Author's note (3 Aug): Edits to the conversation, with ~interesting~ new additions; with also a clearer description of Blaise's beloved Gigantomakhia.

He squeezes his fingers between Thalia’s arm and his throat, sucking in a desperate breath, wheezing: ‘Thalia!’

‘Oops!’ She releases him with an easy laugh, collapsing into the seat next to him.

He rubs his throat, blinking away the tears in his eyes, his mouth filling with saliva, because the sweet musk of rotting apples is heavy in the air. He grimaces: alphas and their ruddy need to spray their scent all over the place. He must be drunker than he thought, his inhibitions so lowered to have such an immediate reaction to an alpha’s scent.

Thalia glances across the table, and her mouth falls open. ‘Hector!’ Her heads whips back around to Blaise. ‘You’ve been drinking with Hector?’

He raises his eyebrows, smirking at the alpha. See? I told you it’ll be easy for me to find out who you are, mate. But Hector does not say anything, still as a statue carved by Greek masters. Well, if it matters to him that people do not know he is a fan of Empire, how could Blaise destroy what could be his happy place?

He says instead: ‘We’ve been talking about how brilliant you were in The Two Queens.’

She laughs, tossing her long brown curls over a shoulder, her smile lighting up the golden-sun glow of her amber skin. ‘What? Why would you be wasting any time on that, when you can finally prattle on about Gigantomakhia to your heart’s content?’

‘Gigantomakhia?’ He shoots Hector a surprised look. ‘You’re a fan too? I thought you might be, with the whole Greek mythology thing.’

‘A fan?’ Thalia echoes, her brows wrinkled. ‘Wait, what do you—wait, do you not know who he is? Have you—you haven’t seen his face.’ She whirls around to face Hector. ‘Wait, does he not know who you are?’

She seems unruffled by the stench of rot in the autumn woods hanging in the air, leaning forward across the table, her face lit up with unadulterated glee and amazement. ‘Holy shit!’ She throws her head back, pealing with laughter at the confusion she sees on Blaise’s face. ‘Oh, this is absolutely fucking brilliant. You have no idea, mate,’ —she is addressing Hector— ‘Blaise is a huge Gigantomakhia nerd, like the biggest bloody nerd you could ever meet. He is going to be demented when he finds out!’

Blaise scowls. He fell into the fandom five years ago, and even now he loves it better than Empire of Chains. Since the movies came out three years ago and made superstars of its previously unknown actors, it is now one of the most successful book and movie franchises in the world.

Quite impossible not to love it: old gods, monsters and shining heroes, in the sprawling world of blue Mediterranean waters and golden roads; the dazzling world-defining battles. Gigantomakhia is an adventure he could escape to again and again, when the real world gets agonisingly mundane.

Once in a while, he gets a comment on his fan Tumblr: 27 and you are still in the fandom? How embarrassing. Don’t you have a life? Or raised eyebrows when people catch sight of the Achilles and Patroclus piece on his thigh. Oh wow. You are one of those fans, eh? But he could never be ashamed of loving something that gives him so much joy.

If this Hector is to judge him for that—well, he is only a stranger he met at a party.

‘Gigantomakhia holds a special place in my heart too,’ Hector tells him.

‘I’ll bet,’ Thalia interrupts, leaning heavily against Blaise, as she giggles uncontrollably.

‘You might as well take off your mask,’ Blaise says, meeting those unreadable dark eyes glinting from behind the mask. ‘It seems our Thalia cannot wait for me to find out.’

‘Oh no, oh no, no, no,’ she exclaims, shaking her head vehemently. ‘No, you mustn’t tell him, Hector. This is so much more fun, isn’t it? Let’s see how long it takes before he figures it out! Do you want to bet on it? It’ll take him a week at least—he always loses at Cluedo. Holy shit, I need to tell Cas.’

She fumbles for her phone, sniggering to herself, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed. Blaise levels her with an unimpressed look, but trying to hold her wavering figure in place is a little too much work for his drink-addled mind; he is well on his way to getting plastered. A glass of water is set in front of him with a thunk.

He looks up to see Hector looming over him, setting a second glass in front of Thalia, who is yammering into her phone, hello? Hello, Cas, you’re not picking up, shit, never mind, you won’t believe who Blaise met—he doesn’t know either, can you fucking believe it.

‘Drink some water,’ the alpha says, his scent now a mellow crackling fire. ‘Do you guys have a ride home?’

‘Cas is picking us up,’ Blaise says, taking a grateful gulp of water. ‘Won’t you just tell me who you are?’

‘I’ve been given explicit instructions not to, I’m afraid,’ Hector chuckles, nodding at Thalia.

Someone shouts his name from the living room. He looks over his shoulder, and from within the shadows of his mask, Blaise sees a clean-shaven, strong jaw. He drops his gaze, heat rising in his cheeks; it feels almost like stealing a peek at the bloke’s underwear. Why should it feel like such a violation?

Maybe because Hector seems so desperate to remain hidden. Who the fuck is he?

‘I have to go,’ the alpha says. ‘But … could I have your number?’

Blaise’s head snaps up. ‘No,’ he blurts, startled. ‘I don’t—no.’

‘Oh.’

They are still for a moment, staring at each other, as Thalia giggles into her phone, as the party hums around them, as someone calls for Hector again.

‘I—’ Hector raises his hand, drops it ineffectually. ‘Alright then. I’m sorry—no, I’m not trying to—I’m only happy to meet another Empire fan in real life, you know? And I thought it would be nice if we could continue talking about it, as—as friends, of course. I’m not trying to—’ He cuts himself off, looking over his shoulder again even though no one has called his name. ‘Well, I should—I need to go. It was—it was nice meeting you, Blaise.’

And he disappears into the crowd without a backward glance. Blaise stares dumbly after him, still holding the glass of water the alpha has told him to drink up. Thalia spots her glass, and picks it up, drinking noisily.

‘Lord, I’m thirsty. Cas is coming to get us. Where did Hector go? Did you give him your number? What do you mean, no? Hector asked for your number, and you said no? Bloody hell, mate!’ She screeches with hilarity. ‘Lord, this night is getting better and better. Hector asked for your number, and you said no!’