Unspoken Thoughts

by PoutyBats

Summary:

The island is cursed, but there is one final thing he has not tried, something entirely out of his control, something more like a fleeting final hope: a plea for divine intervention.

Though it has been years since he contacted Athena, or seen Hermes, or anyone for that matter, he knows it is this or nothing.

He forces his mouth open and with his remaining sanity he calls out,

“Poseidon!”

Wait, what?
_

Odysseus decides to call out to Athena for help, but the name that leaves his mouth instead makes his head spin.

Notes:

Poseidon appearance is inspired by Neal-illustrator (mostly the water arm), but not a one to one.

Bluesky: sgtspacedad76
Tumblr: princelybunny

Edit [04/04/25]: Edited subject pronouns.

Chapter 1: End Of The Rope

The voices are merciless in Odysseus’ mind.

Penelope, his mother, Eurylochus, Polites, and so many other men whose names and voices come in waves.

“All I hear are screams,” he whispers.

Odysseus feels a hand reach for his shoulder and he immediately shrugs it off. He turns his head slightly and spots Calypso’s worrisome gaze. He shakes his head and turns his eyes back to the sea.

“Ody, get away from the ledge,” she says but it sounds more like a demand.

“You don't know what I've gone through...”

“It will be fine, dear…”

The two of them go back and forth for a moment, but her voice quickly begins to fade into the amalgamation of people already haunting him.

He had already tried so hard to escape. Odysseus tried to make a raft, he tried to seduce the woman behind him, hell he even tried digging down for something, anything of use. He went through so many plans and countless ideas, but all of them ended in the same result.

He is stuck.

Half the time it's Calypso that drags him back, arms wrapping around him so tightly that he suffocates a little more each time. The other times it's the island itself reminding him that there is no escape.

No one can leave.

He finds himself on the ledge of a cliff, staring out at the angry seas as a storm taunts him with memories he wishes to forget; the soft skin of his wife, his infant son’s smile, Polites’ hopeful words, his mother’s patient agony that her son has yet to return, and Eurylochus’ last resigned look at him. A sob escapes Odysseus, and tears begin to leave a trail down his aging face.

He is rapidly growing old on this cursed island with a woman he does not love, and a touch that feels like daggers.

All he can hear are screams, yells, and dying words.

“No more,” Odysseus swallows thickly.

The island is cursed, but there is one final thing he has not tried, something entirely out of his control, something more like a fleeting final hope: a plea for divine intervention.

Though it has been years since he contacted Athena, or seen Hermes or anyone for that matter, he knows it is this or nothing.

Calypso has shown that she will not let him take his own life in peace.

As the voices in his head grow louder, and louder, he shuts his eyes.

Waiting, waiting…

Before he opens his mouth to call to the gods, a thought occurs to him.

It has been so long since he has seen Ithaca, his wife, his son — how does he know they are still alive? So many years have passed. So many people would want a king’s throne, or worse, to attack an unprotected land while their king is gone.

What if he’s trying to return to a place that no longer exists?

What if Ithaca is as much a shadow as he?

Bile rises in his throat, and he hisses at his doubt. His hardened hands grip his sides and he hugs himself, begging his body to keep himself together while his mind cannot. If he has no hope, then what is left of the infamous Odysseus?

He forces his mouth open and with his remaining sanity he calls out,

“Poseidon!”

Wait, what?

Everything freezes.

His eyes shoot open as the name leaves his mouth. His jaw drops open, and goosebumps arise on his arms.

Impossible, of all the gods he could have called out to, why — why did he call him?

“You’re mad,” Calypso mutters behind him. She knows from many restless nights of the impossible journey that Odysseus suffered night terrors from.

She must be correct, he thinks. I've gone insane. I've truly lost my mind.

“You’ll be lucky if your pleas are ignored,” she says, once again placing a hand on his shoulder. “Surely you would rather spend your time here with me than suffering at the hand of the god who took everything from you?”

Odysseus says nothing as she speaks, her words feeling so very far away.

As he tries to calm his chaotic thoughts, he realizes at some point that the storm has entirely paused. Dark clouds still lurk above, threatening to release themselves at the drop of a pin.

He takes a step backwards, “Something is wrong.”

The hand on his shoulder tightens, and when Odysseus turns his head to see why, he sees an expression he has never seen on Calypso in all his years with her. Her eyebrows are pinched together, her usual smile has been replaced with a deep frown, and her eyes are unfocused.

Horror.

Her hand slips from his shoulder, and when he returns his gaze to the sea he understands why.

The water ripples below, no longer viscous waves pounding against the cliff side, but a calm sea surrendering to something much greater. It parts itself as something large begins to ascend from below. A familiar royal blue color emerges from the depths and shoots up in front of Odysseus.

This is it, he thinks, I have called for my own death, like a fool.

The clawed watery appendage opens and Odysseus closes his eyes, waiting for the god of the seas, that he asked for no less, to finally end their long game of cat and mouse.

“Don’t go,” Calypso whispers, breaking the silence almost immediately.

“Go?” Odysseus once again opens his eyes, not to greet his doom but to witness the blue hand lower itself to the cliffside. “What is this?”

“Don’t leave me,” a tear filled Calypso reaches for his hand, and before he can think about it, his body recoils on itself and he finds himself falling backwards.

He falls right into the grasp of the god.

“No!” Calypso reaches out, and Odysseus is filled with an onslaught of conflicting emotions. He does not want this woman to touch him any longer, but surely her unwanted affection is better than a cruel and sick death by the god below?

He reaches out, but it’s futile.

The god’s hand closes and his claws act as the bars of a cage as it begins to descend.

Odysseus’ mind races as he is lowered, trying to think of any way out of this surreal scenario that he’s suddenly in. Nothing feasible enters his head. Instead, as the water below gets closer and closer, the unknown brings him back to thoughts of the Underworld.

There are so many people waiting; maybe his wife and son are waiting as well.

Who is he to keep them waiting any longer?

With an exhale, the remaining fight leaves the king of Ithaca and he resigns himself to his fate.

Perhaps that is why he called for Poseidon at his lowest point; he knows Poseidon can give him the gift of death. Poseidon will take his suffering away.

Water touches his skin as the god’s hand lingers above the sea for just a moment. Odysseus expects a punch of freezing cold, but the feeling never arrives. The water is lukewarm, almost inviting in the way it tickles his legs. He closes his eyes as his chiton begins to grow heavy, instantly drenched.

The rising waves cover his waist, his shoulders, then his neck. He does not take a final breath before he is pulled down entirely. He tries to think of nothing as his head is submerged. Odysseus hopes he drowns quickly.

His thought barely finishes because the moment he begins to invite the dark nothingness into his mind, the hand holding him accelerates downward. The movement catches him off guard and his mouth gapes open, searching for air that is no longer there.

He will die like his men before him. A fitting end.

The screams rise in a crescendo before dissipating all at once.

Odysseus’ mind goes blank.

Chapter 2: Loud Silence

Summary:

So startled was he at the thought that he died, that he had forgotten the very god he was supposed to die by.

A rising tide crashes against the beach, one after another, and Odysseus’ body yells at him to run. RUN!

Notes:

Thank you so much for all the kudos, comments, and bookmarks already! It means a lot to me. Don't expect back to back chapters often, I just couldn't wait.

Bluesky: sgtspacedad76
Tumblr: PrincelyBunny

Edit 04/04/25: Updated Poseidon's appearance slightly.

It's not the darkness of the Underworld that greets Odysseus when his eyes flutter open.

However, it is dark, and Odysseus has to blink a few times before he realizes his eyes are indeed open. The lack of light is not what makes his shoulders tense and his back straighten though, no. The breath on his neck is what has him jumping up and twisting around, hand reflexively reaching for a sword he lost long ago.

“Who—” his words die on his tongue when he begins to choke. His throat is painfully dry. His body does not waver, even as his choking turns into a coughing fit. Still, he sees nothing.

Whatever he is facing shifts around and Odysseus’ body moves forward, preparing to strike. He stops when he hears something that startles him to his core.

The sound of clacking on stone fills his ears, and he drops his arm. The creature releases a huff and begins to walk towards him. He decides to stay still as his mind races and tries to connect the dots of what is occurring. The creature breathes on his face, and that is the moment Odysseus makes the connection.

A horse stands before him, but only for a brief moment before it strides past him. The sound of galloping fills the darkness and soon it is a distant echo.

Odysseus crouches and touches the floor to confirm his suspicion. He is inside a cave, and for some reason a horse was keeping him company. Thinking it had to run off towards an exit, Odysseus shuffles over to a wall and places a hand on it. The cold stone bites at his skin and he realizes just how frigid it has become.

Was the horse keeping him warm?

He uses the wall to guide himself towards the sound of where the horse must have escaped. He travels slowly, unsure what to expect ahead. It does not take long for light to spill in from an opening. The sun shines down harshly as he reaches the exit, and Odysseus has to cover his eyes lest he lose his sight for a moment.

He is met with a sandy beach, and for one fleeting moment his chest grows tight with something he has not felt in so many agonizing years. He quickly spins around to decipher his location, but the distant land of Ithaca is not what welcomes him. His shoulders sink in disappointment.

A low nicker fills the air, and his attention turns to a large imposing animal. A stallion stands before him, looking down at him in an eerily familiar way that he can’t quite put his finger on. It has a luscious dark blue mane and a strong blue-gray body.

His mind tells him to try taming it to learn more of this unknown land quickly, but before he can reach a hand out the horse runs forward into the sea. The waves part for it and Odysseus immediately stops in his tracks.

That's right.

So startled he was that he was dead, that he had forgotten the very god he was supposed to die by.

A rising tide crashes against the beach, one after another, and Odysseus’ body yells at him to run. RUN!

His eyes dart to the side, desperate to find an escape route, but other than the long stretched beach and a cave behind him, the only thing left is a towering thick cliff that shows no steady path to climb it quickly.

He swallows thickly, his moment of escape passing once another rising tide pauses and splits open.

“You called me,” a voice booms.

Odysseus spots his glowing blue eyes first, and in that same second the screams in his head come pouring back. He winces, considers dropping his gaze, but clenches his fists and forces his eyes to stay focused on the approaching presence.

“Are you mocking me?” The voice continues, a watery arm forming at his side.

Poseidon.

He towers over Odysseus, not even having left his domain yet. His navy blue hair falls over his face, and Odysseus quickly notices that his braid has become undone over the years. Even darker fins flare out in warning on either side of his face above pointed ears.

A forged hand slams down and claws drag across the sand. “Odysseus of Ithaca, have you lost your hearing, or has your insanity claimed your voice?” Poseidon snarls and Odysseus can see sharp threatening teeth.

“You are heard to ignore,” Odysseus answers, unable to hide the bite in his voice.

Wrong answer, he thinks as Poseidon hisses and leans over. Two large arms crash down on either side of him and the resulting ground tremors cause him to lose his footing. He falls backwards and looks up at the god. Poseidon leans in close, and Odysseus has to crane his neck to keep Poseidon's gaze. Piercing blue, almost hypnotic eyes stare down at him.

“Idiot, you called me. Why?”

“Who better to get me off that damned island than a god who wants my head?” Odysseus spits back. His mouth speaks for his pride, but his mind yells at him to be quiet. He knows not how to pick his battles when it comes to immortal beings.

“Liar,” Poseidon answers easily. “Why did you call me, little king?”

Odysseus has to physically bite back another retort, especially as the nickname makes his chest burn. His gaze falters, the floor suddenly much more interesting.

“Why do you want to know so terribly? What will it change about how this all ends?” Odysseus sighs. When his body sinks into the sand below like a heavy anchor, he realizes just how exhausted he is. He has no idea how long he passed out, and his body has a growing hunger and thirst. He lets his eyelids droop as he looks up once more.

“I'm tired, Poseidon. I have nothing left, no men to command, and no idea if my family at home still walks this plane. In trying to combat the monsters of the world, all I did was become a monster myself.” Odysseus leans back into the sand. “I craved death. I called for you to end my suffering. To do to me as the sirens should have.”

Silence fills the air as Odysseus keeps Poseidon's gaze. He has nothing more to lose, therefore nothing left to fear.

The god’s eyes reveal nothing of his thoughts. He doesn't move an inch as he stares down at Odysseus. His hair curtains around the man, and swirling strands are the only indication that they haven't been frozen in time. Poseidon's mouth remains in a tight line, giving no hints to what he may be thinking.

Finally, as the sun begins to lower below the sea, Poseidon's form retreats.

“I must think,” he says.

“What?” Odysseus asks, wondering what there is to think about.

He sits up, but before he can open his mouth to ask anything else, Poseidon disappears.

“The one time I desire his ruthlessness and he denies me,” Odysseus laughs, but the sound is hollow. His lips curl into a broken smile as his mouth begins to tremble. “Damn it all.”

He retreats into the cave, ignoring his mind still trying to find a way out of this. It did not matter if he ran now, Poseidon would find him, if the dangers of this new mysterious land did not find him first.

Besides, his body may give out before then. His muscles ache, and every step he takes reminds him of how sore he is. More than that, his spirit is so so tired.

He dares not go too deep into the cave. Freezing to death sounds slow and torturous. He settles at the opening and rests his back against the cave wall. He closes his eyes, but a restful sleep is not what awaits him. He has not truly rested in over a decade.

As his mind drifts away, the voices return, as loud as ever.

Hands shoot out from the void and grab his arms, his legs, his waist and his face. Nails drag along his skin, dragging him down, down, down.

Gentle hands rest on his cheeks and a soft familiar kiss dusts his forehead.

A hug embraces him, and compared to the hands pulling him further into the unknown, the weight of the figure above him is the heaviest of all.

He sinks.

His eyes fly open and Odysseus gasps for air. One hand flies to his chest while the other sprawls on the floor to ground himself. The cold floor feels nice on his flushed skin, and it slowly brings him back to reality. He tries to raise the hand on the ground to his forehead to push his hair back, but it's impeded by something next to him.

A soft grunt is accompanied by a muzzle pressing against his arm. Odysseus meets the gaze of the same horse from before. They share a look, and something inside of him breaks. He wraps its arms around the animal and hugs it tightly.

It reminds him of another time in his life. It reminds him of a young king that still had a bright confident outlook on life, when his quick thinking mind felt like a gift instead of a curse.

He sinks into the feeling. The horse doesn't react at first, but after a few beats it curls into his touch. Odysseus finds himself nestled between the horse before he's able to drift off again. The horse lowers its head onto Odysseus’ lap, and that sensation is enough to lull him back to sleep.

Once more the hands begin to crawl up his legs, gripping his ankles tightly. They try to make Odysseus lose his footing, but as he falls forward he falls onto a strong body that keeps him upright.

He tightens his hand around the body and instinctively pulls his legs over it like he has done so many times before. The stallion below him huffs out and takes off running. Odysseus tightens his hands around its mane and the two of them run, far away, no destination needed as the wind brushes across his face.

The voices are drowned out and Odysseus allows a smile to grace his lips.

The next time he wakes up, the horse is gone.

A yawn rips its way out of him as he stretches his aching body. His body provides a few pops and Odysseus feels rejuvenated for the first time in a long time.

The voices aren't gone, but they are quiet, a low buzz compared to the thunderous storm they usually are.

He turns his head to the opening of the cave, wondering if he'll spot the horse there once again, but instead he is met with a collection of things. He stands up and walks over, kneeling down to take inventory.

Grass and logs pop out of one pile, and Odysseus makes quick work of making a fire. Being near the sea sends a constant chill down his spine, though he knows the drop in temperature is not the only reason why.

The next pile is even more alluring, and surprising. Three fish faintly flop about, still freshly caught. He spears them over a few sticks, and looks out into the body of water.

A moment passes and a gentle wave crawls up the sand before retreating.

Odysseus purses his lips.

The god would never, there is a better chance that it was the horse.

Odysseus huffs at the thought, counting down each second until the fish are ready to be plucked and devoured.

Once he has eaten and his body no longer feels like it's one bad step away from collapsing, Odysseus takes in the area around him.

He walks along the beach to try and mentally make a map in his head, but the beach seems to go on forever. He turns and tries the other direction, but the result is the same. He turns around to the lingering colossal cliff and he hums.

He needs fresh water, and he would rather fall from a large cliff than wait around and hope Poseidon provides anything for him.

That settles that.

Odysseus feels along the cliffside, gazing up as his eyes dart from left to right.

Too short. Too unstable. Too far from the other one.

He plots out a path that is most likely to succeed in getting to the top. He calculates that his chances are still slim, but a taunting wave in the distance steadies his resolve.

One hand grips a ledge and he hoists himself up. His other hand flies to a crack and soon his body falls into a rhythm, following the path he planned beforehand.

He gets a quarter of the way up, and a passing gust of wind forces him to cling onto a loose rock mid-rise. The rock loosens from its holster in the cliffside and falls, leaving Odysseus to shift his weight away to his other limbs. This proves fatal, however, as the ledge he's standing on becomes unstable and begins to crack.

“No,” he gasps as he loses his grip fully.

Odysseus falls.

Just as he is beginning to feel more human than monster, he finds a way to immediately end that possibility.

His eyes dart to the sea. He opens his mouth, but no words come out.

This is what he wants, isn't it?

Isn't it?

Just as his body is about to clash with the floor, a tide arrives and with it a figure darts out of the water.

He lands with a rough and clumsy ‘oof’ onto a strong unmistakable body. The horse below him snorts as he lands, staring daggers at him.

He twists around, sitting up and rubbing his now sore stomach.

“You,” he breathes, “are no normal horse, are you?”

Odysseus feels the horse’s muscles shift in a way that can only be described as tense. He raises a curious brow.

“A normal horse, no matter how strong, would have buckled under such force. Additionally, I would have felt a lot more than a sore stomach.” He trails a hand down the horse’s neck, running his fingers through its dark mane.

“I've seen you interact with the sea twice now,” he murmurs. “What is a follower of Poseidon doing assisting someone he no doubt despises?”

The horse calms down at the word follower, and Odysseus’ mouth twitches knowingly. The animal squeals and bucks, dropping Odysseus onto the floor.

“Ah!” He lands on his rear and crosses his arms. “I either speak to you, or to myself, and I must admit I really don't want to hear myself talk. I called Poseidon of all the gods in my time of need. What sane person does that?”

The horse stares at him quietly.

“Exactly. I don't want to hear my own inane babblings, so you must hear them instead.” He grins and he swears the horse rolls its eyes.

It turns away, only to loop around something behind it. It pushes the object closer to him with its muzzle.

Odysseus brushes himself off as he stands, urging his body forward to inspect yet another gift. It's a large jar, and he lets out a sigh of relief. He checks inside to confirm what he already knows; the jar is filled with water.

He drags the jar back into the cave, next to his slowly dying fire. He looks up and catches the stallion’s gaze on him. They stare at each other for a moment, and for a second Odysseus wonders if he should just end whatever this is right now —

Instead, he smiles sheepishly. “Could you get me more material to keep a fire going for the night?”

The horse snorts, unimpressed. It saunters away, leaving Odysseus alone once again.

He drops his gaze only once the animal is completely gone. He looks at the jar, the fish bones he pushed off to the side, and the dying fire. He opens the jar and cups his hands to bring the water to his lips.

What game is he playing?

Odysseus does not wait for the stallion to return before he settles against the cave wall and closes his eyes.

Hands chase after him in a sea of mush as he rides a horse forward. The hands catch up sometimes, but before they can grab Odysseus’ ankles, the horse kicks them away. He holds onto it like his life depends on it, and something heavy in the pit of his stomach tells him it's true.

Just as he's content to travel this way for an eternity, his steed comes to an abrupt stop. Odysseus looks up confused, and his blood runs cold when he spots it.

Twelve eyes stare down at them.

Odysseus’ awakes with his heart pounding so quickly and hard that he fears it will escape through his throat. His hands shoot up to his neck, eyes darting everywhere at once as reality slowly starts to make sense again.

Jars, fish bones, and a bright fire. A weight, so strong, leaning heavy on his side.

He inhales slowly and then exhales, reaching for the horse he knows is there. A soft nicker greets him. He turns his entire body and brings himself to his knees.

The horse stares at him, a deep blue eye never leaving his face. He places his hands on both sides of the animal’s face, bringing his own close.

“I lost everything,” he whispers. “He killed my men, you know?”

The horse remains silent, its eye piercing into Odysseus’ very soul.

“Six hundred men.” He pauses. “Forty–three by my own doing.”

The horse angles its head curiously.

His hands fall to his lap, the voices and screams within his mind getting louder and louder. He clutches his head with one hand, groaning.

A loud neigh echoes throughout the cave and for just a moment the yells falter. A muzzle pokes at his face, demanding his attention. He looks up and once again a deep blue eye gazes into his very being.

“Why?” Odysseus asks.

He gets no response.

The horse lowers its head into Odysseus hands, and without hesitation he begins to stroke its mane.

Whatever this game is, he'll play it just a little longer.

He slides next to the horse, this time from behind, so he can keep his grip on its mane. He leans in close, his breath tickling the horse’s neck as he drifts away once again. Years of not sleeping beyond an occasional nap continue to catch up to him, pulling him away from the present day.

As his eyes close, his mind provides one final revelation.

The horse does not close its eyes. Even at such an awkward angle, its neck curves so it can keep its heated gaze on him.

Notes:

honse...

Chapter 3: Into The Darkness

Summary:

Everything stops for a second, his mind racing faster and faster, unable to form a comprehensive thought for once in his life.

 

How much longer until your luck runs out?

Notes:

Short chapter before the, uh, "fun" begins? It's taking all my strength not to post these chapters as soon as they're done.

Thanks so much for the attention so far. Remember, tags update constantly. ... honse.

BRRRAPT!

Odysseus’ eyes open, and immediately he is hit with a deep chill that makes him curl in on himself. With a shivering exhale he pulls his arms away, fingers twitching in protest. He pushes himself off the hard cave floor, and he makes his way to the only exit, peeking his head out.

Lightning sears the air in the distance, striking the sea and causing it to erupt under the pressure. It is followed by thunder that vibrates him so viciously he can feel it in his bones. Rain begins to pour heavily, pelting his skin with anger. A wave crashes down along the shoreline, falling just short of embracing Odysseus’ feet.

The sight makes his stomach flip. For a moment he can see forty–three smiles directed at him from the corners of his eyes, but when he blinks they are gone. He clutches at his chest, his breath quickening as he tries to empty his mind.

A part of him tells him to return to the strange safety of the cave and go back to sleep; he can ignore the reoccurring nightmare unfurling before him. However, his legs refuse to budge. Another part of him, a piece of his mind that is still desperate to survive, tells him retreating into a cave near the angry sea is asking for death.

He swallows thickly, shaking his head at the turmoil within him. He grits his teeth and clenches his jaw, arms digging into his sides as they return to holding himself together.

“Stop,” he breathes.

His eyes widen as another wave, this one much larger than the other, hovers over him for one brief moment. His legs run before his thoughts can catch up, sprinting to the side and narrowly avoiding being knocked cleanly against the cliffside. He rolls onto his side, using the momentum to twist around and land in a crouch.

Not a moment later his eyes dart to the side as another wave forms. He is ready this time, body remembering the feel of a deck below him, crew members rushing to adjust to an incoming storm.

Captain!

His foot twists and he loses his balance, hands digging into the sand just to keep him from hitting the floor face first. His head snaps to his left and spots the wave already hovering above him.

Everything stops for a second, his mind racing faster and faster, unable to form a comprehensive thought for once in his life.

How much longer until your luck runs out?

The corners of his mouth twitch as the wave lowers itself. Water encompasses him, begins to seep into every crevice of his body. Just as he begins to accept that it's all finally over, an all enveloping gold fills his view.

Odysseus blinks, droplets of water continuing to fall on his face as a large hand covers his body. The ruthless wave melts into a puddle, pulling back into the sea, or so he assumes. His eyes don't try to follow, gaze fixated on the enormous hand covering him. It's dark blue, transitioning into warm honeyed skin around the forearm.

“Poseidon,” Odysseus blurts out

The hand curls, and a clawed finger grazes his thigh. The touch flings his heart into his throat, a myriad of emotions surging through him. Fear, shock, confusion, and — something else.

Get yourself together, he releases a breath he didn't know he was holding.

The hand retreats from above him, dragging downwards into the sea where it originated from. His eyes travel along the limb, spotting gold specks in his path. Sand spills along long sharp nails before it succumbs into the depths below.

Odysseus places the palm of his hand to his chest to ensure his heart isn't going to escape through his ribcage. He rises quickly, steadying himself as the wind crashes into him with increasing ferocity.

The sea parts at the same time his feet plant themselves on the ground. The movement is frazzled and sloppy, water hanging unnaturally, frozen in time. A body shoots out of the water, landing gracefully on the beach.

A horse stares at him.

“It's you,” Odysseus huffs.

One of the horse’s ears flicks, its head lowering as it begins to creep closer. Odysseus doesn't move as it does, opting to stand still as a chill courses through his body. He shivers at the biting breezes passing over them, and the stallion eyes’ look him over.

A beat passes, and the next moment the horse’s movements are no longer slow and cautious. It rushes behind Odysseus, butting its head against his back side.

“Whoa,” Odysseus plants his feet in the sand, mouth curving downward in a frown. “What do you think you're doing?”

The horse snorts and snaps its head up, catching his eyes before it directs its head forward.

Odysseus follows its gaze.

His eye twitches.

“You are urging me into the sea?” Odysseus scoffs in disbelief.

The horse grunts and lowers its head the moment Odysseus resists. This does not seem to deter it though, because soon after it returns to nudging against his back.

“I know I called Poseidon at my lowest point, but even a death like this would not be satisfying to him.” Odysseus continues huffing, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. If the horse really wanted to, it could easily knock him over despite his thick build, but he would not admit it out loud.

The stallion gives up trying to push him forward, slipping in front of him instead, neck held high, locking an eye with him. They stare at each other, eyes searching each other in a way words cannot. Odysseus expects to see annoyance in its piercing gaze, yet what he finds makes his stubborn pose falter.

The horse’s eyes sink into its head, each blink accompanied by a slight twitch in its eyelid. Its nostrils flare and its muzzle is pulled tight.

“Fine,” he says, ignoring the nausea settling in his stomach at how fast he relented. “I'll get in the damn water.”

Thunder booms once more, and Odysseus feels the ground beneath him shake as lightning strikes the top of the cave behind him.

The horse reaches forward and nips the front of his chiton, biting down as it begins to back up, dragging Odysseus with it. Odysseus turns his head to look behind him at stone crumbling down, covering the cave opening. Another bolt of lightning hits the cliffside and it shatters, a shower of debris threatening to fall onto him.

He feels his chiton stop getting tugged as a large rock narrowly avoids his head. His legs urge him to run, but a small but firm voice in his head yells at him to make his way to the sea. His thighs are forced apart and a body finds its way beneath him. His body reacts immediately as he clings onto the horse’s mane. He tightens his legs around the horse’s mid-section and leans forward, only to dip to one side a little too far. He thought it would feel like in his dreams, but he falters a bit, having to adjust his legs until they feel less awkward.

He'll play along, but only because he wants answers. Odysseus’ mouth forms a tight line as the horse sprints forward. He inhales deeply and hardens his resolve.

A boulder crashes down behind them just as the stallion jumps forward, sinking both of them into the dark abyss.

His eyes close on impact, but the moment he feels them both submerge, he opens them wide, ignoring the salty seawater's sting as his body demands he keeps his guard up. He looks around frantically, for any sign of danger, any sign that Poseidon thinks Odysseus willingly drowning himself is a satisfying end to their feud.

Something swims by and its tail fin brushes his cheek.

Odysseus blinks.

A mass variety of fish swirl around him, their colors like vibrant ripe fruit. Odysseus’ jaw unclenches and his tight grip weakens just a fraction. The numerous fish caress his face briefly, swimming in and around his hair, twirling around his head until he cannot hold himself back and finally cracks a smile.

Almost as if they are satisfied, they disband and leave. A stream of bubbles in their wake remind him that he is not the only being here.

He looks down and catches a striking blue eye watching him, for just a second, before it's turning away.

Caught you, he thinks.

A growing pressure in his chest makes him wince, and he is reminded of his predicament. He is deep below water now, so far down that darkness is starting to seep in from the corners of his eyes. The salt is growing plentiful and the pain is beginning to become unbearable.

His fingers tighten in the horse’s mane, a silent message that he hopes the other understands.

If your plan involves not ending me here and now, I need to breathe.

The stallion picks up its pace, diving lower, and lower.

The lower they descend, the more Odysseus can feel not only the crushing weight of the water, but the tightness of his chest. Bubbles are starting to escape his mouth without permission, and soon he will have to inhale. Worse, he can see very little now. The abyss surrounds him, and he cannot even look down at the animal he is riding anymore. Another bubble leaves him, and in its reflection Odysseus spots something.

Something stares.

He turns his head slightly, his vision growing fainter and fainter as his head begins to buzz.

Eyes. So many eyes. Glowing orbs, one pair followed by another, begin to circle them both. They blend together in color, forming a vortex of flames.

His chest can hold his breath no longer.

His fingers loosen as everything goes black. Something shifts below him, but his mind is quickly fading.

Odysseus can just barely recognize two arms wrapping around his waist before his mind succumbs to the void.

Chapter 4: Sharp Tongue

Summary:

“I don't know why I called you!” Odysseus shouts. “How do I answer a question I do not know the answer to?”

“By giving me a response I want.”

Notes:

Edited [4/22/25]: Small mistake.
[4/25/25]: Edited description of Poseidon.

For what he hopes is the final time for a long while, Odysseus’ consciousness crawls back into his head.

“Huh?” He groans, pressing the flat palm of his hand to his eyes. His other hand slides to his stomach, an underlying nausea making itself known. Trembling fingers graze his skin, causing his eyes to open wide. He forces both of his arms away from his body as he looks down, brows pinching together as he takes himself in.

Why is he without clothing?

He tries to think for a moment, mind reeling back in an attempt to replay the moment before he passed out. Glowing eyes and movement are all that come to mind, and with a shiver he drops the thought.

“Your clothes were wet,” a voice drawls out, making Odysseus nearly jump out his skin.

Odysseus twists around and is met with an onslaught of colors. He says nothing as he takes in his new location, lips parted slightly.

The first thing he spots is Poseidon himself, leaning back against a large circular seat on the side of the room across from Odysseus. A room, yes, surrounded in coral, seaweed, and silk.

Odysseus’ fingers splay flat and his fingers easily melt into a bed, the material so soft it makes him gasp softly. A blanket pools across his lap, no doubt his only source of warmth after shedding his clothes.

“My palace,” the voice continues, and Odysseus catches the god’s eye for a moment before looking away.

“You look worse than usual,” the words slip out before Odysseus can stop them, and he physically bites his lower lip. “Uh—”

“You love testing my patience, don't you?”

Odysseus meets his eyes again, curiosity winning over his desire to stay quiet.

Poseidon is still tall and his presence is ever demanding, though his size is much closer to Odysseus’ at the moment. Pearls and seashells adorn his skin and hair once more, his appearance much closer to when they first encountered each other. His braid returned as well, hanging low over his shoulder. Despite that, his eyes trail downwards and he catches a flash of the god’s mouth twitching. Looking down further reveals that his pose is definitely off.

Very off.

“I have been through enough battles to see that you are hurt,” Odysseus says before he can regret it. He lets the rest of his sentence linger in the air, unsaid.

Poseidon shifts and confirms his accusation, the god’s lips pulling into a tight line as a jolt goes through his body. “You never learned to tame that disrespectful tongue of yours,” he huffs.

“For you,” Odysseus stresses the word mockingly, “I'll never know how.”

An annoyed groan escapes the sea god, and Odysseus allows the faintest of smiles.

A pause.

“You called me,” Poseidon sits up straighter, his pain secondary to showing he's in charge, Odysseus bets.

“I-I did.” Odysseus admits.

“Why?”

Odysseus opens his mouth to speak but words become fleeting.

He shrugs.

“Tch,” Poseidon stands abruptly, a twitching eye the only indication that he is still hurt. “I'm done indulging you. If you won't answer me, then you were better off dying in the descent.”

“I don't know why I called you!” Odysseus shouts. “How do I answer a question I do not know the answer to?”

“By giving me a response I want.”

Odysseus takes a deep breath, calming the growing storm in his mind of stubborn remarks. “I wanted death—”

“No.”

He clenches his jaw and inhales, holding his breath for a few seconds before exhaling.

“I wanted you,” he whispers.

Poseidon stands still, towering over him even in his smaller form, and stares. Odysseus keeps his eyes on the god’s chest, for lack of a better spot to stare. He did not want to meet the other's gaze, but he also did not want the other to think he had grown submissive.

“That's the right answer,” Poseidon says, but his tone remains neutral. He continues walking closer to Odysseus, a clawed hand reaching up to catch the man’s chin between his fingers. “Look how far you've fallen, little king.”

“Yet you won't kill me,” Odysseus finally meets his eyes.

“Why do you insist on angering me more than you already have?”

“All this anger, but I'm still breathing. You're making me bold, my Lord.”

“Death is too easy,” Poseidon relents. “Drowning you when you want it isn't exactly the revenge I'm seeking.”

“Haven't you taken enough from me?” Odysseus grasps the blanket covering his lower half tightly.

“Humor me, Nobody, what would you do if your son was suddenly blinded by a man who had the audacity to not only leave him alive, but then share his name for his victim to remember?” Poseidon tilts his head.

Odysseus sinks into himself, thoughts racing as he plays out the scenario in his head.

He envisions his infant son’s smile as he reaches for his father's face. He envisions a man, no, dozens of men banging on a door while a now older boy desperately tries to keep it closed. He sees the door buckle under the weight of the onslaught, and the men poor into the room, their grins promising cruelty. He sees a raised dagger slam down and—

“I'd kill him. I'd kill everyone around him. I'd kill everyone he loves.” Odysseus admits with certainty.

Poseidon hums, and says nothing more. He retreats, returning to his seat on the other side of the room. His arms tremble slightly as he lowers himself. Just a single moment of weakness that Odysseus knows anyone else would not have spotted.

They sit in silence, and Odysseus takes this time to consider what is on the other side of two large doors that provide the only seeable entrance and exit. Poseidon's palace is sure to be massive, tricky, and perhaps impossible to escape from. How far below are they? Odysseus barely survived the descent, he immediately rules out swimming to safety.

Besides, his finger twitches, those glowing eyes promised something far worse than the silent god before him.

“Why am I here?” Odysseus sighs. “And why are you—” he chooses his next words carefully, “uncomfortable.”

Poseidon's eyes close. “Your escape has reached the attention of my brother.”

Oh.

Odysseus’ breath hitches, muscles tightening together as the name sends a jolt down his spine.

All at once he sees seventy-four eyes peering at him, boring into his skin, drawing in on him like a pack of wolves. The spot on his back where he was stabbed by his own men begins to ache, growing hotter and hotter.

“But we'll die.”

“I know.”

“He's not going to get you,” Poseidon's voice cuts through the shadows circling him. “You're mine.”

Odysseus breathes.

“I am not yours,” he manages, shakily.

“You called me, and I released you from Calypso’s grasp. Then, you have the nerve to demand death from me, taking away the one joy I was looking forward to after all those years.” Poseidon lifts one of his legs up onto his seat, seemingly unbothered. “You're mine until I decide what your fate will be.”

Odysseus forces his mouth to stay shut at that. He is so tired, so exhausted with everything. Besides, the god isn't entirely wrong. He did help him escape the goddess’ grasp.

“What does Zeus want with me?”

Poseidon leans forward, “Tell me, king of Ithaca, whose voice did you hear when you held the son of Hector in your hands? Whose voice convinced you that your survival was more important than that of thirty-seven other men?”

Odysseus’ mouth opens and shuts quickly, a wave of nausea warning him of bile rising in his throat.

“He thinks all kings should be as selfish as him. You're a play thing to him,” Poseidon’s gaze drifts off, “and he wants his toy back.”

“I am no toy!” Odysseus stands from the bed, the blanket sliding off his thighs until it pools at the ground. “Tell your brother I do not belong to him.”

Poseidon's eyes snap back to Odysseus and he watches as a gaze as heavy as the sea trails down his body, slowly, savoring. A flicker of something flashes across his face, but Odysseus cannot decipher the expression. The god’s eyes pause on his lower region before he looks back up into Odysseus’ eyes.

“I did,” Poseidon gestures to himself. “This and that thunderstorm were the result.”

Odysseus cocks his head to the side with doubt, “You were protecting me?”

“My brother always wants what is mine. I don't feel like sharing.” Poseidon rises to his feet.

As the god’s leg drops and the fabric covering his lower half falls to cover him fully, Odysseus’ eyes are drawn to the muscles shifting in his abdomen. The god barely covers himself up. He looks away quickly, throat growing dry.

“I have business to attend to. I have plans for you, little king, but they are not yet ready. I will be back in due time.” Poseidon directs himself towards the imposing doors.

“Wait,” Odysseus reaches out without thought, immediately recoiling when he realizes, “I need clothing.”

Poseidon pauses, slowly turning his head to look over his shoulder at the mortal.

He hums, “What a shame. I was enjoying the view.”

With that he leaves, and the moment the doors open an organized group of people rush past him. They all have fins on the sides of their face, and scales are peppered across their skins. Mostly women, with a couple men amongst them, grab at Odysseus as he sputters in confusion. A set of hands grabs him by the shoulders and he instinctively swings in the same direction.

“Don't,” he starts, but stops when he catches the eyes of a young man holding a comb. He swallows, “Don't touch my shoulders. Please.”

The man nods once without argument, without even a word, and the hands on his body begin to grope and prod at him again. Poseidon's servants touch him like he's a prized animal, and he tries very hard not to start screaming at them. They're only fulfilling their god’s command. He relinquishes himself to the gentle touches, sighing as his exhaustion catches up to him. He already did not sleep properly.

Years ago he could stay awake for days on end, and had to in order to survive. Now though, he is tired. He is older, and his frame is not as defined as it used to be. His energy is low and constantly waning.

He closes his eyes as the servants work on him.

A hypnotic gaze greets him in the darkness, and he fights off the heat that resides low in his belly.

Time passes by slowly, and the only sound that fills the room are grunts from Odysseus as he's spun around, dressed, shaven, and combed. Eventually, the hands finally stop grabbing at him. Every single servant takes a step back at the same time and looks him over once, twice, and then with a nod of satisfaction, they exit the room. One of them hands Odysseus an item before they leave.

He turns the item in his hand and glides his thumb around the circular rim. It's a bronze mirror, and a pristine one at that. Polished so immaculately that Odysseus sees his reflection immediately.

His facial hair is shaved shorter, but not slashed away entirely. The hair on his head is still quite poofy, the servant unable to fully tame him in that regard. Brown eyes look back at him, and if he stares long enough, a flash of silver reminds him of a life long ago.

Athena, he sighs. If Zeus is indeed searching for him with a fury, then Athena is sure to find out about it as well. It means she knows now that Odysseus is alive, and in the domain of her uncle. He grimaces. If she gets her hands on him she will surely berate him for being the most idiotic man alive. All those years spent advancing him into one of her great tacticians, a warrior of the mind, and this is the result of that work.

He lowers the mirror onto the bed and his hands travel up his sides, feeling the soft silky fabric the servants dressed him in. Odysseus grumbles, “Dressed up like something to be treasured. How unfitting.”

The doors open then, so suddenly that Odysseus flinches. He didn't even hear footsteps. He turns his head, and a small ‘oh’ slips out from his mouth.

A horse stands before him.

The two of them catch each other's gaze, but neither of them make a sound.

He told himself he would not play this game any longer, but.

“You've returned, my friend!” He smiles. “You disappeared after we descended, and I was growing worried. You saved my life, after all. You could have let me drown, or you could have been done with me!”

A muzzle roughly smacks into his shoulder.

He smirks.

“What brings you here?” He drops the false praise.

The stallion stands up tall, towering over Odysseus who remains seated on the bed. It keeps its eyes on him as it moves, two legs rising onto the bed.

“Whoa,” Odysseus shuffles away, feeling the bed creak under the new weight. “What are you doing?”

The horse ignores him, its back legs lifting as it fully climbs up. It stands for just a moment, looking down at Odysseus with a twinkle in its revealed eye. Finally, it lowers itself behind him, laying down slowly. It does not lay its head down just yet, one eye still watching Odysseus closely.

Odysseus’ brain takes a second to catch up. He can definitely say he has not experienced this scenario before.

“What are you playing here?” He asks, craning his neck to meet the animal’s harsh gaze. He keeps himself as close to the edge as he can, his body tense with the desire to escape.

The horse huffs quietly, lowering its head to the sheets.

“No,” he says immediately. “You're not sleeping with me. We are not sharing a bed.”

The horse’s eyes begin to droop, and Odysseus feels something tug at his chest.

Tired.

“Fine. I assume you need to watch me, so fine, but do not touch me.”

Odysseus curls onto his right side against his better judgement, reaching for the soft blanket from earlier. He covers himself, quieting the mixture of thoughts brewing in his head.

The horse does not budge behind him.

He does not know how long it takes him to drift off. He tries to think of the colorful fish from earlier, swimming around him so carefree of the disasters above. His thoughts slowly transition to the body below him, assisting him in his descent to safety.

He buries his fingers in an elegant soft mane and sinks down, his weight easily held up by the horse; by the truth they both knew but refused to say out loud.

His vision begins to grow hazy once more, but this time, he catches the form below him shifting, transforming.

Two large hands wrap around his waist, forcing them both to descend faster. One of the hands travels down as Odysseus’ vision fully blurs. It grips his thigh securely, claws careful not to break skin, and Odysseus releases a soft moan.

Stop.

Odysseus feels his cheeks grow flush as the hands continue to grope him. The hand that remained on his waist trails upward, a perfect fit around his pectoral muscle.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up!

The hands are so big, so dangerous, so—

So unlike his wife’s.

Odysseus’ eyes open and the heaviness between his thighs taunts him instantly. This is not the first time he has woken up in this state. It has been so long since his wife’s gentle touch has graced him. He grumbles, aiming to sit up, but something locks him in place. He looks down and his back becomes as stiff as a board.

Poseidon's arm, very much not a horse, rests on his waist.

The force of his thoughts nearly devours him whole.

Get your hands off me. Stop touching me. Stop keeping me alive like a dying animal.

His anger dissipates quickly when he realizes the anchor on his side is not intentional. Poseidon is simply resting behind him. Odysseus doesn't dare turn his neck to peek at the figure. He opts to listen for the surprisingly soft rise and fall of a peaceful slumber instead.

Odysseus does not fall asleep again. He decides to close his eyes, and force his chest to settle into a rhythm. He remains hyper aware of his surroundings the entire time.

The god’s peace frustrates him.

Odysseus could stand up right now and- and what? His fingers curl into the sheets. The bronze mirror? A sharp shell? Those would not be enough to make the god feel anything other than anger. Odysseus sighs.

He is not a threat right now.

He is an older man with no weapon laying next to the god of the seas.

Chapter 5: Cemented Memories

Summary:

'He had one knee on the bed, fingers twitching as he leaned in close. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted her to beg him to keep his hands off of her. '

Notes:

Content warning for strangulation intent.

Odysseus counts each second that passes as he lays in bed. His breathing enters a pattern, inhaling with five, exhaling on four. It isn't until he feels the temptation to fade away into slumber once again that the body behind him moves. His breath hitches for a moment before he forces himself to inhale, starting the rhythm over.

The arm lazily resting on his waist tenses for a moment before pulling away. Odysseus breathes easier the moment it's gone, and it takes all his willpower not to sigh with relief. The sheets shift below him, a weight lifting from the bed. He hears a body step onto the floor and Odysseus’ mind flares with curiosity. His eyes part open slightly, and he sees the silhouette of the god facing away from him. The body stands still, and a tense silence envelops the room.

Does he know? Odysseus focuses on his breathing, on calming his rapidly beating heart.

The two of them remain that way for what seems like an eternity before the body moves away. Odysseus hears the doors open and close, the sound almost too faint to hear at all.

He waits for a long time before his body finally relents and relaxes at the merciful temporary isolation. He collects himself, thoughts swirling faster than he can register them. With a grunt at the growing chaos in his mind, Odysseus rolls out of bed.

He walks to the other side of the room, and pauses at Poseidon’s seat, before returning to the bed. He paces back and forth as his thoughts pour out.

Okay, he presses his thumb to his chin, so what exactly am I dealing with? Poseidon isn't going to kill me, at least not yet. Zeus wants me. His hand trembles at the name. He dares not focus on which way the god may want him. I'm stuck in Poseidon's palace, and there's a horse that won't stop pestering me. He shoves away a small voice that tells him the horse is comfortable; the horse is his safety.

He sinks slowly to the floor, his hands relishing in the cold that grounds him for a moment. The only reason Poseidon isn't ending his life is out of punishment. The god hates him, and a part of Odysseus still resents him as well.

He wants to say he hates the god with his entire being still, and a small voice insists he does, but a man can only hate so much before he starts to lose himself.

Odysseus’ face hardens as his thoughts drift off to an island he hopes is now far, far away.

.

The night had been like any other in the six years that had passed up to that point. The screams in his head swirled around, a constant reminder of his failures, but something else was at the forefront of his mind. Something he did not fully understand, but that had him rising from his spot in the sand and stepping with purpose towards the sleeping chamber.

He slowly made his way down the hall, his eyes vacant. Two large doors gave in under his strength, opening to reveal a giant bed with pillows upon pillows hugging the form of Calypso. She had been sleeping. He stepped forward, the curtains draped over the entrance softly tracing his skin as he closed the distance between him and the goddess.

She could not be killed. He knew this. She would not die, but she would feel something.

Odysseus raised his ever trembling hands and leaned forward. Close, so close.

She desired him so much; she would not even fight back. She may even forgive him. She was so desperate for his touch, countless nights of pleas and batting eyes burned into his memories. His mortal hands would not even deal any long lasting pain.

All he had to do was squeeze and not let go. She would not die, but she would suffer, at least from the betrayal. She would feel a fraction of the torment Odysseus held with every fiber of his being. He would not have to be the one waking up with tears streaming down his face in agony. His screams would not be the island’s personal performance any longer.

He had one knee on the bed, fingers twitching as he leaned in close. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted her to beg him to keep his hands off of her.

He was so tired of the gods telling him how he needed to live.

Show her I'm the judgement call,

The one who makes her kingdom fall.

Odysseus breathed sharply, and reality came crashing down in an instant. He fell back, chest gasping for air as he turned around to crawl out of the bedroom.

“Odysseus?” A voice had called to him, but he was already up on his feet and running away.

He ran, never looking back, the way his fingers eagerly twitched burning into his thoughts. He climbed to the top of the cliff and wailed. He screamed until his throat became hoarse and he stared down at the sea below.

Odysseus should have jumped. He should have let the rocks below deal with his weak body and even weaker mind.

.

It's the doors opening to the room that pull him back to the present day.

Odysseus isn't sure when he brought his knees to his chest, or when he had begun crying.

Someone enters, but he doesn't look up; he can't.

His hands are shaking so hard that his entire body trembles with them. His breathing is shallow, chest erratic with each pump of his pounding heart. He tries to swallow, but a lump forms in his throat, and suddenly he's too warm. His skin is on fire. Beads of sweat form on his temples, traveling down his cheeks alongside his tears as everything becomes too much, too overwhelming.

“Little king,” a voice says, but Odysseus just can't. He whimpers, shutting his eyes as the light in the room becomes too bright. He squeezes his fists closed and tilts his head back, the wall stopping him from arching any further.

“H-help,” his words find him for a moment before his tongue feels heavy. Odysseus releases a sob, dull nails digging into his palms.

He's suffocating.

He's going to burst.

He's going to die.

Something leans on his thigh, and Odysseus peers one eye open.

A horse, his horse, rests its head on his lap. It nickers lowly, just loud enough that Odysseus hears it. He swallows around the lump in his throat and grasps onto the small noise.

His horse continues to huff and snort quietly. Odysseus notices that there are no eyes on him, the stallion’s mane covering its face.

No judgement.

Odysseus' breaths begin to slow down, a trembling hand settling on the horse’s head. His thumb grazes the horse’s ear and it flickers back and forth, almost as if it's ticklish. He buries his fingers in that well-brushed mane and he feels the shadow of Calypso’s sleeping body recede from his being.

He pets the horse as his chest evens out, each inhale a little easier, a little less tight. All that matters is the here and now. He is not going to hurt himself, or inflict pain onto someone else.

He is safe. He is himself.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

He does not stop running his fingers through the horse’s hair, time becoming irrelevant as he decides this moment is all he wants to focus on.

Eventually, the body under his fingers shifts and Odysseus follows, reaching for the only warmth he's known in years. He's guided to a table in the corner of the room. He glances over and spots a plate of bread. His stomach growls, and he frowns. He does not want to let go, not yet, but the horse pulls away slowly.

It looks at him finally, one eye catching his gaze before it directs its attention to the food.

Odysseus sighs but nods, taking a seat on one of the chairs by the table. He picks up the bread and carefully rips it in half. He hesitates opening his mouth, his appetite distant despite his body craving sustenance. He bites down on one piece, lip curled in thinly veiled doubt.

Once the bread is chewed and he swallows, he groans, stuffing his mouth full in an instant. Odysseus eats until the plate is clean, not a crumb left on the table.

A satisfied huff dusts his cheek and he turns to see the stallion twisting around, heading towards the doors.

“Wait,” Odysseus blurts. “Stay. Just a little longer.” He tells himself he’s embarrassed himself enough, but then he shuts down the voice in his head, listening for once to the way his fingers ache to bury in that soft mane once more.

The horse pauses, contemplating, weighing its next action.

Odysseus’ breath hitches when the horse turns away from the door and instead saunters over to the giant seat in the corner of the room. He did not notice it before, but the wall behind the seat was unlike the plain white walls that cover the rest of the space. It is covered in an array of bright summer colors, sea glass fused together like a work of art. He walks over, squinting as he notices movement behind the wall. Though not entirely see-through, the ever traveling water of the seas faintly caresses the sea glass, pushing up against it in a tantalizing push and pull. Odysseus stares for a moment before he looks at the seat once again.

The horse stands next to it, staring at him expectantly.

He stands by the seat, getting a better look at it now that he's so close. It's cushioned, soft, and pillowy; it’s a seat made for a god’s comfort. He glances at the horse and raises a brow, “I won't get in trouble?”

The horse snorts and once again Odysseus swears it rolls its eyes, and he smiles. He lowers himself into the seat with a soft sigh, the pillows hugging his small mortal frame.

“Why—” he begins, voice cutting off as he thinks of exactly what he wants to say. “Why are you being so gentle?”

His back straightens when the horse starts circling him. It stops behind him, easily towering over the seat to keep Odysseus in view. It leans down and nips at Odysseus’ hair, huffing in his curls. It continues to his side, and presses its head to Odysseus’ arm before nipping once again, this time at his chiton. The fabric loosens at the bite, one shoulder revealing itself. The horse’s eye lurks on him, taking him in before stepping back. It holds its head up high, staring down at him.

Odysseus can't help the heat that fills his cheeks, a part of him knowing exactly what is being communicated.

'Because you're mine.'

He isn't sure why, but he doubles over in a laugh that shakes his entire body.

“A horse cannot own me,” he smirks, yelping as he brings his knees to his chest in a flash, narrowly avoiding a hard hitting hoof aiming for his shins. The horse sneers at him, shaking its head violently as it walks away.

Odysseus watches him go with a grin.

“Thank you,” he whispers before the horse reaches the door again.

It stops for a second, air heavy with acknowledgement. After a beat it continues, easily opening the doors with its strong neck.

Odysseus uses the soon to follow silence to reorganize his thoughts.

Poseidon isn't going to kill me. Zeus wants me. And that horse...

I have no idea what's going on with that horse.

The day passes by easier, food being brought to him again later on. It's not Poseidon or the horse that brings him his dinner, and he refuses to accept the tinge of disappointment that he feels.

Night falls, Odysseus timing it in his head, and the horse returns to him. He opens his mouth to argue, but is quickly ignored as the horse climbs into bed. He clicks his tongue, realizing this is about to become a daily occurrence.

And yet, he falls asleep with ease.

The next few days are mostly the same. Sometimes he wakes up next to the horse, and sometimes it's Poseidon. When it is Poseidon, he always wakes with a heavy arm over him.

He doesn't like those days too much. It's too close, too intimate.

Too unlike the god of the seas.

He pretends to sleep on those days, only moving once Poseidon has left the room. The days with the horse though, those mornings are spent a lot better.

On one occasion, he wakes up with the horse’s head on his side, gazing at him lazily with one eye. He reaches over and massages the space between its eyes, the horse leaning into his touch with great satisfaction.

“You're very warm,” he says, “and quiet. It's nice that you're silent, unlike someone else that shakes the room when he speaks.”

Oh if a horse could glare.

Some days it's Poseidon that brings him his meals, but they don't talk much when he does. He always pauses at the door before leaving, waiting, maybe even hoping that Odysseus will say something. Odysseus tries, to his effort, but every time he does, nothing kind comes out. Or worse, the screams in his mind threaten to rise. So he stays quiet, unsure what else to do.

They don't talk about the horse.

The two of them barely say anything to each other until one terrible night.

He falls asleep normally, the horse a solid familiar body behind him in bed. He drifts off quickly once he lays down, his body happily accommodating to his new schedule.

A distant island comes into view and Odysseus feels normal; he is happy once again. Life is simpler. He is a king and his queen fills every empty part of him.

A delicate hand holds his, the two of them gazing as the sun hangs low, the sky filled with warm embracing colors. He leans to his side, resting his head on Penelope’s shoulder. She lays her head on top of his, fingers curling around his hand.

“I'm happy to have you,” she smiles against his scalp and Odysseus feels so light, like he could float away at any moment.

“I'm happy to be yours,” he breathes on her skin. He turns, brushing his lips against her neck as a familiar heat grows in his stomach. He pulls his hand away to push himself up. He leans over, his kisses growing more fervent.

Something shifts. The seas below get a little louder, the air a little cooler, and Odysseus feels goosebumps on his skin. The skin touching his lips changes, from soft and rosy into tanned muscle. He blinks slowly, eyes trailing up this new body until he locks onto all encompassing blue staring down at him.

“You are mine,” an unmistakable voice says, and it's not a question.

Odysseus opens his mouth to say something, anything, but no words come out. Instead, a large hand rests on the back of his head and pulls him in. His muscles start to tense, but then lips touch his own. He expects something rough, something wild, but the god kisses him sweetly, and Odysseus feels a growing hunger within. Part of him tells him to run, not to get himself trapped in the predator’s grasp. Another part of him though, a much louder part, tells him to get closer.

He leans in.

He melts into the kiss, a small whimper escaping him as claws get tangled in his hair.

“I—” he breathes when the kiss ends, eyes still half closed. “More.”

Poseidon easily lifts him up and they shift, Odysseus getting placed on his back as Poseidon leans on him from above. He reaches up and slides his arms around the god’s neck, his clothes becoming too tight.

“I love our time here,” a voice sings and Odysseus’ blood runs cold. His eyes open wide and the body before him fills him with a punch of nausea.

Calypso looks down at him, long lashes batting as she looks at him like he's a lamb preparing for slaughter. He shouts, immediately trying to get out from underneath her. Her arms on either side of his head do not budge, keeping him confined.

“No, no,” he cries out, “not again!”

“There you are, king of Ithaca.” Thunder booms, lightning following afterwards, right by his head.

Odysseus’ eyes threaten to pop out of his head as his flailing grows more frantic.

Calypso keeps him trapped as the large god comes into view from above, standing- no, floating over his helpless body with a large feral grin. Wild eyes look into his, and unsaid promises linger in the air.

“I can’t wait to break you,” Zeus says simply.

He is trapped again.

Odysseus screams.

He screams until his throat tears, turning his yells into silent horror.

“Little king,” a warmth rips through his haze, causing Odysseus to sit up in bed, mouth still parted from his pleas.

The room is dark, and luminescent aquatic eyes are the only source of light he can find. Poseidon gazes at him, and every time those bright pupils flicker to study him, Odysseus follows. They stare at each other once again, and it soon becomes too much. Too vulnerable.

Odysseus looks away, eyes focusing on the darkness. “I need to get out of here,” he says. He hears Poseidon about to say something, so he continues quickly, “I understand that I am being hunted, but I just need one outing. One day to remember that I am not trapped against my will.”

“Who says you aren't? Why are you so certain you are not my prisoner?” Poseidon asks, a little sharply.

Odysseus can feel the ghost of a mane delicately falling through his fingers.

“Prisoners get no comfort,” he whispers, but it feels so loud. That one statement lingers in the air, pressing down on both of them, and Odysseus knows it's the moment their little game pauses. He seizes the opportunity, “Please, my Lord.”

He expects the words to feel like daggers on his tongue, but they don't.

A loud hum fills the room, and Odysseus can't help the curious look he gives the god. His heart catches in his throat.

Poseidon looks at him with a half-lidded gaze, his eyes illuminating sharp, dangerous, enticing teeth. Odysseus feels his lower half twitch, silently hoping the god’s eyes don't reveal the blush creeping across his face.

“Keep speaking to me like that, and you'll get a lot more,” Poseidon drawls. “We'll take a trip in a few days.”

Odysseus takes a deep breath. He needs to do damage control. He's not sure how much he trusts his impulses right now.

“Thank you,” he replies, lowering himself to the bed as he looks to the ground. He is unsure what expression Poseidon gives him after that. He waits until light disappears from the room entirely before exhaling deeply.

He needs to get himself together.

Chapter 6: Prey

Summary:

Poseidon tilts his head, and a slow smirk spreads across his face. “You talk too much already. Perhaps if you communicate with me in a way I want to listen, I'll indulge you.”

Notes:

1) Thank you so much for the constant support, seriously!
2) Quick reminder that you can find me on tumblr (princelybunny) or bluesky (sgtspacedad76)! Feel free to interact or ask me questions. I don't bite... too much.
3) You're not allowed to chase me down after this chapter. Okay, care you all, bye!

Content warning: Crude language and implications

It dawns on Odysseus, as one servant combs through his hair and another is handing him a meal on a silver platter, that he is beginning to feel a lot more like a spoiled prince than a reigning king.

“Does your Lord treat all his guests this way?” Odysseus asks as the same young man who always deals with his hair tries, unsuccessfully, to tame his curls.

The young man smiles and chuckles, “No, usually there is more screaming. More begging.”

Odysseus swallows thickly as he prods at the apple on his plate, appetite waning.

“I fear you have given me a premonition of what awaits me,” he quips.

“I don't think so,” he gets in response as fingers fidget with his stubborn strands. “I cannot speak for my Lord, but his movements have been different. I will not say he is joyous, necessarily. He is, however, a little lighter in his steps.”

Odysseus stews in this knowledge long after the servants empty out of the room. The young man had given him good information.

Sort of.

He's not entirely sure why his presence has the god of the seas feeling anything other than fury, but he has a few guesses. Guesses don't get him very far though. He needs answers.

So he finds himself leaning forward in the bed, eyes encapsulating the door in its entirety. He watches it, has been for several hours now, and rolls the apple he saved in his hands.

Eventually, the doors budge and Poseidon walks in with his second meal of the day.

He pounces.

“My Lord,” Odysseus shifts his weight onto one arm as he makes eye contact with the god of the seas. “You've returned.”

Poseidon pauses, expression neutral as he looks Odysseus over, searching for something he does not seem to find. He lowers the plate of food and steps over, looming over Odysseus with great height. Their eyes connect once more, and Poseidon leans down. A claw tilts Odysseus’ chin up and he has to swat away the feeling of his stomach rolling over.

“You're up to something,” Poseidon hums, and Odysseus tenses up a bit, “but I'm curious, so I'll play along.”

“I only wanted to talk,” he says, and it's not technically wrong.

Poseidon tilts his head, and a slow smirk spreads across his face. “You talk too much already. Perhaps if you communicate with me in a way I want to listen, I'll indulge you.”

Odysseus opens his mouth to retort, but he falters, calculating in his head when he may find another moment like this. He shuts his mouth, eyes narrowing as he looks up in thought.

“That's a good start,” Poseidon purrs. “The less words you use with that tongue of yours the better.” He presses forward and Odysseus leans back instinctively, jaw clenched. “Now tell me, king of Ithaca, what do you want?”

Odysseus thinks back, much further back, to before the goddess that kept him captive. He thinks of one of the only people to help him on his journey, and decides to give her way of persuasion a chance. If the servant’s words held an ounce of truth, then maybe he has a chance to get what he wants.

He leans back, letting his hair sprawl onto the sheets as his body follows. He shifts so his tunic loosens to one side and reveals a portion of his chest, and he brings his knees up to rest on either side of Poseidon's waist. With half-lidded eyes, Odysseus gazes up at Poseidon.

Poseidon doesn't move, stays so still that Odysseus worries for a moment, but when he glances into his eyes he finds himself smirking. The god’s expression may not have changed, but he can see the desire brewing in his luminescent stare.

In a flash, the apple he held rolls onto the floor as Odysseus is pinned to the bed.

His arms are brought above his head by divine strength, and held there with one of the god’s hands. Before he knows it, Poseidon is straddled on his hips, leaning down inches away from his face.

Odysseus swallows.

“Consider me listening,” Poseidon smiles, sharp teeth that could easily tear apart flesh peeking at him.

Odysseus tries with all his might not to think about the way his lower region immediately reacts to Poseidon's weight. When his thoughts catch up, he moves in the only way he can, lifting his head to reveal his neck. “Why,” he starts, licking his bottom lip, “did you come for me?”

“Mmmn?” Poseidon stares, eyes traveling along Odysseus’ neck like a starving animal.

“Calypso’s island.” Odysseus arches his back, “Why did you come when I called?”

“I was already watching you,” Poseidon reveals, his head lowering, stopping just above Odysseus’ revealed neck.

“Watching me?”

“I was waiting for you, waiting for you to somehow escape because I knew somehow you'd find a way.” His mouth opens, but just as he's about to bite down, Odysseus shifts, rolling his hips up.

He's not sure if this lights up a different fire within, or if his defiance reminds the god that Odysseus will not go down so easily, but Poseidon relents. He sits up and settles just below the mortal’s abdomen, still holding Odysseus’ arms.

“I wanted to end your life closer to your home,” he says, and Odysseus notices the way he glances away, as if something occurs to him. “When you called me, I intended to kill you right then and there.”

“Yet you didn't.”

“I didn't,” he admits. “I looked at you, really looked at you, and the man who looked back at me looked so hollow. You say you called me to kill you, but I can't help but wonder if there was something else you wanted.”

He stares at Odysseus for a moment, watches him breathe heavily for a beat, and then he lets go.

Odysseus doesn't move though, not yet. If he moves it might shatter the moment.

“Maybe,” the god of the seas climbs off of Odysseus, returning to his towering stance, “I wanted something else too. So I grabbed you, and brought you to an island.” They share a look, and the events of the island go unsaid. Their game is still ongoing, after all.

“I wanted to hear it from your own mouth,” Poseidon continues. “I wanted to hear your genuine remorse.”

“And?” Odysseus asks, no longer able to remain quiet.

“I heard much more than that.” Poseidon turns away, walking to the door and stopping. “Odysseus,” he breathes.

The name on his tongue makes Odysseus shiver. “Yes?”

A pause, and then, “We head out tomorrow. Prepare yourself.”

Poseidon leaves, and Odysseus is left wondering what the god thinks of him after all these years.

Odysseus dozes off eventually, despite the many questions still swarming his mind. He awakes to a muzzle pressing down on his arm, softly shaking him.

His eyes flutter open, fingers immediately finding the horse below, hand gliding across its face until he rests it on its head. He gives the horse a few pats before sitting up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed as he stands.

“Are you the one accompanying me today?” He asks, stretching his arms high above his head.

The horse huffs, mimicking his movement as it steps next to him.

That's the only answer Odysseus receives, the horse striding past him to the door. It pushes it open and Odysseus is quick to follow, snatching a comb to deal with his unruly curls before the door closes behind them.

The palace comes into full view as Odysseus steps into a grand hallway. Marble pillars infused with pearlescent shells stretch outward into several pools of water. He spots a nymph erupt from one of the pools, taking a seat at the edge. When her head tilts and she catches sight of Odysseus and the horse, she immediately bows low. The horse does not seem to notice, keeping pace with the mortal.

They get to another door and the stallion eases it open once more, revealing a labyrinth of hallways that seem to lead into endless rooms, or other hallways. Unlike the other room, there is only one large pool of water off to the side here. Odysseus makes a mental map of what he can see, just in case.

The horse stops in the middle of the main hallway, turning to him. They stare at each other for a long time as Odysseus tries to decipher its eyes.

“Ah,” he mouths, finally getting the hint. He wraps his arms around the horse’s neck, both hands grabbing a fistful of its mane. “Like this?”

The horse glances at him and Odysseus narrows his eyes immediately. He knows that look. It means something Odysseus doesn't like is about to happen. With a snort, the horse runs forward. Odysseus grunts in his effort to hold on as his legs leave the floor, entirely at the mercy of the animal.

He does not suffer for long because the stallion jumps suddenly, and Odysseus only catches a glimpse of the pool of water from earlier before they're diving in. He tightens his arms as they submerge.

Once again under water, he sees nothing in the darkness of the depths. He senses it in the way his hair stands on his neck though. Something lurks. Possibly multiple.

With the freedom of weight, he shifts his position so that he is seated on the horse properly, his arms aching at the constant pull. He leans forward, clamping his thighs around it.

He knows how this goes now.

He closes his eyes and the horse dashes through the water with much greater speed than before.

His aches must have healed, Odysseus thinks.

Thankfully, it doesn't take the burning of Odysseus’ lungs before they arrive above sea level. He takes in a deep breath the moment his head pops up above water. He blinks away the salt of the sea before taking in the view of an island as they near it. Large mountains peer back at him.

The horse easily strolls onto land with Odysseus on top of it. He jumps off as soon as the water is fully behind them.

“Where are we?” He asks, placing a hand on a large boulder as he inspects the shore. He gets no answer as the horse treads carelessly past him. He follows.

His eyes zip everywhere, taking in his surroundings as his instincts kick in. By the time they arrive at a river, Odysseus has planned out several escape routes.

Run.

Odysseus shakes his head, the voice easily evaporating. Running from Poseidon would be a death sentence one way or another. Better the god that's been strangely merciful in a way that makes Odysseus itch, than another’s playful gaze. Odysseus shivers.

They come to a stop and Odysseus is quick to sink to the floor amongst a bed of grass. The room in Poseidon's palace is beautiful and comfortable, but this feels more natural. He breathes in the smell of the river, pleased with its contrast to the salty sea. He lays back, blades of grass tickling his cheeks. When he glances above, he notices the horse is not paying attention to him.

There is an opening to run before Poseidon even knows Odysseus is gone.

Instead, he follows its gaze. It is looking at the mountains, and Odysseus connects the dots. The mountains are shielding them from above. The animal huffs then, turning away to stare down at him. They stare at each other, their usual form of communication.

“What goes on in that head of yours, I wonder.” Odysseus reaches up and traces his thumb under the horse’s eye. “Why do you keep me alive still?”

“Because he wants a taste as much as I do,” a voice shatters their moment of peace.

Odysseus’ eyes widen and his hand pauses on the horse’s head. Both of them slowly turn, and then Odysseus freezes up entirely.

Zeus’ feet float just above the land as he smiles down at them, a smile too sweet to be anything other than a taunt. Dark horns protrude from his hair, wild locks continuing down his torso until they disappear into clouds that follow his every movement. His piercing electric gaze makes Odysseus feel like his body is on fire. The god’s hands rest at his sides, fingers twitching and cackling, a burning reminder that his anger is barely being kept at bay.

When did he get there? Odysseus did not sense him.

“Did you think you could hide?” Zeus laughs, the sound not reaching his eyes. “I must admit, usually I'm the one turning into animals to play with the mortals, brother. I suppose the king of Ithaca would like a challenge in bed though. He likes the pain.”

His words are said as a statement, but the dread locking each of Odysseus’ muscles in place makes him say nothing in return.

Zeus floats closer, eyes locked onto his own. He coos, “Look at how he trembles. You must be excited knowing you'll soon be in my grasp again.” He reaches forward with clawed hands and Odysseus flinches, tears spilling down his cheeks without restraint.

He almost doesn't see the moment a watery claw slashes out at the god.

Odysseus finds the will to look away from Zeus’ predatory being, and he watches as the horse slowly melts away into a towering figure.

An already forged liquid arm slashes Zeus’s hand as the rest of his disguise breaks apart. The horse’s head splits open down the middle and long navy hair falls down as it bursts out, angrily wriggling to life soon after. Strands cling onto Odysseus’ form in an instant, covering him in a defensive hold.

“Don't touch what's mine,” Poseidon hisses.

Their game is over.

Chapter 7: Ichor

Summary:

“Choose your next words carefully,” Zeus’ voice drops, his playful demeanor vanishing as an electrical current begins to radiate off of him.

“The king of Ithaca, the mortal you had so much fun taunting and silently commanding, called out to me. That bothers you, doesn't it?”

Notes:

Rating has gone up to Explicit! Tags have updated!

 

I debated with myself over this for a long while, but I've decided instead of a secondary fic, I'm just going to keep it all together.

Final section of this chapter has a POV swap.

Edit: Changed some details.
_

The horse’s head continues to crack, a golden brown arm unsheathing from the mangled mess. A part of the horse melts apart into liquid and trails up the newly transformed arm, dripping from Poseidon's fingertips as it forms into a weapon. A giant, heavy trident manifests and its weight clinks onto the ground.

Odysseus cannot view the rest of the horrifying transformation, too fixated on the flash of relief that fills him.

Zeus tuts in annoyance, “Brother, why can't you share?” He looks at his hand as ichor begins to drip from his new wound. He does not comment on it, but Odysseus sees the way his jaw clenches. He is furious.

“I don't want to share. Odysseus is mine.”

Odysseus’ face burns, a stark contrast to the fear swimming in and out of his insides.

Poseidon raises his trident, aiming the prongs towards the other god. A wicked grin starts to appear, teeth sharper than any dagger shining under the sun above.

“I see,” Poseidon scoffs. “You're jealous.”

The sky grows dark. The clouds move so fast, dull so quickly that Odysseus has no time to sit up before lightning strikes down next to him. He recoils, staring at the sizzling remnants of grass nearby. The warning stops him from trying to move any further.

“Choose your next words carefully,” Zeus’ voice drops, his playful demeanor vanishing as an electrical current begins to radiate off of him.

“The king of Ithaca, the mortal you had so much fun taunting and silently commanding, called out to me. That bothers you, doesn't it?”

Odysseus feels a hand grab his wrist right before lightning strikes, once, twice, again, and again. It charges down angrily at the same spot over, and over, and over. The ground cracks and crumbles underneath the barrage, and the river water amplifies the electricity, causing an explosion that spreads far, creating a crater.

Odysseus releases a shaky breath as a small fire breaks out amongst the remaining grass.

Poseidon had grabbed him at the last possible moment, pulling Odysseus to his chest as he jumped backwards, far enough away that he was completely untouched.

“Look how he clings to you,” Zeus floats up from the crater, unaffected by his own destruction. “Like a damsel in distress.”

Odysseus leans into Poseidon despite the mocking words poking at his pride. Poseidon isn't perfect, far from it, but at least he isn't the one actively trying to harm Odysseus. He feels the nape of his tunic begin to rise as the rest of his body follows. Poseidon lifts him up and lowers him to the ground, taking a step forward towards his brother.

“I've had enough of your tantrum,” Poseidon snarls as he rushes forward, the distant sea slowly pooling at his feet, leaving a trail down to the shoreline.

It's so fast that Odysseus’ eyes can barely keep up.

Poseidon swings forward with his watery claws once the distance is closed. Zeus avoids it with ease, seemingly disappearing and reappearing at Poseidon's other side. Poseidon angles his trident, centuries of practice making itself known, and stabs to his side. The glimmering trident grazes a cloud as Zeus vanishes once more, this time leaving lightning in his wake, forcing Poseidon to dip out of the way.

The moment they both appear and lock eyes again, jets of water fire out from the pools swirling around Poseidon's ankles. Multiple strikes shoot out at the same time, but Zeus ducks and spins, strangely agile as he floats in the air. As he dodges, his feet finally touch the ground for a brief moment to launch himself forward with all his unbridled strength.

His swift movement is interrupted as jet streams hit him from behind, the water curving mid-air to track the god. While Zeus floats backwards to regain his composure, a shadow begins to cast over the island, growing larger and sharper until a giant wave is hovering above the three of them.

The wave crashes forward, and Odysseus fears he's going to get caught up in the unrelenting fury of the sea, but his fear disperses when he realizes the water shapes around his body. It collides with the island, displacing any and all loose wildlife.

It's silent for a moment, and Odysseus searches for motion.

Fingers curl in his hair, and he's filled with a strange comfort until he turns around, hair on the back of his neck prickling his skin as he locks eyes with Zeus.

“Come now, Odysseus, tell me you don't want me to take you in every sense of the word,” Zeus chimes. “I want to hear how loud you can whine under my touch.”

The ground trembles, splitting apart next to Odysseus’ feet as he's separated from Zeus. The land rises and sinks and he falls backwards, landing onto lean muscle as Poseidon catches him. In the distance, a mountain cracks, falling apart like an egg as it collapses, coating the land in an unavoidable fog of dust.

“What part of mine isn't getting through that stubborn thick head of yours?” Poseidon growls, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths as an animalistic anger reveals itself.

Zeus floats above the deformed terrain, unbothered. “I've had enough of this game, brother. Pretend all you want, but we both know who he really belongs to.”

Odysseus feels the air shift and a metallic scent consumes his senses. He hears the thunder before he's pushed out of the way, lightning striking behind him as he falls into a small crevice. He catches himself before he slips too far down, grabbing onto the hardened ground below as he turns around, eyes locking onto a hunched over figure.

Poseidon stands, barely, a hand on his chest revealing he's been struck.

Odysseus has no time to react before a body appears above Poseidon and Zeus drops onto him, claws like talons digging into Poseidon's shoulders.

A shout of pain rips from Poseidon's throat as his shoulders shred open, golden ichor bursting out at the intrusion. His trident falls from his hand and lands on the ground, slipping into a nearby crack in the ground. This does not deter him though, as his mouth opens and he lunges forward, pointed teeth sinking into Zeus’ flesh. A sharp hiss escapes the god of the skies, but neither of them back down.

They remain that way for a moment, Zeus pressing his weight into his attack, muscles bulging in his effort. Poseidon pushes back, teeth sinking deeper, and deeper, a desire to get his brother to concede lighting up his eyes. Feral grunts are all that fill the air as Odysseus watches.

This is your chance. They're both distracted. You can escape.

Odysseus steps out of the crevice and his fists tighten at his sides.

He runs.

He dashes forward as the two gods struggle in their battle for dominance. His legs push him forward, even as Zeus begins to shout, a predatory shriek as he forces Poseidon down. Gravity works against him and Poseidon's head smashes into the rocky terrain, his teeth dislodging from Zeus’ arm with a pained groan.

“I win,” Zeus grins, his eyes unfocused as he breathes in his dominant high.

Odysseus doesn't think twice as he lets momentum carry him, sliding onto the floor and into the crack in the ground. He spreads his arms out to stop himself from falling too quickly, eyes darting around until he spots his objective laying precariously on a small ledge. He jumps as he descends, landing on the small space as his hands close around the fallen godly weapon, but it's not until he lifts it that a scream pierces the air. The sky releases an onslaught of rain the moment the scream ends, and Zeus’ laugh follows shortly after.

Odysseus swallows thickly, pulling himself up the confines of the shattered ground with the heavy trident in his grip. His hand finds purchase on the edge of the fissure and he lifts himself up, his tunic getting soaked as the sky’s anguish grows. As he lifts himself, the sight that awaits him makes his mouth part.

Zeus sits on Poseidon, arms pinning the other god’s hands to the floor on either side of him. Electrical currents snap and crackle around him, colliding together and surging onto the body beneath him. Poseidon gasps as a fresh wave of ichor bursts from his shoulders, his mouth agape in a silent scream. The pearls that usually adorn his hair roll off of him, scattering to the floor.

The scene becomes sharp in Odysseus’ eyes. Poseidon’s earlier scream replays in his head over and over again, and all the voices in his mind fall silent. His chest burns as a storm of emotions, one more prominent than the others, claws at his throat, at his rib cage, and at his heart.

He envisions tired blue eyes connected to a lovely mane; a heavy body constantly grounding him to reality as his darkest moments haunt him.

How much more will the gods take from him?

Then there is nothing.

Odysseus charges forward, body moving without his mind to aid it, or restrain it.

Gold spatters across his face.

His arms lunge and retreat, push and pull, sink and lift. Someone growls and screams as his body repeats itself. With each rise of the divine weapon in his hand, he feels the weight of thirty–seven men assist him in his plunge.

It's not until his vision is blinded with gold that his mind returns to him, not until a gurgling sound fills the air that he realizes the screams he heard are coming from his own throat. His muscles ache with the weight of the trident, arms trembling as he lowers it one final time.

He wipes at his eyes, blinking away the ichor that splashed into them.

Zeus comes into view, panting heavily as Odysseus comes to realize what he's done.

He takes a step back.

Zeus stares at him, eyes wide with shock and fury. If looks could kill, Odysseus would have been eviscerated on the spot. The god is pinned to the ground, Poseidon's trident clean through the flesh of his shoulder. His chest rises and falls with ragged breaths, gold spilling out and beginning to bathe his being as rows and rows of wounds cover his body.

“You will—” Zeus inhales slowly, face twitching with pain, “You will regret this.”

Beside him, Poseidon stares between his brother and the mortal with an equally bewildered expression. The god of seas stands slowly, the wounds on his shoulders still raw and gushing ichor. Upon further inspection, Odysseus can see fresh lines burned into his skin, streaks of lightning branching off around his chest.

Poseidon stops to stare at the other god, and for a brief moment Odysseus thinks he sees a flicker of pity in his gaze, but he is quick to look away. Poseidon stumbles forward and Odysseus reacts quickly, holding his arms out to steady the god.

They retreat together, the snarls and yells of Zeus a promise that this is just the beginning.

“I will come for you, Odysseus,” Zeus warns, his venomous glare shooting daggers into Odysseus’ back. “I will break you, and enjoy every scream as I do. All you've done is make me hungrier.”

He doesn't stop shouting at them, even as they reach the shoreline. Odysseus lowers Poseidon into the sea, and a watery arm wraps around his waist.

“You're going to beg me to stop, little king. You're going to wish for death, and just when you believe you'll finally be free, I'm going to stop and wait. I'll break you slowly, use you as a toy until you don't remember your own name.”

Odysseus bites down the urge to turn around. He will not fall for the god’s bait. He clings onto Poseidon and the two of them begin their descent.

The descent starts normal, but it's not long before Odysseus notices something is very wrong. He glances at the god and immediately notices that his pace is slow, too slow. Half-lidded eyes meet his own. Poseidon mouths something that Odysseus doesn't catch. Suddenly, Poseidon's grip around him goes slack. The new weight of the god begins to pull him down, heavy and without direction.

He shakes the god, reaching up to forcefully open his eyelids. Vacant eyes stare back at him. Panic begins to settle in his stomach, unsure if he should detach himself, or keep trying to wake up Poseidon. He spins around as his head turns right and left, desperately trying to find something that can help them.

Just then, he spots a dorsal fin in the distance.

He waves wildly with his free arm to get the animal’s attention, hoping, praying—. He prays to Poseidon, a silent prayer filled with unveiled emotion.

The animal pauses and turns, looking at Odysseus and then at the god in his arms. The dolphin swims over quickly, opening its mouth as a series of clicks leaves its mouth. As soon as the dolphin reaches him, another one appears, mimicking the same action.

In the blink of an eye, a dozen dolphins swim towards them both. Not only that, but clouds of fish appear as well, alongside an animal that can only be described as half-horse and half-fish. In a sight that would, under normal circumstances, have Odysseus in awe, the sea life comes to their god’s aid.

They all squeeze in close, trapping Odysseus against Poseidon's chest as they begin to dive down together. They move quickly, attentively. They seem to understand the pain the god is in, and that whoever the mortal is that clings to him is in some way helping.

Odysseus keeps his eyes open as they get deeper, the sting of salt secondary to the adrenaline still pumping in his veins. He doesn't falter as the palace comes into view, his first time getting to truly appreciate it. Marble dyed with the blue of the depths stands tall, algae and seaweed hanging from the outer walls as it blends in with the nature that surrounds it. Snails sticking to nearby rocks peek their heads out as the mass of sea animals draws near.

Odysseus catches a glimpse of something shifting in the shadows, something huge, but he ignores it. He has to.

Just as his chest begins to ache with the need to breathe, the sea animals launch him and Poseidon up and he finds his fingers grasping onto the rim of a pool. He pulls himself up and takes in a deep breath before quickly turning around to try and pull the god up.

A servant spots them and gasps, dropping her tray of food and shouting.

The palace breaks into chaos.

Servants pour into the room in an instant, circling around Odysseus as they all begin to pull. He's not sure how many of them it takes, but eventually they are able to pull the large god into the room. He is grateful the god did not transform back into his giant form during their escape, Odysseus would have drowned long ago.

When hands begin to wrap around his arms, he turns his head. Servants begin to pull him away. He shakes his head and tries to step forward in protest, but the weight of the events above comes crashing down on him. His muscles ache, and his head spins. He gives in to the servants, letting them guide him away quickly.

They lead him to the familiar bedroom, lowering him onto the bed despite his grunts of pain. He sighs and lays down, knowing the servants won't leave him alone until he does. They look at him satisfied and begin to leave the room.

“Wait,” he calls out and one of them turns around. He locks eyes with her. “Take care of him.”

She smiles at him, and nods. “Our Lord is strong, and defiant. He will recover.” She leaves after speaking, closing the doors shut behind her.

The rest of his adrenaline melts away and he sinks into the bed, letting sleep consume him before the voices can.

He dreams of nothing.

Days go by and Odysseus grows impatient. Poseidon, the horse, no one visits him besides a single servant to bring him his meals. He tries to ask about the wellbeing of the god, but every time his only response is a smile. It irks him each time and he can feel his bearings coming apart at the seams.

How badly had the god been hit that he has not already healed?

A flash of the lightning that seared Poseidon's chest flares in his mind and his fists shake at his side.

Zeus is not merciful, not one bit.

One day, he leans back into the rounded seat in the corner of the room and stares at the wall, lost in his thoughts. The voices come and go, and some nights are harder than others, especially when the horse he had grown so accustomed to was no longer there to comfort him.

He curls in on himself, the seat big enough to easily cushion his body in its entirety. Zeus’ promises poke and prod at his head, but he refuses to let them linger. Accepting the warnings means accepting that he lost control of himself to cause such anger.

Did it feel good? Yes.

Was it good for him though? He's unsure.

Odysseus hugs his knees to his chest, oddly feeling like years of his life have been shed from his being. He feels so old, yet so young at the same time.

His thoughts are interrupted when the doors open. He lazily turns his head, expecting to see a servant delivering his meal for the day, but that is not what he spots.

He stops breathing as Poseidon enters, letting go of his knees as the god catches his gaze.

“You're okay,” he says, fingers twitching at a loss of what to do with himself.

“Of course I am,” Poseidon quips, walking forward to close the distance between them. “As if my brother could hurt me.” His words do not match the way he moves, his deliberate slow steps still causing him to grimace in pain.

Odysseus’ eyes drop to the god’s chest and he winces. The lightning strike is very much visible, now a scar that sticks to his skin. Poseidon follows his stare and stops in front of him.

“It will heal in time,” he answers the question in Odysseus’ head.

Odysseus feels slight relief at his words, eyes traveling up to meet a sea of blue.

“I think,” he starts, unsure if he wants to continue, “we need to talk.”

Poseidon huffs lightly, his body shifting onto one leg as he peers down at the mortal. “I do not want to.” Odysseus’ brows pinch together and he opens his mouth to speak, but a clawed finger touches his lips. “Let me finish, you impatient king. I do not want to talk right now. I may say something I regret.”

Odysseus looks up at him curiously, all the while retreating from the hand in front of him.

“My head is still hazy,” Poseidon admits, and Odysseus finds himself surprised that the god would be honest with him.

They pause, a million questions hanging in the air, and then Poseidon moves again. He reaches behind Odysseus and lifts him up from his tunic again. Odysseus huffs, used to it at this point, but annoyed nonetheless. The god replaces Odysseus’ frame with his own, settling into the seat with a small sigh. Odysseus expects to be put down, but instead he is placed on a strong leg.

Poseidon puts him on his lap.

“Relax,” Poseidon whispers, head craned back. “Tell that mind of yours to settle. My niece’s influence on you is stifling.”

A flash of Athena enters his mind and a small pang of pain tightens in his chest. Despite the conflicting emotions battling in his head, Odysseus decides he can worry and regret his actions another day. Too many days without the god’s presence had taken its toll on him.

Not that he would admit it out loud.

He rests back, aiming for a portion of the large seat but his head lands right below Poseidon's chest. Heat immediately fills his cheeks, but as he finds the strength to lean forward and away, a watery limb grabs his abdomen, trapping him against the god. Odysseus curses everything, ever. Poseidon’s other hand curls into his hair and Odysseus feels like he's suddenly suffocating. He leans into the feeling without thinking.

“Talk to me,” Poseidon says.

Odysseus looks behind him, tipping his head to the side as he narrows his eyes. “You said we would not talk right now.”

“I said I did not want to talk. I want you to talk. Tell me about the days you endured without me.” Poseidon smirks, still not meeting Odysseus’ gaze.

“You make it sound like I was suffering without you around.”

“Were you?”

Odysseus bites his tongue, mostly because he isn't sure which response is about to leave his mouth.

“Talk to me,” Poseidon hums, “Odysseus.”

Hearing his name makes Odysseus swallow around a lump in his throat.

“It—” he begins, wetting his lips when his voice comes out gruff. “It has been quiet here. Too quiet. Your servants are always too busy to talk to me, it seems.”

Poseidon moves in his seat, arching up slightly before settling again, and Odysseus can feel the roll of his hips against his own. A familiar hunger rises deep in his belly, and his breathing loses its tempo. The hand around his abdomen curls, and Odysseus presses his mouth into a tight line against the noise that tries to escape.

Oh gods, he exhales slowly.

“They have a lot to do, and they do their best to keep me pleased. You look well fed though, so they are doing their duties well.” Poseidon says, his chest vibrating with his words. “I must ask,” his voice lowers, “have you seen yourself since we've returned?”

Odysseus glances to the side before shaking his head, “Why do you ask?”

“My brother’s insolence stains your face.”

Odysseus’ brows pinch together, “I do not feel different.”

“You are beautiful.” The words spill from Poseidon’s lips and Odysseus feels his very essence set aflame. “You are no ordinary mortal. Others would have gone blind if a god’s ichor so much as grazed them.”

Odysseus doesn't know how to respond as he tries to picture the gold that now marks his appearance. They say nothing for a long period, and he tries to focus on the rise and fall of Poseidon's chest behind him. If he turns just slightly, he can hear the beat of the god’s heart.

“I heard you,” Poseidon murmurs under his breath, breaking the silence. A claw tucks under his chin and guides Odysseus to look up. Poseidon's face is close, so close, too close. “You prayed for me.”

His warm breath tickles his face, and Odysseus is ashamed at the reaction it causes, his teeth chattering as desire travels to his groin. His thoughts fail him, his body trembling as the warmth engulfs him. With what little will remains, he forces his head away from the inviting claw, dropping his chin to his chest. His eyes latch onto his chiton, the tented fabric leaving little to the imagination.

It's been so long. He shivers.

“My brother was right about one thing,” Poseidon leans down, sharp teeth peering out as he punctuates his next words. “I do want a taste.”

“Please,” Odysseus pants, his shame nowhere to be found. His chin is lifted once again, but this time Poseidon is leaning down to his side. He has no time to process anything as their lips touch.

The kiss is so soft, so light. Through his daze he knows it's a silent question, a way for him to back out now if he really wants to. He leans into the kiss, and that's all the permission Poseidon needs.

A tongue presses against his lips and he is quick to part them, a groan leaving him as Poseidon all but devours him. Their tongues meet, and Odysseus closes his eyes, feeling the way Poseidon explores his mouth with a ferocious hunger. The god pulls away with a small nip to the mortal’s bottom lip, just faint enough to not draw blood.

Odysseus opens his eyes and meets Poseidon's gaze. His mouth opens and closes, words failing him, before he finally finds them, “Wait.”

His skin burns with need, but a thought keeps bothering him.

“You said you are not fully yourself right now,” he recalls. “What if this is part of that?”

Poseidon's eyes flicker to the side in thought. A beat passes and he presses a kiss to Odysseus’ forehead.

“We will stop,” he says, and Odysseus mentally berates his voice of reason, even though deep down he knows this is for the best. “But,” Poseidon breathes, “it's not because I am not myself. If I go any further, I will lose control, and your pleasure would become secondary, possibly even irrelevant to me like that.”

The god sighs heavily, leaning back in his seat as his words hang in the air. He pauses for a moment, and Odysseus can see the words he wants to say battling against his foggy pride. “You have come too far for me to break you again.”

The gentle honesty just makes Odysseus’ heart race faster. He leans back into the body behind him, the clouds in his mind beginning to disperse.

As his mind clears, he begins to realize just how embarrassing this situation truly is. He sits on the lap of the god that ruined him, the same god that sent him down a path of no return. He tries to reason with himself that the line between anger and lust is nearly invisible, and that the god is a master at seduction, but he knows that's only a portion of the reason he aches for the man.

He is lonely. Odysseus has spent seven long years with a goddess he did not love, isn't even sure he liked in any regard, and before that he spent thirteen (at least he thinks it was thirteen) long years filled with endless misfortune. Sometimes his crew members would indulge each other, but Odysseus did not dare.

He stayed strong, and remained devoted to his wife.

He closes his eyes.

He stayed devoted to his wife, but he’s now convinced she no longer even walks the same plane as him.

Large arms wrap around him, and he blinks away the tears that begin to blur his sight. Poseidon embraces him in a hug, squeezing him just tight enough that Odysseus’ body starts to protest.

“Poseidon,” he grunts against the pressure, “you're crushing me.”

“This is your punishment for making yourself so alluring,” the god replies, resting his chin on Odysseus’ head. “Rest with me.”

Odysseus can't help smiling. The god’s hazy stupor is a great source of entertainment.

“How can I rest if you threaten to split me in half with your strength?” Odysseus asks, though he makes no effort to break away.

“You must endure, or I may be drawn to split you in half in other ways.”

Odysseus chokes, and Poseidon smirks against his scalp.

It's safe to say Odysseus gets little sleep that night, even as Poseidon eventually dozes off. He keeps his promise of gripping Odysseus like a lifeline.

Odysseus spends this time letting his imagination go wild. If the god wakes up in the middle of the night and hears a small moan, or a tiny plea, Odysseus is none the wiser.

-

A small groan is what makes Poseidon's eyes flutter open.

His eyes adjust to the darkness quickly, preferring it even, as the body below him comes into view.

Odysseus struggles against the promised hold Poseidon has kept on him, the curls in his hair bouncing with every shift of his body, every turn of his head. Poseidon spots beads of sweat forming at his temple, evidence that he has been at this for a while. Odysseus’ eyes are closed, and that's when Poseidon hears it— a sound so delicious he nearly breaks his sleeping guise to devour it.

Odysseus softly moans, and Poseidon realizes with every grunt of movement, the mortal is rolling his hips against his leg. The man pants heavily after every attempt, pausing to get his bearings, then try again. Something hot and heavy rubs against his leg, and Poseidon has to physically hold himself back from pouncing on the man.

His own cock twitches, yearning to push the mortal down and claim him. Oh, how he wishes to grab the man’s hips right now and push into him, break him in and use him over and over again until Poseidon is satisfied.

He can't, he knows he can't, but the thought invades his mind anyway. He inhales deeply. Not yet. He knows he would lose control. His servants would arrive the next day and Odysseus would have his release gushing out of every orifice.

Odysseus gasps as his arousal successfully makes contact with Poseidon's leg for one fast moment, and then the feeling is gone and he groans in frustration. Poseidon gets a very dangerous idea as he watches, barely keeping himself restrained as the mortal struggles on top of him.

He waits a moment, waits for Odysseus to struggle against his hold again, and he lets go. His arms loosen and he sinks back into his seat, as naturally as he can.

Odysseus freezes for a moment, not aware that the god is already awake and watching him, before he leans back as well. He is fast to lift up his chiton and reach under. His arousal is revealed to the room, and he shivers, the cool air no doubt a harsh contrast to his burning desire.

“Damn,” he groans as his hand finally wraps around his already hardened and leaking cock. He jolts at his own touch, his back arching up as his hand gets to work.

Poseidon tilts his head to the side, and he watches as Odysseus pleases himself. Odysseus’ hand tugs at his length slowly, and Poseidon wonders if the mortal is scared of reaching his climax too soon.

His thumb brushes the head of his erection and he shakes with every exhale, hips rolling back before he pushes into his fist again. After a moment, Odysseus’ head tilts back, and Poseidon has a brief moment of alarm, thinking he's going to get caught. His worries fade when he sees that his eyes are still closed.

Odysseus quickens the pace of his hand, and his hips follow dutifully, each roll upwards accompanying a small noise that drives Poseidon a little more insane. The mortal reaches up then, with his free hand, and Poseidon can feel his fingers slide past his hair and make contact with his face. Odysseus cups his cheek, and just as his eyes begin to open, Poseidon is quick to close his own.

This mortal is going to be the end of him.

He can feel Odysseus’ gaze on him, staring, admiring, imagining. The hand on his cheek moves again, this time gliding against his skin and reaching around his head. Odysseus holds onto the back of his neck, and Poseidon can hear him shift his body to accommodate the stretch of his limbs. He feels his body settle on his abdomen, and Poseidon's fingers twitch at his side.

All Odysseus has to do is slide down and he would be in the perfect position for Poseidon to grab him, to enter him and show him how much of him he owns.

He doesn't falter though, and instead Odysseus gets even closer to the god, pulling himself up just slightly. Poseidon can feel his breath so very close to his face, and it takes every ounce of willpower he can muster in order not to open his eyes and end this facade.

The sound of Odysseus’ breathing gets louder and Poseidon can feel his body begin to tremble as he nears his peak.

“Hhhhn,” Odysseus moans loudly, unabashedly. “Poseidon,” he whispers, and the god nearly breaks. Odysseus’ fingers curl into his hair, shaky breaths becoming more and more erratic. He whispers again, “Poseidon.”

With one final pump of his fist, Odysseus arches his hips up and whimpers. Poseidon is almost glad he cannot see the mortal’s climax spill onto his hand. He feels it though. He feels Odysseus’ hand guide his cock through the aftershocks of his release, and he feels it drip onto his abdomen.

Poseidon wishes he could wipe it off and taste it.

As the mortal calms down from his high, breaths slowly returning to normal, Poseidon feels fingers curl into his hair and lips press against his cheek.

“Thank you,” Odysseus murmurs against his skin before pulling away.

Eye twitching, Poseidon is left wondering if Odysseus was truly desperate, or if he just got played. His throbbing untouched cock definitely thinks the latter.

Chapter 8: Look Ahead

Summary:

Odysseus grabs the bronze mirror and he takes a deep breath before he looks at it.

What would he find in his reflection? Who would stare back at him today? The reigning king of Ithaca, a man who has nothing left, or a monster?

Notes:

Please expect slower updates going forward, I am sadly human and my hands need rest! In case you're curious, this is about the half-way point of what is planned. I'm trying very hard to beat the future chapters into submission.

Polyphemus is heavily inspired by a design by @stoneyarrow on tumblr; I love how he looks so much.

_

The following day, Odysseus wakes up from his short slumber in a bed. He blinks a few times, rubbing at his eyes as he tries to recall when he was moved.

He decides it does not matter.

Today is the day.

Today, he and Poseidon will finally speak—

A muzzle nudges at his shoulder. Odysseus’ eye twitches.

He turns around quickly, glaring as a horse stares back at him, the air heavy with a smug taunt.

“You!” He points at the horse’s chest, “You cannot avoid talking to me forever!”

The horse blinks.

Odysseus throws his arms in the air, “You cannot just change into a horse whenever you don't feel like talking to me! I- I don't understand.” He sits up and sighs, hands upturned in his lap. “Is speaking to me that agonizing?”

A gentle touch to his arm pulls him away from the storm beginning to brew in his head. He locks eyes with the horse, and it closes the distance between them to press its muzzle to his cheek. Odysseus cracks a faint smile. The horse’s mouth opens and closes, its muzzle leaving a cold wetness on Odysseus’ face. He pushes its head away with a groan.

“Eugh,” he laughs, “you're disgusting. Fine, why then? You told me we would talk.”

The horse keeps his gaze for a moment, and Odysseus sighs heavily. “Later, then. What plans do you have today? Clearly I'm involved if this is the form you're choosing.”

Just then, the doors to the room open and a servant scuttles inside. She looks up at Odysseus and smiles, but she jumps up when she sees the horse behind him. She kneels quickly, “I did not know you returned to aiding our guest, my Lord.” She stays bowing, and doesn't move until the horse shuffles at his side. She rises and places a tray of food on the table before hurrying off.

Odysseus looks at the horse, “I'm glad I don't have to do that every time you enter.”

The horse tilts its head slightly, contemplative.

“No,” Odysseus pushes its face away again.

He rises from the bed, yawning as he makes his way to the table. He settles into a chair and stares down at the meal the servant left for him. The horse jumps down from the bed soon after, and as Odysseus opens his mouth to take a bite, something is being pushed into his hands. A bronze mirror is urged into his grasp, and he abides, lowering the bread with fish that almost graced his taste buds.

Odysseus grabs the bronze mirror and he takes a deep breath before he looks at it.

What would he find in his reflection? Who would stare back at him today? The reigning king of Ithaca, a man who has nothing left, or a monster?

He hesitates, and the horse nudges the tool with intent. He relents, bringing the mirror to his face.

Earthy brown eyes gaze at him, small lines underneath them, but not so many as before. His eyes no longer look like they are sinking, nor are they covered in dark circles, no, instead, gold streaks have been brushed across his cheeks, his mouth, and if he looks hard enough, his pupils look like they've been highlighted with honey. Curls hang down, caressing his face as they bounce with every turn of his head.

He's not sure who this man is.

Odysseus lowers the mirror, reaching up with a shaky hand as he touches his cheek. He rubs at it, softly at first, and then harder, faster, until he pulls away to look at his fingers. Nothing. Ichor stains his features.

His fingers curl into a fist, one by one as he lowers his hand and looks at the horse.

The sea washes over him as the horse — as Poseidon — gazes at him. Its head is lowered slightly, and its ears look relaxed, ready to hear the first word out of Odysseus’ mouth. The horse draws near, and Odysseus lets it, reaching a hand out to hold its muzzle close. Their foreheads meet as a soft nicker fills the air.

They pull away from one another after some time, and Odysseus can't help but feel like maybe they don't need to talk as much as he thinks they do. Perhaps they've been talking this entire time, and it's him that has not realized it, the conversations constantly being drowned out by his prior fear and guilt.

He lets the silence embrace him, quietly finishing his meal as the screams that always lurk in the back of his head disperse, for just this moment. His circumstances are not perfect, not even close to ideal, but with Poseidon by his side, he feels a little lighter.

Once his plate is clean, he stands and rests a hand on the horse’s back. “Shall we?”

The horse guides him through the doors. A few servants and nymphs bow in the distance as they exit, and one of them even offers Odysseus a smile. He returns the gesture, the body next to him never deterring from its path as it leads them forward.

They enter the room of hallways and for a brief moment, Odysseus pauses, fear creeping into his shoulders as he looks at the pool they had used to leave the palace last time. The horse continues past however, and he breathes. He follows, the stallion turning into a hallway that Odysseus had not even seen.

They stop in front of an opening, and Odysseus peeks in out of curiosity, but he's nudged back by a large muzzle.

“What is wrong?” He asks.

The animal locks him down with its gaze as it slowly backs up. Odysseus tries to follow, but it freezes the moment he does. Each time he moves, the horse stops. Eventually, he plants his feet on the ground and waits.

The horse disappears into the opening.

Odysseus leans against a wall, lifting a knuckle to rest on his bottom lip as he tries to predict what Poseidon's plan is.

The god had told him nothing about what they were doing today. The only thing he had said, when Odysseus arrived, was that he had plans that needed time. What did Poseidon still want from him? What did he think Odysseus needed to do while he decided his fate?

He thinks back to the questions the god originally asked him. He wanted to know why Odysseus called for him, yes, but there was something else.

Something about—

“I do not want to!” A familiar voice makes the hair on his arms and neck stand tall. He backs away from the opening, eyes wide as he catches a glimpse of something moving in the shadows.

Captain…

His fingers reach for the wall, but he is met with air as he stumbles backwards. Screams flood into his mind like a broken dam, shrieking and yelling with a fresh viciousness. He clutches his head, vision blurring as he envisions a club dropping down with all the weight of a giant onto his men. His best friend’s mangled body lays motionless, gone.

Polites was the first.

They all went down after.

“He scares me, father! What if he hurts me again?” A voice wails in the distance, and the screams falter, parting like the sea as one voice becomes louder, rushing to the forefront of his mind, singing like it never stopped.

I see in your face, there is so much guilt inside your heart,

So why not replace it and light up the world?

Here's how to start...

Odysseus breathes. Polites’ hands feel so clear on his shoulders, pushing him up and forward. He rises, slowly but surely, his best friend’s words urging him to believe in a better tomorrow.

He spots the horse waiting by the opening, looking at him with flattened ears. He forces a smile, stepping forward. “I will try,” he whispers and the horse huffs happily. He places a steady hand on its back, and if the horse carries most of his weight as they walk through the opening, that's perfectly fine with him.

The room is large, almost more of a cave, and the darkness wraps around him the further they walk. Finally, Odysseus sees a large figure appear in the corner of the room. Long navy hair falls on either side of his face, but Odysseus is quick to notice how unkempt it is. He steps forward, and the cyclops turns to him.

“Father?” He asks, and Odysseus hesitates before walking closer.

“Not your father,” he says, and Polyphemus flinches. He curls it on himself, bringing his knees to his chest. His single eye moves, looking around for the man he can no longer see.

“I don't want to talk to you,” Polyphemus looks away, pressing into the wall like it can suck him up if he tries hard enough. “You hurt me.”

Odysseus shifts, awkwardly crossing his arms as he holds himself. “I did. I hurt you because you hurt me. That,” he weighs his words carefully, “was not very kind of me.”

Polyphemus blinks, and the horn protruding from above his eyes taps the wall for a few moments. Eventually, he shifts, following the direction of Odysseus’ voice and leaning down towards him.

“You killed my friend,” Polyphemus says, and for the first time Odysseus gets a good look at him. His eye stares forward into the darkness, and Odysseus sees water building up at the edges, falling as he blinks the tear out.

He acts like—, Odysseus’ shoulders slump at the realization, a child.

He is a child. He's Poseidon's child.

Odysseus sinks to the floor, his gaze dropping to the ground.

Odysseus had harmed another child, worse, had blinded him after killing something dear to him.

He tries to look at his trembling hands in the darkness, at the hands capable of hurting children and men alike. When does it end?

Greet the world with open arms,

You can relax, my friend.

“I apologize,” Odysseus says, and he means it.

The cyclops leans in closer, waiting for a punchline that does not arrive. His arm moves and snakes forward, hovering above like it’s ready to strike. Odysseus’ muscles tense up, but he forces himself not to move. The clawed hand lowers, and a finger presses down onto his head. The finger is gentle, careful, and slow as it brushes his hair back.

“You are soft,” Polyphemus declares in awe, “like a sheep.” His hand retreats and the rest of his body unfurls a bit. He leans back, head tilting in thought as his face contorts in a myriad of different expressions. He opens his mouth a few times, but no words come out. He thinks for a long time. Finally, as a droplet hits the floor and echoes from afar, Polyphemus frowns.

“I hurt your friends too,” he says, but it sounds more like a question.

Odysseus closes his eyes and drops his gaze. “You did. You took away men that had families waiting for them, and you took away someone who was very important to me.”

Polyphemus’ frown deepens, “Like my favorite sheep?”

“Yes. He was my best friend.”

The cyclops shuffles around, whines and growls escaping his throat as his mind races. Odysseus slowly rises to his feet, inhaling slowly as he makes his way towards the other. Polyphemus’ raises a fist, and Odysseus flinches, but the fist unclenches as another whimper escapes him.

Odysseus reaches the cyclops and places a hand on his leg. He can only imagine how difficult it is for him to grasp the weight of Odysseus’ loss alongside his own. The touch makes Polyphemus stop moving, head tilting towards Odysseus once again.

“I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me,” Polyphemus begins, “but I don't feel good anymore. I feel bad, really really bad.”

“We hurt each other,” Odysseus admits. “But maybe we can promise not to hurt each other anymore.”

Polyphemus nods, reaching down slowly and sliding his hand along the floor until he can feel Odysseus. A giant hand easily scoops him up and he lets it, rising until he's in front of Polyphemus’ face.

“I apologize,” Polyphemus whimpers. “And not because my father asked me to give you a chance. Because I want to.”

“Thank you,” Odysseus spreads his arms out and, with Polites’ words ringing in his head, he wraps them around the cyclops’ thumb.

Polyphemus smiles, using his index finger to lightly pet Odysseus.

They stay like that for some time, studying each other, their pasts lingering but not controlling.

“So,” Odysseus breaks the silence, “what else has your father said about me?”

“A lot. He thinks I don't listen when he talks, but I just think it's gross.”

“It's very gross,” Odysseus pats his thumb. “What kinds of things does he say?”

“He said he likes your—”

“That's enough, son. Give me my mortal back.” Poseidon's voice calls out from below. Odysseus peeks out, a wicked grin settling on his face.

“Did you say something? Sorry, we cannot hear you.” Odysseus turns to Polyphemus and whispers, “Let us pretend we do not hear him.”

Polyphemus grins, chuckling as he nods. “We have lost our hearing, father. It must be the wool in our ears.”

“Yes, it's true. Only we can hear each other right now. This space is reserved for those who are willing to talk through their problems.” Odysseus smiles as Polyphemus laughs. “Now, tell me all the things your father has said about me.”

Polyphemus opens his mouth to speak, but pauses when the air stills. The ground begins to shake and Odysseus falls to his knees in Polyphemus’ hand. Pieces of marble split apart, and for a moment Odysseus fears that the castle will break into pieces.

His thoughts are quieted as a figure enters his view.

A giant hand, much bigger than the cyclops’, reaches over and lifts him up by the scruff of his tunic. Odysseus’ body goes limp as he stares up at Poseidon, who is now barely confined by the palace walls.

“I said,” Poseidon brings Odysseus up to one of his eyes, “that's enough.”

Odysseus’ muscles tense up before last night replays in his head, easing him back to normalcy. He smirks.

“I did not think you could get any louder,” Odysseus teases against his better judgment, against the voices in the back of head beginning to tell him terrible, hurtful things.

“I could crush you in an instant.”

“You won't,” Odysseus breathes, a smile spreading from ear to ear. “You won't because I'm yours.”

Seeing the gold blush that quickly unfurls across the god’s cheeks is worth his future regrets, he decides. It's hard to be scared of his size when he knows he's in no danger. He descends as the god shifts back to a more tolerable height, though the grip on the back of his chiton never leaves. Odysseus expects Poseidon to drop him unceremoniously onto the floor, but he is lowered slowly and carefully. He gasps when two clawed hands cup his cheeks, pulling him in until lips are touching his own. He hesitates for only a moment before leaning in, deepening the kiss as the god holds him so sweetly.

“Eugh,” Polyphemus expresses his disgust, “I can hear you kissing.”

Odysseus smiles against Poseidon, pulling away as a blush of his own paints his face. “Forgive us. We will take our leave.”

“Can I have my sheep back now?” Polyphemus pouts. Odysseus hears the snap of fingers as a bunch of sheep fill the room in an instant. “Yes!”

Poseidon, still holding Odysseus’ face, begins to back away, luring the mortal to him with every step. They exit the room and Poseidon pushes him up against the nearest wall, his mouth returning with a hungry vigor. Their mouths clash and Odysseus can't help the small groan that escapes his parted lips as Poseidon pushes inside. Their tongues touch, feel, and swirl around each other. The taste of salt settles on his taste buds, but he tells himself it only enhances the experience. Something sharp touches his tongue for a brief moment, and he spots Poseidon's bared teeth as they pull apart.

“I should bite that tongue of yours off for your constant disrespect,” Poseidon announces, face still so close that Odysseus can feel his breath.

“Then how will I call for you?” Odysseus retorts.

Poseidon shivers and Odysseus makes a mental note for another day.

“You are playing a dangerous game,” Poseidon leans forward, pressing their foreheads together as he forces them to lock eyes.

Odysseus can't help himself, “Am I winning?”

Claws dig into his cheeks, but just before they can draw blood, they retreat. Poseidon pushes himself away, turning to look at the opposite wall as he trembles.

“Too far?” Odysseus reaches out.

“Little king,” Poseidon's voice is more gruff than usual, “I'm serious, I am not fully in control of myself. I know you enjoy poking the beast, your entire life is proof, but I warn you because—” His pauses.

Odysseus tilts his head, brows rising as he silently urges the god to continue.

“I don't want to force myself on you, and I don't want to break you. Not anymore.”

“It would not be by force,” Odysseus steps forward.

“I saw the way your body tensed, Odysseus. You still fear me.”

The words hang heavy between them, Odysseus opening his mouth to deny them, but his silence takes over the conversation instead.

They remain that way for a long time.

All the words they want to say, and all the things they don't dare say mix together, one becoming indistinguishable from the other as they fuse and swallow the god and the mortal.

Odysseus’ chest aches to comfort the god, to comfort the man who he once considered his biggest enemy, but he knows deep down that's not how things should go.

Poseidon hurt him deeply, and had taken from him many men, good men who all had families waiting for them at home. He had almost killed him too, and a part of Odysseus still wonders if he should have.

Despite their barely contained desire, the horse that frequented him for comfort, and despite the feeling of warmth that tickles his cheeks whenever he's in his presence, Poseidon is still the god that drowned over five hundred men. Even if it was for his son, or if it was because Odysseus’ original apology sounded fabricated, or because mortal lives are fleeting in the presence of their divine eternity; Poseidon made his choice.

And yet.

Still, Odysseus yearns to reach for him, to embrace him and forgive.

Maybe it's the years of pain clouding his common sense, or the fact that whenever he's in the same room as Poseidon most of those clouds disappear, he is unsure. All he knows is, his heart beats for the other in a song whenever they are together.

If he is doomed to hide from Zeus for the rest of his life, then at least it’ll be with Poseidon by his side.

Odysseus steps forward, the sound echoing in the hallway as Poseidon's fins on the side of his head flare out before laying flat. Odysseus closes the gap between them, and with a strange buzz in his head similar to one he felt over twenty years ago, he wraps his arms around the god.

Poseidon melts into his hug immediately, turning around to return the embrace as he pulls Odysseus even closer. They bathe in each other's warmth, holding each other like if they let go, one of them will disappear. Odysseus tilts his head, his heels leaving the ground as he pushes himself up to meet Poseidon's lips. They kiss softly, sweetly, and so slowly.

When Odysseus pulls away, he sees the tornado of emotions stitched into Poseidon's features. He sees his brows pinched together alongside blue eyes that speak to him, telling him the words he knows the god cannot yet say out loud. Whether it's Poseidon’s pride, or the weight that comes with acceptance, Odysseus decides to give him the thing he felt he had already wasted so much of; he gives Poseidon time.

He smiles up at him, and though the god remains unmoving, standing tall above him, Odysseus can sense the air shift, and in another world, Poseidon kneels for forgiveness.

That world is not his own, and for now, Odysseus accepts this.

Notes:

Edit [04/08/25]: Fixed Poseidon's blush color, oops.

Chapter 9: Steady

Summary:

“For each question I ask, you may ask one in return.”

Poseidon glances away as he considers the suggestion, his expression unreadable until he looks back. “Do the questions have a limitation?”

“No,” Odysseus says before he can regret it.

Poseidon smirks.

Notes:

Tags have been updated with some future events in mind, stay safe!

Soft hands cup Odysseus’ face as he lays in bed, and he leans into them, bringing his arms around the figure laying next to him. He pulls the person in close and presses a soft kiss to their skin.

“Odysseus,” Penelope smiles, pressing their foreheads together.

“Let us take the day off and relax in bed,” Odysseus hums, peppering kisses across her face as she huffs in laughter.

“We can't,” she replies, tucking one of his curls behind his ear.

“I know,” he mumbles, his embrace tightening around her.

An early morning breeze fills the room as they hold each other. Neither of them say anything as the sound of the sea outside makes him tense up ever so slightly. Penelope presses her lips to his temple, her smile spreading.

“I miss you,” he says.

“I know,” she sighs, pulling away to gaze down at him.

“Our time together is something I'll never forget,” he sits up as his skin begins to itch.

A wave crashes into the shore outside.

“No one is asking you to,” she whispers.

Odysseus’ chest aches. “I love you,” he reaches out, heart pounding louder as another wave crashes into the wall, this time splashing through the balcony.

“I love you too,” she clasps his hand between hers, gazing into his eyes, and the way her shoulders lift as she holds him suffocates him in a way he doesn't dislike. “But,” she brings his hand up, planting a kiss on each of his fingers, “you have been hurting for far too long. We both have.”

Odysseus’ bottom lip quivers as his vision begins to blur with his impending tears. The castle shakes, the water outside growing restless as Penelope’s outline begins to fade.

“Tell me, my love, what ails you?” Penelope doesn't pull away, she stays put even as the ground beneath them begins to crack and break. “What fears taunt your being?”

“I love you!” He shouts again, and the castle stops trembling for a moment.

“And?”

“I am scared that if I open myself up to another, then the ache I cling onto when I think of you will begin to fade. The pain is all I have left.”

The room is silent as hot tears spill down his cheeks, his admission sinking below him, shackling him in place.

“You are more than your pain,” Penelope leans forward, effortlessly swatting at the shadows that bind him. “Let yourself be happy.”

“I think I am getting there,” Odysseus breathes.

“Good,” Penelope fades away, and the darkness he expects to swallow him starts to recede.

The castle stands, crumbled and broken, but it has not fallen. It stands strong, even as the disappearance of his wife makes Odysseus wish it would come tumbling down with him inside. Morning light shines in through a window, bathing Odysseus in a warmth he tries to retreat from, but his body urges him forward. He crawls off the bed, unsteady legs walking him to the balcony.

The sea greets him from below, and Odysseus can't help the small smile that appears.

He is not ready to jump in, but he does lean forward to rest his arms on the castle wall, eyes drifting to the body of water. The tide pushes forward, and small rocks and crabs follow. As the water retreats from the shore, Odysseus thinks he would not mind getting pulled along with it.

He wakes up with an arm around him, the body behind him a lot closer than usual. Odysseus turns to face the god, only to find that two eyes are already peering down at him. They stare at each other, and Odysseus visually traces the outline of Poseidon’s face, etching him into his memory as he is in this very moment. They move at the same time, closing the gap between them as they share a small kiss. Odysseus is the one to deepen it this time, slowly, still unsure. Poseidon slides an arm underneath him and pulls him in, hands trailing down his back before they settle on his thighs.

When Odysseus pulls away, he does so with resistance.

“You're awake early,” he says.

“You were dreaming,” Poseidon replies, as if that explains anything.

The remnants of Odysseus’ dream tickles his mind, and he smiles, “It was nice.”

Poseidon raises his brows curiously, but he gets no response as Odysseus only chuckles.

“You're not a horse today. Is today the day we get to talk?” Odysseus asks, looking up.

Poseidon hums, a single claw grazing the surface of the mortal’s cheek. “Or we could do away with words all together and let our bodies speak.”

Odysseus’ body responds, his hips twitching forward, but he stays strong. “Are you able to control yourself so that I don't break?” He watches the god purse his lips in the slightest pout and laughs. “We can make it a game.”

“Go on.”

“For each question I ask, you may ask one in return.”

Poseidon glances away as he considers the suggestion, his expression unreadable until he looks back. “Do the questions have a limitation?”

“No,” Odysseus says before he can regret it.

Poseidon smirks.

Damn.

“Is this the only place that is protected from your brother?” Odysseus starts, purposely not saying the god’s name lest he let him know he's thinking of him. He would probably enjoy knowing he's lurking in the recesses of Odysseus’ mind.

Poseidon makes a sound that he can't decipher before mumbling, “My palace is not even entirely safe from him.”

“What?”

“The only thing keeping him from visiting without an invitation is knowing I would be furious, and I don't intend to let him get the upper hand over me the next time he tries to touch you. My brother is arrogant, and selfish, but even he knows his limits.” Poseidon chuckles. “Besides, if I am not fully in control of myself, then neither is he. You did quite a number on him.”

“I did not even realize it was happening.”

“You wounded not only his body, but his ego. I wish I could say he'll let this go, but I know better. He won't.”

Odysseus sighs.

“Do not fret, I don't ever intend to share you with him.” Poseidon presses a kiss to Odysseus’ temple. “My turn. How much experience with intimacy do you have?”

Odysseus sputters, “P-Poseidon!”

“You said there were no limitations on questions.”

“I did not think you would ask something so— ugh. I've slept with my wife, and that's it.”

“King and a captain, and not once did you give in to any of your men?”

“No, I was- I am very devoted.” He shrinks into himself, really not wanting to tackle his strange circumstances anymore. “Can we move on?”

“Yes. Also, that was your question.”

“Poseidon! You also asked multiple questions!”

“Yes, but you did not stop me, so that's your problem.” Poseidon smiles, a little lighter, the mischief in his voice dropping. “How do you feel about me?”

Odysseus feels his cheeks heat up, and he ducks his head, laying flat on his back to stare down at nothing. “I am unsure,” he says honestly, “but I know I feel comfortable with you. Though I loathe to admit it, your presence is nice.”

“I see.” Whatever expression Poseidon makes, Odysseus refuses to check.

“You're also very,” he chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment, “charming. Very alluring.”

“You have such a way of avoiding saying you want me to bend you over in bliss.”

Odysseus brings his hands up to his face, shielding himself from Poseidon's laughter and the blush creeping further across his skin. He smiles though, a warmth spreading through his chest despite his embarrassment. He feels like a young man again, pining for someone he did not know how to approach.

Eventually, he calms down, slowly uncovering his face to see the god staring down at him with an emotion that makes his breath hitch.

“Your turn,” Poseidon whispers, never looking away.

Odysseus’ mouth flounders for a bit before he finds his voice, “You have been here for some time now, do the other gods not question where you've been?”

“They've tried to contact me. They are all aware of my brother's burning need for you; it's impossible to ignore when his actions speak for him.” Poseidon pauses before continuing. “Athena especially has been trying to get in contact with me.”

The name hits Odysseus like a heavy anchor. “Athena,” he breathes, and for one small second, he feels a tug at his mind.

“She knows better than anyone that the moment we leave the confines of my palace you become a target.” Poseidon's eyes soften when Odysseus deflates. “I will try to find a way to speak to her.”

“Thank you,” Odysseus says sincerely. “It's your turn.”

“How do you plan to repay me for my trident?”

Odysseus wrinkles his nose. “Can't you just,” he motions with his hands, “use your divine power to summon it again?”

“Not while my brother has it.”

“Oh. So that means we won't be using it in the next encounter, either.”

“We'll need to think of something else. Go ahead now.”

“Why did you request I talk to your son?”

Poseidon curls a claw in his hair and lightly pulls on it, “Because someone disgraced him.” He pauses when Odysseus frowns. “And because I thought it might be good for both of you. You've grown a lot since I first released you from Calypso’s grasp.”

“Your son is a gentle soul deep down. Perhaps, if I made a better decision long ago, things would have been different.” Odysseus sits up, one leg slipping off the bed as he turns away. Two arms snake around his waist almost instantly, and he melts into the hug, resting his head on Poseidon's chest.

“You cannot change what happened, little king. Look ahead instead of steering backwards, or you'll find the same rocks blocking your path each time.” Poseidon presses his lips to Odysseus’ ear.

“Do gods have regrets?”

“Rarely. It's difficult to feel remorse when there is always a tomorrow for us. No matter our actions, especially involving mortals, the next day will come.” He tightens his hold. “Sometimes things linger in our heads a little longer though.”

Odysseus inhales slowly, exhaling only when Poseidon hugs him even tighter.

They remain that way for some time, a conversation they are not yet ready to have floating above them before disappearing.

“Poseidon,” Odysseus whispers, “what am I to you?”

“An experience.” Poseidon's claws dig into his arms as he gets ever closer, as if Odysseus is going to shatter if he does not hold him. “One I do not want to forget.”

A servant walks in, a tray in her hands. She spots the two, a god clinging to a mortal with such intensity, and she gasps. She bows, quickly placing the meal down on the table before leaving just as quickly as she appeared.

Odysseus and Poseidon do not move, the interruption doing nothing to distract them from planting this moment into their memories. Odysseus realizes he wants the moment to bloom, he wants to make more memories with this enticing god in this world filled with blood, pain, and loss.

“We should move,” Odysseus says, voice quiet.

“We should.” Poseidon rests his head on top of his.

They remain together in bed for the rest of the day, almost like statues come to life. They exchange whispers, just a few words, before they fall silent again.

They had talked, but it felt like there was still so much left to say.

The next day, Odysseus wakes up and reaches for the body beside him, only to find the space barren. His hand splays on the sheets, moving up and down as he searches. When only air greets him, he sits up, eyes looking around the room.

Empty.

His shoulders tense up, and all the nights he spent deliriously staring at the moon come back to him in waves.

Sleep was a blessing they never received. The constant sway of their ship, the screams of soldiers, and faces of loved ones that were beginning to fade from their memories were all they knew. When they did fall asleep, it was for one brief moment in time, and it was never in comfort.

Odysseus spent days without sleeping at all, watching his reflection in the ocean, seeing his wife’s eyes look back at him. Many of those days, Eurylochus and Polites stood by him, holding his shoulders as they talked about returning home. They spoke of all the things they would do once they saw the shore of Ithaca again. Perimedes would bring up an impossible feat that he was sure he could accomplish, and Elpenor would always laugh first, causing the rest of the crew to join in.

After all the blood they shed, their choices, and the things they promised to each other, they were now spirits. Sometimes when Odysseus wakes up, he can still feel their hands on him, and he can faintly hear their laughter.

Odysseus curls up, closing his eyes as an emotion he knows all too well bubbles up in his chest. His grief consumes him, tightening his throat as he starts to cry. Memories swirl around in his head, all the good and the bad mixing together into a ball of regrets.

Multiple hands try to reach out to him, but they keep shifting, keep trying to touch him when he's too far away. Tired eyes stare up at the moon, pleading, begging, praying for a chance to float again.

Time passes. He's unsure how much time as he stares at the wall, unable to move. He froze in place awhile ago, muscles aching but refusing to budge. There's a knock on the door, but he remains stuck.

Someone walks in, and two hands slip around his waist, pulling him in close. Lips press to his temple and Odysseus blinks.

Two fingers grab his chin and force him to look up, and as Odysseus meets Poseidon’s gaze, he sobs. He holds onto the other as a wail escapes him, burying his face into the god’s chest as he falls apart. His shoulders loosen up and he lets Poseidon carry his full weight; he lets him see and hear all the distant memories that still live under his skin each day.

Poseidon holds him, not saying anything, and not needing to.

Nightfall arrives slowly, and as the room darkens, Odysseus’ head tilts back with a quiet moan. Soft kisses trail along his chest as Poseidon moves down, thumbs soothing small circles into his hips. There is silence, and then a sharp pain on his pelvis as teeth punctures skin. The pain fades quickly as a tongue laps at the wound, Odysseus’ hips bucking up at the god being so close to where he really wants him, no— needs him.

Poseidon kisses Odysseus’ hips, making the mortal tremble with desire. Hands slide to his thighs, parting his legs with ease as the god settles between them and drags Odysseus down the bed. Odysseus brings himself to his elbows, staring as Poseidon stops to gaze at him. Slowly, still watching, Poseidon descends and places a kiss onto his erection, eliciting a gasp. The god smiles in the darkness, glowing eyes the only light in the room as he sinks down, swallowing Odysseus’ aching cock.

Odysseus whines, eyes half-lidded as Poseidon lowers his head down, taking all of him in like it's no challenge at all. Compared to the god, it probably isn't. Bottomed out inside Poseidon's mouth, Odysseus keens, legs shaking as they're held up. He falls back, staring at the ceiling as the room is soon filled with the sound of his needy pleas.

It's not long until he's curling his fingers into the sheets, calling out for the other with each exhale. “Poseidon,” he warns as his stomach tightens, hips arching up to meet every bob of his head. He moans the other's name as he sees stars, trembling as Poseidon holds him close, making eye contact with him to ensure Odysseus watches him swallow.

He shivers, Poseidon pulling away only once he's entirely drained. His prior desire slips from his mouth, and Poseidon travels up again, stopping to kiss every visible scar that he can see as he rises. Odysseus steadies his breathing, barely open eyes watching as Poseidon draws closer, leaving no patch of skin untouched.

A firm hand holds the side of his face, and Odysseus hums, catching Poseidon's gaze. The god does not move off of him, weight settling like a heavy blanket as Poseidon rests his head on his chest.

“You are incredible,” Poseidon says, and Odysseus listens in silence. “You are something special, king of Ithaca, and with every passing day, I begin to wonder why I did not claim you sooner. You are hardened by years of mortal affairs that will mean little as the passage of time continues, however— right here, and right now, you are everything. If I could pause in one moment for the rest of my eternal life, I would choose this one.”

Poseidon speaks to him like a man at an altar; he tells Odysseus about his every flaw as if they are all endearing, and every imperfection like it's something to praise. He talks to him even as Odysseus’ eyes begin to close, a deep exhaustion quickly pulling him under.

He talks, and talks, until Odysseus can no longer hear him.

Notes:

Now Playing: 'Take Me To Church' - Hozier

Chapter 10: Trust

Summary:

“I'll stay down here. There is barely enough room for you and our guest as is.” Poseidon looks at him before his eyes glance at something behind the mortal.

“Guest?”

Notes:

Tag update!!!

 

Listen, I can explain. I can totally explain- I swear it's relevant! I had a vision.

That being said, if that kind of thing makes you uncomfortable, or if you just don't think you'll enjoy that, please feel free to skip the end of the chapter. Better safe than sorry <3

_

A few days pass, and Odysseus realizes he's starting to lose track of time. After years of counting down the days since he'd last been home, the number is starting to fade away, and he finds himself not remembering yesterday from the present day.

It does not help that his thoughts have been getting increasingly consumed by a certain god of the seas.

Even now, as he stares at his meal on the table, a blush dusts his cheeks at the thought of Poseidon. They spent the last few days in bed, Poseidon insisting his responsibilities could wait as he bathed Odysseus in an affection he could never predict, not even if he walked this plane for thousands of years.

A part of him fears that he will wake up any moment and this life will be gone. He worries he'll be back on Calypso’s island, and that everything he went through was a cruel joke by the gods for thinking he could smile again.

He doesn't wake up though, and each day he grows a little more comfortable.

“Little king,” Poseidon opens the doors, the fabric wrapped around his hips swaying frantically as he steps into the room with purpose.

Odysseus has no time to respond before he's being kissed, bread still in hand as the god leans over. They pull away and Odysseus no longer feels hungry as a daze washes over him.

“Yes?” Odysseus murmurs, blinking the stars away from his eyes.

“I have plans for us today,” Poseidon offers his hand, and Odysseus doesn't think twice as he grabs it. The god helps him stand, pulling him forward as they leave the room, fingers intertwined.

The servants look at him differently as he's led down the hall. They smile at him, and they bow for Poseidon as per usual, but he spots the way their bodies angle to include both of them in their sights.

They stride past them and enter the main pool area. As he begins to wonder if they're going to go into another mysterious hallway and end up somewhere that feels like it shouldn't exist in the confines of the palace, Poseidon turns and guides him towards the large pool.

His feet stop moving, freezing in place as Poseidon tries to tug him forward. They share a look, his mouth in a thin line before Poseidon kisses it away.

“Trust me,” Poseidon murmurs against his lips, and Odysseus gives in quickly, unable to deny the god any longer.

“No horse today?” Odysseus tilts his head as Poseidon steps down into the pool, water circling his hips as he slowly sinks in at a pace he controls.

“My disguise is no longer needed,” Poseidon huffs, and Odysseus can't help the way his eyes trail to those sharp teeth, his hip burning at the memory of Poseidon's mark on him. He steps into the pool, letting Poseidon's hold on his hand keep him afloat.

He takes a deep breath, and they dive down. He closes his eyes at first, but the grasp on his hand squeezes, and he peers into the depths curiously. He nearly exhales early when he realizes Poseidon is not leading him upwards, instead swimming along the seafloor as sediment flies past his face.

Odysseus makes an unheard noise as he's twisted around, Poseidon circling them so the god’s back is facing the ground. A hand settles on his hip and as Odysseus stares down at the god who makes his heart swell, he notices the body beneath him has changed. Poseidon's legs are no longer, having transformed into a smooth, grey, and rubbery tail.

Poseidon grins at him, long navy blue hair dancing around his head, pearls shimmering along loose strands, and Odysseus thinks maybe, just maybe, this is the moment his memories with Poseidon bloom into a field of flowers. His heart pounds against his chest, but then a small voice taunts him with whispers of doubt.

Poseidon leans forward and captures him in a kiss, eradicating the voice like it never existed to begin with. He shivers as a tongue presses against his lips, parting his mouth to let the god in despite his survival instincts yelling at him not to.

Odysseus breathes.

His eyes widen a fraction as Poseidon lulls away, a smile still on display.

I see how I survived the original descent, Odysseus thinks.

Poseidon spins him around again, this time as they go through a hole in a seamount surrounded by vibrant coral.

Time feels like it slows down when Poseidon raises a hand, causing a burst of bubbles to surround them in a cocoon. A turtle swims by Odysseus’ face, webbed feet grazing his cheek as it pushes itself forward, disappearing from view. A crab floats up on a stray bubble, gracefully floating in a descent once it pops.

Poseidon captures him in another air-giving kiss, and Odysseus wonders how he can still feel like he is suffocating. A strong tail below him angles, slamming against the seafloor as they begin to ascend.

Their heads break the surface of the sea, and Odysseus spots a small island, or rather, a minuscule piece of land that can barely pass as an island. Poseidon guides them towards it, easily lifting him up and placing him on the islet.

Odysseus looks at him curiously as he makes no effort to move.

“I'll stay down here. There is barely enough room for you and our guest as is.” Poseidon looks at him before his eyes glance at something behind the mortal.

“Guest?”

A whistle fills the air, and as he turns his head, a small noise escapes him.

An owl flaps down beside him, slowly growing in size until a familiar figure lands on her feet in front of him. A woman with wild hair barely concealed underneath her helmet gazes at him.

“Athena?” Odysseus’ face pulls tight as his adolescence flashes through his vision.

“Odysseus!” Athena reaches forward and rests both of her hands on his shoulders, eyes searching him for a moment before she sighs. “Odysseus, it's been a long time.”

“It has,” he whispers, and he can't help the way he begins to shrink into himself, her disappointment in him still vividly replaying in his head.

“Odysseus,” Athena says again, this time a little lower. A hand gently cups his cheek as she directs him to look at her. “You're alive. More than that, you're glowing.”

“I'm alive, but it's not thanks to my own actions.” His face begins to crumble, and Athena surges forward, pulling him into a hug.

“I led you astray,” she squeezes him close, and Odysseus lets himself fall apart again. “I miscalculated.”

“We all did,” Poseidon says from below. “Hello, niece.”

“Poseidon.” Athena glares at him for a moment before turning back to Odysseus, expression softening. “I checked on you, but I couldn't find what happened to you after encountering my father. You just disappeared, and then I hear from that same man that you are in Poseidon's grasp!”

“I was trapped on Calypso’s island,” he breathes, “for seven years. I wanted to call for you, and I almost did. I ended up calling for someone else without thinking.”

His eyes wander to Poseidon, only half of the god’s face peeking out at him as most of his body hides beneath the water. Odysseus’ mouth twitches as a smile threatens to spread across his face. “I must be honest, I do not regret my choice.”

Athena looks between them, a silver glint in her eyes appearing as a bird above slows down to a complete stop. “Are you in danger? Answer me this once and I will not press any further.”

“I am safe. I am the safest I have ever been, strangely.” Odysseus answers honestly.

“I don't appreciate your tricks, Athena.” Poseidon's voice growls, his momentarily still figure breaking through the goddesses’ time pause. “Would I bring him here just to taunt you that he is mine now?”

The frozen bird flaps its wings as the flow of the area is restored.

“Yes, you would.” Athena bites back.

Poseidon considers this for a moment, “I would. He's hard not to show off.”

Athena makes a face, glancing at Odysseus with a grimace. “Are you absolutely sure you are okay?”

“Athena,” Odysseus laughs. “I promise. Poseidon is gentle. He is warm. I am—” he pauses, his own confession making a heat spread through his chest, “I am happy.”

Her defensive stance falters, looking between them one final moment before letting it go. She smiles, “I have not seen you like this since you were a young man.”

She raises a brow in a silent question, but Odysseus just ducks his head, his light chuckle her only answer.

A calm silence approaches them, so Odysseus asks the question at the forefront of his mind, “Your father?”

“Hermes is distracting him,” she answers. “I have not concocted a decent enough plan yet, but Hermes says he has an item that can help you keep my father away in case he gets too close. He did not specify details though, and knowing him it could be anything. I'm going to look into it the first chance I get, and then we can think of a plan together.”

“Like the good old days?”

“We will make new memories together.”

They grin at each other, and Odysseus really does feel like he's in another world, a young man not yet touched by the weight of divine intervention.

“Odysseus! Athena!” A voice calls out, nearly tumbling into Odysseus’ backside.

“Hermes?” Odysseus turns his head, the messenger god appearing with a strained smile.

“Oh how I missed you, darling! We can't talk now though; a thunderstorm is brewing, if you catch my drift.” Hermes’ wings on his helmet flutter as he pushes Odysseus forward.

“That distraction did not last long,” Athena sighs, holding her arm out as her spear manifests.

“Turns out talking to the big guy when he's already seething just puts a target on my back! Which means you're next. One of us gets in trouble, we all get in trouble!” Hermes giggles, but it sounds more exasperated than gleeful. “Come now, time for a romantic getaway. I will be telling others about this once my father isn't around, by the way. This is just spectacular.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Poseidon's eye twitches as he brings Odysseus down into the water.

Dark clouds begin to roll in and all of them look up in silence.

“Go!” Athena shouts, “We'll meet again, old friend.”

Odysseus leans against Poseidon, “Thank you, Athena, Hermes.”

Both of them smile at him, and his blossoming flower field expands into a meadow. He sinks slowly, Poseidon letting him look at them just a little longer.

“Wait,” Athena gasps, head whipping around as if she just remembered something. She reaches out just before their heads submerge.

“Odysseus, Telemachus is alive!”

She's out of ear shot as Odysseus’ eyes widen, and then he tries to remove himself from Poseidon's grasp, pushing at his chest and reaching out above his head. He is dragged down, a sturdy hand on his back trying to calm him, but at that moment nothing else matters.

His son lives; Telemachus is alive!

For the second time that day, Odysseus breaks, wailing into the sea as a barrage of bubbles escapes him. A mouth presses against his own as Poseidon tries to hold his head in place to give him the air he needs, but Odysseus cannot think, tossing around in a desperate attempt to get more answers.

Eventually, his chest burns, and he relents, opening his mouth to Poseidon as his body goes slack. A large hand holds the side of his face, and Odysseus closes his eyes.

The face of a young man stares at him when his vision goes dark, but the details of his face are blurry, unsure. Still, Odysseus’ heart beats quickly, wanting to hug the boy and never let go ever again. His son is alive somewhere, and Odysseus needs to return to him.

His eyes open, and Poseidon's hold on him falters for just a moment. Whatever he spots on Odysseus’ face, he does not say.

Odysseus looks up, beyond the all encompassing sea, into the skies above that he can no longer see.

He will see his son again.

It is not much later when they enter the palace, Odysseus being lifted up as Poseidon steps out. His eyes flicker down in confusion, but then he sees the tail quickly breaking apart and transforming back into legs.

Servants stand off to the side, watching, and when Poseidon stands up straight and unharmed, they all sigh in relief as they kneel.

It's Odysseus that leads the way into the bedroom, opening the large doors and then finding a wall for purchase as Athena's words repeat in his head.

“Do you wish to be alone?” Poseidon stands tall, shifting his weight onto one leg.

“No,” Odysseus replies fast, “I just need a moment to collect myself.” He drags a hand down his face, his thoughts a scattered mess.

After a few minutes of just breathing, Odysseus moves, taking a seat on the bed. He hears Poseidon begin to follow behind him before stopping. Odysseus looks at him curiously.

“I will return later,” Poseidon says abruptly, twisting around and heading out the doors.

Odysseus stares at his back as he leaves, opening his mouth to say something, but the doors close before anything comes out. The palace walls stare at him, and Odysseus’ lip curls as he's hit with a feeling he's been trying so hard to rid himself of.

He screams, shooting up from the bed as his fist slams into a wall.

He already has too much to think about, what gives Poseidon the right to make him suddenly worry if he did something wrong?

His son is alive, his patron god returns to him, and the god of the seas steals kisses from him whenever he has the opportunity. So why is he so angry? Why is he so confused? Why does he still ache?

Because none of it matters.

Odysseus glares at the ceiling.

None of it matters if he's in the way.

His face neutralizes as he slowly sinks to the floor. He sits with one knee up, resting his arm on it as he stares ahead in thought.

Odysseus spends hours on end mapping out the layout of the palace in his head, calculating each route he's seen, and the likely formation of the ones he hasn't. By the time the fog in his mind begins to clear, he has a vivid image of every marble pillar down to the algae that clings to it.

He rises, ignoring the food a servant brought him earlier, and makes his way out of the room. A few startled servants glance over, already mid-bow before realizing the man that walks down the hallway isn't their god.

Odysseus peers down the small holes in the ground as he passes, stopping to dip his foot in each of them as he tests if they all lead into the same body of water. Something grazes his leg in one of them, and he recoils quickly. By the time he's done, the servants are all staring at him and whispering.

He ignores them, pushing open the doors to the second much larger room. The maze of hallways taunts him as he draws near, walking down the first one he sees. He keeps a hand on the walls as he navigates through, stopping at each door and opening to peek his head in.

The first opening leads into a large room filled with pearls, and while beautiful, something tells him he really shouldn't touch them. The second area has a bunch of women sitting by a pool leading outside. He's spotted quickly, and as they begin to smile at him, he starts to feel like he's been through this before.

Two of them start to shift, both growing taller than him, but into vastly different bodies. Penelope and Poseidon stare at him, and he shuts the door just before they open their mouths to lure him in. He darts away, losing track of where he already explored as he tries to outrun the truth. He stops only when his legs ache, bending forward to hold onto his knees as he pants. When he catches his breath, he stands and looks around.

There is barely any light this far in, and only a single door waits at the end of the hallway. Curiously, he makes his way to it. There's an intricate design carved into the marble, depicting Poseidon's reign over the sea. He places his hands on the door, but goosebumps shoot across his arms when he does. His back straightens and his heart skips a beat. He completely freezes up as a sense of dread consumes him.

Something scurries behind him, but he can't bring himself to budge, his muscles locking up.

“Back away from there!” A voice calls out.

Odysseus tries, he really does, but it feels like his body no longer belongs to him. Two hands grab his shoulders, and he flinches, instincts taking over as he spins around to strike.

A young man locks eyes with him and he pauses, fist barely away from his face. Odysseus blinks a few times, the heaviness in the air lifting just enough to regain himself.

“I apologize, it was the only thing that came to my mind!” The young man holds his hands up defensively. “If you opened that door you would have gone mad.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our Lord is beyond that door.” A pause. “In his true unrestrained form.”

Odysseus’ arms droop to his side as he turns his head to the door again. He's not sure what compels him, but he asks, “What is he like when he's in that form?”

“Indescribable. All we know is mortals cannot handle looking at him, or any of the gods like that.”

“Why is he in that form?”

“I wish I could answer your questions, but we do not question our Lord. I- I just didn't want him to lose his favorite guest.” The young man offers a small smile, “I also enjoy our little talks while I try to brush your hair.”

Odysseus returns the smile, “Thank you. I dare not think what would have happened if you did not appear.”

A quick nod, and then the young man is turning away to leave. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to deal with some sirens who think it's funny to frighten our prized guest.”

“Wait! What is your name?”

“Oh, I am Pelagios.” Pelagios smiles at him before turning the corner.

Odysseus steps forward as Pelagios leaves, but a feeling of dissatisfaction fills him to his core. He looks at the door again, making his way towards it before turning around to sit flat against it. He tilts his head back and looks at the ceiling.

Why did Poseidon leave him just to transform into something he could not even imagine?

With a sigh, Odysseus presses his hand to the door without much pressure.

“Are you comfortable? I can't help but wonder why you didn't just tell me you needed this. Was I preventing you from being in this form?” He hums.

“Are you angry with me?” He trails his hand along the carved sea. “Perhaps you were worried you'd frighten me.”

He closes his eyes. “I'm no longer scared of you, Poseidon. I only long to be in your embrace again after such an intense day.”

The door opens against his back, and Odysseus starts to turn his head in surprise.

Don't.

Odysseus fully stops as a voice in his head, one he's unsure is his own, commands him to keep facing forward.

Something tugs on his chiton and he gasps, the sense of dread returning alongside something else, something almost familiar. He closes his eyes again as the foreign thing, maybe a tentacle, slowly wraps around his entire waist.

It's smooth, but also slimy, and it makes Odysseus tremble at the contact.

“You—” he swallows, searching for his words as they try to flee from his mind. “You came.”

Just then, he's surrounded by wriggling forms as more and more begin to wrap around him. A high-pitched noise leaves him as his tunic is ripped apart, revealing his body to the cold hallway. He can't explain it, but this action urges him to keep talking.

“Really? Even in this form you cannot resist—” he is cut off as something enters his mouth. A long limb swirls around his tongue, the sharp taste of salt causing him to gag a bit. It twirls around in his mouth, and as it does, another one wraps around his embarrassingly hardening cock. He groans and arches into the wet sensation, shivering at how unlike a human it feels.

Then the surrounding elongated limbs are swiftly twisting him around, lowering him onto his knees as he shivers. The tentacle in his mouth inches closer, deeper down his throat, and he forces himself to relax at the intrusion.

He has something to prove.

A third and fourth wriggling sensation pulls his legs apart and he lets them, the grip on his cock tightening in just the right way as something slimy teases his entrance. A full body tremble later and Odysseus feels each limb press into him at the same time.

He moans loudly around the tentacle tickling the roof of his mouth. It becomes too much and he chokes, coughing out the invasive body part as the rest of him continues to obey the remaining onslaught.

“P-Poseidon,” he gasps, “I'm not scared of you any longer!”

The tentacles all pause their movements for a moment, enough for his cock to twitch with want, and then the wet sensation against his entrance slides into him, causing him to cry out. The thing that was in his mouth slides around his neck, and Odysseus has a brief thought.

He's trying to frighten me.

With this in mind, he gives in fully, the tension in his muscles fading away as he relinquishes himself to the mercy of the god of the seas’ true form.

The stretch he feels is strange, overwhelming, but despite that it's also gentle and slow. It's slick and wet as the weight leaves him only to enter again a moment later, filling him up in a way he's never experienced before. The limb chosen is smaller and thinner than the others, and he's ashamed at the blush that covers his body with this knowledge.

“I'm not scared,” he repeats as the tentacle around his neck tightens a fraction, “I know you won't hurt me!”

Just as he begins to reach his peak, he's moved around again, this time onto his back. The cold floor burns his skin and he hisses, a whine escaping him as his body is released and the unknown retreats.

He lays there breathing heavily as he tries to listen. There are several snapping sounds, like bones cracking, and then the closing of a door.

A claw touches the underside of his chin, “Look at me.”

Odysseus’ eyes flutter open and he's met with the sight of Poseidon’s luminescent eyes glowing brighter than ever, pupils contracted into tiny slits, fins spread out, and sharp dangerous teeth.

“You're beautiful,” Odysseus breathes.

Poseidon's eyes dilate with hunger and in a flash, Odysseus’ earlier emptiness is filled once more as the god’s cock slides into him.

He groans, a pang of pain disappearing as soon as it appears when Poseidon thrusts him into him with an intense fervor. His hips buck up when Poseidon strikes a spot that has him gasping for air. His vision blurs as teeth sink down into his chest, the pain amplifying his pleasure.

Odysseus gets consumed by the god, words irrelevant to the revelation he feels every time their bodies meet.

Leaning forward, Poseidon brings his arms around Odysseus’ back, lifting the mortal up as he settles back onto his knees. Gravity pulls Odysseus down and he whines, feeling full in so many more ways than one. Poseidon captures his mouth, and even though their sex is anything but slow, the god takes all the time in the world kissing him.

A hand trails down his stomach, and the instant it wraps around his cock, Odysseus knows he's not going to last. He holds onto lean muscle as his head falls back, a shower of dazed moans escaping him as he lets himself go.

“I'm yours,” he sings, and Poseidon's claws dig into his skin as he thrusts up and locks into place.

The air is filled with ragged breaths as Poseidon releases into him, and soon Odysseus feels overwhelmingly full. He shivers as he's filled so deeply to the brim.

He falls limp, letting his full weight collapse onto the other. Poseidon's length slips out of him, and with it an uncomfortable leakage. He's lifted up with ease, and they make their way down the hallway.

A part of him wants to speak up, but he finds that no words register in his mind. Instead, he wraps his legs around the other, clinging onto him with little strength.

He catches the eye of Pelagios bowing as they pass, a visible pink in his cheeks as they walk by.

Odysseus will feel embarrassed about it another day.

Notes:

Thank you for 600 kudos!!! Silly Art

Chapter 11: Freefall

Summary:

“I'm a god; I take what I want, when I want, and no one other than my family can try to tell me otherwise. So why, Odysseus, do I care so much for what you desire? Why am I beginning to put your needs ahead of mine?”

“Because you care for me?” Odysseus peers up at him.

Notes:

Enjoy :') Please read note at bottom when done!

Thank you for 700 Kudos!

___

Odysseus wakes up to his face being peppered with a flurry of kisses.

“Mmmn?” He says intelligently, a kiss then capturing his mouth.

“I could not help myself,” Poseidon murmurs against his lips.

Odysseus laughs, low and a little breathless, and then he stretches. He winces as a sharp pain radiates up his back.

Oh. Right.

“You,” he swallows, “were something else.”

“I was in my true form,” Poseidon nips his cheek, “and you are an idiot that nearly blinded himself, or worse, lost your mind.”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Odysseus hums, reaching up to caress both sides of the god’s face. “I missed you.”

“You're ridiculous.”

“Perhaps, but then what does that make you?”

“A fool,” Poseidon leans into his touch, and the way his fins spread out between his fingers makes Odysseus’ heart soar.

“Careful, god of the seas, or I may start thinking you've fallen for me.” He says, but his words are shaky, unsure. If it turns out he's been opening himself up to the wrong idea, or if Poseidon laughs at him —

“I could not dive any deeper if I tried.”

Odysseus exhales, surging forward to press their lips together. His heart bursts, warmth traveling throughout his entire body. Their mouths part at the same time, and their tongues find each other.

Hands press onto his still naked chest, grabbing and groping him in a way he has not felt in many long and lonely years. A thumb brushes against a scar below his pectoral muscle and he shivers.

They shuffle around the bed for a bit, grabbing each other in spots they dared not before, tasting and savoring every part of their bodies.

When Poseidon lays flat on his back, claws tracing circles onto his lower back and half-lidded eyes looking up with parted lips, Odysseus wastes no time settling between his legs.

He’s caught off guard though when he’s met with Poseidon's demanding cock.

He is huge, Odysseus wheezes, because even his thought feels like an understatement. Thinking of the night before, of this same desire inside of him, he trembles. Poseidon had been so careful and gentle that he did not even notice. The slick tentacle probably helped too.

He wraps — or at least tries to — his hand around the intimidating length, and Poseidon hums in approval. A few teasing licks and rather clumsy strokes later, and Odysseus lowers his head, pressing his tongue to the god’s entrance.

Poseidon purrs, his cock twitching as he lifts himself onto his elbows to watch. Odysseus feels his face warm up, but he pays no mind. He slips his tongue into the other, and in a matter of moments Poseidon's head is tilting back as he begins to pant.

“You don't,” Poseidon trembles, “need to be so safe. I will be fine; I’m a god. I want you, Odysseus.”

Not needing to be told twice, Odysseus retracts his tongue and trails up his body. His hands settle on Poseidon's hips, angling himself as he uses every muscle he has left to hold up his much larger frame. Finally, like a rising chorus, Odysseus sheathes himself in Poseidon's all encompassing heat. Both men moan, and Odysseus has to stop himself from moving, immediately worried he'll lose himself to pleasure in seconds.

Poseidon feels perfect around him, like he was made for him, no, waiting for him. How long had the god existed? It did not matter. Odysseus could feel it in the way the other pressed against him, silently begging him to move.

“You are mine,” Odysseus announces, thrusting forward.

“I will outlive you,” Poseidon says and stares at him with dazed eyes, still keeping himself up. “Do you think you can claim a god?”

“Watch me,” Odysseus pounds into the body below him, roughly but slowly, aiming for the spot he knows will have the god melting in his hands. Oh, and melt he does. Poseidon cries out, hips desperately trying to meet his own every time Odysseus pulls away.

With an insatiable hunger rising from deep within, Odysseus backs up off the bed, newfound strength dragging Poseidon with him. Now standing on one leg, the other kneeled into the sheets, Odysseus pounds into the god with renewed vigor.

“P-please,” Poseidon says, but Odysseus isn't looking for him to beg, no.

“Say it,” he grunts, snapping his hips forward.

“You cannot claim eternity!” Poseidon nearly whines, his pride slowly cracking away with each hit to his prostate.

“Meet me in the Underworld then,” Odysseus dares, “I will show you that you are mine long after I no longer walk the same ground as you.”

Poseidon falls back, hands clinging onto the bed as he struggles, the sheets slicing underneath his claws as he quickly rips through them. His head tosses and turns, and Odysseus suddenly stops moving all together, almost pulling out entirely.

“No!” Poseidon keens, and Odysseus can see the way he tries to squeeze around his erection to no avail.

“Who do you belong to, god of the seas?” Odysseus asks, his own chest rising and falling with barely restrained adrenaline.

Poseidon whispers something inaudible and Odysseus slowly pushes in, just enough to drive the other crazy.

“Louder.”

“Oh gods, Odysseus, I'm yours! Do I need to scream it from the top of Olympus? I'm yours, and you're mine! Zeus himself could not drag me from your grasp. I'm completely, utterly, yours, you idiotic mortal king! Now hurry up and—” His eyes roll back as Odysseus slams into him, toes curling when Odysseus finally touches his leaking cock.

“Don't say your brother's name while I'm inside of you,” Odysseus jokes despite Poseidon’s intoxicating heat rapidly getting the better of him.

It's not long before he's thrusting with reckless abandon, his pace on the god’s arousal becoming stilted as he pushes as deep as he can be inside of him. He climaxes with a silent moan, fingernails digging into Poseidon's hips.

Poseidon is soon to follow, body twitching as his back arches, crying out for Odysseus like a prayer. His release quickly covers up his abdomen, and Odysseus realizes with every slow jerk of his fist to help the god through the aftershocks, that Poseidon just keeps going.

He isn't sure what compels him, but he slowly pulls out, only to kneel down and take the tip of the still leaking member into his mouth. Poseidon whines from the overstimulation, gasping when Odysseus swallows. He makes a pleasurable noise as the length slips out from between his lips.

“You,” Poseidon sighs, “are a monster. I was wrong, I've fallen so much deeper.”

Odysseus drops face first onto the bed as his body gives out. They both lay there, trying to catch their breaths as they recover.

Poseidon is first, curling a claw into his hair and tugging a curl. “Who told you that you could deny me my pleasure for even a moment?”

Damn his fast healing body.

“You loved it,” Odysseus murmurs against the sheets.

Poseidon doesn't deny it, and Odysseus smirks.

Time passes and someone comes in, makes an embarrassed noise, then scurries away. Neither of them move, far too invested in the silence.

At some point, Odysseus turns onto his side, and Poseidon is quick to wrap his arms around him and pull him in close. He doesn't complain, resting his head on the god’s chest.

“What made you leave yesterday?” He asks.

“The more time I spend around you, the more mortal I begin to feel. It's making me,” Poseidon thinks for a moment, “irrational.”

“Irrational?”

“I'm a god; I take what I want, when I want, and no one other than my family can try to tell me otherwise. So why, Odysseus, do I care so much for what you desire? Why am I beginning to put your needs ahead of mine?”

“Because you care for me?” Odysseus peers up at him.

Poseidon sighs, looking down at him. “I suppose I do.” After a pause, he continues. “I left because those irrational thoughts were going to make me say, or do something I would… “

“You would?”

He narrows his eyes, “That I would find bothersome later on.”

“What caused those thoughts?”

“My desire to keep you all for myself.”

“I am yours, but I am also someone else's.” Odysseus presses his lips to his fins.

“I know this, and I will not keep you from your family. I am not jealous of them, I—” Poseidon shuts his mouth in frustration. Odysseus keeps kissing his chest, and eventually he feels the god relax. “Your lives are so short. I will miss your presence.”

“I'm still alive, Poseidon. You tell me not to let my past stalk me, so please, do not let what has not yet happened cloud your judgement of the here and now.” He rolls over onto his back. “Besides, I am not even sure when I can return to them, or who I'm returning to.”

“You would talk in your sleep when you first arrived here. You are convinced your wife is gone?” Poseidon asks.

“At first I convinced myself of that because I no longer wanted to be alive myself. As time goes on though, there's something in the way my chest aches each morning.” He reaches up towards the ceiling. “If my dearest Penelope does still live, I only hope she is happy and safe.”

Fingers reach up to intertwine with his own as Poseidon leans in close. “Tell me about her.”

“She is beautiful. When I first spotted her as a young man, I knew immediately I needed to make her mine. I even asked Athena for help.”

“I bet that irked her.”

“Terribly, but she found it endearing deep down. I could tell.” Odysseus gazes at their hands. “Penelope is intelligent and strong. Her hands are precise with weaving, and throwing a weapon at a target. She's a warrior at heart, but her gentle touches will convince you otherwise.”

“What if she lives?”

Odysseus falls quiet.

“Savor the rest of her and I’s time together, and hope she sees in you what I see in you.” He answers finally.

Poseidon smiles, untangling their fingers and pulling him into a kiss.

The next day, Odysseus wakes up not to Poseidon in bed, but to Pelagios setting a meal on the table.

“My friend,” he yawns as he sits up, the blanket pooling around his thighs.

“Ah,” Pelagios’ cheeks are dusted pink as he scrambles to hold something out. Odysseus is confused until he realizes it's a new tunic.

“Oh, I apologize.” He takes the clothing and quickly dresses.

“You seem to be having fun,” Pelagios chuckles, settling into his usual spot behind Odysseus as he brings out a brush. “I must admit, the sounds coming from this room lately are what I expected when you first got here.”

“How thin are these walls?” Odysseus pales.

“Thin enough.” Pelagios laughs before trying to beat a particular curl into submission. “Do not fret, we are used to it. Well, that is what I would say, had I not heard our Lord calling for you. I'm impressed.”

“Can we please talk about something other than our public intimacy?”

“If you insist.”

“Do you know where Poseidon is right now?” Odysseus tilts his head, the brush in his hair soothing away his worries.

“I am not entirely sure, but he is not in the palace.”

Odysseus freezes, “Not in the palace? Isn't that dangerous?”

“His brother seeks you, not him. Our Lord’s wrath is not something the god of the skies wants to handle without reason.” Pelagios sighs in defeat as Odysseus' hair curls and puffs back up again.

“I see. Thank you, my friend. I appreciate your talks, and the sense of normalcy you bring to me.” Odysseus smiles.

Pelagios rises from the bed and makes his way towards the giant doors, “I appreciate you too. Our Lord has been so happy as of late, and it's a welcome change. It's definitely because of you. I can see why; you are very kind. Wounded, but striving.”

He leaves Odysseus to weigh those words.

As he waits for Poseidon, Odysseus notes how light he feels, and how clear his head is. He hears nothing for once, and when he closes his eyes he can see Poseidon smiling back at him. He knows it's foolish to assume the scars woven into his very being will disappear, or that the screams are gone forever, but for now he can relish in the airy feeling of freedom.

It's around the evening when the doors open to reveal Poseidon on the other side. They look at each other, and Poseidon answers him before he can ask. “Two separate ships clashed and thought the smartest thing to do was call for me to handle their feud.”

“Did you?”

“Oh yes, I decided they were both wasting my time. They are now enjoying a lovely trip.”

Odysseus raises his eyebrow.

“At the bottom of the sea.”

“Poseidon.”

“I jest. I turned them into marine life.” Poseidon flashes a toothy smile and Odysseus tries not to let it wrap around him and squeeze away his resolve.

“I don't know if that's a fate more cruel than death or not.”

“It gives them time to remember their place in this world. If they survive, they have a chance of becoming better men.” Poseidon says it with so much conviction that Odysseus feels himself starting to believe it.

“I must say, I'm impressed you didn't just drown them.”

“I was going to, but then I thought of you.” Poseidon struts over and crouches down in front of the mortal. “You're making me merciful, Odysseus. I don't appreciate it.”

“I think it's a good look on you,” Odysseus leans forward to kiss him.

“I always look this way.”

“I always think you look good.”

Poseidon practically lunges at him, pinning him to the bed with hungry eyes.

“I still ache,” Odysseus sighs, not fighting back.

“Is this a test? Do you think I'll be merciful for a second time today?”

Odysseus looks up at him, into those hypnotic eyes. He huffs, “I know you won't.”

When night arrives, Odysseus is laid flat against the bed panting, a collection of new bite marks surrounding him, particularly on his thighs.

“I am not a young man anymore,” he says as Poseidon licks at his wounds.

“That's part of why I can't stay away,” Poseidon purrs, planting a kiss onto a still sore bite before rolling onto his side. “Maybe I should turn you into an animal too. How do you feel about being a sea turtle? I could keep you around for longer.”

“I would nip at your ankles all day long,” Odysseus chuckles, his breathing returning to normal.

They spend the rest of the night discussing different animals. They both know it isn't going to happen, but it's the underlying honesty that keeps the conversation going.

They want to spend as much together as they can. No matter how much time they have left, it will never feel like enough.

The days pass by, and each one is filled with the god and mortal holding onto each other like they're the only ones alive in the world. They stride through the hallways of the palace, almost dancing in the way they twist and turn and laugh in each other's embrace. Their footsteps are never far from one another's, the servants bowing for them as they walk by.

Some days Poseidon takes him into the depths, and Odysseus spends this time admiring all the beauty he never knew existed in the ocean. The mysterious pressure of something lurking in the dark lessens, almost like it's used to him as well. They spend evenings collecting shells, pearls, and discovering creatures Odysseus didn't even think could be real.

“Some may be frightening to you, but when you need them the most, they will be there for you.” Poseidon tells him after one of their little adventures.

The constant swimming helps him rebuild his muscle, and his eyes slowly grow accustomed to the salt. Truthfully, ever since he survived Zeus’ initial attack, and with Poseidon by his side, he's felt stronger than ever before.

He spends more time with Polyphemus when he's alone, and he learns all the names of his sheep. Polyphemus tells him about the conflicting emotions Poseidon experienced with him, and Odysseus laughs at how different they are now. The god cannot hide anything from him.

One morning, as Pelagios enters the room, Odysseus snatches the brush from his hand and urges him to sit down. It is not long before the young man begins to doze off as Odysseus brushes his hair for once.

Time flies by, but Odysseus grows to accept, after many nights of praise and adoration, that he is allowed to be happy. He is allowed to smile again, and above all, he is allowed to love.

Poseidon and he grow to have entire conversations with their eyes, never needing more than a few words to express themselves.

This god who once was the reason for his ruin now lays in his arms each night and looks at him like he is the divine one. Poseidon makes him feel alive.

It's during a conversation Odysseus is having with a few nymphs that Poseidon calls to him.

“Odysseus,” a large hand rests on his head.

“Poseidon,” he breathes, turning to face him.

“It's time. My niece wants to discuss a plan with you. We leave tomorrow.” Poseidon pulls away and Odysseus is quick to follow, the two of them disappearing into the bedroom.

They spend the night, unsure of what awaits them the next day, exploring each other's bodies. Soft moans turn into needy pleas, and laughter turns into tears.

Whatever awaits them, whatever truth Odysseus will encounter tomorrow, they have each other tonight, and neither of them plan on letting go.

Notes:

I am warning you, dear reader, that the next few chapters of this fic are going to be a lot more intense and serious. I will update the tags BEFORE the next chapter goes up, and you can decide if you want to continue reading. I want you to be safe, no matter how much you enjoy the fic. If this is where we part, I appreciate you reading up to this point. That being said, this fic WILL have a happy ending for the most part. I do not like super depressing endings for I am a big sap at heart.

Side note: The next few chapters will be a little slow to come because I am waiting on a surprise for you guys.

Chapter 12: Loss

Summary:

The conversation ends, and Odysseus can feel the air grow heavy. He needs to ask. He needs to know.

Notes:

Tags have been updated for the rest of the story. Please, please, please pay attention to them. The last thing I want to do is make someone uncomfortable.

If you think a specific tag needs to be upgraded, let me know. I asked many people before I added a tag out of worry.

See you all on the other side.

___

Neither Odysseus nor Poseidon sleep.

When morning arrives, Odysseus is kissing each of Poseidon's fingers on his flesh hand. He's unsure if it's the years of not having anyone this close to him, but the god is intoxicating. He makes Odysseus feel like he's floating through a clear river. Or perhaps, he’s trying to calm the anxiety lurking around his shoulders.

“Little king,” Poseidon whispers as Odysseus reaches up to intertwine their fingers. “We leave soon.”

“Today is the day,” Odysseus hums. “Today, I will find a way to get back to my son.”

“I will be by your side the entire way,” Poseidon squeezes his hand, and Odysseus’ heart flutters. No matter how many times he wakes up to the god next to him, Odysseus feels so very full.

“Are you ready to confront your brother if we must?” Odysseus peers up at him.

“Yes.” Poseidon glances away the longer Odysseus looks at him. “He is my brother no matter what, but he needs to learn not to touch what's mine.”

They stand soon after and leave the room. Odysseus looks back, wondering for a brief moment if he'll see it again.

As they open the door, Pelagios and another servant rush over to hand him his meal of the day. They kneel afterwards, but Pelagios offers him a smile before he leaves.

“Thank you, my friend.” Odysseus ruffles Pelagios’ hair, making him pout.

The two of them stride to the second room of hallways and, no words required, Odysseus allows himself to fall back into the pool. He falls against a powerful chest as Poseidon catches him, carrying him into the sea.

It's not long before they arrive at the same small island from their previous adventure, and Odysseus spots a familiar frame already waiting for them.

“Athena!” He calls out as Poseidon lifts him up from the water. He scrambles to get his footing, standing next to the goddess as she turns around to face him.

“Odysseus,” she smiles. “I'm glad you're well.” Her eyes flicker across his body. “Better than well, you look as much a young warrior now compared to when you first left.”

“If only my stamina could agree,” Odysseus laughs. They pause, looking at each other. “Athena, my son. Is he—?”

“He is alive, and he is well. I have been training him in your absence. He is so much like you.” She brings a hand up to rest on his head. “He may be taller though.”

“Tell me about him, please.” Odysseus leans forward, his body buzzing at the description, at any detail he can get to better imagine the young man he has not seen since the start of his long journey.

She lowers her hand, blue eyes flickering with an emotion he can't grasp. “He is a good young man. He is strong, but he is also gentle. He is merciful even to those who do not deserve it.”

“That must drive you crazy,” Odysseus says.

“Not as much as you might think,” she admits.

The conversation ends, and Odysseus can feel the air grow heavy. He needs to ask. He needs to know.

“Athena,” Odysseus swallows. “What of Penelope?”

Athena says nothing, mouth pressing into a tight line.

She closes her eyes.

How did suffering become so endless?

That's all it takes for Odysseus to collapse onto his knees as a feeling he knows too well, but never this hostile, erupts from within. A ringing noise shoots through any and all noise in his mind, and he grabs his head as his belly is overcome with an acidic coating.

“No!” Odysseus shrieks, the world crashing in an instant. He stares at the floor as everything begins to spin, nausea quickly filling every fiber of his being. He dry heaves, at first, but when a hand hesitantly reaches for him, he recoils, bending over the edge of the islet to release the contents of his stomach.

His palms dig into the sand as his body continues to try and throw up, but nothing else comes out other than a strangled groan. He shakes his head, voices nearing the forefront of his mind with a chant.

I'm surrounded by the souls of those I've lost.

Believing she is no longer with him does not compare to hearing the confirmation of her absence.

“She protected Telemachus,” Athena sounds far away, but he grasps at her words, reaching for the final moments involving his wife. “The men who dared to try and force their way onto your throne planned to kill him. He was surrounded when we returned from setting sail. I was by his side, but he was outnumbered.”

Odysseus’ hands shake as they dig further into the ground. He feels something dark speak in his place, “Did they kill her?”

“No.” Athena answers immediately. “She killed them all. The Underworld knows no fury like a mother's wrath. She, Telemachus, and the guards protected the castle. More than that, she opened her arms to the people of Ithaca and assisted women just like her in their sorrows.”

Odysseus breathes heavily, Athena's words ringing in his head as he sits back. “She was always fierce. She was- she was incredible.”

“Odysseus,” two hands settle on his shoulders, and this time he doesn't retreat.

“She met a woman named Callias,” Athena continues. “She was a widow who lost her own husband several years ago. She and Penelope kept each other company until her final days.”

“What happened?” Odysseus rubs at his eyes, his tears endless.

What if I'm the one who killed you?

“She got sick, Odysseus. It was sudden and without warning. She passed in Callias’ arms, and with Telemachus at her side. She told them—” Athena pauses, looking away as her fists begin to tremble at her sides. “She told them to tell you that she still loved you. She was adamant you were alive until the very end.”

Odysseus sobs all over again, his heart clawing at his chest in an attempt to escape the burning ache.

“I'm so sorry, Odysseus.” Athena steps forward, reaching a hand out.

Odysseus shakes his head, ripping his gaze away to stare at the skies. He lost his chance to see her again, and it's all because of him.

What if I've been far too kind to foes?

“Don't,” a voice whispers behind him. The hands on his shoulders travel down slowly, massaging circles into his arms. “He does not deserve to hear your pain.”

Anger pulses through his veins, but when he tries to stand, to scream, his legs fail him. He falls forward, landing on his face with a weak grunt. The red in his vision fades as tears begin to build up again, a whimper escaping him as he wails into the sand.

“Let it out, Odysseus.” He feels fingers running through his hair as Poseidon sits next to him. “Let yourself feel, or the ocean within will consume a part of you.”

Odysseus screams, balled fists slamming into the ground as memories of Penelope replay in his head every time he closes his eyes.

The day he finally got the courage to speak to her, the moment they got married, their first time in bed — the bed he crafted with his own two hands, and her tired smile when she held up Telemachus for him to see.

It's a wound that no sword nor arrow could ever dream to cause.

Odysseus screams, and screams, until the darkness takes him.

___

“I wanted to wait until after we made a plan to tell him, but he deserved the truth.”

A voice tickles the back of his mind. He tries to open his eyes, but his eyelids stick together.

“Life is cruel to mortals.” A pause. “We are cruel to mortals.”

“What is going on between you two, uncle? You would not dare speak like this before. You are different.”

“I feel different. He has made me consider my actions.”

Odysseus rubs at his eyes in an attempt to get them open.

“He's good at that, isn't he?”

“He's incredible, Athena. I care for him deeply.”

Finally, he is able to look around. He sits up, noting someone must have rolled him onto his back. The light of the sun is quick to make him lift his arms above his head. He hisses at the light, a headache forming.

“He awakes.”

Odysseus turns when he feels a weight next to him.

Poseidon gazes at him with pinched eyebrows, normally blue now gray eyes searching his face. “How do you feel?”

“Like a ship fell on me.” Odysseus clears his throat. Poseidon holds a small jar up to him and he drinks from it, the cool water dispelling the haze in his vision a bit.

“Odysseus,” Athena speaks up, standing as far away as she can get. “I didn't mean to upset you mere moments after you were so happy.”

“Stop. You did nothing wrong, Athena.” He rolls his head around, his muscles feeling tired in a way beyond physical. He sighs. “I have the rest of my life to mourn, however much is left of it. We need to plan.”

He meets her gaze, “I need to meet my son. I need to survive for him.”

She nods, and Odysseus swears he sees a flash of silver in her eyes as she approaches. “Hermes gave me this bag to give to you. Supposedly it has raging storms within it.”

Odysseus frowns, “I've used such a bag before.”

“How do my storms keep getting — I need to speak with Aeolus when this is over.” Poseidon scoffs.

“The bag isn't enough though,” Odysseus murmurs, thinking of the immense strength the god of the skies has. “He's agile, has incredible strength, and he's a menace from afar and up close. He also won't take another fight where he's outnumbered. It caused me to slip from his grasp last time. He needs to be in control.”

He stares at the bag closely, his mind racing like he's back on the battlefield.

“I know that look,” Athena smiles. “What are you thinking?”

Odysseus slowly turns to look at Poseidon.

“Do you trust me?”

___

They discuss a possible plan for some time, and the day passes by slowly. They speak in peace until the fluttering of wings disturbs them.

Hermes appears, but something about the way he's flying through the air catches Odysseus’ attention.

“He's coming!” Hermes shouts, clinging to his arm as he winces. “He knows Odysseus is here!”

Lightning strikes down right in front of him, causing the messenger god to crash into the water before he can say anything more. Dark clouds roll in, covering the skies in mere seconds.

“Hermes!” Athena shouts, but a second later there's multiple pops in the air. Two arms wrap around Odysseus, and Poseidon dashes into the sea. Even submerged, he can hear the boom of thunder above. He tightens his fist around the bag of storms in his hand.

They wait a moment before he squeezes Poseidon's arm and they swim to the surface.

Athena is kneeling down, using her spear to keep herself up. Odysseus reaches his hand out, “Athena!”

“You'll call every god except me, won't you?” A voice calls out, and Odysseus feels every hair on his neck stand.

Zeus floats above, clouds caressing his body as he slowly drifts down into view. “Hello, little king. It's been awhile. Surely my brother's palace is suffocating you.”

Something shimmers after another crack of lightning hits the water. Poseidon's trident looms above, slowly rotating in a mocking display.

“Such an intelligent mind helped by my daughter, and you decided the smartest thing to do was wound me?” Zeus disappears and before Odysseus can blink, he's in front of him, electric gaze sending a jolt down his spine. “That was pretty dumb.”

The water below begins to circle them, quickly rising as a whirlpool encases the three of them. The grip on his waist tightens as Poseidon easily ascends, floating above the swirling sea. The moment they are away, jets of water shoot out at Zeus, twisting around his arms like shackles as they try to pull him under.

He grunts as his flying capabilities are interrupted, directing a look at Odysseus even as he gets tugged backwards.

“I'm giving you one last chance, brother. Leave what's mine alone; let go of this obsession with Odysseus.” Poseidon shouts, strands of hair flaring out as he threatens the other god. “We can move past this.”

The air stills for a moment, both brothers glaring daggers into each other's existence.

“I can't.” Zeus replies, an electrical current flowing around him as he pulls against the liquid chains, slowly lifting himself up.

More sprouts of water strike out from the depths and wrap around his arms as Poseidon growls. “Can't you learn to forgive?”

Silence.

“No.” The electrical currents snap around Zeus faster before traveling to his hands. A blinding light erupts from his fists as he soars at them, the sea recoiling at the force.

Odysseus watches as Zeus heads towards him, reaching for him with a wide feral grin. He blinks, and then he's diving down as Poseidon tosses him.

The two brothers collide as Odysseus slams into the water, his body panicking for a moment and flailing before his mind commands him to calm down. He swims to the surface, popping his head out just in time to catch Poseidon and Zeus flying at each other. Zeus soars through the sky with the expert accuracy of a predatory bird while the ocean bends under the will of Poseidon, pooling around his ankles to lift him up. Zeus’ hands press together, and as they pull apart they reveal a thick bolt of lightning in his grasp.

They crash into each other again and the resulting downburst knocks Odysseus out of the water, causing him to skate across the surface, desperately holding onto the bag in his hands. He's convinced he's going to keep flying, but then the sea catches him, a gentle wave caressing his form as it stops his momentum.

“Why are you so insistent on protecting him?” Zeus shouts as the air clears.

“Because you need to learn a lesson!” A wave starts to form behind Poseidon, growing higher and higher until it makes both gods look microscopic. The wave crashes down, and Odysseus watches as it slams into Zeus with its full force. The impact sends Zeus flying backwards so far that Odysseus loses sight of him.

He knows better than to think that'll keep the god down for long.

The sea begins to quake, and Odysseus tries to keep afloat, coughing as water finds its way into his mouth.

“Poseidon?” He calls out as waves surge forward together in the same direction.

“Prepare yourself!” Poseidon's voice booms and Odysseus turns to see him growing in size. “He cannot be reasoned with.”

As Poseidon reaches his full unfiltered height, clouds descend in mass as they get pulled to a figure in the distance like an orbit. Zeus floats closer, clouds hugging his now substantial body like eager servants as he slowly nears.

Odysseus is pinned between two gods at their full heights.

Memories of leaving Calypso’s island flash through his head as a giant hand scoops him up. Poseidon picks him up and, slowly, as if Odysseus will break if he makes any wrong move, places the mortal on his shoulder. Odysseus jumps down, seating himself close to Poseidon’s neck.

“I am the god king,” Zeus says the moment the brothers are across from one another. “I take what I want, when I want, and I want that idiotic mortal that clings to you like you're his world.”

“You will not be touching him.” Poseidon hunches low, like an animal getting ready to strike.

“Why is he still alive?” Zeus asks. “Surely you've had your fun with him; I can practically smell you all over him.”

Poseidon's fingers twitch and Odysseus feels the way his neck tenses up.

“I get it now,” a wicked grin splits Zeus’ face. “You fell for him, didn't you?”

“That is none of your concern,” Poseidon growls.

“The same mortal who harmed your son? The one whose entire fleet you drowned? That's the mortal you caught feelings for?” Zeus laughs and it sounds like thunder.

“He's done more to make amends than you have!” Odysseus yells before he can stop himself, Zeus’ words making his blood boil beneath his skin.

“Is that so?” Zeus cocks his head, leaning closer in his bed of clouds. “Has he apologized?”

The silence that follows wraps itself around Odysseus’ neck tightly, reality cackling at the way his lips pull into a thin line.

“I knew it,” Zeus rests back in the air. “He and I are the same. I bet he whispers sweet nothings into your ear before bedding you, am I right? He doesn't mean it, you know. You're going to die just like every other mortal. He does this all the time, far more than me. You are nothing to him, Odys—”

Zeus releases a blood curdling scream as ichor bursts from his eye, Poseidon's claws swiping forward and getting stuck before he can finish his sentence. Claws dig into his face and lightning shoots down erratically around them.

“Keep his name out of that vile mouth of yours!” Poseidon curls his claws and Zeus makes a strained screech as his eye convulses, eyelid twitching rapidly. Zeus’ hands fly out, pushing Poseidon's face away in an attempt to escape.

Poseidon steps forward and, using his entire weight, drags Zeus out of the air and slams him into the sea.

The giant god’s body hitting the surface immediately causes a tsunami to erupt forward towards unknown land. Odysseus clings onto Poseidon's skin with great effort, nearly getting flung down when he attacks his brother. As Odysseus watches lightning continue to strike alongside Zeus’ anger, and the tsunami stride forward without a second thought, he realizes something.

If this continues, people will get hurt.

Two gods fighting in their most dominant forms can cause such horrific natural disasters no man would be able to survive.

He does not get to think for long as he feels Poseidon falling backwards. He stumbles, arms flailing wildly for purchase. He grabs onto Poseidon's hair as he spots Zeus’ claws slashing forward in a pounce. He hears a hiss of pain from Poseidon as his chest is torn open, ichor flying out before the three of them sink below the surface.

Odysseus barely gets to inhale as he smacks into the water, his body trembling from using his strength to remain attached.

“This is my domain!” Poseidon yells clear through the water, and Odysseus’ ears ring from the intensity, arms shaking from the vibrations.

The blue of the ocean turns into gray skies as Poseidon shoots out of the water, a single claw raised to keep Odysseus steady on his shoulder. The sea for as far as Odysseus can see rushes to his aid, swirling around the god as it is lifted into the air into an ever growing ecosystem of cascading waterfalls.

Zeus is staring up at them, and for just a moment Odysseus thinks he can see the god’s good eye widen in fear.

Poseidon holds the fury of the briny deep above his head, aquatic life still swimming around in panic within. Some animals jump out in a desperate attempt to escape their impending doom. Poseidon’s breaths are fast and ragged, feral growls leaving him with each exhale.

Odysseus envisions the aftermath.

He sees people across multiple lands screaming, fleeing from the ruthless wrath of the seas, praying, wondering what they did wrong as entire civilizations are wiped out.

“Don't!” He shouts, bringing both of his arms up to hold onto Poseidon's neck. “Please!”

He feels the body below him tense up just a fraction, and he continues. “Poseidon, countless people will die. Man in its entirety may cease to exist! You are better than him. Don't do this!”

Wild breaths turn into a forced hum as the god becomes coherent, blinking away his unbridled rage. The portion of the sea above his hand slips through his fingers, twirling around his body as it safely descends and returns home.

“Letting a mortal tell you what to do, brother?” Zeus’ voice makes Odysseus recoil, bringing his hands over his ears. “So be it.”

The sky blackens as Zeus raises his arms above his head. Clouds above glow as an energy begins to build inside of them, the rumbling of thunder brewing like a beast.

“You need to go!” Poseidon shouts, looking from the clouds to Odysseus, cheekbones and jaw knit tight. Slitted pupils look down at him, and then he's being lifted into the air. Poseidon holds him in front of his face with an expression that Odysseus has never seen on him.

“Odysseus I—,” Poseidon starts, but the whirring clouds drown out his words. Eyes stare at him for a brief second, but it feels like it lasts an eternity. Odysseus sees all the words Poseidon wants to say in that moment, all the things he regrets.

Without another word, a sharp claw slices the wind bag open and Odysseus is flying — no, not flying — he's plummeting. He angles the bag as a storm pours out of it, pushing him down as the sky releases its fury.

A flash of lightning terrifyingly immense in size strikes down and hits Poseidon, the god’s body lighting up so fiercely that Odysseus has to look away. The bolt travels down his body and hits the water so hard it causes an explosion and steam.

Poseidon falls forward, shrinking as each second passes.

The last thing Odysseus can see before the storms force him into the sea is Poseidon's empty gaze.

Gods can't be killed, Odysseus tells himself despite the tears that sting his eyes. I can't lose anyone else.

Odysseus smacks into the water and grimaces, a pulse of pain traveling through his core. Shaky hands hold onto the bag as it continues to push him deeper into the great below. He shifts around so the bag is no longer pressing against his stomach, and instead allows his upper body to control his movements.

Odysseus descends.

A familiar sight catches his eye as a creature slips up beside him. The animal, a hippocampus Poseidon had taught him, presses into his side and guides him down to his destination.

The marbled palace comes into view in no time with the creature’s assistance, directing him straight to one of the many entrances. Odysseus releases the depleted bag and holds onto the hippocampus’ neck, putting his trust in Poseidon's creation to bring him the rest of the way. It gallops underwater with ease, nudging Odysseus up into the main pool of the palace in no time. Odysseus grabs onto the rim and lifts himself up, giving the creature a quick pat on the head before standing.

Servants run to him, offering him a change of clothing which he gratefully accepts as he's hit with an intense chill.

“Poseidon is still—” Odysseus begins, but he's cut off when the palace rumbles, causing a few servants to trip onto the hard floor.

Everything stills as everyone freezes in place to listen.

Odysseus is the first to notice the way the air shifts.

“Run!” He shouts as a flash of bright light darts past him, knocking him down into a kneel.

“Thought you could hide again?” A voice flows through the palace, and Odysseus has to remind himself to breathe. “There's nowhere to go, little king.”

Zeus floats above the ground, back to his more human size, and peers down at Odysseus with a wide grin. One of his eyes is still closed as ichor leaves a path down his cheek.

“I found you.”

Chapter 13: Run

Summary:

“Wouldn't you like to play a game first?” Odysseus says.

“No, I've already won.” Zeus replies fast, the single claw on Odysseus’ cheek traveling to the collar of his chiton.

Notes:

Early thank you for the nearly 800 Kudos!

End notes has spoiler art (so read the chapter first—)

Zeus’ feet touch the ground as he saunters over, movement slow and carefree.

“Come now, Odysseus, did you think you could return to your old life after everything you've done? You thought you could stab me with my brother's weapon and I would just let it go?” Zeus crouches in front of him, and Odysseus can feel his overbearing presence locking up his muscles.

“Although,” A claw reaches out and touches his cheek, easily puncturing his flesh as Zeus trails his finger down. Odysseus hisses in pain. “Now that I have you, what's the rush?”

Odysseus gasps as a weight knocks him back, pinning him down flat on the cold palace floor. Zeus holds Odysseus’ chest down with one hand, a sinister desire lighting up his eyes. The god leans down and, mouth practically pressed to his ear, breathes heavily onto him.

“You could still beg me,” Zeus whispers, and it sends a shiver through him like pointed rocks on a cave wall. A hand too gentle to be sincere brushes his cheek and Odysseus closes his eyes, gritting his teeth at the unwanted contact. “If you beg, I'll consider whisking you away to bed you. You'll be punished, but I won't kill you. I'll let you return home to that boy of yours, and all you need to do is be readily available for my desire all day until your body can no longer handle it.”

Odysseus inhales slowly, vacant blue staring at him in the darkness, and he opens his eyes to look at Zeus with a sultry gaze.

“My Lord,” he breathes and Zeus grins. A finger directs him to look at the god fully and he swallows thickly, trying not to succumb to the onslaught of screams in his head, yelling louder than he's ever heard them. Usually distinguishable, the current amalgamation of voices blend together as they rattle his skull.

“Wouldn't you like to play a game first?” Odysseus says.

“No, I've already won.” Zeus replies fast, the single claw on Odysseus’ cheek traveling to the collar of his chiton.

“But I deserve to feel like prey in your presence, as punishment.” Odysseus tries not to bite at the finger threatening to rip his clothes away. His eyes flutter and he leans in, lips barely pressed to the god’s. “Don't you want me to run in fear and then submit to you? Make me pay for staining my face with your mark without your permission.”

Odysseus sees the god tremble and he fights a smirk.

He continues, “Your brother only had me because I was a sad hopeless man, but you? You could catch me and show me off to everyone.”

“Catch you and treat you like the pesky rabbit that you are? I do like playing with my food.” The weight lifts from his body and Odysseus carefully sighs in relief.

Now comes the hard part.

Odysseus stands, silently berating his legs as they shake underneath Zeus’ stare.

“The chase continues until you catch me,” Odysseus forces the words out, muscles contracting and relaxing as his body fights to regain control. “No flying, or the game won't be,” he grits his teeth, “satisfying for you. I am only a weak old mortal.”

“When I catch you, your body better be ready. I won't be able to hold myself back any longer.” Zeus plants his feet on the floor and shifts his weight onto one side. “Start running, little rabbit.”

They keep each other's gaze for a moment, and Odysseus has the nauseating realization that Zeus isn't a statue that needs to be chipped away at. No, he only says what he means, and he takes pleasure in knowing his words can be as honest as he wants. He fully believes he's in control.

Odysseus turns and, leaning forward, sprints down the labyrinth of hallways.

He passes by the room of sea treasures and turns the corner, momentum stopping for only a moment before he strides down another corridor. He's on high alert as he enters a large room, a bed of algae and seaweed tickling his feet as he runs by.

A door on the other side opens into a parallel room filled with servants, and it makes him hesitate. He has the palace memorized, but he does not expect to see others. They cling to each other and tremble as they look up at him with wide eyes.

That's when he hears the sound of something breaking behind him, stopping him in his place. He turns his head just as the marble surrounding the previous space crumbles, crushing the nature below with a squelching noise. Zeus steps through the debris, horns on full display as he shakes his head, shedding the dust that got caught in his hair. He steps forward and Odysseus’ fingers twitch, a voice inside his head rushing to the forefront of his mind to yell at him.

Zeus reaches out, and just as fingers creep close to his back, a chorus of screams fill the room. At first Odysseus is sure his mind overloaded, but then he sees servants pouncing forward, launching themselves at the god despite the way they shake and tear up in fear.

“Are you serious?” Zeus pauses, now focused on ripping the bodies off of him. Several servants are thrown at the wall then fall limp, and Odysseus can feel a darkness from deep within creep around his heart.

“Come on!” A voice snaps him out of his thoughts as Pelagios grabs his arm, guiding him towards an exit. Shaking away the remnants of a monster, Odysseus begins to run again, fists clenched as howls of pain grow distant. He hears Zeus scream and the palace trembles under his wrath.

“Why?” Odysseus chokes out.

“You're our prized guest,” Pelagios smiles at him as they sprint down a hallway, “and you're our friend!”

Odysseus feels a familiar warmth spread within him. He thinks about being on a ship laughing with his men, encouraging words spreading around even as they begin to lower in numbers. He remembers Circe’s passionate mercy, Athena and Hermes’ defiant friendship, Poseidon's adoring gaze, and Telemachus’ infant smile. He has to live for them.

A metallic smell fills his senses and he pulls Pelagios around a corner as a bolt of lightning flies past them.

“No one can save you, Odysseus!” Zeus roars beyond a wall before said partition is smashed through. Marble tumbles down and Odysseus and Pelagios watch as the god appears, reaching for them in an intense lunge. Odysseus shifts his weight and pushes Pelagios, forcing both of them to roll out the way. Zeus grabs nothing as he fails to come to a stop, not as agile on his feet than in the air.

Odysseus stands quickly, pulling Pelagios up as they prepare to keep running. He tugs on the young man, but he doesn't move. Odysseus turns to look at him, only for his heart to sink.

“Haven't you realized it yet?” Zeus grins as he holds onto Pelagios’ other arm, an electrical surge releasing from his hand like a whip. “You only bring death to everyone around you.”

Odysseus pulls with all his might as Zeus’ hand raises in the air, preparing to lash out.

“No! He has nothing to do with this!” Odysseus shouts. “Please, don't do this!” He catches Pelagios' gaze and his throat tightens.

Time feels like it slows down as Pelagios smiles at him, “Thank you for treating me with respect.” He pushes Odysseus away as Zeus brings his hand down.

“Now think about your— ” Zeus’ hand freezes and the lightning disperses as something sharp narrowly misses his head and pierces the wall. An unmistakable shine catches their attention and Odysseus’ breath hitches.

A trident sticks out of the wall. It rattles and then removes itself, floating backwards. Water rushes forward and covers Pelagios, ripping him away from Zeus’ grasp.

“Don't touch my servants.” Someone says, and when Odysseus turns to look, his heart soars into his mouth.

Poseidon stands, using a nearby wall to keep himself up as he struggles with every step forward. His skin is seared raw in multiple places, covered in gold blisters and bruises. His trident manifests back into his hand and he points at Odysseus. “I will not last long, you have to move! Survive!”

Odysseus steels himself and wills his legs to move, rushing past the god of the seas, past the man who his heart now sings for, and into the labyrinth once more.

“I'm going to turn you into a flea, brother.” Zeus growls. Odysseus hears a collision behind him but he knows he can't stop, not anymore. Even if each step makes him grimace in pain, the moment he stops Zeus will provide him with ten times the torture.

Odysseus ends up in the same room Polyphemus usually hangs out, but thankfully the cyclops is nowhere to be found. He takes a sharp turn and he lets adrenaline carry him back into the main hallway. He circles around the large pool just as the sound of heavy footsteps resonates behind him. He doesn't stop running, though he does glance over his shoulder.

Zeus runs at him, hunched forward on his hands and feet like a feral beast. He pounces over the main pool the moment Odysseus pushes through the doors into the next room. He dashes to the side and Zeus flies past him, sliding on the floor as his claws scratch the ground with an ear piercing shriek. Servants and nymphs alike scream as he enters, most of them backing up against a wall to avoid the wrath of the god.

“Odysseus,” Zeus enunciates each syllable like a curse. “Come here, little rabbit. You can only hop so far.”

Odysseus’ mind races as he stares down the god standing in front of him.

He runs at him.

Dropping low at the last possible moment, Zeus’ fingers touching his hair, Odysseus slides between his legs. He rushes ahead the moment he's clear.

“Run all you want, you're just increasing my appetite,” Zeus snorts behind him, once again chasing after him at a pace Odysseus knows he cannot outrun.

All at once, the pools leading outside of the palace come to life as he runs past them. Water bubbles up and when he looks behind him, he can see a dolphin jump out of the pool and smack Zeus across the face with its tail. Zeus smacks it away with a disgruntled noise, but this action causes the rest of the pools to erupt with a furious gurgling noise.

A hippocampus pushes itself up into the room and gallops at the god, using its tail for purchase as it kicks forward with its hooves. An army of fish leap out and splash against Zeus’ bad eye, causing him to take a step back alongside the pressure of being pushed.

Zeus snarls loudly and releases an electrical current that courses through his body and knocks all the animals into a wall. “Enough!”

Odysseus, who never stopped running, throws himself at the doors to his bedroom and rushes to the furthest corner, behind the seat he and Poseidon would share on lazy afternoons.

“Oh, you made me chase you into the bedroom?” Zeus purrs as he strolls inside, leaving the doors open in a confident display. “You really are eager to become mine.”

Odysseus swallows thickly as he faces him slowly, brows pinched together.

“You're trapped.” Zeus states as he closes the space between them.

“The chase isn't over, my Lord. Come at me with everything you've got. Show me how badly you want me.” Odysseus grins at him.

“Gladly,” Zeus matches his grin, lowering himself to the ground before charging at him like an untamed bull.

Twisting his foot, Odysseus rolls out of the way at the last second. Zeus smacks straight into the sea glass wall. A warning crack pierces the air, and then it shatters from the force.

The sea pours in to claim the palace, knocking both Odysseus and Zeus back. Both of them are at the mercy of the ocean as they get sent back into the previous room. Odysseus tries to grab onto the door, but his fingers slip across the marble.

He spins around out of his control as the palace’s divine barrier succumbs to the depths. When he finally gets a chance to look around without risking dizzying himself, he spots Zeus spread out across the doorway to the next room. Two muscular arms hold onto the door and soon he is floating above the incoming water. He smiles at Odysseus as the mortal draws near out of his control.

Odysseus forces his arms to move against the incoming water to no avail, moving closer and closer to the god without his permission. He takes a deep breath, his mind racing as Poseidon's words ring in his head.

Holding his breath, he dives down.

His arms work overtime as he wills himself to go lower, hands reaching forward once he's near the palace floors. He grabs onto the rim of a pool and forces himself through it. The gushing flow of water becomes still as he exits the structure, swimming forward onto the ocean floor.

With every tinge of salt that stings his eyes he's reminded of his adventures with Poseidon, and he repeats the same motions they shared as they traveled through the sea together. Though Poseidon isn't there, he can still feel his hands on his waist guiding him through the darkness.

Trust your body, not the disorder in your mind.

The water shifts behind him and he doesn't have to look to know Zeus will chase him even into the great below.

Odysseus smiles.

When lightning strikes the sea it normally spreads out across the surface and the only beings in danger are any living thing near the top. Anyone in a certain radius is sure to get shocked, but most living creatures below a certain line are unaffected.

If lightning were to somehow originate from a point in the middle of the ocean where the salt content is at its highest though?

The user would do more harm to themselves than anyone else.

Odysseus bumps into a rock as he swims, eyes widening a fraction as he trails a hand along it, feeling what he cannot see. It's a dead end.

He turns around and sees Zeus’ glowing eyes in the distance, trying to lure him in like an angler fish. He closes the space between them quickly, slowing down as he assesses that Odysseus is trapped against a wall. He grins, floating in the water as he savors the moment, eyes looking Odysseus up and down like he's a piece of meat to a wolf.

Zeus reaches forward, claws bared as he reaches for Odysseus’ neck.

Odysseus closes his eyes and spreads his arms out, palms upturned as he surrenders. Poseidon's voice clears his thoughts even as his chest begins to ache from the lack of air.

Odysseus prays.

My dearest Poseidon, I need the assistance of your domain. I give myself to the seas, and I await its judgement. Let me witness the horrific beauty that you tried to make me understand through words. Let me see it, and let me embrace it.

Take me, mysterious depths.

There is movement in the water.

He opens his eyes and sees Zeus’ fingers in front of his face, so close that any shift of his mouth would brush against one of his claws. Zeus does not budge as something brushes past them from above.

Their eyes meet, and then the god is violently pulled away by an enormous appendage around his waist.

A colossal shadow of a figure dominates the ocean as it coils around the god, slithering around his arms and legs. Zeus tries to grow in size but the beast constricts, squeezing him so tightly that the god opens his mouth in silent agony.

A single eye with fire in its gaze opens and Odysseus almost gasps. It stares at him, studying him for a long moment even as it engulfs its divine victim. Dark tendrils shoot out of its body, aiming at Odysseus like a spray of arrows.

Odysseus holds his stance, lifting his head up in submission— no, something more: Enthusiasm.

He is thrilled.

A trickle of blood meets the depths as a tendril prods his neck. It goes no further. The deep sea monster grins, a wicked maddening curve around rows and rows of oddly human-esque teeth as the appendages retreat from him, instead twisting to stab into the god’s shoulders. Odysseus cannot hear Zeus scream, but he can feel his bellow through an intense vibration that sends him backwards into the wall.

The monster blinks and in an instant one eye becomes several, spreading throughout its body like a wave as they all begin to open, glowing with the same heated appearance. Once they are all open, pupils contracting and dilating as they focus on the god in its grasp, they arch upwards in crescent shaped glee.

Thin translucent tendrils wriggle around its body before tangling around the god in a mocking dance. The moment the tendrils poke and prod at the god, Odysseus can see him jolt in pain.

Zeus flails wildly, muscles bulging as he grows more and more desperate. With every attempt the scaly body holding him hostage tightens even further. Odysseus cannot hear the god’s bones breaking, but he can imagine it. He knows with every silent scream comes the breaking of bones, only for those bones to heal wrong with divine recovery, and then shatter again under the pressure of the imposing horror.

As Odysseus’ vision begins to fade, chest feeling like it's going to burst, he can see Zeus’ body light up. A vicious unnatural force explodes from the being, electrifying everything in his radius as the remaining water boils.

A shadow covers him before he's eviscerated to ash. He feels his body get carried away as his vision blurs. Soft lips press against his and he opens his mouth immediately, Poseidon giving him the air he needs as they embrace.

Poseidon hugs him tightly, and he rests his head on his shoulder, gazing back at the destruction they are leaving behind.

Dozens of eyes like a distant sunset dance around a motionless Zeus, his head hung low and his fight entirely gone.

Gods do not die, but they can feel pain.

Odysseus’ hands ball into fists as his body trembles.

Let the god of the skies feel a fraction of the anguish he went through, of the heartbreak still fresh in his very being. He can exist knowing a taste of the chaos in Odysseus' mind.

Poseidon carries him to the islet and with still hazy vision, he spots two figures waiting for him.

“Odysseus!” Athena calls out.

“Still alive, darling?” Hermes grins.

Poseidon lowers him onto the sand and he lays flat, his body exhausted from running and swimming. He stares up at the sky as gray clouds disperse. One by one a god fills his vision as the three of them gauge his reaction.

“Is he okay?” Hermes floats around in circles, and Odysseus’ head spins.

“Please stop that,” Odysseus looks away.

A hand cups his cheek and he leans into it, gazing into Poseidon's eyes.

“You did it,” Poseidon closes the distance between them and presses their lips together in a soft kiss.

“Our father won't bother you again, Odysseus. You've proven to him, to all of us, that you are not to be taken lightly.” Athena crouches down, smiling at him. “Our family was sure to be watching.”

“Oh he's going to be furious once he escapes,” Hermes’ peeks over the islet as if he can see the scene beneath the waves. “I think I'm going to take some time away, maybe visit that prophet in the Underworld. He'll be mighty sad knowing how wrong he was.

“Although technically, I guess you did prepare to draw your final breath when Donnie—”

“Don't call me that.”

“When Poseidon grabbed you. You're also alive, so that's all well and happy. Do you still feel yourself? I need to get the details straight if I want to poke fun at him properly.”

“Hermes, be quiet.” Athena grabs his lips between her fingers. “He's been through enough without you rotting his mind with your babbling.”

“Oh, you're no fun.” Hermes crosses his arms over his chest and pouts as he floats away.

Odysseus sighs heavily, the weight of over twenty years of responsibility finally lifting from his shoulders.

He turns to Poseidon.

“My boy,” he breathes. “Please take me to my son.”

Notes:

 

I made a Zeus design just to bully him for you all to see (half joking).

Did you guys catch all the references to earlier chapters?

The next chapter is a monster so prepare for a bit of a wait for it! It'll also have a gift attached that is almost done. <3 Thanks so much for the ongoing support!

Chapter 14: Clear Skies

Summary:

“Come here,” he whispers, and Poseidon is next to him in seconds, laying on his side.

“How do you feel?” Poseidon asks as he rests a hand over Odysseus’ stomach.

“A little lighter. I know this pain will never leave, but knowing there are others to share it with is comforting.”

Notes:

Firstly, thank you all for your support, including 900 kudos! Even More Silly Art

Secondly, this is the finale before the Epilogue. If you've made it this far, thank you so so so much. Your endless support is what kept me writing.

Third, there wasn't supposed to be NSFW in this chapter, I'm not sure what happened-

Both Athena and Hermes bid Odysseus farewell with promises of visiting him again another day.

Poseidon carries Odysseus in his arms the entire trip. He uses the sea to travel, grimacing at every sharp turn he makes. Odysseus uses this time to softly kiss every wound on him, every mark that will scar until his body is ready to heal fully. Every press of his lips sends another wave of grief through him, a reminder of the things he can no longer do with his wife, but Poseidon holds him close the entire time. The god rubs tiny circles into his back with each sob and wail. He keeps Odysseus stitched together in a way only he can.

The moment Odysseus sees the distinct shore of his home, he crumbles again, memories of what feel like a lifetime ago hitting him all at once. The waves carry Poseidon to the beach, and there he decides to rest while Odysseus collects himself. Their bodies are hugged by sand in a small area, hidden away thanks to outstretched cliffs.

Eventually, Odysseus is able to breathe a little better, even as his body groans with discomfort in more ways than one. He is past exhaustion, and yet his mind is as awake as it has ever been. He turns to Poseidon, his unruly hair curling over his eyes, and he reaches for the god. Poseidon is quick to react, closing the distance as their mouths meet. Several kisses later, a promise, and then they're pulling apart.

“I'm ready,” Odysseus murmurs, and they both bring themselves to their feet.

Ithaca is bathed in warm colors as Poseidon carries Odysseus up to a castle he thought he'd never see again. The sun hangs low when he touches ground, Poseidon putting him down to do the rest.

“I will give you time alone,” the god says, squeezing his hands before taking a step back.

Odysseus nods, watching their hands slowly and reluctantly let go of each other.

He hears a snap of fingers and soon his chiton is completely dry. He smiles at the other knowingly before making his way onto castle ground.

A guard spots him first, raising his sword until dropping it entirely when Odysseus catches his gaze. He's met with wide eyes like he's seeing a spirit, and to be fair, Odysseus feels like one.

“The king—” The guard breathes before shouting. “Our prior king!”

What follows is a mess of bodies running in and out of the castle, rushing to his aid, or watching from afar as a crowd quickly gathers around. Several men come to check on his health, and in the midst of chaos he spots a woman in the distance.

He is unsure what makes her so noticeable, her dark brown wavy curls and curious green eyes looking straight at him, but there's something about her that pulls him forward. He opens his mouth to say something, but then her eyes rip away as another figure steps outside.

“Father?” A voice calls out, and Odysseus’ chest tightens as he turns around.

A young man with dark hair stands in front of him, back straightened with a weight of responsibility, and soft blue eyes that he recognizes all too achingly well.

“Telemachus,” he breathes, reaching a hand out.

Telemachus breaks first, tears swelling in his eyes as he stares at the man before him. They run at each other, and Odysseus pulls him into a tight embrace as they both wail, their griefs calling to each other in a way only family can.

“My son!” Odysseus sobs, cradling the back of his head like he can still feel the weight of his infant body. They hold each other long into the night, and even when they finally enter the castle, they stay right by each other's side.

When Odysseus reaches a bedroom that seems far too empty now, his son is there to help him stay upright.

If Telemachus had any doubts of his father's love for his mother after all these years, the way Odysseus clings to him and bawls out her name like a prayer reassures him quickly.

They spend the night together talking, and Odysseus notices a silver glint in Telemachus’ eyes whenever they speak about the way their lives have been touched and affected by the gods. Thankfully, Athena seems to have been a good influence on him, and with the way she acted towards him, Telemachus has had a good impact on her too.

The topic of king is brought up, and Telemachus practically begs him to take the throne once more.

“These past months have been brutal, I'll be the first to admit. The people of Ithaca are kind to me, but I do not know how to rule properly yet. I still have so much I want to see and do.” He blurts, and Odysseus chuckles. They agree that his time as king can continue in the future.

The two of them speak until the sun peeks through the balcony and hugs the room in the promise of a new day.

“Rest father, you look like you will collapse at any moment.” Telemachus squeezes his hand before leaving.

Odysseus does not argue, his adrenaline having left hours ago and his body feeling beyond sluggish. He practically collapses onto the bed, his heart still aching in a way he knows will never truly go away.

He closes his eyes until a weight on the bed startles him. He sits up, but a large arm lowers him back down as Poseidon catches his gaze.

“It's only me,” he whispers, bringing Odysseus close into his arms. His body is now free of ichor, though gold still marks him with scars. “Rest, we will speak later.”

Odysseus lays next to him, close enough that he can smell the salty sea with each inhale. It's comforting, familiar. He drifts off quickly.

He dreams of Penelope, of her death that he was not even there for, but that he can envision far too vividly.

It's soft kisses to his forehead that wake him up, his sobs filling the otherwise silent afternoon. Poseidon holds him, and Odysseus can't help but wonder if this is the pain Poseidon fears when he's gone. They hold each other closely as the sound of the sea hits the shoreline with a comforting rhythm.

Someone knocks on the door, and Poseidon moves, squeezing Odysseus’ hand before retreating to the balcony and disappearing into droplets. Telemachus walks in, eyes immediately drawn to the messy sheets next to Odysseus.

Odysseus cracks a smile at the way his son’s mind races, knowing he won't be able to hide anything from him so long as a certain goddess hovers over the both of them.

“Father, was someone…?”

“I'll tell you soon, I promise.” Odysseus says sincerely.

Telemachus nods, eyes drifting to the balcony before he stops thinking. “There is someone I want you to meet.”

“Of course,” Odysseus moves to the edge of the bed as Telemachus backs away.

A moment passes, and then Telemachus is walking back in with a woman. Her green eyes look at him, and Odysseus tilts his head.

“It's you,” he says, “I saw you yesterday.”

“You did, my Lord. My name is Callias.” She says, and Odysseus stands up immediately.

He reaches for her, mouth parted. “You are the one that kept my wife company in her final days?”

“I am,” she replies, and Odysseus can see her eyes quickly swell with tears. “She was incredible.”

“She was,” Odysseus’ bottom lip quivers, and then they are both collapsing into each other's arms. “Thank you for being there for her.”

“She was a marvel,” Callias breathes, smiling even as tears overflow down her cheeks.

“I know,” Odysseus smiles too, caressing the back of her head to hold her close. They stay that way for some time, sharing stories about the woman they both loved.

“She loved you until the end,” Callias says after they both take a seat on the bed, still holding each other's hands for comfort.

“I love her too,” Odysseus sighs. “She had a big heart. She certainly loved you too.”

Callias ducks her head as a blush dusts her cheeks, “I like to think so. I hope that does not upset you.”

“Not at all,” he squeezes her hand. “I am relieved she found someone else to adore before she passed.” They smile at each other again, and they both know the other means every word.

Odysseus and Callias talk until the moon hovers above. Though Penelope is gone, her presence in the room is apparent in every laugh and sob that graces the night.

They make arrangements for Callias to stay in the castle, and if anyone asks, she is a mentor for Telemachus. No one needs to know the full truth if neither of them are ready to share it.

Once Telemachus and Callias leave, a heavy presence announces itself from the corner of the room. Odysseus chuckles, his eyes puffy from crying, and he sprawls back onto the bed.

“Come here,” he whispers, and Poseidon is next to him in seconds, laying on his side.

“How do you feel?” Poseidon asks as he rests a hand over Odysseus’ stomach.

“A little lighter. I know this pain will never leave, but knowing there are others to share it with is comforting.”

They fall quiet then, and Odysseus uses this time to get closer to the other. The god lets him roll him onto his back, and Odysseus rests his head flat on his chest, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“Odysseus,” Poseidon says, voice low. Odysseus can feel his heart thudding against his chest faster, harder.

“Yes?”

“I apologize.”

Odysseus closes his eyes, listening to the beating grow ever rapid.

“I know,” he admits. “I've known for a while. I could feel it in every kiss, every hug, and all the time you spent making me smile.”

Two arms wrap around him and he immerses himself in the embrace that follows.

“I forgive you,” Odysseus whispers, and as he feels Poseidon's shoulders shake with emotion, he doesn't say anything more.

When the sun rises the next day, he still has two arms around him as Poseidon nuzzles deep into his neck in his slumber. Odysseus doesn't move for some time, enjoying the moment before it passes. He knows the day ahead is going to be a tough one. It's not long before Poseidon shifts behind him, a small noise escaping him as he sinks further into Odysseus’ neck.

“You're awake,” Odysseus hums, and Poseidon nips at his collarbone. He huffs, letting the god lick at the small trickle of blood that follows.

He twists around in Poseidon's hold and leans forward, pressing a kiss to previously seared skin. Poseidon gasps, an obvious shiver overtaking him.

“Does it hurt?” Odysseus murmurs against his skin.

“Yes,” Poseidon answers quickly, honestly.

Odysseus spends the rest of the morning pressing his lips to every scar he can see, each branch of lightning that proves the god has changed. The man he showers with kisses now is not the same man he encountered years ago. Ruthlessness has subsided, giving way to—

“I love you,” Poseidon whispers, and it's barely audible. Odysseus looks up and spots his eyes wide open, as if he did not mean to let the words slip.

Odysseus stares at him, tracing every line of his expression. His fins are spread out symmetrically, blue eyes bright and vulnerable, and his cheeks painted gold.

“I love you too,” Odysseus says, and they both laugh as they lean in, capturing each other in an elated kiss.

A knock on the door disrupts them a few moments later, as Poseidon is feasting on Odysseus’ neck with light bites. They both sigh, but they know there is much to do still.

Odysseus soothes out his chiton, trying to cover up the marks as he walks to the door. He's not very successful.

Telemachus greets him on the other side, and the moment the door is open, the boy is standing straighter. He reaches for his weapon, a silver glint in his eyes, but Odysseus grabs his hand.

“Come, I will tell you now. Trust me though, we are safe. Ithaca is as safe as it will ever be.” Odysseus reassures him, and Telemachus hesitates but slowly sheaths his sword.

Odysseus tries to explain that Poseidon is to him what Athena is to Telemachus, but his son quickly eyes the mark on his neck and raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure that's all you are?”

Odysseus feels like he's dying from the amount of blood that rushes to his head. He can't see him, but Poseidon's presence is nearby, and he knows the god is smirking.

“Come, there is still much to do,” Odysseus says, standing abruptly from the table they were speaking at. Telemachus snorts but follows.

The rest of the day is filled with meeting the wives and families of all the men he did not return with. It's a cruel process, and Odysseus feels like he's going insane by the end of it, his mind barely keeping itself together with the amount of names he has to go through the loss of all over again.

None of it compares to his sister breaking down in his arms and knowing there's nothing he can say or do to make things better. Ctimene got her brother back, but lost her husband — her entire world.

They hold each other and spill their grief, even as the screams in the back of his head remind him they'll always be there, lurking.

He has forgiven Poseidon, but everyone else has no reason to. He does not share the full story to everyone, only Telemachus and Callias. Instead, he spends the next few days ensuring all the people of Ithaca are aware that they are under Poseidon's blessing for as long as Odysseus, and Telemachus, live.

In truth, it's an unveiled threat to anyone who may still be considering trying to overtake the throne. If anyone so much as thinks about killing the king or prince, Poseidon will be sure to eradicate them from existence. It would be a slow, painful, and agonizing death.

All the remaining families and wives of men long gone gather together with Odysseus one day with their finest treasures. A cenotaph is built, and items are offered to the monument in hopes the spirits can feast and know they are not forgotten even while they are in the Underworld. Odysseus hopes they get one moment of clarity amongst their aimless wandering.

Poseidon reassures him that they will. The god does not offer anything, but Odysseus knows from the way he hides his gaze that he is fighting his own internal battle. Guilt is not as easy for someone like him, but the world would be blind not to see he's trying.

Over the next few weeks, Ithaca prospers in a way it never has. From hearty meals given by the sea, to everyone gaining respect for one another. Word spreads quickly, probably thanks to a certain messenger god that can't keep his mouth shut.

When he's not dealing with the responsibilities of being a king, Odysseus begins preparing a new room. It's not far from his previous one, identical in every way except for the bed. Every time Poseidon slips away to deal with people summoning him, or visits family, Odysseus puts all his effort into making a new place for their comfort.

He does not have the materials from a divine palace, but he does his best to make a bed that looks identical to the one he and Poseidon share during their time together in his domain. He scours the beach for noticeable objects, and ends up with many different shells. He also has to wrestle a crab for his finger back.

By the time he's happy with the new bedroom, Telemachus has given him enough suspicious looks for a lifetime. His son is relentless in his teasing, and though Odysseus acts flustered and bothered, it brings him an indescribable joy. This is what he's been missing.

It takes Poseidon no time leaving marks all over him once he sees the bedroom. The god has a strange way of showing appreciation.

“Are we going to talk about you two?” Telemachus corners him one day, peering over his shoulder. His son is indeed taller than him, but he does not mind.

“We talked,” Odysseus looks away.

“Father, you spend each day with the god of the seas. I know he waits for you each night, and I can see the way your eyes light up whenever he's mentioned.” Telemachus continues, matching his pace as they hurry down a hallway to the throne room. He stops before they enter, and Odysseus pauses as well. “I'm not mad, if that is your concern.”

Odysseus turns around to face him, a frown he was trying to hide becoming prominent. “I loved your mother. I still do.”

“I know. I'm not a young boy anymore. Just talk to me. I—” Telemachus shrinks into himself, and Odysseus thinks he looks so much younger. “I want to know about you. I was worried we would meet and, after learning about mother’s passing, you would be a cruel and hollow man. You're not though. You have life in you, and I'm grateful.”

In mere seconds Odysseus crosses the space between them and pulls Telemachus into a hug. “I'm sorry. I did not realize I was distancing you by keeping secrets.”

Telemachus returns the embrace, squeezing him closely as they quietly enjoy the moment.

Eventually, Odysseus pulls away and takes a deep breath. “Poseidon and I are together. W-we are lovers. Maybe something more, it is hard to tell with the gods.”

“Wow,” Telemachus’ brows shoot up. “That's kind of scary, I'll admit.”

“He can be scary,” Odysseus flicks away a memory trying to resurface in his mind. “However, more than that, he has grown a lot with me. He cares for me, which means he will grow to care for you too.”

“Should I sacrifice our finest cow, or something?”

“There is no need. Well,” Odysseus looks up in thought, “actually I did not consider that. Perhaps. I'll ask him.”

Telemachus smiles, eyes shifting as he looks Odysseus’ face up and down. “Thank you for telling me. I'm glad he makes you happy. We should all talk together soon.”

Odysseus nods, “I would like that.” He tilts his head then as a thought appears. “Has anyone caught your eye?”

Telemachus immediately trills his lips, holding his hands up like Odysseus just aimed an arrow at him. “Who, me? Not at all!”

Odysseus chuckles, “Just wondering. I would be happy to meet any woman, or man, you bring home. Or, if you bring no one home, that is fine too.”

“I mean, I just haven't had the time to talk to anyone.” Telemachus’ arms drop to his side. “I don't suppose Poseidon knows anyone around my age?”

With a hum, Odysseus thinks of a polite smile and a brush soothing his hair. “Now that you mention it, he may.”

“Wait, I was not serious. Do not tell him I said that—”

“We should hurry to our duties for the day.”

“Father! Promise me you won't embarrass me in front of the god of the seas!”

“I cannot hear you, my boy; I am old. You must speak up.” Odysseus stifles his laughter as Telemachus runs after him.

It takes time, but with each passing day, the people of Ithaca learn to accept Poseidon's constant presence. Odysseus imagines the benefit of bountiful fishing hauls or knowing not many mortals nor god dare anger him helps. Sometimes clouds will roll over like a watchful eye, but on days like that Poseidon stands straighter, and the clouds roll by a little faster. Poseidon gets many offerings as well. He tries to act nonchalant about it, but each time his fins perk up when someone prays to him, Odysseus knows he enjoys it.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Poseidon says one night as the moon lingers above with a watchful eye.

“You're going to have to be more specific,” Odysseus chuckles as he begins to undress himself for the night. He leaves his cloak and chiton on a nearby stool and waltzes over to the god of the seas sitting on the edge of the bed, his chin to his chest in thought.

“This,” Poseidon says, hands immediately grabbing Odysseus’ waist and pulling the king onto his lap. Odysseus adjusts so his knees are on either side of the god, wrapping his arms around his neck. “The god who ruined you, casually spending time in your bedroom.”

“Poseidon,” Odysseus’ voice lowers darkly. “Are you questioning my desire?” The body below him arches up slightly and he smirks, pressing a kiss to the other's jaw.

“Odysseus,” Poseidon breathes, “I'm serious. You won't live forever; are you certain you want the rest of your days to be spent with me?”

“I spent all day with my people, from sunrise to sunset, discussing serious matters. Then I finally return to my bedroom where I have you waiting and I'm ready to relax, and you speak of more serious things.” He pulls away, half-lidded eyes looking up as he considers his next action. “Fine, let's be serious then.”

He rises up as he retreats, planting his feet on the floor as he backs away to the other side of the room.

“I am not the same man I was twenty-one years ago. Nor am I the same man I was ten, or even one year ago. I don't want to be that man anymore; no one is left of the past but the gods.” Odysseus turns away, fists clenched at his side. “I've been humbled and broken time after time, and I only seek to relax now. I've been haunted enough. I want new memories to reminisce about when the day comes and my spirit fades from my body. I will not go out in a sea of screams.”

He snaps his head around and sees Poseidon gazing at the floor. Odysseus is much shorter than him, but in that moment, the god looks impossibly small.

Odysseus shouts, “I want to see my son’s progress as a warrior and as the king that comes after me. I want to be held when the past inevitably tries to suffocate me. Above all, I want to spend the rest of my days with you! You stubborn, prideful, confused, incredible, beautiful mess of a god.

“I know what you've done, I was there for it! I'm tired of wanting and—”

Waiting, waiting…

“So if I need to show you just how much I want this, so be it. I suppose neither of us are sleeping tonight.” Odysseus rolls his shoulders back before approaching.

Poseidon is already leaning back on his elbows, face flushed gold and breathing heavily as he watches the mortal approach. He cannot hide his arousal at full mast below the fabric that covers it, and Odysseus considers teasing him about it. He decides not to, knowing he has a very serious lesson he needs to teach the other about doubting his adoration.

“Move up,” Odysseus commands and Poseidon listens, dragging himself up the bed, eagerly unclipping the shell holding his garments together once he's laid back. Odysseus crawls in after him, hovering over the god as he stares down at him.

“Keep your eyes on me, and don't look away for a moment, understand?” He says, voice gruff.

Poseidon opens his mouth, probably prepared to retort to not being in charge, but when he catches Odysseus’ gaze he quickly closes it. He nods once.

What Poseidon gets in return is hands digging into his chest and his muscles, strong calloused hands kneading his skin as Odysseus provides him with a deep tissue massage. Odysseus watches the god melt quickly, relaxing into the touch, into his silent praise. He travels down, pressing his thumbs into enticing hips and the body below him sighs, fully relaxed.

Once the god is pudding under his touch, he brings a few of his fingers to his mouth and starts to wet them, tongue swirling around each one in a way that makes Poseidon's hips jolt. They keep eye contact the entire time, Odysseus licking until his fingers are dripping wet. He lowers his hand, circling and teasing the god’s entrance as he watches Poseidon's chest heat up, the ichor within him rushing throughout his body.

“You don't need to—” Poseidon is cut off as a finger enters him, his words turning into a light gasp.

“I know,” Odysseus says, using his free hand to continue rubbing circles into Poseidon's thigh. He leans down, pressing a kiss to toned thighs while he inserts his second finger. Poseidon’s head tilts back and Odysseus immediately spreads his fingers a bit, causing the god to shiver and snap his head back up, unfocused eyes watching himself get treated like he's the fragile one between them.

Odysseus is slower to continue, enjoying the way the body beneath him begins to squirm. Poseidon’s arousal lays angrily flushed on his abdomen, untouched. When a third digit enters, Poseidon grunts, and Odysseus isn't sure if it's the stretch or his impatience. Regardless, he takes his time, feeling Poseidon's inner walls constrict and then ease with every exhale.

It takes every ounce of restraint for Poseidon not to voice his frustration, and Odysseus can see his brows knitting together as his breaths become ragged. He can't help but want him to speak, to say something and get caught off guard when Odysseus reminds him that tonight is more than just pleasure.

Eventually, when beads of sweat begin forming on the god’s chest as it rises and falls in an uneven pattern, Odysseus pulls his fingers out. Poseidon whines faintly, gritting his teeth together as he bites back his commentary.

Odysseus has mercy on him, lifting Poseidon by his waist, and adjusting them so both of his legs rest on Odysseus’ hips. Poseidon is much stronger than him, but the way he stares at him with blown out pupils revealing how badly he wants to be ravished by the mortal makes Odysseus feel unstoppable.

He guides his own momentarily abandoned cock to Poseidon's entrance and, making sure his eyes are still looking, quickly bottoms out inside the other. Poseidon’s body trembles and a breathless noise escapes him.

“Odysseus,” He breathes when he realizes the man isn't moving.

“I'm occupied.” Odysseus says, gaze daring him to keep talking.

“Occupied?”

“I'm savoring that look on your face before it changes.” Odysseus pulls out and then snaps his hips forward, causing Poseidon to tense up for a moment. He gives the god no time to register anything as he starts pounding into him with a relentless pace. He leans forward with each thrust, willing his way closer and closer until he has Poseidon bending into himself.

Odysseus ignores the fast approaching buzz building in his groin, ripping his hands away from muscular hips to hold onto the underside of Poseidon's legs, gripping his thighs as he ruthlessly strikes his prostate. Poseidon’s mouth parts open as a choir of moans leaves him, eyes shutting closed.

“Look at me,” Odysseus says, far huskier than he intends. “Let me see you.”

Poseidon listens, eyes fluttering open so Odysseus can admire the view. The god of the seas has upright fins, strands of hair sticking haphazardly to his forehead, and his skin is painted in a gold blush from his face to his leaking desire. His erection twitches when Odysseus glances at it, but he's not interested in ending their moment just yet.

“Please,” Poseidon pleads when Odysseus doesn't reach for him. Instead, tanned hands tighten around trembling thighs and Odysseus pushes himself further, his rhythm never pausing as he gives the god a piece of his mind. Poseidon keens, attempting to reach down to relieve himself, but Odysseus growls. He pauses, and Odysseus can see something dark flash across his gaze. Odysseus wonders if he considers taking control. He could.

He won't.

He won't do anything as Odysseus targets the small gland inside him that has him panting and begging with his eyes, has his teeth biting his bottom lip and causing ichor to dribble down his chin.

“Do you get it?” Odysseus pants, his muscles screaming in the effort it takes to keep the god bent over. “I want you. I want you so terribly much, Poseidon. I'm not letting anyone keep me from what I want ever again.”

“Odysseus—” Poseidon begins, but he's quickly distracted when Odysseus finally, mercifully, reaches down and grasps his painful arousal. His hips buck up, and the way he tightens around the mortal has both of them singing praise. After a moment he whines, “Odysseus, please!”

“You'll wake the entire castle,” Odysseus retorts quickly, a sense of power radiating through him as the god’s bottom lip quivers. His heart feels so light in his chest, so complete as he stares down at the other. The trust Poseidon gifts him, the equal desire between them, and the way his body responds with such urgent need. Odysseus is floating, he's alive, he's present — he's crying.

Overcome with an onslaught of emotion, Odysseus’ eyes blur with tears against his will. Surprised, but no less intoxicated by Poseidon's heat, he catches his gaze. Half-lidded hypnotic eyes stare back at him, his noises quieting as he searches Odysseus’ face.

“Damn,” Poseidon says, but his voice is wrecked and hoarse. “You're beautiful.”

This stirs something within Odysseus that has his pace faltering for a moment, hips snug against the other's marvelous body as he pauses to collect himself. He can see his tears fall onto the bronze skin below him, and he smiles.

He speaks, voice equally as gruff, “I love you.”

Poseidon tries to reply, mouth opening, but only an airless breath escapes him. He does not need to speak. Odysseus can see the adoration in his eyes.

Odysseus picks up his pace again, this time slower, more precise. He lets the overwhelming warmth in his chest guide his movements. He starts stroking Poseidon's leaking erection once again, this time putting all his effort into keeping his hand steady and fast.

It does not take long for Poseidon's body to tighten up, eyes still locked onto Odysseus, as his face contorts into one of pure bliss. His mouth hangs open in a silent moan as Odysseus continues the onslaught within him, the god’s release quickly spilling onto his abdomen and his chest.

He's a mess. He's perfect.

The tight walls around Odysseus’ arousal finally brings him over the edge, burying himself as deep as he can get as he lets himself go. A myriad of grunts and growls leave him as his nails dig into a bruised thigh.

“Oh gods,” he breathes, his muscles aching in the most satisfying way. He's dizzy as he pulls out, his arms giving in to Poseidon's weight and dropping his legs.

Poseidon's back arches and he groans, his body surely stiff from being pressed into himself. Odysseus knows he will heal soon.

Not quite done, Odysseus crawls over and lowers his head to the god’s abdomen.

“Don't you dare—” Poseidon bites his bottom lip as Odysseus licks up his mess, staring up at him as he swallows. Their eyes stay on each other as Odysseus cleans him up before getting closer. “You're going to regret that, I could go all night if I wanted to. I-I could fill you up until you're mindless.”

Odysseus hums, pressing his lips to the god’s chest, ignoring him. This isn't about sex; this is Odysseus showing him what he wants. He trails a line of kisses upwards, settling on Poseidon's neck before he opens his mouth. Odysseus brings a small patch of skin into his mouth and sucks on it for a moment, listening to the way the god purrs against his better judgement. He bites down, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to leave a gold mark.

“You're seriously asking for it,” Poseidon swallows, and Odysseus watches the way his throat moves. He nibbles the spot, and Poseidon squirms, a flush spreading across his body once more. “You can stop, I get your point.”

Odysseus finds his mouth and he presses their lips together in a soft kiss.

“No,” he murmurs as he brushes against his jawline. “You don't.” He pulls away, looking around the room before his eyes settle on a small table nearby. He considers trying to stretch to reach it, but decides the next part of his lesson needs him to stretch anyway. He stands from the bed, and he can feel Poseidon's curious gaze on his back as he makes his way to the table.

“Don't spoil the next step,” Odysseus says, smiling when Poseidon offers an unintelligible noise of confusion. His hands glide around the table before he grabs a small bottle. He picks at the clay sealing and after a moment he tosses it to Poseidon. “Open this.”

Poseidon catches it with ease, raising a brow. He snaps his fingers and the clay seal disappears. Odysseus returns, snatching the bottle away before Poseidon can process what's going on.

He guesses it pretty quickly when Odysseus sloppily pours the bottle into his hand and coats his fingers.

“There is no world where you're doing what I think you're going to do.” Poseidon deadpans.

“Stop talking,” Odysseus creeps over him and settles on his lower abdomen, legs on either side of him. “You're not allowed to talk anymore.”

Poseidon gives him a look, but says nothing.

“Oh, and you still cannot touch.” Odysseus smiles faintly as he reaches behind himself, leaning forward and lifting himself slightly as he circles his own entrance. Poseidon glares at him, gold seemingly etched onto every visible surface of his skin. Odysseus inserts his first digit and hums, thankful for how relaxed his body is. It does not take long before he's comfortable fitting in a second. Fingers twitch at Poseidon's sides as he watches him, Odysseus’ brows slightly knit together in focus.

“No touching,” he breathes as his third finger pushes in with his rest. He groans, the arm he's using for purchase shaking a bit as he tries to prepare himself for something much larger. He shuts one eye, but keeps the other open, content as he watches Poseidon's insatiable body come to life again.

“I w-wonder how many times you'll be able to go,” Odysseus muses as his tongue swipes along his bottom lip. Poseidon huffs in silence, but he can't stop the way his hips insistently jerk up. “I'm just an old man, you know. You have to go easy on me.”

Odysseus chuckles at the way Poseidon's gaze grows more heated.

Lies.

He pulls out his digits when he feels he's as prepared as he can be for the challenge ahead. He swallows thickly as he adjusts himself, using the remaining oil to slick the god’s eager arousal. After a moment of steeling himself, he guides Poseidon and gasps when the tip of his girth kisses his opening. Odysseus swallows thickly and commands his body to relent as he lowers himself.

Perhaps the oil was a mistake because Odysseus’ body hungrily accepts Poseidon's cock, an embarrassing noise escaping him as he all but sinks down. He brings a hand over his mouth, feeling his face heat up. He has no idea who resides in the castle today, and he does not need the guards to hear their king moaning like a virgin.

Poseidon growls when he quiets himself, and — as if trying to prove a point — he bucks up into Odysseus’ heat, causing another moan to be muffled by his hand.

“Stop that,” Odysseus hisses.

They both stare at each other, a silent dare passing between them that Odysseus quickly accepts, not one to back down.

Not tonight, at least.

He presses all his weight down and sighs when Poseidon finally bottoms out inside him. He gazes down and his face feels like it's on fire, half-lidded eyes staring up at him like he's a divine being.

Odysseus uses this to his advantage and lifts himself up with shaky arms before dropping back down. He does this again, and again, not giving either of them time to absorb the experience. He can't.

If he gives Poseidon time to think then he wins. He needs to keep him off his guard to stay in control.

Odysseus finds a steady rhythm, riding Poseidon like his life depends on it. He pauses only when Poseidon strikes the addictive spot within him, causing him to whimper. He chases that feeling, and soon he is relentless with his momentum. He purposely squeezes around the dazed god inside him and feels a wave of satisfaction when Poseidon's growls get more feral, more untamed. Sharp teeth bare at him, and fins flare out as Poseidon stares him down like a starving man.

Odysseus feels his groin heating up quickly the longer he bounces on the other and he reaches down, grasping his own cock with an unconcealed moan. The body below him tenses before becoming more active, Poseidon's hips attempting to meet his descent.

Suddenly, a gutteral sound fills the room and Poseidon roars.

“Wait—” Poseidon tries to say but Odysseus shakes his head, keeping his rhythm, hand greedily stroking his own desire with impetuous movements.

“Poseidon,” Odysseus calls out to him as he feels his peak near.

“Odysseus, wait,” Poseidon's breathing is out of control, a gold spread throughout his body like never before as he begins to thrash about beneath him. “Wait!”

Odysseus doesn't listen, his own mind completely devoured by a lustful fog. He slams down onto Poseidon and cries out as he sees stars, spurts of his release coating the god below him as he trembles.

Poseidon bucks up impossibly closer and Odysseus can feel himself get filled up, getting lost in his climax before he realizes the table next to him is noisily shaking.

He looks over his shoulder and notices the entire room is shaking — the entire castle is moving. Alarmed, he turns to look at the god, only to gasp when he's met with the sight of Poseidon ripping the sheets below him as his hips continue to jerk up, overly filling Odysseus. His eyes are distant as growls escape him, and Odysseus can't help but find him stunning.

After a moment Poseidon blinks and he wheezes, surging forward to grab onto Odysseus’ shoulders with a grip a little too tight for comfort.

“Are you trying to destroy Ithaca?” Poseidon accuses as his body twitches.

“Mmn?” Odysseus replies, lost in how full he feels.

“I had to force the ground together or your infuriating rule as king would have been over corpses!” Poseidon berates, but Odysseus is too busy staring at the way he continues to latch onto the mortal, like they need to get as close as possible to survive in that moment.

“That was incredible,” Odysseus says, and he can see the last string keeping the god behaved snap. He's flipped over onto the bed in a flash, Poseidon still inside of him.

“Enjoy my divine release buzzing within you, you're going to need it by the time Eos arrives.” Poseidon threatens and Odysseus hums.

“Good, that's what I want.”

Poseidon's eye twitches.

The next day, as he stumbles forward throughout the castle despite every part of his body aching, he overhears the guards whispering to each other.

“Our king is,” one of them pauses, “adventurous.”

“He does what he must for the safety of Ithaca.”

Odysseus walks a little faster, hiding the blush tickling his ears.

-

The warm sky and the distant mountains blend together as Odysseus rides past them. The sun lingers playfully above the sea in the distance, watching him.

“We were only supposed to be gone for a few moments. I am blaming you.” Odysseus huffs as the body below him fills the air with a loud nicker. “You just had to have me in a field of grass. You call me insatiable, but you are no better.”

The horse jumps up and Odysseus tightens his grip on its mane, leaning forward in an effort to stay seated. “No, not today. I'm not falling for your retorts.”

They cross the paths of a few common folk as they pass, and they all wave at the two of them with bright smiles. The horse slows down and Odysseus sighs in mock exasperation.

“My Lord,” A woman walks over and holds out a well formed shell towards the stallion. It stands proud as she adds it to its mane, a wandering eye looking at Odysseus in a smug display. The woman bows her head before backing away.

The horse gallops forward once more, and Odysseus bites back a teasing comment. In truth, he's elated that the god and his people treat each other with a semblance of respect. They fear him, but far more than that, they seem to enjoy his company.

Their stride comes to a stop once they reach the beach below the castle cliff.

Odysseus spots three figures already waiting and he scoffs, “We are late.”

“You enjoyed the risk of getting caught,” Poseidon purrs as the horse breaks apart into amber flesh.

“Quiet,” Odysseus feels his cheeks warm up.

“They're here!” Telemachus shouts, and the other figures snap their heads around. When Odysseus meets their gazes Athena smiles, and Pelagios bows.

“I dare not look at what you two have been up to,” Athena murmurs as Odysseus and Poseidon get closer.

“Enjoying the flowers,” Poseidon drawls and Athena makes a face.

Odysseus, Poseidon, and Athena watch as Telemachus pulls Pelagios away, a bright smile on display as he drags the other to something in the sand. A little crab raises its claws at them and they both giggle.

“Those two are getting along well,” Poseidon muses. “You're going to have to repay me with a replacement servant at this rate.”

Poseidon looks Odysseus up and down and grins, “I have an idea—”

“You wish.” Odysseus swats at him.

“I'm glad you and Telemachus are enjoying yourselves. You've been through a lot, Odysseus.” Athena looks down at him with soft eyes.

“It is largely thanks to both of you, and Hermes. I would not be here otherwise.”

“I think you would have found a way,” Athena muses. “However, I don't believe other methods would have resulted in peace. So this is the best outcome.”

She drifts on in thought, and then her expression hardens. “Telemachus is showing a lot of promise. Perhaps we could…”

“You will have to speak with him. My adventuring days are over, Athena.” Odysseus closes his eyes and leans back into toned muscle behind him. Poseidon slips his hands around his waist. “I only wish I could see the world that you help create long after I am gone.”

Silence envelops them and Odysseus peeks out of one eye. Athena is looking above him, at Poseidon.

“What are you two discussing without words?” Odysseus asks, tilting his head up to look at his lover.

“I've been speaking to my brother—” Odysseus tenses up, “—the other one.”

“It would be a shame to lose that mind of yours, Odysseus.” Athena shifts her weight onto one leg.

“I do not want to be immortal.” Odysseus drops his gaze. “I am a man, and part of being a man is that one day my soul will be claimed and judged.”

“Do not fret, I know you too well to consider that.” Poseidon leans down to press a kiss to Odysseus’ temple. “We discussed other matters.”

Odysseus looks at him curiously, but he only gets a smile in response.

He will have to wait and see, it seems.

“Your fins are so smooth,” Telemachus’ voice fills the air. Odysseus glances over and spots his son massaging circles into a very flushed Pelagios’ fins.

“P-please stop that, I'm very sensitive there.” Pelagios shivers and Odysseus chortles.

He does not know how long he will live, or how long this peace will last, but he does know that this moment is another one to add to his blooming garden of new memories. When his final day comes, hopefully long from now, his last breath will be accompanied by a smile.

“While those two get to know each other better, we should return to our chamber.” Poseidon murmurs against his hair.

“More flowers to enjoy?” Athena narrows her eyes.

“Athena!” Odysseus sputters.

“I jest. We will talk again soon, Odysseus. It was nice seeing you. Oh, and Hermes sends his regards.”

“I'll leave an offering for you both soon.” Odysseus smiles and Athena offers one of her own before jumping away and disappearing entirely.

“Telemachus, we are going back to the castle. Ensure that Pelagios returns to the sea by nightfall!” Odysseus calls out, but his voice is ignored as Telemachus and Pelagios share a heated stare. Perhaps he should have taught his son how to properly pace himself around a person of interest.

He thinks back to a young man nervously rambling to Athena about how he cannot speak to women and he purses his lips. Maybe it's for the best that he doesn't give his son any advice, actually.

Poseidon pulls him out of his thoughts, reaching down to intertwine their fingers together. Odysseus goes with him without a fight, and they take the long walk back to the castle. It's rocky, requires a lot of maneuvering around terrain, and Odysseus nearly trips once.

It's perfect.

By the time they get inside, they're both giggling with each other like young men with no burdens on their shoulders yet. His loyal guards bow to them but say nothing more, a knowing glint in their eyes all they need to communicate as the two of them walk towards their bedroom. When they pass by the castle’s main chambers, a familiar ache resides in Odysseus’ chest.

We will see each other again, one day.

He shares a look with Poseidon, and they both smile. For many moons Odysseus would kneel by his and Penelope's bed and cry, letting himself mourn the life he did not get with her. Poseidon is always nearby, waiting patiently.

Today though, the ache does not grasp his entire body. It lingers, but it does not control.

The god and mortal enter their room. Poseidon lifts him up into an all consuming kiss the moment the door is closed, and Odysseus grins a little bit into it, huffing in laughter. Poseidon brings him to the balcony, and puts him back down, lips still brushed against his. They meet each other's gaze and Odysseus savors the way his heart flutters.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you as well,” Poseidon gives him one more kiss before standing tall. They both look out the balcony, and Odysseus sighs peacefully. The tide below provides a gentle push and pull, and Odysseus leans into the body next to him.

In another life, perhaps things play out differently for him. Maybe he gets to see Penelope again, or Poseidon remains his enemy until the end of his days.

Whatever the case, Odysseus is happy now, and he's going to enjoy every moment he and Poseidon have together.

Notes:

Thank you much to my friend, Nite, who I commissioned for the above art! Plus, thank you to my other friend who gave me the money to commission them! Nite is also the one who encouraged me to start writing this fanfic, and I cannot thank them enough.

There is still an Epilogue, but if this is where we leave off dear reader, thank you so dearly for joining me on this journey together! I do have other Odyseidon fanfics (one-shots as of right now) planned for the future.

Wanna chat or have a question? I spend way too much time on tumblr and bluesky. (princelybunny + sgtspacedad76)

Chapter 15: Epilogue

Summary:

“Why should I be able to cheat death? Because I obtained a god’s affection while they did not?”

“They are not you, Odysseus! You are—” Poseidon falters, fins drooping low as his anger disappears in the blink of an eye. “You are everything to me.”

Notes:

Wow okay- thank you for 1,000+ Kudos first of all, wow!

Look at this amazing fanart!!!!

I'll speak more at the end!

Odysseus blinks and the years fly by.

Each morning he wakes to Poseidon trailing kisses along his collarbone, a small bite to his shoulder that he's grown used to, and claws tickling his bare skin as they travel down to his hips. Every rise of the moon brings the god to his knees, resting his head on Odysseus’ lap as he tells him the things he dares tell no one else.

They spend each day learning about each other. Poseidon listens with interest as Odysseus speaks of his past, of faces he has not seen in over a decade, and of past potential romantic tension with someone other than Penelope. He talks about betrayal, regrets, and a clash of egos and intelligence.

Poseidon reveals past attempts to overthrow his brother, how they failed miserably, and how he was punished for it. Sometimes a lingering cloud outside will get a little darker as it passes by, thunder booming in the distance in a sign of defiance.

More than words, they spend the evenings with their hands on each other, eyes trying to etch the other into their memories. The castle walls hide the way their soft touches usually end in tears from both of them, thinking of the time they wasted being angry with one another.

To Odysseus, he is old, and he knows at some point his body will fail him whether he wants it to or not. He is a man, just a man, and one day his life will be judged. He spent about half his life fighting and participating in a war, only for him to lose everything except his son on the way back. He gained a lover, but now his time with his lover is when he's a little more tired, and a little slower.

To Poseidon, they are on a time limit. The years he spent chasing and waiting for Odysseus to return home are small in comparison to immortality, yet he aches knowing they could have had ten more years together. Maybe more if Poseidon tried harder to seek him out, if he chose a different bias and noticed Odysseus sooner. Odysseus is not the first mortal he adored, but he's one of the oldest ones.

Odysseus still breathes, but with every rise of the sun to depict a new day, they both worry and know that it'll never feel like enough.

“Damn,” Odysseus says one day.

He's leaning on Poseidon as they stand on the balcony, watching his son walk away as he prepares for another outing with his patron goddess, and his partner. Pelagios, older but aging slower, meets him on the road ahead and they embrace. As they leave Odysseus’ view, he sighs.

“What ails you?” Poseidon turns his head, fingers running through Odysseus’ hair as he happily carries his weight on his side.

“I do not know how many more times he'll be able to set out before I relinquish the throne to him,” Odysseus admits, his body feeling heavier than usual.

“Do not say that,” Poseidon makes a noise, and Odysseus leans closer to him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“We cannot fight the inevitable,” Odysseus whispers, but the words feel like anchors scraping across his tongue. The more time passes the more he begins to believe less in his own statement. He lacks conviction even to himself.

Poseidon's chest vibrates and a growl escapes him, “It doesn't have to be inevitable!”

“Poseidon,” Odysseus starts, prepared for a conversation they've had many times already, “My wife—”

“—Your wife, your friends, your men, your allies are all down there, I know this! You think you deserve to be down there one day, floating around with muted thoughts like the rest of them.” Poseidon shifts, both of his hands grabbing Odysseus’ shoulders as he kneels down, claws carefully resting atop his cloak despite his clear frustration.

“Why should I be able to cheat death? Because I obtained a god’s affection while they did not?”

“They are not you, Odysseus! You are—” Poseidon falters, fins drooping low as his anger disappears in the blink of an eye. “You are everything to me.”

“Poseidon—”

“You are my world. I ache just thinking of the day when I wake up and your eyes like honey are not there to greet me. I've tried turning into every animal under Helios’ gaze to think less, to feel less, but nothing dulls the dread. I have let my true form take over in the hopes that the surge of power and control would bring me clarity, and you know what it did?”

Odysseus swallows thickly around a lump in his throat, eyes unfocused as his vision begins to blur, tears threatening to spill over the longer they talk. “What?”

“I don't recall at all, and that concerns me,” Poseidon's head falls forward as he pulls Odysseus in, resting his cheek on his mortal’s shoulder. “Do not give in so easily. If not for me, for the safety of Ithaca, and all the lands that have men residing on them. I cannot be trusted to act like the god you fell in love with when you are gone. I have drowned humanity for far less.”

“What did you speak about with Hades?” Odysseus asks, voice low, thoughts spiraling in a vortex as the screams in the back of his head that remained hushed whispers for so long rear their heads once more.

He feels a warm puff of breath on his neck before Poseidon speaks, “I told him of you, and I told him you are a mortal who put our younger brother in his place. You are a hero, and therefore you deserve to reside in Elysium once you enter his realm.”

“Then that is where you must visit me,” Odysseus says, and he immediately hates himself for it. The way his own stomach plummets is nothing compared to the way Poseidon recoils, eyes wide as they search his own, as if Odysseus can take the words back, deny he even said them. Poseidon gives him that opportunity and yet still, like a man intentionally pulling a knife out of his wound to bleed out, he says, “I cannot give you everything you want.”

“You deny me?” Poseidon's words take all the air from Odysseus’ lungs.

“No! Not you, I—” Odysseus groans as Poseidon stands, his thoughts a hurricane sweeping away what he wants to say.

They both stand there, saying nothing as Odysseus brings his hands to his head, screams growing louder and more wild, voices he does not even recognize anymore curling around his neck.

“Please,” he says, “It's not you, my love, it's me. Do not blame yourself for the life that I lived!” The more he talks the more he feels like he's suffocating, a ringing noise painfully pounding against his head, twisting and ripping the edges of his brain. He feels ill, gross, and like his heart is going to give out. “I need to die, or they'll never let me be at peace!”

He hears Poseidon call his name, sees his eyebrows knit together, but everything is fading quickly from view. His feet are stuck to the ground as the screams in his head spin around, a wave of men calling for their captain reaching out to him. Odysseus knows they want him with them; they remind him that they hate him every night in the depths of his mind while he's dreaming.

He is alive, and they are not. He is considered a hero, and they are the men who died along the way. They are the men who were killed because Odysseus made a mistake, because the king of Ithaca couldn't keep his mouth shut, because their captain thought his single life mattered more than them getting home.

His body is heavy as it falls backwards, a pressure in his head growing and feeling like it'll split his head open. Two sturdy arms catch him before he hits the ground, and Odysseus is overcome with a fresh wave of nausea. He does not deserve the small brush of lips on his forehead, or the whispers of acknowledgement he receives. Yet still, as his body is easily carried and held by the god of the seas, he is treated like a man worthy of respect as he's gently placed into bed.

“Poseidon,” he calls out through the swirling colors in his vision, a part of him almost wishing he would just pass out instead. “Don't go, please.”

“I am here,” Poseidon says, “I will always be here.”

“I would never deny you,” Odysseus continues, blinking away an endless array of spots. He hears a small sigh and the voices peak, shouting and screaming all the things he's been keeping tucked away in the hopes he could move on.

You miss your wife so bad,
You trade the lives of your own crew?

The screams escape his mouth.

If you want all the power,
You must carry all the blame!

There is no price he won't pay!

Cold. Cold! So cold!

Odysseus gasps as the voices scatter, his wet curls dangling over his eyes as he looks around in a frenzy.

He's in his room, that's right. He is home, and he is with Poseidon. He is safe. Poseidon is sitting next to him on their bed, and everything is fine.

“Thank you,” Odysseus says, watching as a trail of water slips through Poseidon's fingers into his skin.

“You are still deeply haunted,” Poseidon says, and it's not a question. Long navy blue hair covers one eye as the god looks away in thought. “If you properly blamed me like you should, I could assist in carrying your guilt.”

“No,” Odysseus shakes his head, “I will not. I have not for years.”

“Why?” Poseidon's fins hang low as he avoids looking at Odysseus. “And do not give me that tangent about wanting to relax. Clearly that is not working.”

“How can I blame the you that resides in front of me now, my love? You are not the god you were all those years ago.” Odysseus reaches out slowly, his limbs barely responding to him. He touches soft skin kissed by the ocean and Poseidon twitches, still refusing to glance.

“Years are not much to us gods, you know. That is a blink of the eye to me. How much could I have changed since then?”

“Blink of the eye? Then what of the many moments we spent sitting on the beach, staring out at the sea while the moon embraced us? The numerous nights we laid on our backs in the sand and you promised me you'd turn me into a constellation?” Odysseus lightly brushes his fingers along Poseidon's arm, admiring how smooth and flawless he remains while his own skin grows heavier by the day.

“I grew dissatisfied with that promise very quickly,” Poseidon whispers and Odysseus can't help the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

“The long evening we spent watching my son and Pelagios from afar as they fumbled over their first words of courtship. The amount of times one of them looked over at us as if we had the answers they sought. The wild hand symbols and gestures as we tried to assist, only for them to get the wrong message and do something pitifully awkward.” Odysseus is grinning now, memories flooding back like they were yesterday.

“It is a testament to their feelings that they survived such an abysmal encounter,” Poseidon huffs a light laugh, and he leans into Odysseus’ touch.

“Or how about the mornings when our eyes make contact and in moments we are on top of each other, rolling around like ambitious young men. How sweetly you sing my name like a prayer when you're below me. How I dig my nails into your back when you whisper how many children you want to have with me.” Odysseus swats away the heat rising in his groin in favor of the warmth that fills his heart. Poseidon is resting his head on his chest now, and Odysseus runs his fingers through long strands.

“And I will continue to bring it up,” Poseidon mumbles, and a bubble of laughter leaves Odysseus.

“All these moments are just a blink of the eye to you?” Odysseus asks.

“No,” Poseidon answers fast, humming each time Odysseus’ fingers brush through his hair. “They are moments I will treasure for an eternity.”

He turns his head then, the large god bringing his arms underneath him as he places his chin on them. Alluring blue scleras and even brighter eyes stare at Odysseus.

“All these wonderful moments we've had that we both adore, yet you do not want to continue them with me?” He asks, and Odysseus has to swallow down his earlier dismay.

“It is not that I don’t want to.” Odysseus nips the inside of his cheek as he thinks of a way to say his next words that won't alarm the other. He fails. “I do not deserve it.”

“Yes, you do.” Poseidon snaps back immediately. Slitted pupils stare at him for a long time before he rises, arms on either side of Odysseus as he leers down at him. “Let me prove it.”

“Prove what?” Odysseus looks up at him, at the way his hair blankets his shoulders and spills down his back, shifting alongside his muscles as the god holds himself up.

“Give me one year to prove that you deserve to live by my side,” Poseidon challenges, “forever.”

“That is a long time,” Odysseus says without thinking, lost in the radiance that is his lover loudly trying to convince him.

Small tendrils of hair snake up his arms and wrap around his wrists. He tugs against them, but they do not hold him down, no. They cling to him in silent desperation, a symbol of Poseidon's inability to let go.

They stare at each other for a while, a quiet back and forth happening with their eyes as the sunlight lingers in the background, coating the room in a cozy warmth. It's strange, Odysseus thinks, the way the voices are drowned out by the sea god in front of him. All their years together, and the way Poseidon grips the screams in his mind and squeezes them until they wail and disappear still impresses Odysseus.

Perhaps that is what love is. It's not all at once, but a slow gentle burn that turns the negative thoughts to ash over time. They'll return, but he knows their time is limited.

“Okay,” Odysseus says, and Poseidon lights up, his skin glowing with soft rosy and blue undertones like a jellyfish.

“You mean it?” Poseidon asks, unmoving.

“Yes,” Odysseus offers a small smile, tired eyes feeling less sunken as he watches the tendrils of Poseidon's hair twirl in a dance. “Show me how terribly I want to spend the rest of eternity with you, god of the seas.”

In a second their lips are together, Poseidon kissing him so intensely that Odysseus loses track of time, and soon after air. He squirms, but Poseidon simply slips his tongue into the mortal's mouth and Odysseus receives breath another way. He groans despite himself, his lover’s fervor bringing his body to life.

It's going to be a long year.

Notes:

 

Oh, you thought it was done? Only if you want it to be.

'Love Me Loudly' chapter 1 is out!

Thank you guys so much for your support on this fanfic, I never could have dreamed so many of you would enjoy reading my spontaneously written idea.

Also ignore how my Poseidon got a design update- oops.

The reason this epilogue took so long is because it is not what my original idea was. Want to learn more about that? I'm gonna yap about it over on tumblr! (Princelybunny)

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Unspoken Thoughts