The Forsaken
By Chris
Iolaus stands alone in the dark, the last thing he remembers is seeing the face of his friend as the cold blade of the knife lay buried in his chest. Now he is here, and it is dark....he can see nothing. His heart thumps in his chest wildy and he places his hand over it. ~Does a dead man's heart really beat with fear, do the dead even fear?~


The hunter turns to the sound of his name, a figure is coming out of the dark, becoming clearer, Ares. "What's wrong little man, lost?"

"I don't know where I am."

"You're dead."

Iolaus looks around him. "I know that, but where am I? Where is Hades? I don't know what to do. Where is Hercules?"

Ares smiles. "Your Hercules is off feeling sorry for himself. He blames himself for you death. And like every other time when tragedy hits his life, he goes off into a sulk. Come now Iolaus, it was this way when his family died. He turned  his back on everyone and went off to feel sorry for himself."

Iolaus blinks his eyes and Ares is gone. "Ares!"

"Right here Iolaus." A firm hand touches his shoulder from behind. "I am here." The hunter finds comfort in the smooth voice, the large hand that rests on his shoulder. He leans back against the god's chest. "You mean he just left me here? Where is he?"

Ares wraps his arms about the hunter holding him close and whispers in his ear. "He has gone away. Even now he is helping a new people......... finding a new lover."

"A new lover!"

"Yes, even now he lays with her in his arms. The arms that use to hold you, the hands that made love to you, the mouth........"


The smooth voice becomes lower. "Would you like me to show you?"

"No, I don't want to see, I can't see!" His small body shakes as the god takes him into his arms. "He forgot me Ares.....just left me here......I am forsaken!"

"No Iolaus, I am here for you...........never will you be forsaken again."

Ares catches his face in his hands. His mouth slants and covers the hunter's as his fingers grip his golden hair.   Iolaus opens his lips and Ares' tongue slips between them. Iolaus loses himself in the passion.

Mindless with desire, Iolaus relinquishes himself to the fire that Ares has set to burning in him. He no longer cares about what is right and wrong, he only feels.

The god already knows where to touch him, how to caress him to arouse him to a fever pitch. No longer afraid of the dark he clings to the larger man. Ares smiles and wills them to a secret bedchamber. He has waited to long for this, he will not take the hunter on some cold ground, not when a bed is so close.

Laying the hunter on the soft bed, Ares  revels in his power as a man, and now uses that power to pleasure and not enslave. He wants Iolaus to offer himself freely.

The hunter's taste is wonderful, it is dark, ripe and sweet. Iolaus feels as if he is on fire as Ares cups his buttocks with both hands and presses their bodies together. With every kiss, every touch the hunter is reminded of what he has so long denied himself.

The god's touch makes him weak, desperate with longing. He presses his lips to the god's throat and lays his cheek on the muscled chest. A shudder runs through the larger man's body. "Iolaus."

Slipping his hand down his pants he grips hard god flesh. His mouth moves acorss his throat and cheek to rest at his ear. "I would have you now Ares. I surrender." He nibbles on the god's lower lip. "Willingly," he mutters. Again his lips brush on corner of his mouth. "Now Ares."

The god's moth slants against his and he catches his head in his small hands. "Now Ares."

Stripping off their clothes, Iolaus receives what he so greedily seeks, demands and takes. Opening his legs to Ares, he feels the hardness wet with oil thrust into him. The hardness spits him, fills him. The moment Iolaus recieves him, they are locked into a urgent rhythm driving each other to further heights.

Their bodies are slick with perspiration and slide against each other. Harder and faster Ares pistons into him, as Iolaus wraps himself around the god crying out for more. This is what he has wanted for so long....this is what his dreams were filled with. The hunter is his............ Ares is his.

It is the longing, the desire, the passion that drives them higher and higher until they reach the pinnacle. Both men cry out as wave after wave of release flows through them. Fulfillment shudders through them. Clinging to each other they ride it out.

Ares rolls on his side pulling Iolaus close to him. He runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his small lover's face. "Sleep now Iolaus,  I have you. I will never forsake you." Lightly he kisses the sleeping blond's shoulder and smiles. Let his half brother stay in that far away land. He has what he has always wanted, Iolaus.

The End