museboxofmuses | (no subject)

"What sort of idiot do you take me for?" he asked, with fondness in his voice. "I'm not so foolish to remind someone of something only to shun it. Well, only for Lahabrea," he said, breathing out slowly and watching Prometheus' hand on his jaw.

"So let's renew our vows. You know, as soon as I quit the convocation," he said, his expression taking on its often mischievous, smarmy look. "Which... Well. Whenever they open my resignation letter, I suppose."

No, Hades would not be doing that in person. That sounded entirely too exhausting. They would want... Entirely too much. An exit interview, a rebuttal, a plea... Ugh, it sounded horrible. Certainly there was someone else who could do it all. And if not? Perhaps they would have to wait five hundred years for a child to properly mature... But so what?

Hades, too, felt the split, the pull-away from Prometheus. The most serious issue in the world, literally— how to solve it all, and they came down on different sides. It did not make it a bit better that Hades was right. Except that his solution carried hope that their own consciousnesses would be allowed to heal. God, how bleak.

"I wouldn't have made you a womb if I was thinking of dashing out the door," he said blithely. "And speaking of doors... I did tell you that I'll be moving in, right? You have such ugly doors."

Prometheus laughed quietly at the thought of the Convocation starting their next meeting opening Hades's resignation letter when the man wasn't there - but it got him thinking. If Hades was quitting the Convocation, then what point was there for Prometheus to try getting back on it. Really, he only stayed in the past because Hades had been there, had tried his hardest to get better now because Hades was there...

It was a big step. A big personal change he'd make for himself. And, well, what would he do with himself if he quit? He joined the Convocation young, too young, really, so his entire Self had been shaped around being the Fourteenth. He'd have to rediscover himself all over again, which... probably wasn't a bad thing? He'd have to do that anyway, considering how much his soul was in flux...

He pushed aside all thoughts about that. He can dwell on it later. For now...

"Don't insult my doors. They're lovely," he mock-huffed, shifting his weight again. Buried deep in Hades as he was, well, he wasn't immune to the sensation of it. Before, though, the ache in his balls had curbed his enthusiasm somewhat, an ache that had pretty much faded now (he always recovered fast). The tight, wet heat squeezing around his cock was slowly stiffening it back up.

"But if you hate them that much, we can change them when we baby-proof this place," he murmured, his hips rocking very minutely and gently, "I mean, we'd have to. My home's a death trap."

Zodiark was a touchy subject, so Hades decided not to bring it up. Even if mentally there was the chorus of "And if we lived in my place, Zodiark could protect our children. And my condo isn't a death trap—" But he must pick his battles. It's what he had to do, being in love with the most difficult man in Amaurot.

"With my time off, I think I'll double my naps. I've hardly ever doubled my intended productivity, so I look forward to it." The tone in his voice was remarkably close to dead-fucking-serious.

"I feel like you specifically Created your doors as an Affront to Aesthetics," Hades said. Was he recollecting a specific and true memory? Perhaps.

"Perhaps I should just add-on to the side of the building. There's so many violations of physics in here... We almost may as well torch it to the ground and try again..."

Hades idly squeezed his erection with his cunt.

Prometheus did sort of vaguely remember designing his home to be as unappealing as possible, to deter any would be visitors. He also violated the laws of physics to maximise as much space as he could, since the Administration Bureau kept rejecting his requests to expand his property. So instead he folded space over and... hm. Maybe Hades was right. Maybe he should knock it down and start over.

"I mean, I wouldn't be against the Architect designing me a new house, so if you want to burn it down, fine," Prometheus said a mite teasingly, letting out a breathless grunt when Hades tightened around him. His pupils dilated, eyes heavy-lidded, his fingers gently running along the curve of Hades's jaw as his gaze started to focus on his mouth.

"We can build it together," he murmured distractedly, leaning in to kiss Hades on the corner of his mouth, his other hand idly trailing down along Hades's ribs, down towards his hip.

“Thinking about it, I’m not sure this place would burn, it breaks so many laws of physics. I might have to just absorb the aether.” Like he was containing a dangerous entity. Which it kind of was.

“To build something with you... That sounds nice,” Hades said, making a soft noise as he felt Prometheus’ hand move to his hip. “As long as I get the last day on aesthetics. You know.. I’ve always wondered why you don’t have an aviary.” Hades had that look in his eye, betraying that he was already constructing it in his mind.

“You can start thrusting again if you like,” Hades said, low key wondering if he could trick him into a follow through.

Edited 2019-10-27 00:08 (UTC)

Well, Prometheus never really had an aviary because his workplace had been such a temperamental, reality-warping monstrosity, that he daren't risk it. But, since his explosive, dangerous days of experimenting with combat-spells were far behind him, he supposed he could have one...

The idea was so lovely, it distracted him briefly, mindlessly nuzzling the underside of Hades's jaw until he was invited to, ah, continue. Right, he was... very much balls deep in someone here.

"Mm, sure..." Prometheus made a low, purring noise, and started rocking into Hades again. It felt nice, his lower back arching a fraction as he gripped Hades's hip firmly, tilting it just so until he hit an angle that felt right. Unlike before, where he'd been rough and desperate, his movements were slow and lazy. He felt too relaxed, too loose-limbed from his earlier, pent-up orgasm, to go at it all passionate-like so soon.

Affection bubbled up in him, warm and fizzing and making every mote in his soul hum in contentment, far sweeter than any primal orgasm could be. His soul opened up, a little tentatively, inviting Hades to delve deep if he wanted, blurring the lines between physical and spiritual sex slightly but...

He wanted it. He was nervous too - because what if he remembered Xerora and panicked? What if Hades hit upon the Doom shrapnel and it ruined the mood for them both? - but also, he missed Hades, and he meant it when he said he wanted them to rediscover each other again. He missed Hades like he missed a severed limb. He just... wanted him again. Body and soul.

Hades needed no further invitation. Prometheus opened a bit, and Hades moved in boldly. He hit upon the cracks, smoothing himself over him entirely, pressing himself into the crevices like glaze over a cake.

Now that the movements were lazy, Hades found himself moving in tandem. He put his hands on Prometheus’ back, gripping him closer. Oh, and he was hitting all the perfect spots, making electricity shoot up his spine and down his legs. He noted, idly, that he hadn’t bothered to morph out his prostate, so he was having quite a lot of enjoyment.

“Oh, that’s good,” he crooned into his ear. Having this set of genitals was entirely new to him, of course. Should he be doing something with it? He tried, but fluff himself just tightening involuntarily.

Prometheus made a tiny noise when Hades's soul settled into his. There was that instinctive flinch, his soul tensing without thinking - but it lasted for only half a heartbeat, relaxing as Hades's soul curled around him, soothing the constant, prickling burn of the Doom shrapnel stuck deep in the cracks. There was no pain, and Prometheus found himself shakily exhaling a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in.

Like this, he could feel an echo of the pleasure Hades was feeling, a vivid feedback loop that had his toes curling and his nerves settling. It was... comfortable, this slow, lazy rhythm, their souls curled into each other, pushing and pulling - Prometheus unconsciously sped the pace up a bit, especially when Hades started to clench around him.

"Feels good," Prometheus said breathlessly, half-listening to Hades's crooning in favour of nuzzling the crook of his friend's neck. He was clinging to him tight, as close as they could be while still having enough leverage to fuck properly, realising just how fucking touch-starved him and his soul was. He wanted to just bury himself in the comforting, safe boundaries of Hades, stay there, soak him all up - it was almost getting to be overwhelming, that push-pull between physical pleasure and Hades's soul resonating with his - but Prometheus wanted it like that. It made his mind go blissfully blank.

"Hades..." he groaned, mindlessly pawing at Hades's hip, "Can you- go in deeper? I want..."

Hades pushed in, pressing down Prometheus’ walls from the inside and became his new container. They resonated, and Hades gasped and grabbed at the hair at Prometheus’ nape. Now they were truly having as much sex as possible in that moment, and it was pushing Hades over the edge. His legs came up, gripping Prometheus’ hops in place as he rolled against him.

Every bit of his length was pressed inside of him, and just exactly so. His heart pounded as he gasped, his stomach muscles tightening, his back arching, and his head thrown back so violently and suddenly.

“Oh, Prometheus...!” he cried as he came, shuttering beneath his lover. Hades was slicked with sweat, his eyes half open and unfocused.

Hades clutched at him so tightly Prometheus could barely move, but that was fine, because every bit of them were so firmly entwined together he kind of forgot how to move anyways. All he knew was hadeshadeshades and the hot flush of pleasure and ecstasy and completion - and he didn't know if it was him, or Hades, or both, stuck in a pleasurable feedback loop, but it was good and Prometheus made a very embarrassing, breathless grunting noise when Hades clenched hard and-

He came - both physically and soul-wise, his vision blooming white and warm fuzzy colours, burying his face into the crook of Hades's neck as he gasped his name over and over. His mind just melted - too much, in one go. Physical- reward hormones, reaction, physical orgasm, mixed with the straight up dopamine shot from soul harmonising, it was- so much. He formulate a thought beyond that. So much. So much.

He finally came down from his little high, though, in small bits and pieces, panting into Hades's shoulder as he held him tight and close. With a clumsy wriggle of his hips, he managed to slip out of Hades, where it felt more than a little wet and warm.

"Good," he mumbled, stupidly, gently easing them both to lie on their sides instead, still holding Hades close, nuzzling his throat, his shoulder, "Needed that."

“Mm, I thought so,” Hades replied, rubbing Prometheus’ scalp with the arm not pinned between them. Idly, he thought that it would be too hopeful, and perhaps a bit unfair to Prometheus if this took seed. Perhaps he had been hasty... and he wanted more of just this. Oh well, can’t go tying and untying Prometheus’ tubes based on his mood. As funny as that might be.

Hades enjoyed his own afterglow, though resisting the nap that threatened to take him. “I did too, of course,” he said, breathing in Prometheus’ scent. “Hmm... I suppose I’ll move in tonight.”

"Mm...?"

Oh, right. Yeah. Hades was moving in. He forgot.

Initially, Prometheus hadn't been overly keen about that. It would be a major disruption to the comfortable routine he had uneasily settled into - but, maybe it was the afterglow, but it didn't seem like such a bad idea now. It might be a bit awkward - they always liked their own space to retreat to - and, some things would need working out...

...

He'll think on it later.

"Not gonna burn down my house and remake it first?" he asked drowsily. His soul felt very warm puddle-y, right now. He could feel the discomforting needle like prickle of the doom shrapnel, though, but he easily ignored it. His soul always felt hypersensitive after an orgasm, so he was just more aware of the unwanted intrusion than usual.

“Too tired to,” Hades said with a sigh. “I’d planned on it, but I think I’ll save it for when I’m feeling testy with you,” he said, and it was hard to tell if he was joking. With his soul still so deeply intertwined, he could feel the prick of the Doom shrapnel as well.

“I wonder what they’ll do without us, at the convocation,” Hades mused aloud. One by one, the members had all taken strides to make their own children... Zodiark had encouraged it, and everyone agreed that it was too lonely. Even for a curmudgeon like Hades.

That was the question, wasn't it?

"I dunno," Prometheus sighed, leaning away enough so that he wasn't talking directly into Hades's neck. He idly tugged at a sweat-damp lock of Hades's hair, playing with it by wrapping it gently around his finger.

"I don't think they'll be what they used to be, anyways," he admitted after a pause, his tone slightly cautious. Even skirting the topic of Zodiark tended to cause tension between them, "Since, we're under 'new management' and all. The role of 'Convocation' might change into something else and... yeah."

It left Prometheus feeling unsettled, thinking about a different future. He didn't like it. It was too uncertain and strange, and... he didn't know. Normally he liked new, and exciting things, but this was too much new, much too involuntary, to get much excitement about it.

Hades could feel Prometheus trying not to get into it, and even if he largely disagreed, he respected that he was merely coming from a place of unease. He sighed, and then shot Prometheus a smirk. "Maybe they'll actually get some work done. Especially since I left a recommendation for Hythlodaeus to take my place."

Hades closed his eyes as he felt Prometheus play with his hair. "Nothing... Can really go back to what it was, you know. I think we took it for granted, being allowed to only change when we wanted to... Nature lives by nature's rules, but we stood somewhere outside of that, hadn't we?"

Hades rubbed his back, and then hoisted himself up out of bed. There was still much to do, unfortunately.

Prometheus couldn't imagine Hythlodaeus leaving the Convocation unscathed if he got accepted into their midst (if Hyth even accepted, since it was widely known he had initially refused the title of Emet-Selch when it had been offered to him). Then again, that might be what they needed, Hythlodaeus's brand of mischief, shaking things up...

He didn't comment on Hades's thoughtful insight, though. It was what he'd been saying in the days leading up to the Doom - how they had sat outside the flow of the Lifestream for too long, how this was an inevitability they simply had to accept - but he didn't feel very vindicated about being proven right. If anything, he'd hoped to be proven wrong in this, at least.

He rolled onto his back when Hades got up, his gaze flicking down to see that the insides of Hades's thighs were, well, more than a little messy. He felt his face warm a little, glancing away as he tried not to think about how desperate he must've looked and felt to Hades, fucking him that enthusiastically with barely any stimulation whatsoever...

"Um," he started, "You wanna shower together?"

Hades bit his lip. There were conversational pitfalls everywhere, it they were both feeling amicable enough to let these things slip. It would come to a head eventually, and he wondered if it would be worse to wait to tell him. ...It would. And he was in good spirits... so. That meant he could either annihilate a perfectly good evening or be able to deliver difficult news without Prometheus fell apart.

Unfortunately, he had spent so long pondering this that it took him a moment to hear Prometheus. “Hm? Oh. Right. We should, shouldn’t we?” Hades walked over to the bathroom and cautiously opened the door. Never knew when the contents of the house might shift, especially with Prometheus’ poor control over the structure. Worse, Hades was such a powerful mage that Zodiark was unable to fully yoke his powers. Hades Created like he breathed— he was so natural at it and his mistakes so infrequent that he would forget that he could shift reality in inconvenient ways.

This time, as he opened the door, a birds flew out, forcing him to duck as they flitted around the room.

Prometheus didn't have much time to feel put out about Hades delayed, distracted reply on account of his bedroom door deciding to spit out a flock of brightly coloured bird when Hades opened it. His house must've linked to the ornithology lab in the Acadaemia again.

"Oh, come on! I fixed that problem a century ago!" He groaned, sitting up. He found it hard to be truly annoyed, though, especially when a few birds landed on the bed next to him, hopping onto his legs or shoulders. He always did attract birds without trying - animals in general, really, and they all tended to instantly love him.

Probably a Lifestream thing.

"But you guys are cute, though..." he crooned, gently stroking one handsome bird perched on his thigh, smiling when it affectionately nibbled on his finger. Ah. Birds. They were perfect. How he loved them, these brilliant little things... "Hades, aren't they cute?"

Hades smiled at them, reaching over to let one nibble his finger. “I don’t think they would appreciate it if we used the flamingo pond to bathe... Again.” Even if it was the middle of the night and they should not have had any chance of getting found. Turns out they had recently added guards after the Xerora tourist incident.

“How long before someone noticed that they’re gone?” Hades tiredly started looking for his clothes, gave up, and snapped something onto his body. It didn’t match. Now? Was now the time to tell him? Maybe he should flip a coin. Hades’ expressive nature couldn’t contain his frown. Stupid! Make a choice or it won’t be yours to make! Tell him or don’t! Hades looked at Prom, all with love in his eyes and joy on his features.

“Hey... so. I have a caveat about this whole...thing. That you should probably know,” Hades let one of the birds land on him. “Since a soul could take.”

Prometheus glanced over at Hades, his happy expression tempering into something more guarded. He could feel the uncertainty and wariness bubbling up in Hades, like it usually did before he dropped a very unpleasant bombshell. Prometheus felt steady enough to deal with a nasty surprise right now though... right?

"What caveat is that?" He asked, mentally running through a list of possibilities. If it was regarding their kids, and this level of caution from Hades, the answer was already glaring him in the face. He felt his soul clench at the idea of it, like a steel trap swinging mostly shut, sharp teeth and all.

“Since I’ll be the carrier... The child may become tempered in the womb,” he didn’t know if Prometheus knew this already. It was likely that he didn’t. It’s not like he went out all that much. All the children stayed close to Zodiark’s protection... and of course he tempered them.

“I’m not entirely sure that Zodiark can control it either,” Hades said, expression drawn with his arms folded. “So... I suppose you should cope with that possibility sooner than later.”

And of course, were someone to ask that if Zodiark changed him... he was never entirely be sure. Of course he knew that they all became tempered, but that was by design, not flaw. What good would a god be that fell out of favor or acted against its peoples’ wishes and best interest?

“Even if they aren’t...” it’s a matter of time, he didn’t say.

Prometheus didn't immediately respond. His soul had completely shut Hades off, though, physically looking away from him as he focused on the birds in his lap instead. That made it less stressful to think about.

The thing was, he already knew that. He was aware the children would be tempered, and that it was an ugly necessity. He was painfully aware that his own immunity to Terminus wasn't easily replicated, because it was a culmination of his own soul modifications and other mysterious circumstances.

He knew all that.

Didn't make it easier to accept, though. The idea, the thought, of tempering, made him feel physically ill. And. Their children being that...

But, Prometheus was trying his best to be less crazy and irrational. So. Right. He wasn't happy about it, at all, but it was a thing. Fine.

"Okay," he said, managing to sound calm - too calm, maybe. His tone sounded distant, even to himself, "I understand. I don't have a choice in the matter anyways, so I have to accept it."