Page 37 of The Trickster's Heart

“Okay,” Hercules slurred, leaning into Hermes’s touch. “Could look at you all day.”

Hermes smiled through his tears, “That’s great, pet. Now, this is very important. Did you get bitten by a snake?” Hercules managed a nod, and Hermes tried to contain his panic. “Okay, okay, where is it?”

“Cerberus.” Hercules raised a weak arm and pointed at the hound. “He ate it.”

“Of course he did.” Hermes looked up at Cerberus, who was sitting patiently at their feet with a concerned expression on his faces. Hermes knew he was more cognizant than your average hound. “Good boy, Cerby.” Hermes mustered some goodwill and turned to Hercules, scanning his body for the snake’s mark.

“Fuck,” Hermes swore when he found it.

There was an angry, inflated bite on Hercules’s wrist. A sickly green color emanated from the two puncture wounds, tinging Hercules’s veins under the pale skin.

Hermes wasted no time, grabbing Hercules’s wrist and bringing it to his mouth. He pressed his lips to the bite, and another wave of fear went down his spine; Hercules’s skin was so cold, too cold. Everything about Hercules in that moment was the opposite of the man Hermes had come to know, he was typically so full of vitality, tanned and full of strength. Hermes murmured a prayer, pressed his lips to the wound, and sucked.

Instantaneously, he fought the instinct to spit as the vile, acidic taste of the snake’s poison flooded his mouth. He knew it wouldn’t affect him, but it still wasn’t pleasant. Hermes looked down at Hercules’s soft expression, fading in and out of consciousness in his lap, and easily overrode his own instincts. He kept going until the grotesque tint of the poison was receding from Hercules’s veins and a little bit of his color started to return.

In those moments, time had no relevance to Hermes. There was only the body of the man he loved in his lap and the only chance he had to save him. Finally, he pulled himself off Hercules’s wrist. Hermes leaned over to the side and fought back a wave of nausea, letting the peaky feeling rush over him as his immortal body fought off the poison.

“You know there are easier ways to suck me off.” Hercules stirred in his lap.

Hermes turned his attention back to Hercules and started crying again; there was a little more color in Hercules’s expression, and his eyes were more focused. He still looked flushed, and his breathing was shallow, but he was still alive.

“I thought I wouldn’t get here in time,” Hermes let out a relieved sigh, his shoulders slumping. He couldn’t stop running his hands over Hercules, tracing patterns on his cheek and playing with his curls.

“But you did.” Hercules smiled, closing his eyes and leaning into Hermes’s ministrations.

“I tried not to tell him. I did,” Hermes sighed. “I understand if you…”

“I must still be hallucinating if you’re about to assume that I don’t want you anymore,” Hercules chided, turning his head and pressing a soft kiss to Hermes’s thigh.

“Come on,” Hermes sighed, standing up effortlessly and cradling Hercules in his arms.

Hermes was still pulsating with power, standing taller than the hero for once. Hercules’s heartbeat was getting stronger and steadier with each passing minute, but he wasn’t quite out of the woods yet.

“Cerberus, why don’t you go say hello to Eurystheus?” Hermes commanded, “and we’ll be there shortly. We have somewhere else to go first.”

15

When Hercules woke up, he was warm. The last things he remembered were a deathly chill coursing through his veins and the thought he’d never feel warm again.

This is a much more pleasant alternative.

His senses started to come alive one by one, and Hercules realized that everything was also soft. He stretched his arms over his head with a pleasant groan, his joints popping as he shook the sleep from his body.

“I was wondering when you’d wake up.” Hermes’s voice was gentle as it called out to him from the corner. Hercules turned, searching for Hermes. He found him sitting in a chair only a stone’s throw from the bed he was resting in.

Hercules blinked rapidly and tried to adjust to his surroundings. The entire room was whitewashed, with murals painted in muted shades of red and yellow on the walls. The window was wide open, and a cotton curtain swayed in the breeze; the air smelled sweet, like crocuses and Hermes’s magic.

Hermes was still in his strongest god form. Hercules couldn’t help but notice that Hermes’s legs looked even longer and more delicious like this.

“Where are we?” Hercules attempted to push himself up to a sitting position, but Hermes moved in a flash, gently pushing Hercules back down to the pillows.

“Don’t move,” he murmured. “This is my home on Mt. Kyllini.” Hermes’s face still looked terrified as he evaluated Hercules for any lingering injury. Hercules had returned to his full strength, but he had a feeling it was going to take some time to convince Hermes of this.

“I bet there’s a beautiful view of the valley,” Hercules grinned, “but you aren’t going to let me go look, are you?” Hermes’s brow furrowed, and his expression darkened. Hercules knew the anger wasn’t directed at him.

“You’ll be lucky if I let you out of this bed ever again,” Hermes whispered, a haunted look in his eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.”

He cupped Hercules’s jaw and rubbed his thumb against his cheek. Hercules placed his hand over Hermes’s and turned his head to press a kiss to his palm.

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