Hades and Seph

by Eileen Glass

  And Seph nods, evaluating his options. Should he strive to protect his enemy again? Minthe is meant to be paying for his crime with his exile, and Seph could use Hecate’s power and see that his word is followed. But in the end, he goes with the advice of a scroll written by a wise ruler.

  Execution laws do not teach future criminals, but they do ease the suffering of families.

  He decides to let them both be. And then he inquires about Hades.

  Hermes likes a bit of romance and dramatics, so his words are always especially entertaining

  “He looks out his window with a long sigh every evening and thinks about your round tush and your strong shoulders.” Seph punches him in the arm, and they jostle a bit, mock wrestling. But secretly, later, Hermes’s playful words will be thought of by his lonely heart. “He whispers your name while he’s picking flowers! And once I saw him break down crying on the balcony. ‘Oh, Seph, my love!’ he said, and he held his face in his hands, in tears!”

  “Tell him I’m coming home soon,” Seph says when he manages to pry himself out of a headlock. He still loses to Hermes, but he’s getting better. “Three more weeks and we will finish harvesting. Then I will be gone.”

  Finally. At last.

  Sixty-Seven

  The night is warm and dark, and Hecate leads Seph further away from the house and even out past the fields. The bugs sing and the frogs are loud here. They’re near the giant pond. And Seph scans the stars for any dark shapes that might be blotting them out overhead. The sky is perfectly clear, so they’re probably not looking for his father. And Hermes wouldn’t land out here so far away from the house. He just left two days ago. So it’s not him.

  But Hecate says a god has called her. She says she feels it the way a dog feels a tug on a leash.

  “There are only a few people who could do that. Hades, my sisters, Styx and any of her children, maybe the god Poisedon—he’s powerful enough—and you.”

  And so Seph is scanning earnestly, but he’s trying not to get his hopes up.

  Hades is far too busy in the under—

  Seph takes off running as Hecate calls to him, “Master, do not rush!”

  But that is only because he saw the figure first. Four black horses and a chariot are parked under the distant tree on a hill. His knee has not given him any trouble in weeks, and his own god magic must propel his feet. He feels like the wind! Almost like he could jump into the air and take off by himself the way Hermes does.

  Hades stands next to his chariot, still and dressed regally with fur around his shoulders. His earrings are extravagant and his necklace is as hefty as a whole ore deposit. But Seph crashes into him without hesitation, throwing his arms around him, and then kissing his cheek. And then his lips, inserting his tongue, for he has forgotten that Hecate might be watching. Or that this might be a trap and a cruel mirage.

  Fortunately, none of that is so. Despite having embarrassed Zeus publicly on Mount Olympus, his summer has been quiet. He hasn’t even heard a whisper of Hera.

  And oh, Hades is so real under his fingers. And soft and warm under his cloak. Seph is quick to slide his hands under the layers of fabric and feel his husband’s waist (and his ass) with remembering hands. Hades also holds him tightly, and in the hot and humid weather of a Greek summer, Seph is not wearing the underclothes Hades despises. He does wear much longer chitons, however. One designed for a man and not a showing off athlete.

  “I expected your hair to be in curls,” Hades says, lifting a lock with one finger.

  “You should try it sometime if you want curls,” Seph says, grinning ear to ear. “It is agony.”

  “She did not overpower you.” It almost sounds like a question. Or a statement. Seph is unsure.

  “No. She couldn’t. I’ve been wanting to tell you something, but I didn’t want to share the secret with Hermes. I wasn’t sure if it was safe to share or not, and you know how he sells to others.”

  Hades tilts his head, intrigued. “I am glad I came early then. What secret do you have? And you know, you could have sent a coded message to tell me. I would’ve figured out.”

  “It is not that urgent, but… my mother is the same as I am. She is not a powerful god.”

  Seph hears footsteps behind him. It is only Hecate approaching. She wears an unpleasant expression of dislike, but lately between her and Hades there is dislike and trust. They would have worked together to protect him from Zeus if it was necessary.

  She is like my hound, Seph realizes, thinking of Cerberus.

  He even misses the grumpy, fierce dog back home. But it is not time, and even as he speaks to explain his mother’s magic, his hands are traveling over Hades’s clothes. Treasuring him.

  “She confessed to me something I already knew—or I mean, something I was already supposed to know. She has the same defect I have. Both of us can’t feel or command our magic. She didn’t want to kill so many humans and animals and freeze the Earth with her grief. She wasn’t doing it on purpose to pressure Zeus into capturing me. She was just sad. And when she is sad, the Earth is not warmed by the sun.”

  He adds, though he feels it is unnecessary detail given the solution he’s worked up:

  “Or I am doing it. I am always warm, you know, so it is an option. Neither of us will ever figure it out since we are magic-mute. But either way, it changes nothing. She can’t be happy unless I’m here. So, in order for the humans to prosper…” Seph shrugs, but that does not mean he is cavalier. Feelings of depression are rising again, even though he was joyous just moments before. There is nothing he loves more than the underworld, or more than Hades, the man who embodies it. Elysium is Hades, and Seph loves him.

  He explains, more sadly, “The humans have to prosper in order to grow. In order to become more wise and accomplished. They eventually will come down to the underworld, so it is like I am building up our kingdom as well. Just, from this side.”

  “Seph, don’t do this to me.” Hades looks like he’s trying to control his features, but his frown is deepening. “I did not know this about Demeter, and I suspect she might be lying to you. She might be trying to take you from me. I don’t want you to hate me, so please don’t ask me to—”

  “You didn’t let me finish.” Seph shushes him quickly and manages a smile. “I’m not leaving you. And also, I don’t think she is lying. There are little things about her that are very human-like—and very me, come to think of it. Like how she takes the chariot everywhere. Can you think of any other god that rides a human chariot to go between cities? You don’t count obviously. Your horses fly. But her? Even long distances she must take by chariot or with Hecate’s help.

  “And then there are her temples. My mother makes collecting from the temples look like running a business, whereas Zeus and Dionysus and all the other gods treat them like curiosities, sometimes appearing for the offering and accepting the acquisition, but only when it amuses them. Do you see what I mean?”

  Hades admits slowly, “No one is particularly close to Demeter except for you. No one has observed her personal life with any great interest. I suppose… when she is upset, her magic causes her to grow big? She has tried to stomp on Zeus a few times, you know. But come to think of it, I have never seen her hurl magic or enchant weapons before. I’ve always thought it’s because she is gentle.”

  “She is,” Seph says. “And I’m truthfully the only family she has. I’m the only one she cares about. Whether I am the one warming the Earth or it is her for her happiness to have me, my solution for the matter remains the same.”

  “I won’t let her keep you,” Hades says, tightening his hold on him.

  “No, Hades. She won’t keep me the entire time. Just until the Earth warms enough for the crops to grow. Then I can come back and help you look after the underworld again. That is how we will prosper. Not just the humans, but the Earth and the underworld together. I will spend half the year here to make sure that the summers are warm. And when the crop is ready to harvest, I will retur
n to you. The winters will be a little colder from now on, and Elysium will see a mild surge of citizens each year. Our harvesting time will be opposite the upperworld’s. And I will look after the whole thing, making sure the yields on both ends remain stable.”

  Sixty-Eight

  Hecate strolls off in the direction of the human houses, told to stand where she cannot hear him unless he yells, and ordered to use her magic to make sure no one interrupts them. She mutters, grumpily, “Yes, master.” But there is also a subtle smirk on her features, as though she finds her orders both laborious and amusing.

  Seph can’t take Hades’s clothes off fast enough. And he wears so much of them! Initially when coming here, Seph wanted both kings of the underworld to match, but he’s spent so long in the tropical Greek weather that he can’t remember why anyone anywhere would ever wear pants.

  He gets them off though, and they kneel together in the grass. Hades pushes him to lie on his back, and then his limber, lean lover straddles over him, taking both their cocks in his hands, rubbing against him.

  There is never a better look for Hades than when he is dreamy eyed and panting atop him, his long hair straying messily, or draping onto Seph’s chest whenever he leans close.

  Still, despite this being everything he’s ever wanted all summer, Seph feels like he’s rushing to put his physical needs before other concerns.

  “Why did you leave early? And how did you get time to get away?”

  He rubs Hades thighs as well and thinks about kissing his nipples. He has missed every asset of Hades while he’s been away.

  “I have not been so busy lately,” Hades says and lifts himself up. He aims Seph’s cock underneath and lets himself down slowly.

  Seph wants to force him on faster. There is sometimes a selfish, evil part of him that likes being called stallion and wants to use Hades. But today it won’t get to play. He curls an arm under his head and lays back, being the spoiled, expectant prince instead.

  “And why are you early?” he asks with a bit of haughty, unappreciative tone. “I said three weeks, not three days.”

  “I couldn’t wait,” he answers, holding himself on his hands over Seph, and his body begins to move. Their eyes lock, and Seph finds himself trapped here, as much mounting Hades as Hades is mounting him. He loves the tight squeeze on his cock. How Hades quivers when Seph reaches the best place inside him. And he loves that Hades moves him in and out, finding so much pleasure for himself on Seph’s cock. It makes him feel submissive, in a way.

  And he also likes to be showered in ego-boosting compliments.

  “Ah, my stallion. You’re so big. And so full as well. You haven’t had your king to look after you.”

  “I miss you every night,” Seph answers with a smile, loopy with emotions in need. There is nothing better than Hades in the moonlight, even if his horses make a lot of noisy jostling and shuffling sounds nearby. Even in the shade, they find the starlight uncomfortable.

  And Seph says, thinking of them, “But you must go back to wait for me.” He groans and grabs onto Hades’s hips. He is starting to move much too fast, and Seph never wants this to end. “It’s not time yet.”

  “Then I will make it a mandate to sneak in time with you, whenever I can. Seph, if you think I am going to be fair and share you with your mother half the—”

  “No, don’t say mother!”

  They both laugh breathlessly, and then it is nothing but physical movement, and Seph discovers one enormous disadvantage to the underworld… He has never tasted Hades’s sweat before. As soon as he notices a gleam on his husband’s neck, Seph picks himself up and laps his tongue across his husband’s skin. He is not content with just that. He rolls them so that he is on top, a hand behind one of Hades’s knees, holding him open, and he watches his cock buried and thrusting in his husband’s little ass. And then sees Hades’s long and lovely cock spurt with cum.

  He arches his back and bites into his fist when he does it, somehow looking shy and cute despite having no concept of modesty.

  Seph decides to plow him hard then. Purposefully, he holds back and lasts as long as he can because he knows when this is over, it is over. He will have to wait a long three weeks to see Hades again.

  He falls over Hades so that they are face to face, nose to nose. He still keeps that one knee in the air, driving into his husband.

  “Every month at least. You will see me. Your king demands it.”

  “My stallion, I won’t miss.”

  But Seph decides he still has to make this time count. He pulls out and positions Hades again, this time on his knees with his butt pointed up at Seph. Seph spreads him open, looking at his wanting, pliable hole. And he remembers what his husband did to him, what he wanted to do if only he had stayed around long enough to have the chance.

  He lowers himself and licks over that hole. One extensive, lapping sweep. And then he pushes his slick cock inside again, broadening the space, making sure Hades will feel him for nights to come. He stays on the edge so long that when he finishes, it is not so much a release as it is a final extension of pleasure, his peak already reached and sustained, but the climax letting him find satisfaction from it.

  He can feel himself fill Hades as the hole sucks on him tightly at the same time.

  As they both roll into the grass, Seph catches his breath, and he feels something minute crawling around his knee, but he is too exhausted to bother with a flick. His cock lays against his stomach, thick, heavy, and fully milked.

  “I miss you,” he says. “Did I say that? I miss you, I love you, and…” He doesn’t just want to use his husband for sex and then dress and say goodbye. He wants Hades to know about the emotions as well. The love. The combined adventure and misery of this long separation.

  A mangled mix of Hermes’s mockery comes to mind.

  “I look up at the stars at night and cry about you. I hold my face in my hands and sigh, ‘Oh, Hades!’”

  He rolls onto his side then so he can laugh and look at his husband. But also, he finds a thumb moving a strand of hair away from his Hades’s lips. Then Seph kisses him.

  When they part, Hades asks, “Have you been spying on Hermes with a listening spell? That would be impressive work against the God of Whispers.”

  Seph chuckles. “I knew he would tell some bullshit about me.”

  But both of them know by their loving gaze that Hermes spoke the truth to each of them.

  Sixty-Nine

  The day finally comes. Seph stays a little longer and works almost entire days and nights to fill the storehouses up faster. He sees that his mother’s staff and slaves are well-provided for, so they can continue working long hours without him, and then he works a little more. Just to provide extra bread that will save a dozen humans from entering the land of the underworld this summer.

  It still seems there’s so much work to be done while he is leaving, but he knows Hades has already been generous with his patience. He won’t accept another delay, and though Seph has come to be friends with many of his mother’s servants, the same way he’s become friends with Verah, Sefkh, and Alfric…

  The upperworld is no substitute for his real home. His place in darkness.

  Saying goodbye to Demeter would be easy except that she makes it difficult. In the days leading up to his departure, Demeter has nothing but evil things to say about Hades. Particularly, about how he’s failed Seph and damaged ‘her baby boy’.

  She gets to utter that phrase one time in front of him, and then Seph towers over her and says once, firmly, “I am King Persephone of the Underworld. And you will not disgrace my name again.”

  She is silent then the following day, the very last day before he is to leave, and Seph spends much of it feeling guilty, but he does not let himself make amends for that guilt. He is willing to call on Hecate to curb his mother’s tongue, even if calling him baby boy was a slip into an old habit.

  She doesn’t seem to treat him the same. She certainly hasn’t tried to curl his
hair or choose his clothing for him yet. So it was probably just a mistake.

  Morning comes, and he and Hecate rise early and don clothes for travel. Seph will take nothing else with him, leaving all his possessions in his room to be picked up when he comes back. And they travel out to the edge of the farmlands, Seph admiring the yellow sunlight through the trees, joyously saying goodbye though finding it beautiful at the same time, when he and Hecate turn to the sound of distant yelling behind him.

  “Wait! Wait, Seph! Don’t leave yet!”

  His mother runs toward him with bare feet, wearing a plain beige frock secured hastily around her waist with a belt, and her hair is a mess like she just got out of bed. She has yesterday’s makeup smudged around her eyes, and it doesn’t look bad at all in Seph’s opinion. But he was certainly not expecting her here, so he and Hecate share perplexed glances.

  “You can’t go yet!” Demeter says as she reaches him. “We still have the roof to repair. And the cows to feed. And all the hungry people out there. Seph, you know—” She grabs his hand and goes to her knees on the ground. Seph’s eyes widen, for he’s never seen a goddess of any kind kneel in the dirt like that, ruining her dress. She begs him, “—you know that I can’t stop the world from becoming ice again! It’s not me, I think it’s you! Zeus is going to come after me again, and he’s going to beg me, and he’s going to say—he—he’s going to say you’re responsible! He’ll only punish me for letting you leave. Please, come back to the house with me.”

  Seph recognizes this game of manipulation and stalling, but he also sees that his mother is terrified he won’t come back. The same as Hades.

  Either I am extremely unlucky to be trapped between two insecure gods… or I may be the only son of Zeus to be this well-loved by my family.

  His family excludes Zeus himself of course. His mother never manipulated him into believing lies about his father. She truly has his best interests at heart. And for that, Seph loves her and is grateful to her.