They fought, as usual, with fist and head and any thing that came to hand. As usual, neither won, just measured their success by the number of hits that actually got through. Thump, smack, wallop.
And then, he changed the rules: the dammed bastard took his face between his hands, and kissed him.
It was nothing like he had imagined. Sometimes, when his mind had pushed itself into a corner, raging and frustrated with his thoughts, he had succumbed to fantasy and imagined this, and more. But he hadn't known how he'd react, what he would feel.
Well, now he knew. His hated brother's kiss melted him from the inside out, and he opened hungrily to the questing tongue, desire burning like acid through his veins as his body pressed forward, eager for more. He felt their sweaty flesh cling and merge, and realized he had dismissed their clothes with his desire.
He sought his brother's cock and fisted hard, hot flesh jumping and weeping with pleasure as he swept his hand up and down its thick, meaty length. His own cock clamored for contact and he grabbed his brother's hand twining it with his own, forming a broader tunnel that would accommodate both cocks. Exquisite pain-pleasure as he squeezed hard and felt their callused fingers roughly rubbing their tender flesh. It was the best sex he could remember having, and it was his bastard brother who made him feel like this. Damn.
He broke the kiss, his face sliding along the smooth cheek to bury itself in the honey-colored hair.
"Shit--shit." He groaned, shuddering all over, letting himself go helplessly.
He butted his head against his brother's broad shoulder, sucking on the damp skin that called to him and made him ache all over with uncontrolled hunger. His nipples tightened, hard and fast, blood-gorged skin chafing on rough chest hair.
"Hurry--damn you." He grated, not recognizing the harsh plea of his own voice. He was rutting mindlessly into their double fist, their slick cocks welded together as they moved faster, and harder, his balls already drawing up, and he lunged forward with the end in sight.
There was nothing between them except sweet friction and furry, slick, muscled flesh. Fevered blue eyes stared into his own, blazing with the drugging pull of lust, and he surged forward, gluing their mouths together again in a frenzied kiss.
He grew more frantic at his brother's rising cries, feeling each one like a spark of fire flaring inside his bursting cock. And then he exploded with a shout muzzled by his brother's mouth, who clutched at him and came, rubbing their bodies together with nasty, glorious force.
They slumped together on the soft earth, legs and arms tangled, not ready to withdraw and bare themselves to the cool air and each other's gaze.
"Shit." Said Ares, dazed. "Shit."
"Yep." Hercules sounded happy.
Finally, they came apart, disentangling reluctant bodies and helping each other up, careful to avoid eye contact.
In a moment they were once more dressed, Ares nonchalantly sweeping imaginary dust from impeccable black leathers.
"You know, I'd be up for that again."
Ares shot his brother a quick look and was trapped by the gleaming blue eyes.
"OK." Ares touched him on the jaw, a caress born of impulse, then cleared his throat and murmured,
"So this means," Ares frowned, "What does it mean?"
Hercules shrugged. "Don't know, haven't thought about it yet."
Ares looked away into the distance then back again.
"I'd like to do that again too."
"Next time you mean?"
Ares shrugged noncommittally. "Whenever."
"OK then, until next time."
They looked at each other and laughed at the senselessness of it, all of it.
"Guess we should probably get out of here." Hercules suggested. "I'm meeting Iolaus down there." pointing at the crossroads further down the road.
"I got a bunch of brainless warlords to supervise, you know how it is."
"Yeah, I know. Well...until next time."
"Right. Later then."
They turned away, a certain furtiveness coloring their movements, as well as a lingering shiver of excitement from their act. For the rules had changed, and nothing would ever be the same.