterly.
"I don't want to end up like that," The hands slid down to rest on his upper
arms.
Joxer shook weakly as Ares head rolled on his shoulder.
"How...How do you want to end up?" Careful, careful, don't think about
anything, he can hear you, he can hear you. Breath against his ear. The
press of damp flesh on his cheekbone. Ares hummed, hair trailing Joxer's
face in long ticklish strands which made him want clutch it in his hands,
which was a dangerous thought.
"Ares?" The head went still.
"I want to end up with you." Ares said softly.
"I want you to want me and I want to stop being the monster everyone thinks
I am." Ares twisted his head.
"Belief is so powerful and the entire population is very slowly turning me
into a monster, if that happens then I can't have you." Joxer blinked
desperately, when had the world fallen away?
"Ares I'll always worship you, you know that." He said quietly, how did you
reassure a God that you'd worship them, that you'd love them until there was
nothing left of you but bones.
"Do you mean that?" Spoken so softly against his ear he could only nod.
Joxer flinched when the world disappeared again, swayed dizzily when a
different place met his feet. They were in the bedroom, Joxer pulled out of
his arms and tried to hold Ares at arms length.
"Ares?" The God of War unlaced Joxer's vest and let it fall to the floor.
Joxer stared down at it against the dark stone, then flicked his eyes back
up to Ares, asking a dozen questions with his eyes.
Ares remained silent but tugged at his own vest until it split and came
apart at the side, fell from his arm like discarded skin. How could the God
of War have such perfect skin? Where were all the scars that should have
been there a thousand times over. Did he remember them all if he didn't
scar.
He dragged his eyes away from Ares chest, brought back to the fact that Ares
had taken it off and Joxer knew what kind of worship he wanted. He couldn't
do that, he couldn't.
"Ares," strong fingers tugged the laces of his shirt open, pulled the
bunched up material out of his waistband. Joxer stiffened tried to hold onto
the fabric.
"Ares stop it." The God of War ignored him, bent to kiss him swiftly on the
lips, Joxer pulled away.
"Ares I don't-" strong hands pulled his shirt over his head, Joxer tried to
snatch it and failed when Ares pulled it out of his reach, flung it. His
hands lowered to cup either side of Joxer's face, tilted it and kissed him
again, parting his lips, catching Joxer's lower lip and tasting it. Joxer
settled his hands on Ares chest, pushed.
"Ares, Ares stop for a minute." The God of War didn't stop, he left one hand
on the back of Joxer's neck and slid the other down his stomach to tug at
the laces to his pants. Joxer dropped his hands and tried to hold the laces.
A slow panic building in his throat.
"Ares I can't do this, I can't." Ares took on step and Joxer flinched,
stumbled against the edge of the bed and went down, sank into the material
like it wasn't there, struggled to regain his feet.
A hand in the centre of his chest pushed him down, pinned him there while
his pants were tugged down his legs, he bent a knee, tried to hold onto
them, tried to keep them from sliding to the floor, failed.
His foot hit bare leg, flinched back when he realised the God of War was as
naked as he'd rendered Joxer.
"Ares!" it was a shout and Joxer curled his legs underneath him as Ares
dropped to the bed on his knees, palms landing on either side of Joxer's
waist.
Joxer's arm was straight, balanced between his thighs, rigid.
"Ares," his voice was a shaking thing.
"I don't want to do this," and that was a lie,
"I can't do this," because Ares wasn't the only one in limbo here and Joxer
would not be used and thrown away again. He pulled his leg out from under
Ares knee and pulled himself backwards by force of will alone. Other people
may have been able to do it but Joxer had never been other people. The
things he wanted you didn't get to have and temptation was just cruel.
Ares stared down at him, eyes dark.
"You're mine, you're the only one who is," but Joxer wouldn't be a thing.
He'd been a thing all his life and it wasn't fair. He shook his head because
his mouth wouldn't say no.
"Tell me you love me," he blinked, startled.
"What?" Ares expression didn't change from that slowly simmering
nothingness.
"Tell me you love me." He shook his head again and this time a word did come
out.
"No," Ares eyes widened, hands flexing, his eyebrows canted in confusion.
"Why?"
"Because I can't!" Joxer screamed and he dragged himself to his knees and
didn't care that he was naked.
"Because we don't get what we want dammit and we can't choose who we are."
He sent both palms into Ares chest, shoving him out of his face. Was
surprised when he went with the motion.
"You can have as many worshippers as you want. They'll adore you, worship
you they'll even lay down and spread for you but they won't love you,
because when you're a God you're a thing. You're too big and too far away
for them to see anything but what you are!" and he was finally crying
because there had never been anyone there for him and he felt cheated and it
was selfish. Yes it was selfish and he didn't care. He drew a horrible
shaking breath.
"Stop becoming a person! I can't stand that you're becoming more real than
anyone I know because maybe that makes me crazy too," and then he was
sliding on silk trying to get away, and Ares wouldn't let him because there
was a hand on his arm again and please wouldn't he just let him go.
"Joxer!"
"Let me go!" and all the tugging in the world wasn't helping.
"Let me go now,"
"I love you," he skidded bumped hard into the arm restraining him.
"Don't say that," and he was sure the walls shook when he shouted that.
"You can't say that."
"I love you, don't you get that. I love you and I know it's wrong because I
don't want this for you, you don't deserve this. Dammit stop and listen to
me," but Joxer was struggling like a mad thing. He kicked hard, misjudged
and went sprawling, found himself pinned helpless, staring up into that
face.
"I love you," Joxer slammed his eyes shut.
"Stop saying that, you can't," and then he couldn't breath, because Ares
head lowered and he was kissing him, forcing his mouth open with his own. It
wasn't like being a thing at all and a hand slid into his hair and tilted
his head. This was like melting, no it was like dying because he couldn't
breath, needed to breath, tugged away. Ares let him go, head sliding into
the curve of his shoulder.
"Tell me you love me," whispered against his cheek and all he could hear was
his own breathing and the swish of Ares hair against his skin.
"Tell me you love me." Joxer made a small noise.
"I can't," because he'd go away, you couldn't love something and keep it.
"Tell me because dammit Joxer I need someone to," and the fingers were
twining into his hair, deeper and deeper until it felt like they were inside
his head. Something had to break or he would go insane.
"I love you," he said softly and it wasn't a lie, there was the faintest
sigh into his ear.
Ares face slid against his and it couldn't be this easy. Lips trailed his
jaw line then covered his own. There was no restrained violence this time,
only the taut stillness of Joxer's body because he knew he'd just given
himself to the wolf. He could ask Ares not to hurt him, could even beg but
he wouldn't and if Ares didn't know better then nothing would become of this
anyway.
No one would come to save him, not here, but he didn't even know if he was
scared anymore. He let his arms fall, let his head drop back. Ares hand
clasped the back of his neck, pulled his head back farther. The mouth over
his hardened, eased his lips apart, Joxer let it happen. Who could you give
yourself too if not a God, and one who against all sense claimed to love
you.
Then all he could taste was Ares, the hand at the back of his neck flexed
and slid away, reappeared at his waist, twinned on the other side. Ares
pinned his hips down, pulled his mouth out of the kiss and stared down at
him. Joxer stared back, unsure what he was supposed to do, but Ares was
already leaning again, lips pressed against Joxer's, slightly parted, and
far gentler than before. The hands at his waist relaxed, thumbs very gently
sliding across his hipbones.
Ares let his weight relax on top of him, sighed when Joxer sucked a breath.
It wasn't just the weight though, it was the warmth and the sheer intimacy.
Most of all the intent of velvet hardness crushed to his inner thigh,
throbbing gently against his skin.
"Ares?" More a gasp than a question.
Ares shifted, bore down on his pelvis, Joxer pulled a breath as his own cock
hardened at the contact, closed his eyes. Ares hand slid into his hair,
clutched until Joxer's eyes opened.
"Look at me." He said quietly, the hand didn't relax until Joxer nodded. The
other hand tightened at his waist, slid down until it was pulling
insistently on a slender thigh.
Joxer realised after a second what Ares wanted and slowly parted his legs
until Ares could slip into the space between. Joxer sighed softly and tried
to ignore his own trembling, hoping that Ares wouldn't notice, because
uncertainty and arousal did strange things to his body, things he couldn't
control. Ares lowered his hands again, pulled Joxer's legs round his waist.
Joxer didn't resist, locked his ankles behind Ares back, letting the God
sway forward to claim his mouth again, harder than before, while the hands
that settled him however Ares wanted, lowered and snatched Joxer's hands,
tangled their fingers together. Ares lifted their joined hands, squeezed and
pinned them beside Joxer's head.
The head of dark hair lowered, lips trailing a path from neck to collarbone,
then lower, where they opened around a nipple and sucked sharply. Joxer
flinched and swore, legs tightening round Ares waist, provoking a grind and
the sharp presence of teeth against his breastbone. Joxer tightened his legs
again to feel that bite, not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to
hurt, to remind him, to leave a mark.
Ares lips shifted, took the other nipple in a tight embrace, teeth scouring
deep in answer to Joxer's unspoken wishes. Deep enough for Joxer to flinch
and gasp out his name. Ares drew back, swayed forward, took Joxer's mouth
again until his lips felt bruised and he still arched up for more.
'I do love you,' he thought madly. 'I love you and you're a God and I don't
care.' Ares kissed him harder and Joxer knew he had heard him. The lips were
pulled away from him and Joxer whimpered softly, the first desperate sound
he'd made, the first pleading noise.
Ares released Joxer's hands, leaving him splayed like a sacrifice, then
leant across to the bedside table, lifted a bottle and shoved the top aside
with his thumb, spilling oil on the dark sheets.
Joxer knew what Ares wanted, he raised his hips.
Oiled hands grasped his buttocks and squeezed, moved up to curl round the
very tops of his thighs and spread his legs wider, then one of the hands was
moved away. Joxer kept his eyes on Ares until one slick finger pushed
insistently and then slid into him. His eyes fluttered shut and he swallowed
hard. The other hand on his thigh squeezed until his eyes rolled open, the
finger pushed deep, stopped. Ares let his other hand glide across Joxer's
stomach, then dip lower coating his own erection in warm oil.
Joxer jumped, tried to pull away from that teasing hand before the thudding
in his groin became a slow pull into orgasm. Ares very slowly removed his
hand.
Then two fingers were inside him, a tense stretching burn. A brief desperate
press of Ares forehead to his gave him to courage to stretch upwards and
kiss him. Joxer fell into it, chest arching up to press damply against Ares
own, hands sliding down wide shoulders to cup Ares biceps, feel them flex
under his fingers.
Ares groaned harshly and slowly pulled his fingers backwards, moved that
hand to Joxer's hip, curled his fingers round it and raised his pelvis.
Joxer let out a single breath in a long shudder, then murmered aquiesence
when Ares shifted enough to press the head of his cock against the entrance
to Joxer's body.
Ares hips pushed forward with the slightest pressure, Joxer made a quiet
noise, fingers tightening on Ares arms. Joxer's gasp stilled Ares, and when
long hands slid round to clutch at Ares back he pushed forward again.
Joxer's eyes lifted, caught Ares, wide and dark and so tightly controlled.
The hands on his thighs leaving white circles of pressure. Joxer raised his
hips and pushed back, there was a moment of uncertain pain, until Ares
seized his hips and held them forcibly still. Joxer lifted his eyes but Ares
own were closed. He was breathing harshly into the silence.
Ares opened his eyes abruptly, leant down and settled his forehead against
Joxer's.
"Gods Joxer," Ares pushed again.
Joxer grunted softly and his nails pierced the skin of Ares back. The God of
War growled and Joxer drew a quick desperate breath, afraid he would shatter
into pieces. Ares leant down and kissed him again. The strong thighs between
his own flexed and Joxer gasped into his mouth. Hands moved under his hips,
lifting them higher still and Ares eased backwards and thrust gently.
Joxer's stomach clenched sharply, then relaxed on his next breath. Ares felt
deeper inside him than anyone had ever been, and not just physically. The
sharp pain was melting away under a desperate need to grind back onto Ares
cock. Ares groaned agreement and splayed a hand across Joxer's chest,
fingers biting into the skin.
This wasn't just worship, it was also desire, Joxer tightened his ankles,
dragging Ares back into him, watching through half open eyes as the chest
flexed, hips swaying against him again and again. Ares was watching him
watch him, eyes dark, pupils huge.
Ares hand slid upwards, thumb climbing his jaw to brush across his lips,
then press down. Ares bent forward, used his thumb to open Joxer's mouth,
and then pushed his tongue inside.
Joxer gasped a breath through his nose, trembled from head to toe as Ares
tongue flicked a delicate rhythm against his teeth, a rhythm that was
matched by his hips.
Ares hands dropped to his waist, clenched hard, thighs rock solid as they
moved. Joxer's own damp thighs slid down Ares sides until he tightened them,
trapping Ares in that warm tight space. Ares growled thrust up hard, then
again, until Joxer's spine shuddered in rapture. Joxer's mouth dropped open,
throat closing until only short desperate sounds escaped.
"Come with me," Ares hissed.
Joxer's head slammed back into the pillows, fingers digging sharply into
Ares tense back, orgasm rolled over him and drowned him, shutting everything
out but the heavy jerk of Ares inside him and the rush of warmth against his
own stomach. Strong hands locked on his waist, stayed there, tight enough to
squeeze the breath from him in one short strangled sound.
---
Joxer's eyes opened into warm yellow. His head was curled against Ares
shoulder, arm settled across his stomach, which was rising and falling as he
breathed. Joxer didn't know that Gods had to breath, maybe it was a sleeping
thing.
Joxer leant up on an elbow and considered Ares face. He didn't look dead
anymore. He looked exhausted, though.
Joxer fought the urge to run his fingers down Ares face, across those full
lips. That face which had kissed him with so much passion that he ached to
make it smile. He realised he'd raised his hand when Ares eyelashes
trembled, then lifted. He was caught by Ares eyes. He pulled his hand back
nervously half afraid...Ares would make him leave. The eyes didn't shift,
they didn't narrow, they seemed content to watch him, at least for now.
"You're thinking too much," Ares said very quietly.
"Sorry," Ares smiled very slightly at that. Joxer liked the way it looked on
his face, it wasn't quite the sneering satisfied look he gave Xena. Ares
raised an eyebrow at that and Joxer tried very hard not to think anything,
just to look.
'What happens now?' The words escaped so fast he couldn't stop them. Ares
stared at him, then lifted a hand, tugged his head down gently and kissed
him. He didn't pull back for a long time. When he did he left his hand on
the back of Joxer's neck.
"I meant it you know, I do love you." Joxer's hand slid across Ares chest,
he could maybe actually believe that now, even though it was still sinking
it, Ares had made it a possibility.
"Much as I'd love you to stay in my welcoming and cosy home forever I think
it's time I took you back to the land of the living, for a while. My
daughter has a tendency to worry about you, I can't think why." A small
smile graced Ares face, Joxer echoed it. It was nice to know Xena cared
about him, thought about where he was and what he was doing. Ares raised an
eyebrow.
"Will you stay out of my head please." Ares smile didn't disappear.
"For now." Was all he'd commit to.
End