Little God

6

“I did not ask for a hero or a god atop a mountain.

I asked for a beloved.”

Melis sighed.

“You dream of it.”

“I have dreamed of you,”

Antero countered, and reached out to find Melis and pull him closer.

His hands were hot even through cloth, his hold strong.

Melis settled over him light as a cloud, and shivered once he had fully straddled Antero’s lap.

“You still will not touch me?”

Antero asked, earnestly polite even while his soul sang his joy.

Melis raised a hand to nearly his cup his cheek.

Antero turned toward it as though he felt the heat.

His lips could have brushed Melis’ palm.

Melis stared at the bow in his upper lip.

“What if…?”

“What if.”

Antero interrupted him, not seeming overly worried about the wrath of the deity in his lap.

“Desire must be convinced he is wanted.

So I ask again—am I permitted to touch you? God you may be, but you are also my husband, and having come this far, we might as well continue on as married people do.”

More teasing.

But his joy would light the room if it burst free of his ribs, so Melis could not take offense.

“We are already touching, in that sense,”

Melis pointed out breathlessly, the inside of his legs pressed to the outside of Antero’s.

“So we are,”

Antero murmured, and closed his eyes before sliding his hands beneath the hem of Melis’ tunic.

He curled his fingertips ever so slightly into the padded muscle at the top of Melis’ thighs.

As if it felt as good to him as it did to Melis, he let out a harsh breath.

“You are real, though your skin is soft as no human’s could be.”

His hands inched higher, pushing the skirt of the tunic up to bare Melis’s cock to the air.

When Melis gasped, Antero went still.

“This is new to you.

Do you wish me to stop or slow down?”

“Keep going,”

Melis commanded immediately, making Antero laugh and tug at the bit of tunic he held.

“Then allow me to remove this, if it please you.”

“Oh.

Clothing, yes.”

Melis gave a start at the reminder of other requirements for such acts, then sent the tunic away.

Antero jolted as it vanished, then laughed again, shaking his head ruefully a moment before he splayed his hands over Melis’ ribs.

“I would have liked undressing you, even if I can’t see you.”

“I am enjoying this,”

Melis insisted, arching to better feel the touch of those hands over his stomach and then across nipples suddenly peaked and eager.

Antero discovered the light hair on Melis’ chest and smiled to himself before moving on to learn other parts of him.

This included touching Melis’ nipples again, his smile growing when Melis began to pant, “And my wings would have slowed you down in the… in the undressing.

Antero, it feels…. Stop, or do not stop; it’s so much.”

Antero paused, hands warm over flesh already too sensitive.

“Overwhelmed?”

he guessed, quieting Melis flustered attempts to defend himself.

“It’s fine, love.”

Then he paused again, clearly just noticing what Melis had said and possibly remembering one of the features in nearly all statues of Desire.

“Wings.

Yes, of course.”

He swallowed, his thumbs sweeping restlessly over Melis’ ribs.

Then he nodded with decision and moved his strong hands to Melis’ back, exploring the smooth skin under the base of each wing before touching the wings themselves.

Melis couldn’t stop shivering at each hesitant caress to his feathers. “Antero?”

he whispered into the air around Antero’s neck, bashful despite the throb of his cock and the heat all through his skin.

“I want to move.

Should I?”

He shifted his hips forward slightly to demonstrate.

“Like this?”

He tentatively rocked his hips to feel their skin together, enjoying even the sweat where their thighs touched.

“Like that.”

Antero splayed his hands at Melis’ back to steady him, then pulled him closer without stopping Melis’ efforts.

His approval was a blessing.

“Will I even need to teach you? Or is it a god’s instinct to take?”

He brushed his lips across Melis’ cheekbone, then bent his head to do the same to the place beneath Melis’ ear.

He exhaled damply to sear the impression of his kiss into Melis’ skin forever.

“Do as you please.

I’m enjoying all of it.”

Melis lifted his arms and stretched out his wings before bringing both forward.

Not trusting himself to leave his hands free, he rested his arms around Antero’s strong shoulders, then hid Antero’s loveliness from the moon’s prying eyes with a solid wall of feathers.

Some of them must have teased Antero’s skin, tickling, because he laughed again.

Melis was surprised to find himself laughing with him, snorting once and stopping immediately, only to laugh again.

“Every night.”

Melis was reckless with a joyous Antero beneath him.

“Even though I can only give you this, closeness and my clumsy fucking, it is yours.”

Antero’s hands were flint and fire, slipping down to Melis’ hips to finally direct how Melis should move: back-and-forth rocking, and slow, swaying rolls, and up-and-down glides that Melis didn’t understand but trusted Antero had his reasons for showing him.

So far, he liked the first the best, especially when Antero pulled him in until his cock dragged along Antero’s stomach.

Melis pushed closer until there was no room between them, only to find there wasn’t enough pressure no matter how he pressed in.

Not enough to bring him to completion, only enough to come maddeningly close.

Antero let him chase the feeling, kissing his way down Melis’ throat when Melis threw his head back.

That was when, unable to get closer, Melis tried the second motion: slow, small, rolls of his hips with Antero’s cock hot and hard beneath him, Antero’s hands clenching and unclenching on his hips.

Melis strained muscles he had never once given a thought to, muscles he technically didn’t need to strain.

But he was melted wax in Antero’s hands, and the kisses to his neck Antero gave him as Melis teased them both made his soul shiver.

Teasing was exactly what it was, a mimicry of what they might do—would do, if Melis had his way.

Yet he didn’t want to ever stop this, although the longer he poured himself like hot honey into Antero’s lap, the more he yearned to have the real thing. “Just don’t look at me. I’m small and foolish. You don’t believe me, but I am. Don’t look so I won’t have to leave you.”

“I won’t look, beloved,”

Antero promised, “but I will take if you will not.”

Then he guided Melis’ mouth to his.

Melis fell against his sworn husband, face tipped up, his heart pounding.

Antero’s kiss was firm against his lips and soft against his rough places.

The desires of the rest of the world muted.

The wind danced and twirled above the dark sea outside.

When the kiss ended, Melis whined faintly for another.

Another was granted.

Melis surrendered to it without hesitation.

His hands slid down over Antero’s shoulders, then up to rest tentatively at Antero’s jaw.

Antero’s skin was not divinely smooth but marked with lovely imperfections.

The hair on his body was coarse, the texture an unexpected thrill.

There was even stubble at his chin, equally delightful against Melis’ palms.

The realization of what Melis had done was slow to occur, and then slower still to reach the parts of Melis not occupied with learning what to do with his tongue when kissed or how to let his human husband catch his breath between kisses.

“I touched you,”

he murmured as he pushed up for another.

His heart was beating fast, but it had been since he had first kneeled on this bed.

Antero’s heartbeat was steady.

He kept Melis close and kissed him until Melis’ lips seemed to buzz like a hive of contented bees. He might have paused to give Melis space, but Melis leaned forward whenever he tried, and then they were kissing again.

“And do my desires feel any different to you?”

Antero wondered, over Melis’ mouth, into his mouth, kissing Melis deeply before Melis could answer.

Melis kissed back as he’d been taught, once again slow to recall what he’d done.

His guilty, traitorous hands were creeping toward Antero’s hair but remained in contact with his skin.

The glow between them didn’t change.

It grew brighter, warmer without burning, and that wasn’t enough to convince Melis to stop.

Melis pulled back but then didn’t care for the distance and pressed forward to sweat-slick skin.

He felt that, tasted it, pressed the length of his cock to it.

Antero, he thought, and Antero’s arms tightened around him.

He slid his mouth to Antero’s jawline, then, unsure of the stubble against his lips, dipped his head to kiss his neck.

Antero made a startled noise, reminding Melis that Antero could not see him and didn’t know where to expect kisses though he welcomed the ones he got.

With only a short pause, he tipped his head to the side, silently telling Melis to continue.

Melis had his mouth on him again in seconds, kissing, sucking, nipping, licking, reveling in each and the taste of his husband’s pleasure, only realizing afterward that he was smiling.

“Beloved,”

he tried out, scarcely more than a breath.

But Antero shuddered, skating a hand over Melis’ back to rest it at his nape and keep him where he was.

“Beloved,”

Melis repeated louder into skin wet from his kisses, so bright inside he could challenge the moon and the sun in turn.

Antero couldn’t see that any more than he could see Melis, but he trusted it was there, as he trusted it was Melis in his arms.

Melis shifted back into the second rhythm Antero had taught him, his favorite, rolling his hips to press himself against Antero’s stomach and then, when Antero took both of their cocks in hand, to stroke them together in his blessedly tight grip.

Antero’s heavier breathing was music.

Melis put his mouth to places he’d already kissed to kiss them again.

He didn’t want to harm Antero ever, yet wished to swallow him whole, to have him inside where they would fit together exactly. “I touched you, and you feel the same. Actually, you want me more,”

he stumbled a bit there, because the images and ideas of where Antero would like his hands to go were distracting.

Melis thought that, then dared to drop his hand, pushing Antero’s aside so Melis could be the one to hold Antero’s cock.

Too tight perhaps, but then better because Antero’s desires were there for Melis to read and respond to.

Antero had been right to want this from him, Melis decided immediately and brought his head up to kiss Antero’s slack mouth while he continued to clumsily pleasure him with his hand.

Antero’s chest heaved.

His cock was beautiful like the rest of him, hard and hot, sticky and silken.

“You have felt my touch and your desires did not change,”

Melis told him, crooning to soothe the need making Antero twitch against his palm.

“Now I won’t be able to stop touching you.

I will sate myself in touch alone, and then turn my attentions to taste, to smell.”

That, Antero had also indulged in, so Melis took a moment to try that, sniffing and then licking his fingers.

Liquid pearls from an aroused lover tasted of desire in its purest form.

Oh, oh, Melis had not known.

So many of his reluctant worshippers had spoken of it as they had spoken of being on their knees for all their lovers, of wet tongues and honey pots and fountains of pleasure.

But he hadn’t realized they were intoxicated on the taste of physical desire itself.

Melis’ head swam.

He moved Antero and himself without thought, uncaring of anything but getting what he wanted until Antero exclaimed in shock at suddenly being on top of Melis, who was now flat on his back beneath him.

Melis twined his arms around Antero’s neck to pull his startled Antero to him, and his beloved husband fell to him with grace, even stunned as he was.

He was a bit heavy, however.

“Forgive me,”

Antero ground out, keeping his face against Melis’ shoulder though he shifted to get onto his knees.

“I forgot you were immortal and this surprised me.”

“I am sorry for scaring you,”

Melis told him, gracious because Antero was a pretty sight kneeling over him.

His hands were on either side of Melis, and it took Antero only another second to look up again.

He frowned toward Melis, toward his hands, pressed obviously to the bed and nothing else.

“Your wings?”

“I can disguise myself however I please,”

Melis informed him, pulling to try to get him back down again.

“But you are still Melis?”

Antero wondered with seemingly genuine concern.

“I might not see your face, but I’d like to know you are wearing it, if it please you.”

Melis let his arms fall to his chest.

He smiled up at Antero like a foolish shepherd chasing after a faun.

Such a chase usually led to ruin, but even knowing that could not deter him.

“Devoted Antero,”

he sighed around his smile, “you could instruct me in the ways of love much better if you were down here with me.”

He inched his legs apart, then moved his hips so Antero wouldn’t fail to understand.

Antero’s gaze found his, even if he didn’t know it.

“I won’t ask if you’re sure.”

He said this in the manner of someone being generous.

Melis reached for Antero’s cock to stroke it the way Antero’s desires told him to, pausing only to lick the flavor from his fingers.

“After I’ve had you inside me this way, I would like to try my mouth,”

Melis informed him, attention fixed on the gleaming tip of Antero’s cock pushing through his wet fingers.

Antero bent his head, letting Melis explore him without any complaint stronger than a groan.

“We will need oil.

And you must tell me what you like or don’t like.

I cannot see you, and I cannot know your wants as you know mine.”

His Antero was the most thoughtful, the most caring.

Melis didn’t only think that because desire was luscious on his tongue.

Antero truly was a remarkable creation.

“I would strike down War himself if he ever tried to bring harm to you,”

Melis vowed huskily.

Let the moon tattle it to the sun when they passed each other; he didn’t care.

“Shush.”

Antero’s caution was sensible, but his smile was uncertain, as though he liked Melis’ words but found them shocking.

For that, Melis defied his wisdom, too giddy for sense. “No!”

This only grew worse when Antero slipped away from him to find the oil he said he needed, the returned just to spend a considerable amount of time arranging Melis how he pleased—which involved groping for what he could not see, and then kissing at the crease of Melis’ hip, and over the heavy weight of his testicles, and then down to the soft, soft places on Melis’ inner thighs, which were shaking by the time Antero got there.

Perhaps that was why Antero put a hand on Melis’ hip and bent over him in one graceful motion to take the tip of Melis’ cock into his mouth.

Melis instantly shuddered apart under Antero’s fragile strength and coaxing tongue.

He grasped Antero’s hair and pushed him down until all of Melis’ cock was cradled in tight heat.

He’d meant to control himself, but his enthusiasm seemed to please Antero, who groaned around the length of him before pulling back slowly to swallow around the head.

This gave Melis the pretty view of Antero’s hollowed cheeks and moving throat as he greedily drank Melis’ seed, and then sucked again to make Melis arch from the bed.

Antero’s dark eyes somehow met his, as if he knew and enjoyed Melis’ every broken thought about the movements of his tongue.

And when there was no more nectar to be had, he at last let Melis’ cock slip from his mouth and then licked his lips, which were darker and wet, and if Melis was not mistaken, slightly swollen.

Melis was never going to be able to forget his cock again.

No wonder so many were obsessed with the things done in bed.

He owed his thanks to The Warmth of the Marriage Bed as well as Physical Pleasure.

But later. Much later.

“I will have you as the other gods take their lovers,”

he promised feverishly with Antero’s desires around him but not on him, not in him.

“I will come to you as a rainstorm, as an animal with the strength of a bull, as a song slipping inside you.

Whatever you want.

Antero, please. But you must take me too. I know I’m not experienced, but I’ll learn.”

“Because I will teach you.”

Antero’s voice was heady with thwarted need and desire for yet more of Melis’ seed in his mouth.

The curl of his tongue had felt so good Melis thrust up at the memory.

Antero easily pushed him back down.

“Close your eyes and keep them closed. Experience this as I do, beloved.”

Melis shivered but obeyed.

He was a god, but no fool.

“I’ve shut them.”

“Think of whatever you can that is not your body,”

Antero further instructed, lifting one of Melis’ legs, then pausing to kiss his knee.

“You held off better this time, but now you must fight it as long as you can.

Until it hurts.

Until you can’t be still and your voice is hoarse from calling for me.”

“Delaying makes the pleasure greater.”

Melis remembered, but in truth, he was already struggling to keep still from the night air on his spent, wet cock, and Antero’s hands pushing his legs apart.

Antero smoothed some of Melis’ trembling by massaging tense muscles and bending a few times to press a quick kiss to his lower stomach.

Each quick kiss was followed by a softer kiss of apology, as if he’d felt Melis startle.

Again and again, he did that, until finally Melis was pliant beneath him and each warm press of his mouth soothed Melis and left him sighing.

Warm, oiled fingers over Melis’ hip came next.

Melis gasped but kept his eyes shut, turning his head to the side, toward the window and the moon.

Melis would have been bathed in silver too if Antero could have seen him, though he didn’t know if Antero would find that beautiful.

The oil was thick, the kind to drip down and soak into the bedding, the kind to make Antero’s hands slip easily along Melis’ thighs.

Antero stopped to rub more into his palms, a sound to make Melis tense again but now with anguished delight; those palms would be on him soon.

“This is all you require of me?”

he asked without air in his lungs, his knees bent and the space between them filled by his human husband.

“Not all,”

Antero promised, and then put one slick finger to the furl of Melis’ entrance to tease him.

Or not to tease, to prepare, but it felt much the same.

Melis rolled up into the touch and the life-giving glow of desire and approval from above him.

Antero did not stop, not even when Melis lifted his hips and slid a hand down to his cock on his stomach.

He merely pushed Melis back down as if expecting his husband’s obedience—and got it, though Melis had to bite his lip and clutch the sheets.

“Yes, then?”

Antero asked, not without smugness.

“You like this and wish to continue?”

Melis squirmed for Antero’s obvious pleasure in making him respond, and then again for his obvious pleasure at Melis’ squirming.

His cock began to plump again.

He didn’t allow himself a single stroke, but strummed his fingers over the shaft.

“I delight you.”

Melis squirmed this time solely to bask in Antero’s pleasure.

“Keep going.

I will take you like a proper husband.”

Antero growled then cut off the sound.

He pulled one of Melis’ knees over his shoulder and said, “Deep breath, little god,”

before pushing his oil-slick finger inside.

Melis barely remembered that he was a god, head back as he gasped and allowed Antero to enter him.

The pleasure was inside him now too, already close to overwhelming.

He listened desperately to the wind, to wishes and desires from across the sea and within this cliff-top city, and tales of woe both real and imagined, and even with those in his mind, couldn’t help but also notice there were no desires in this room except the need to feel more, to be closer, to peak and peak again.

“Antero,”

he began to whine after he had been opened by two fingers, or perhaps after the third.

“Antero, my body will be what I like, do what I like.

You won’t hurt me.

Antero, please.”

“But I enjoy this, as you must know,”

Antero told him, as if his need wasn’t forefront of his thoughts: Take him as a husband.

My mewling innocent, thighs open and slick, body ready, his heart beating so loud even I can hear it.

If I can’t have this again, I must take this time now.

“Antero,”

Melis rasped, tossing his head restlessly.

His tone was plaintive, perhaps even mewling, a humiliation, but one that Antero liked, so Melis found he liked it too.

He was Antero’s god; he could whine and squirm and whimper for him.

“Please don’t make me wait. I can receive you. I am ready. Please.”

Antero was suddenly over him, arms on either side, the breadth of his body between his legs.

He waited until Melis turned to him, breathing hard, then kissed him as Melis stretched up to do the same.

He settled his weight onto Melis slowly, gentling his kisses until Melis got his arms around him.

Then he pulled back as if trying to peer into Melis’ eyes and exhaling roughly when he couldn’t.

When Melis stroked the side of his face, his happiness flared bright once again.