Page 9 of The Night Belongs To Lovers

With tentative action, squirming in his seat from uncertainty but a sense ofnow or never, the young man reached for Corey, wanting to connect with him.

The god saw desire as much as he sensed inexperience, the longing in the young man’s eyes to be seen and wanted and to give in to his sexual appetite; it was a mouthwatering blend of hurt, anguish, lust, and confusion.

Of course, you desire me, mortal. You can’t know or truly comprehend this god of sin before you from a world of sexual delights you’ve never participated in or believed could bewithin your once-closeted grasp. But I’ll give you what you want soon enough. You’ll see.

Hot for the man, Corey reciprocated the attention, reaching out and beckoning him to touch what he so painfully lusted after. But he intentionally halted just before their hands were about to clutch, a breath of space between their fingers.

Immediately taken aback, the handsome mortal appeared visibly fraught with disappointment and embarrassment; his bright, human eyes showed increased perplexity.

Corey read his prey’s mind, now filled with chaos and questions.

The mortal did not understand the apparent rejection. The dancer had shown such interest in him, but was Corey, which he doubted was his real name,nothing more than a damn cock-tease? Sure, he might not be as deep-pocketed as others in the place, but he had money, especially for gay-for-pay performers who mainly faked it for cash. However, the mortal hoped Corey was not one of those.

In his naivete, the young man thought he and Corey had had a moment, maybe more than one, during all this erotic hullabaloo, that there was something between them, a natural attraction. But to be rejected and denied further connection when he had come all this way from his small town to experience queer life in Toronto was cruel.

The mortal’s mind harboured many random introspections, panicky assumptions, and self-doubt. He wondered what the fuck was wrong with him. He was as good as any of these other guys. He was awkward, sure, but he was younger, hotter, and fresher thanmost other patrons here tonight. Was he not deserving? Had he made a terrible mistake, expecting too much? He began to think he should not have come with his roommates to a place out of his league.

Exiting his prey’s mind, Corey nearly rolled his eyes at the drama.As rich as any of Euripides’ tragedies. Young mortals are always so theatrical.He found it both charming and chafing.

Visibly unmoved by his prey’s emotional distress, the god chose to remain a mystery.

Corey began walking back to the other side of the stage. He turned his attention to the DJ booth, and reaching out with his power, Corey mentally commanded Big G to end the light show. Then, using his uncanny swiftness, the god exited the stage, leaving only an empty, darkened performance space.

When the regular club lighting came back on, Corey, watching backstage, saw that the crowd had fallen silent, having just witnessed seduction in its raw, unrelenting, unforgiving form. And they had loved every fucking second of it. They wanted more, of course. Men always wanted more. But Corey was finished with them.

Well, all save one.

OLYMPIUS

The Past

CORIOLANUS, roaring with frustration and outrage, charged with the ferocity of a lion, fists ablaze in front of him, prepared to break Olympius’ bones and crush his skull. Reason had left him; he saw only red.

Olympius recognized that his newly immortal creation, in a rage entirely misdirected, wished to dash his brains out into the cold night air; still, he continued to find the situation amusing—and highly erotic. He watched as Coriolanus’ muscles bulged, veins filled with the potent ichor of the gods. And thoughhis handsome, bearded face twisted with emotional pain, the godling’s expressive eyes were aflame with fierce purpose.

It was brutal, aggressive, and deliciously male, precisely what Olympius expected from a Roman General. It was what he desired from his chosen warrior-god.

Smiling adoringly, Olympius easily side-stepped the charge. Thrusting his right arm forward, he caught the enraged Coriolanus’ neck in an unbreakable grasp and effortlessly lifted him clear off the ground. Olympius constricted the godling’s throat by adding incredible pressure until he deemed his warrior-god had sufficiently calmed himself.

“While no immortal needs to breathe air to exist, the agonizing sensation of strangulation is still significantly felt, yes? Struggle all you want, beloved, but it is pointless. Your newly enhanced strength is formidable, but mine is absolute and as vast as the body of Nyx, the night sky, the goddess known to you as Nox.”

To the Titan’s ultimate detriment, Coeus had ensured Atlas-like strength in his child, near his level, but now imbued with his dead Maker’s power, Olympius possessed unimaginable strength.

The new godling continued to pull and punch, desperate to extricate himself from the agonizing hold, but Olympius’ skin was as marble, impenetrable except by his hand. Orwill, as when he had foolishly allowed Coeus to penetrate his godly flesh with his deplorable form of love. Olympius swore never to place himself in such a vulnerable state again—except for his Coriolanus. And him alone.

When he felt his would-be assailant was capable of rational thought, Olympius released him from the vice-like hold. Coriolanus instinctively took several steps back to create some measure of strategicdistance to gather his faculties and assess the situation he now found himself in. Olympius was glad the godling was a quick study in realizing that chaotic brute force would not aid him. Words and patience were the tools he needed at this time.

“You have done well, Coriolanus. By attacking me, you have struck back at your failure to see Aufidius’ traitorous nature and rebuked your mother’s manipulations. At least the attempt was made, for do I not remind you of them in some small measure, either in words, actions or appearance?

“Did my words not also ignite within you an unquenchable desire, a thirst for more, for everything you so rightly deserve? Yes, looking at the fire in your eyes, I can see it has. And I shall ignite more in you.

“We gods are creatures of limitless passions and unbridled senses, all enhanced due to our divinity. Embrace this. Mortals rarely flourish alone, but gods exist magnificently as solitary beings. All that destroyed you in your mortality will be your undaunted weapons in your new reality.

“Take pride in your rebirth as The Eternal. Scorn the hearth of the family, for it will do you no good as you are no longer a part of humanity. But you have gained immeasurably more. You have true power now, Coriolanus, which can grant you all your heart’s desires.

“Do you want revenge? On Aufidius? How would you like to rake your claws down his back again? Only this time, I promise they will cause him misery and pain, not pleasure—unless that is what you desire. And you can have both easily. Would you tear at his throat? What of your mother? Would you lash out at her as you did to me? It is no less than what she deserves.

“The world is now your garden, Coriolanus, savage as it often is. To plant and to reap. To create and to destroy. To love and to hate. And all on a level your mortal mind could never have comprehended, truly beyond any peasant or king’s wildest dreams.

---