Hades

            The man had taken down Thanatos. He struggled to contain his laughter. Thanatos was a difficult bastard and definitely deserved to be knocked on his ass. Before he even registered what he was doing, he was before the soul, trapping him. The soul’s fist landed before his eyes did. Blue eyes. Light, clear, bright. Afraid. He had to fight the bone-deep urge to draw him into a comforting embrace. Hades was already fighting the knowledge stemming from the touch, when he saw the other fist come up. Before realizing, he had caught it, and the other in his own hands. The entirety of the soul’s memories and life flew through him in a moment.

            He kept his eyes trained on the soul’s face and the two spoke. He noted the flood of heat in the man’s eyes once he had spoken. He noted the flood of heat in his own self when the man retorted with cocky self-assurance. A little bit of teasing escaped his iron-clad control, and a flash of amusement flicked through the soul’s expression. Hades did not dwell on the warm feeling in his stomach at the thought he had amused this man. Siromos. He repeated the name and rolled it over. He only realized he had spoken aloud when he saw the way the man’s throat bobbed with a hard swallow. The man asked his name and he was incredulous for a moment. He recalled the memories and realized the man truly did know nothing of his current predicament.

            “Perhaps we should get on with this. I’m sure you’ll figure out who I am soon enough.” He released one wrist and all but dragged the man up to the dais.

Siromos

            Standing before the dais, he now took in the figure of the queen. The two were a striking pair, and Siromos wondered at being able to view such beauty. The queen sat leisurely, looking as if she could be lounging in the sun for how comfortable she was. She rested her cheek on one hand, her elbow propped on the arm of the throne of bones. Her other hand was draped across her lap, one leg crossed over the other. Her foot danced in the air to a beat only she knew. He could tell it was a façade. The queen held an air of something cold and bloodthirsty that had a small kernel of dark fear seeding in his gut. It struck him then that perhaps these two weren’t mortal. That would certainly explain the unearthly quality surrounding them.

            The king kept his eyes on Siromos. He wanted to avoid the gaze, thinking it wasn’t right to lust for a married man. Then he realized he didn’t just lust for the married man, he lusted for them both. Gods, what he wouldn’t give to be between the two, worshiping them. He swallowed hard, knowing he had more to concentrate on in the moment. Looking to the king, he couldn’t help taking in one last lingering look.

            The king sat forward on the throne, his elbows on his knees, (very) large hands clasped tight before him. He was a giant of a man and almost managed to make the oversized throne look small. His hair was a thick black falling past his ears in unruly waves, graying slightly at the temples, a matching beard neatly trimmed along his strong jaw. His brows were thick black, sitting over the most intense pair of green eyes he had ever seen. He had a strong hooked nose, and a wide-set mouth with lips he wanted to…

            Shaking his head and closing his eyes, he banished the thoughts. Returning his gaze to the pair, he waited patiently for their business with him to conclude. The king sat back and nodded his head to somewhere behind Siromos. Looking over his shoulder, he spotted three balconies set in the wall above the door he had entered through. The hooded figures standing silent were not very comforting. This was not looking so good for him.

            “Accused.” The three spoke in unison, their voices booming throughout the hall. Siromos noted the hall had fallen silent as he turned fully to face the trio. “What do you plead? Guilty or guilty.”

            Siromos blinked at the options, or rather, option presented to him. That was when he realized he was on trial. He couldn’t remember a damn thing and they expected him to plead? Though, they did seem to have decided that for him. With an internal shrug, he decided to hades with it.

            “Not guilty.” He crossed his arms defiantly, tipping his chin. The crowd started again with its uneasy muttering.

            “Not acceptable. You are guilty and will plead such.” The men spoke firmly, seemingly right into his skull.

            “That is not acceptable,” He responded in the same cheeky way, almost unable to stop the baiting, “I have no memories and so I do not know for what I am guilty. From what I know, I am not guilty of anything besides attempting to free myself from someone who got handsy when I woke in a strange place.” He heard a strangled noise behind him and a feminine throat clear.

            “Not! Acceptable!” The voices were now oppressive, and he physically stepped back from the force of them.

            Siromos opened his mouth to speak once more, deciding he was in the shit now, might as well play it out. That was when he heard the sweetest voice from behind. It was closer than he expected, and he jolted, looking over to see the queen moving into place beside him.

            “I believe that’s quite acceptable, don’t you?” Her voice was thick and deep, pitched low and sultry. It made Siromos think of silk and steam. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he ceased thinking, utterly enthralled to the power this woman wielded so easily. “He’s pleaded and we find the evidence inconclusive to properly sentence him. He will serve probation under our watch until this may be concluded at a later date if we so choose.”

            Siromos processed the words, his mouth hanging open. He looked over his shoulder to the king, a bit satisfied to see a small bit of shock peeking through the mask. Looking back to the queen, she darted a quick glance at him, winking so quickly he might have missed it if he’d blinked. The hall was silent, the three figures seeming to stand frozen.

            “Very well. Judgement is concluded on this day.” The voices were no longer painful, simply an announcement rather than an attack. The muffled conversation returned to the room, the courtiers turning back to their mindless milling. He noticed a woman sipping an empty glass, and through it, he saw… bone?

            Siromos blinked hard, deciding he was hallucinating. He had been through a lot and needed a moment to relax in relative safety and process.

            “Come, Accused. Let’s walk and you tell me your name. Accused is going to become tired quickly.” The queen had slipped her arm through his, pulling insistently. He fell into step beside her, glancing over to the king, finding he no longer sat there. In fact, the king was nowhere to be found.

            “Ah, Siromos, your majesty.” He responded with eager respect, realizing the queen was his savior as they left the throne room.

            “Siromos.” She tested out his name the same as the king, then looked up at him with a pair of brown eyes he wanted to fall into. “You are quite the interesting interruption. I think you’ll stay for a while. You seem to have gotten the attention of my husband, and that is a hard thing to attain. Be careful with him, he is a beast of a man.”

            “I-I didn’t do anything.” Siromos stuttered out, unsure why he felt the need to justify himself to this woman. She may be a queen, but he had no need to grovel.

            “No, you didn’t. That is why I will let you refer to me by my name, and not my title. I’m sure you will understand more once I tell you.” She slowed to a stop, Siromos following in kind. She stepped closer, her body pressing to his, and if threatened with death Siromos could not stop the highly visible reaction his body had. The queen stood only a few fingers shorter than he did, and it was not difficult for her lips to brush against his ear. The gentle touch almost had him melting in a puddle. “Persephone.”

            He blinked, processing. He was learning that he did not process new information quickly. Siromos pulled back, hitting the wall behind him, realizing there was no space to be put between them. Then he realized he knew the queen’s name. She was… The queen of hades? The wife to Hades? That meant the king was… Oh hades no.

            The queen, Persephone, let out a jolly laugh, her head tipping back in joy. “Oh, you truly knew nothing did you?” She stepped in closer again, their faces only breaths apart. “Yes, you are in the underworld. Yes, I am the queen of it. My husband is indeed Hades, the man who you’ve garnered the interest of. I daresay you’ve garnered my interest as well. Do have a care not to lose it. My husband knows you now, and you are ours.”

            Her voice, though buttery sweet, held a steel sharpness. That kernel of fear she had planted in him grew into a small sprout alongside another seed that the pair had both planted. “Wait, how did you know what I was thinking? Wait, you’re a goddess. Of course, you know. He knows me? The Unseen One?”

            “You may speak his name.” Her lips spread into the most delicious smile that had Siromos think of kissing it off. “And you spoke aloud.”

            He was silent a moment, the air seeming to tense in anticipation. His thoughts had ceased their spiral, and he seemed taken over by a primal instinct incited by the inviting curl of her lips. Stepping forward, he pressed Persephone back, mentally kicking himself while his body took over. As they reached the opposite wall, Siromos pressed her into the stone with his body, enjoying the tasty hint of friction. The cheeky part of his personality decided to come forward again as he tilted his head with a cocky grin.

            “Hades?”

            “Yes?” He heard the voice before he felt him. The king, Hades, was against his back, caging both him and Persephone to the wall. The sprout of fear was now a small plant of panic. He’d never believed (as far as he remembered) calling the name of the king of the dead would truly summon him. Turns out he was wrong.

            “It’s rude to call someone without a reason.” Hades’ voice was husky in his ear, his beard tickling the skin along Siromos’ neck. Persephone stared at the two of them with heat in her eyes, her lips parted slightly, her chest moving against his with the increased pace of her breathing. The combination of Hades’ voice and Persephone’s eyes had Siromos on the verge of spewing in his pants.

            Then Hades pressed closer to his back, and Siromos felt the evidence of the king’s arousal. He couldn’t help it, really. He was overcome and suddenly cumming hard. Wave after wave hit him and then, blissed out, he promptly fainted.