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“So Ares, my man, I heard our dear cousin is bringing a friend from the belly of the underworld.” Dionysus grinned, already flushed from drink despite having literally just arrived at the party ten minutes ago, “What do you think?”
“I heard.” Ares replied haughtily, “I also heard he is Sleep Incarnate, a child of Nyx. No doubt he will be a creature befitting the stench of Hades.”
“Speak of the boatman...” Dionysus murmured, his gaze drifting to something just behind Ares, “There they are now.” Ares turned to look, and his lips curled with disdainful amusement at the sight of Zagreus and his ‘friend’.
“Watch your step!” Zagreus exclaimed as the little gremlin of a god beside him stumbled, a creature shrouded in pitch darkness, wrapped in a large red quilt that hid it completely from view, the only indication of life being the sickly yellow glow of two eyes peering out from the darkness of the quilt, “Just a few more steps to the temple, alright? I’ll take you to a nice dark shady spot in no time, promise.”
It was annoying to see his cousin, a god of nobility and strength, doting like a wife over this hideous little thing.
“Knew it.” Dionysus muttered with a grin as he lifted his arm and waved, calling to the two, “Everything okay, Zag?” Zagreus blinked as he turned to look at them, the sleep god also pausing beside him, those yellow eyes like twin suns boring into Ares, making his hackles rise instinctively.
“Oh- Yes, he’s fine!” Zagreus beamed, gently leading the creepy little sleep god as they trotted over to greet them properly, “He just isn’t used to this Olympian sunlight, is all, but he’s alright.”
“Will he be able to cope?” Ares asked without particularly caring for the answer, glancing down his nose at the strange thing with barely disguised apathy. Zagreus laughed quietly as Hypnos rustled, seeming excited by something.
“He will. Wanna say hello, Hypnos?” The blanket rustled quicker, the quilt lifting and the obscuring darkness being pushed back as light exposed the scrawny frame beneath it. Ares braced himself for the face of some hideous wretch, something skeletal and repulsive like his brother Charon, or perhaps the sharp gauntness of his brother Death.
He wasn’t remotely prepared for what they got.
Dionysus choked beside him as the sleep god’s face was revealed, the goblet in his hand tumbling to the ground as his grip slackened. Ares didn’t register any of it, however, as his mind had gone completely blank, empty of all thought, as soon as that face was revealed.
“Wowie!” eyes like pure golden ambrosia were wide and glittering like jewels, set against supple skin like Aphrodite’s lilacs and framed by hair so soft and starlike that Ares’ hands physically twitched with the urge to bury themselves in it, “Lord Ares and Lord Dionysus! I’ve heard so much about you guys! It’s an honor, really!” His voice was high and had a distinctly lark-like quality, and Ares was reminded with a shiver of the famed Orpheus, whose reedy voice brought even war itself to a grinding halt. Ares immediately wanted to hear Hypnos speak again, wanted to hear him prattle on for hours, preferably still looking at him with such open admiration. Zagreus got to see this every day? Got to be greeted by that tremulous voice, smiled at with that face that would throw Aphrodite into a fit of bitter jealousy, embraced by those slender arms and tiny frame that Ares could enclose with one hand?
Why in the world would he ever want to leave the underworld?
Ares must have zoned out, because when he snapped himself out of it, Zagreus was speaking, Hypnos smiling blithely beside him like a drop of sunlight clinging to a pale tree branch.
“Thanks for checking on him fellas, but I should really take Hypnos inside.” Zagreus was saying, and Ares felt a brief flash of rage at the very thought of this beautiful creature being taken from his sight, a rage that quickly melted into nauseating envy at the way their fingers laced together, the way Hypnos leaned into Zagreus’ body and shied away from the bright sunlight even as he graced them with another dazzling smile that made the brilliance of Helios’ chariot seem paltry by comparison.
“Nice to meet you guys.” Hypnos waved happily, his nails like pearly little seashells, his slender hand more tempting than all of Tantalus’ fruits, and Ares caught himself waving back weakly, hoping he didn’t look as dazed as he felt.
“Ah. Take care...” he said absently, tamping down on his emotions as best he could, not wanting to seem as desperate as he felt. He watched as Hypnos happily let himself be led away by Zagreus, and he wondered wildly if Hades would mind him stealing his employee for a few years. Hypnos would probably be more useful on Olympus anyway, and definitely happier. He’d get used to the light, and Ares would protect him if he didn’t. For a moment, he imagined stealing the sleep god away like a war prize, building a dark little home for him to hide away in, spoiling him with gifts and shows of power and devotion, hiding him away from brooding Hades and dismissive Thanatos and worshipping him nightly as he no doubt deserved.
He’d never have a restless slumber again if he spent each night with Sleep in his arms.
“I’m gonna fuck that sleep god.” Dionysus’ hoarse voice snapped him from his thoughts, and the familiar urge to tear his throat out reared its head. Ares snapped his head around to glare at him, eyes flaring bright red when he saw the starstruck look on his face.
“The fuck you are!” he snarled, and Dionysus’ hazy eyes sharpened slightly at the undisguised fury in his voice, those wine-stained lips stretching into a sly smirk as he leaned in.
“Come on man, don’t expect me to try and resist that.” Dionysus grinned, making a lewd gesture with his hands that set Ares’ blood boiling, “Did you see him? I know you did, my lustful friend, that sweet pale flesh like the thin skin of a succulent grape, just begging to be bitten into.”
“Lower your voice.” he hissed, more affected that he wanted to admit, but Dionysus continued.
“Legs hidden just so under that red fabric.” he sighed wistfully, “That beguiling smile, beckoning us to come ravish him.”
“Dionysus.” Ares growled, glancing to make sure Zagreus hadn’t overheard. Or worse, Hypnos, “You invite disaster with each careless word.”
“Did you see how tiny his wrists were?” the god of madness spoke with the silver tongue of Eros, “His delicate little feet? Those thighs I could grasp with just one hand and-“
“Silence yourself!” Ares snapped, grateful to his armor for hiding his physical reaction to the images Dionysus painted, “It matters not, either way. No matter how our blood burns, I doubt our cousin will allow us to access his little friend in such a way. I certainly wouldn’t.”
“Zag doesn’t get to decide who I play with, even if he is my friend.” he smirked before adding, “And I’m surprised at you, Ares, you never struck me as the type to let someone else’s opinion keep you from what you want.” Ares was not, and he could tell that Dionysus was not either. They stared at each other without blinking, the challenge in their eyes clear as the party went on easily around them. It was not the first time they’d competed for the attention of a beauty, and it would likely not be the last.
“I’m gonna harvest so much juice out of him, the mortals will think it’s a fucking monsoon.” Dionysus broke the silence with a challenging grin, and Ares bared his teeth in a mocking smile, his answer clear.
“I will drench his skin in the red rivers of war.” he replied with confidence, “I will slay his every enemy, no matter how petty, and I’ll present him the pile of corpses as a courting gift. Then I will ravish him again and again right there atop them, making him cry my name into the blood-soaked soil until it is all he is capable of saying.”
“Gross.” Dionysus wrinkled his nose, “See, that’s why I’m gonna win, man. Why ravish him in an ugly scene like that when I have a soft bed and some very friendly grapevines that would be much more pleasant?”
“Naturally you wouldn’t understand the raw sexuality of conquest.” Ares said haughtily, “The passion that battle brings, the sheer hunger of seeing your prize immediately after a battle and descending upon them with the blood of victory still drying on your skin.” Hypnos would make such a pretty sight like that, small and vulnerable and pressed into the ground by Ares’ much larger hands, that lazy smile beckoning him closer, those golden eyes lidded with a tempting sleepiness that Ares would find delicious challenge in driving away. Dionysus smirked again, cocking his hip as he conjured another goblet of wine to sip from.
“War prizes are great and all, but I think he’d look better in drunken disarray.” he said, his eyes shining as he visibly imagined it, much to Ares’ annoyance, “All messy hair and undone clothing and flushed cheeks, having so much fun dancing and laughing. I wonder what color he blushes, with that pretty purple skin. Damn, Ares, imagine how cute he’d be all drunk and clumsy and so easy to scoop up into my arms. I bet he’d be a giggly drunk, wouldn’t he? Affectionate. Clingy. Wanton.”
“Of that I have no doubt.” Ares said with a small smirk, “Perhaps after I have won, I will see if he cares to give you a consolation fuck. Under my watchful eye, of course.”
“Loving the confidence, Ares my man.” Dionysus laughed brightly, “Maybe I’ll ask him the same thing after I win. I’m not too possessive with my lovers, unlike you.”
“We’ll see who wins him in the end.” Ares said with dark promise in his eyes, the very memory of Hypnos’ allure enough to make losing an unacceptable option. He would have Hypnos writhing and moaning underneath him. It was only a matter of time and patience, “No matter how determined we are, it’s up to him to choose who he desires.”
“The challenge won’t be in attracting his attention.” Dionysus slipped an arm around his shoulders with a laugh, “It’ll be in keeping Zag distracted long enough to do so.”
“You think Zagreus will attempt to stand in our way?” Ares asked curiously, remembering with a frown how Zagreus had kept Hypnos close, how he’d led him so gently and laced their fingers together so familiarly. He felt his fists clench at the idea of those two together, his own cousin attempting to prevent him from getting what he wanted.
“If I had access to that every day, I wouldn’t let him go either.” Dionysus laughed, “But we don’t give up easy, do we?”
“No.” Ares murmured, picturing Hypnos’ face in his mind, imagining that admiring smile turned up to face him and that tiny body held securely in his arms, imagining holding him close and keeping him safe, making sure that all of Olympus and the underworld and the Fates themselves knew he was his, “No, we don’t indeed.”