Work Text:
“No souls today, my good colleague. Your esteemed brother was quite thorough. I was in the area and thought I’d just pop in to say hello!”
Hermes jumped onto Charon’s ship, not waiting for his invitation. He was pretty sure Charon didn’t mind and if you were as fast as him, you got used to doing first and apologising later if need be.
Charon gave a low rumble. Under the deep shadow of the brim of his hat, Hermes could only see the dim glow of his eyes, and admittedly his face was rather inexpressive, anyway, on account of being a skull with some skin stretched over it; but since he hadn’t been smacked with the oar like the odd unruly soul yet, Hermes took that as an invitation to make himself comfortable.
Once upon a time, he had found the shimmering, purple glow of Charon’s eyes unsettling, especially paired with his groans, but nowadays, he welcomed these long, thoughtful looks. Charon did not spare them to people who didn’t interest him.
Charon touched the railing and then pointed towards the walls of the Temple of Styx. “Nnnggh.”
“Outside? You want to go on a joyride?” Hermes asked, pleasantly surprised. It was the first time Charon had brought up anything like that. “Sounds like a splendid idea!”
“Hhnnn,” Charon made thoughtfully, gesturing at Hermes.
It took him a moment to realize that he was pointing specifically at some of the correspondence piled in the bag he wore around his shoulder, namely scrolls decorated with the sigils of his family.
“My folks? Don’t worry about them. They never look too closely at anything around the Temple of Styx. The darkness still makes it hard to see even outside.”
Some amount of contact between Hermes and Charon was suffered by everybody in silence, since their professional relationship was needed to keep souls moving in their intended direction. However, Hermes wouldn’t have mentioned to the family back home that Charon was taking him out on a cruise down the river – even though he privately he felt pretty damned accomplished to have earned Charon’s favour. It had only taken him a few centuries.
With excitement only fuelling his brimming energy, Hermes found himself tapping his staff against the boat. Charon glanced briefly at it and then held its oar next to it in comparison. Hermes had to laugh. The similarity in shape couldn’t be denied.
“You’re going to have to give me another oar if you want me to help paddling! I keep that staff too clean to stick it into a bloody river,” Hermes said.
Charon shook his head, dipping the oar into the Styx as he pointed at one of the benches. Hermes fell down with a smile as Charon moved to the stern and propelled them towards the centre of the river.
The Styx flowed towards a secret opening in the walls of the cave. Roots of old, gnarled trees dipped into the red river and statues of three-headed dogs watched visitors, illuminated by sparse lanterns and candles flickering in the dark, surrounded by columns reaching up towards the ceiling of the cavernous hall. Hermes usually took the front door past the real Cerberus when he wanted inside the Temple, but sometimes he had come on board outside with his charges to make the transition easier for particularly frightened souls.
“You know, I always thought this place was pretty dreary. No wonder people get worried. Ever thought about putting up a little more light?”
Charon’s answer of “hhrrrgh,” sounded almost amused. He glanced over at a crumbling statue of Hades that they had only just passed.
“Ah, you’re right. It wouldn’t be fair to make them expect it gets nicer downstairs.”
Stone closed in around them and the bends of the waterway grew sharp and sudden, but Charon steered the boat securely. They emerged through the winding path out of the wall. The boat parted the cascade of vines that hid the entrance. Not that it was necessary – by some old magic, other boats than Charon’s always ended up dashed on the banks of the deceptively quiet river. Not that many mortals were foolhardy enough to come close to this place, anyway.
Hermes leaned back comfortably on his hands. Sunlight fell through the leaves overhead, the heat of a hot summer day rushing in after the perpetual damp cold that filled the Temple of Styx, its large stone blocks keeping any warmth from penetrating. He didn’t usually enjoy travelling at such a leisurely pace, but around Charon, he didn’t mind things to slow down if it meant they’d spent that time together.
Indeed, the blue sky and green trees were not the most interesting thing to watch here, he thought, as he swerved his gaze over to his companion. Though now outside of the perpetual twilight of Styx, Charon still seemed to carry shadows with him in the folds of his robe, under his hat, on his pallid skin, as if he himself somehow produced darkness – wouldn’t be strange for a son of Nyx. Hermes found the contrasts striking: his black-robed figure against the green foliage, the sun catching in the golden rings and chains of coins.
Charon slowed the boat at a spot where the leaves fully covered the sky and let it meet the river bank, which was soft with moss, thick grass and flowers of a dozen colours.
“Good choice, boss,” Hermes noted.
Charon rumbled thoughtfully as he pulled the oar out of the water and laid it across the benches. He held still for a moment, with only his hands moving, turning one of his rings on his finger. Hermes smiled and patted the seat next to him.
“Here, you’ve been doing all the work. Sit down.”
Charon folded his tall figure onto the bench next to him. Looking to the ground, Hermes saw Charon’s feet for the very first time as his pale toes poked out under the robe.
“Good to take a moment away from the job like this,” Hermes mused. “We should do this more often.”
Charon muttered wordlessly in agreement.
“I’m betting you don’t get enough sunlight, either. You should get out a little more.”
This time, Charon shook his head. He kept his glowing eyes on Hermes.
“Oh – I see. You’re not here for the sun,” Hermes said, a smile slowly spreading over his face.
“Haaaah,” Charon made, turning the ring on his finger again.
Hermes was never one to dally and this was about as much encouragement as he needed, more than he’d even hoped for from his quiet associate. He leaned in.
Charon didn’t precisely have lips to kiss, but Hermes thought pressing his mouth against Charon’s teeth made the point quite clearly. Charon reached out and grabbed his shoulders. His skin was cool, but his grip firm enough that Hermes felt heat rise in him, anyway.
Hermes rested a hand on Charon’s waist. He had longed to explore if Charon looked like a human under his robes. With how long the thought had been in his head, he really cared very little about the answer to the question at this point – whatever he would find, he would be glad to work with it. Mapping Charon’s side, he felt that his ribcage and hipbones stood out so prominently he could easily trace their shape, the dip of his middle between them.
“Say, boss, did I ever tell you about my side-gig as a fertility god?” Hermes asked with a grin, leaning back.
“Uhhnn.”
Charon cocked his head in a way that definitely expressed curiosity when Hermes ran quick fingers up Charon’s heavy collar to release the clasps at the back. As he pulled it off with Charon’s help, the heavy robes fell under their own weight, pooling on the bench. Were Charon a human, he would clearly have been emaciated, every bone and every muscle standing against his skin, but his face made it clear the skeletal look was probably just a general feature. The robes had dropped just so that Hermes could not see much between his legs, but the root of a cock proved Charon wasn’t all bones. With an appreciative grin, Hermes teased his fingers over the muscle of his chest and stomach.
“All that rowing really works wonders for you,” he said.
With a rough sigh, Charon let his hand run down Hermes’s arm, but he moved away from him after a moment. Hermes felt his cock twitch when he saw Charon kneel and realised what his plans where. He eagerly spread his knees and let Charon slide between them.
The aforementioned other job had the happy side-effect that Hermes had never left even the most size-focused partners unsatisfied. Whether Charon was one of them, he could not say, though, since his broad hat currently hid his entire face, and in fact most of his upper body.
Hermes grabbed it by the brim and pulled it off, revealing his shoulder-length, bone-coloured hair. Charon growled.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep it on the bench next to me. I want to see!” Hermes said, running his hand through Charon’s strands, winding them around his fingers before he smoothed his palm over his head. “Besides, it would be a shame if I couldn’t touch you, don’t you think?”
It seemed he had convinced Charon, since the next noise was conciliatory. He folded Hermes’s tunic out of the way. The underclothes were easily taken apart, his rings brushing over the insides of his thighs. When Charon took his cock in his hand, he gave a sound that sounded almost like a purr, albeit a rather dark one, more Nemean lion than cat. Hermes felt it up and down his spine, his cock already rising against Charon’s palm. His hand was cold, but with the heated summer air all around them, Hermes found himself shivering in pleasure at that contrast.
“What now?” he asked Charon with interest.
One had to admit Charon was at a bit of a disadvantage here, not having any lips and quite prominent teeth. Charon, however, only glanced up at him and then opened his mouth wide, sticking out his tongue. It was a little more lukewarm than the rest of him, slick with spit like that of a human, and it created a brilliantly soft entranceway for Hermes’s cock when Charon leaned forward and, without a hitch, led Hermes’s manhood down into his throat.
Hermes’s fingers tangled in his hair, gripping it more tightly. Charon gave one of his groans and Hermes felt it vibrate all around him, making his toes curl.
“I see you’re moving at my speed,” he joked breathlessly.
Charon gripped his calves, ran his hands up to the knees, and tugged them gently forward. It was a good thing he was so practiced at communicating without words because Hermes immediately understood what Charon wanted him to do.
He took Charon’s head securely in his hands, feeling the sharp, angular bones contrast against his soft hair. To nobody’s surprise, he preferred fast and hard over slow and languid, but with human partners, you had to be a bit careful not to leave them rattled. Luckily, Charon didn’t seem bothered at all when Hermes gave a few experimental thrusts at his preferred speed, and so Hermes allowed himself to loosen the reins.
Charon’s grip on his calves tightened, fingers digging deep into his flesh to gain some purchase. Hermes’s breath came in short bursts. He’d imagined sleeping with Charon so often – though admittedly the details had been hazy, not knowing the contents of his robes – that this only felt half real. However, the details where what you could never imagine perfectly: the glow of Charon’s eyes in the eternal shadows of his face as he looked up at Hermes, the pressure of strong hands holding Hermes’s legs as firmly as he did the oar, the tight squeeze of his throat that was too cool to be that of any human or warm-blooded god.
“I think I’ll be fast this time – I promise in this matter, I’m not always!” he gasped out, grinning at Charon. “You’ve just got my head all turned around, boss.”
This time, he could only feel the rumble of Charon’s voice, the sound lost among Hermes’s own low moans and the wet sound of him thrusting into Charon’s mouth at rapid speed. The boat rocked with the movement, thumping quietly against the bank. Since Charon made no attempt to escape him even after the warning, Hermes came down his throat, riding out the blissful moment until the last second.
“Sorry for doubting you, mate, should have known better!” Hermes noted, still catching his breath, as he smoothed his fingers over Charon’s cheek bones. “You’ve worked out a good strategy there.”
Charon pulled off Hermes’s cock before he gave an agreeing groan. When he rose, the tangle of his robes finally falling fully away, Hermes saw Charon’s own cock standing. The head was almost grey where it had filled with blood. Charon gave it a gentle tap with his forefinger.
“My turn!” he said, jumping to his feet. “And I think I’ve already got an idea. Say, why don’t you turn around and hold on to the bow of the boat? Your backside is one part I haven’t had time to admire yet and I’m sure it’s just as nice as the rest of you.”
The suggestion was taken after Charon regarded him for another moment with his unmoving face. Hermes allowed himself a little time to take in the broad shoulders and thin waist, muscles flexing as Charon grabbed on to the manifold skulls at the bow. His ass was unsurprisingly on the thinner side, but well-formed with muscle. Hermes kneeled on the bench to get in position when he noticed, from the corner of his eye, the eyeballs at the side of the boat staring at him.
“Your boat isn’t going to rat us out, is it, boss?” he asked, frowning at the bulging eyeballs.
Charon waved his hand to wipe the idea away and shook his head. Hermes wondered briefly if the boat was just a little sentient, at least on the level of someone like good old Cerberus – but if that was the case, it was probably on Charon’s side, anyway.
He gladly turned his attention back to the main event, grabbing Charon’s ass with both hands and massaging it as he pressed a few smiling kisses on his skin. After he had thoroughly enjoyed the firmness of his backside, he dropped one hand to feel the weight of Charon’s balls in his hand and held his cheeks apart with the other as his kisses wandered deeper between the halves of his ass.
Charon made a small, dark noise when Hermes’s mouth first connected with his entrance. Since Charon had done him the same favour, Hermes did not let him wait and plunged his tongue into him. His skin, inside and out, tasted a little like ashes, but Hermes did not let that distract him as he teased the tight muscles with his lips.
With a promise to himself that he would spend some quality time exploring Charon’s cock on the next occasion, he grabbed Charon’s free hand and led it to Charon’s own manhood so that Hermes could use both hands to pull Charon’s cheeks apart, giving himself perfect access.
Charon stood remarkably still except for the busy movement of his hand on his cock as Hermes started swirling his tongue over his hole, then pressed it inside again. However, his groans had taken on a new quality – urgent, shorter, hitching and breaking into more voiceless sounds. Oh, he definitely had to hear a whole lot more of that, Hermes decided.
Apparently sucking Hermes off had spurred Charon towards a certain hastiness himself. He quickly began to protest with unhappy growls whenever Hermes decided to move his head away, and even eventually pushed a little against his face. Hermes breathed a laugh against his ass, bit gently at the sensitive, puckered skin before licking him, teasing the tip of his tongue inside him again and then pressed it as far in as he could while Charon came over his own hand with a long moan.
Hermes sat back. After a moment of standing motionless statue, Charon stepped away from the bow of the boat to dip his hand in the river Styx. For a moment, the wind overhead moved the leaves and a sunbeam fell on him, driving the shadows as far back as Hermes suspected they could be. Even in the stark light of day, which was so much not his element, Charon was impossibly handsome.
“Now that’s what I call a nice day out,” Hermes said, grinning, as he reached over to the other bench and offered Charon his hat back.
Charon nodded before pulling the wide brim down into his eyes again. He grabbed his robes to sling them over his shoulders, but did not yet put his wide golden collar with its many jangling coins back on, but sat by Hermes’s side instead. Hermes put his arm around his shoulders, hiding his own head from the sun under the brim of Charon’s hat.
“This would probably not please our employers too much,” he admitted slowly.
“Nnhh.” Charon nodded his head.
“Fortunately, this doesn’t have to be a barrier to us doing this again, does it?” Hermes heard the hope in his own voice. “You see, a messenger has to be able to keep a secret, and you, well, you’re not the most talkative guy, anyway. It could work.”
Charon could not smile, nor laugh from anything Hermes had heard, but the way he tilted his head towards him and grabbed his wrist was answer enough, and Hermes thought he felt happiness in it, too.
“It’s a deal, then,” Hermes decided.