Page 13 of The Trickster's Heart

“You don’t want to ask me what ambrosia tastes like or what I got up to at the last Dionysian feast?”

“No.” Hercules’s voice dropped to a low murmur, and he scooted closer towards Hermes. Their legs were almost touching now. “I want to know about you.”

Hermes bit back a whimper. He didn’t know the last time someone had asked after him, beyond the usual greeting or salutation. His eyes got wide, and all he could sense in that moment was the warmth from the fire and the close proximity of Hercules’s body.

“Well,” Hermes cleared his throat, embarrassed at how squeaky his voice sounded, “they’ve never been a fan of me, so I guess it’s mutual.”

“Why’s that?” Hercules pressed, leaning forward and pushing a lock of hair out of Hermes’s eyes. Hermes felt his entire body freeze; he was free with his sexuality but was a stranger to any other forms of physical intimacy. The small gesture felt enormous.

“It’s my turn to ask a question,” Hermes squeaked. Hercules nodded, bringing his cup to his lips. “What are you getting revenge for?”

Hercules stilled for only a moment before setting his wine down and letting out a long sigh. “My mother.”

“What happened?”

“It’s my turn.” Hercules spun Hermes’s words back on him. A shudder of arousal ran through Hermes; he never got to interact with anyone who could keep up with him, especially verbally. “Why do you say the other gods aren’t a fan of you?”

“Because they’re not. From the day I was born, they called me the Trickster. It’s hard to like someone that you can’t trust.” Hermes’s voice was laced with raw vulnerability. He said it casually enough, but Hercules’s brow furrowed in such a way that Hermes knew Hercules was seeing right through him.

Hercules moved closer to Hermes until their legs were touching. Hermes’s mouth went dry.

“Well, I like you.” Hercules murmured it softly, like a confession, but said it with conviction nonetheless.

Hermes thought he might pass out. Hercules didn’t take his eyes off him. The tension in the small cavern thickened, and Hermes was breathing heavily. Hercules’s gaze bored into his own, and there was nothing there but a tender heat—something that Hermes realized not many people ever saw from the hero. Hercules’s arm came around Hermes’s waist, pulling him closer still.

“Is this okay?” Hercules whispered, leaning in so his lips barely grazed Hermes’s.

“Y-yes,” Hermes gasped.

They were caught up in the moment, three days’ worth of flirting and tension threatening to spill over. This wasn’t the same lust-filled fervor they’d previously fallen prey to. There was raw intimacy in the moment that made Hermes’s fingers shake. He’d never experienced anyone looking at him the way Hercules was looking at him right then—like he was a lovely thing, worthy of more than a one-night stand or a plaything.

The fire made a loud popping noise next to them, and the moment shattered. Hermes realized what was happening and his vulnerability exploded in his stomach, leaving him with a terrified, nauseous feeling. He lurched backwards from Hercules, swallowing thickly and shaking his head.

“I can’t…” His voice was quiet. “We shouldn’t…”

Hercules looked like a rejected puppy—a very large, brooding, bearded puppy. Hermes had to turn away from the sight.

“Okay,” Hercules’s voice was calm, “that’s probably wise.”

“I’m not always known for my wisdom.” Hermes made a poor attempt at a joking tone.

“Stop,” Hercules demanded quietly, “if you don’t want to do this, of course, I respect that. But ever since I’ve met you, it’s been one self-deprecating comment after another. I don’t want to hear it anymore. I don’t know who that Hermes is you’re always putting down, but the one I’ve been spending time with isn’t…” Hercules choked on his words, as if suddenly realizing his heart was on his sleeve. “He’s not that bad.”

An awkward silence settled over them. Hermes stared off into the distance, unable to look directly at Hercules.

What the fuck is happening to me right now?

“It’s your turn.” Hercules reminded him, picking up his cup again and keeping his eyes off the god.

“Ah.” Hermes nodded. “What happened to your mother?”

Hercules cringed slightly but nodded, acquiescing. “She was killed in the chaos of Apollo’s curse.”

Hermes’s eyes widened. “The one that happened at the Feast of Dionysus?”

“Yes.”

“That was almost a decade ago.” Hermes was shocked.

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