A Little of What He Wanted
By Semiramis

This story is set sometime during ‘Reunion', after Ares and Hercules have
had their fight over Zeus.

Hercules found Ares standing amidst the rubble of what once had been a village inn.  Ares was looking far from his usual immaculate self.  His black leathers were dusty, and in some places ripped.  His sable hair hung over his face, and there was a cut on his mouth, swelling the already full lips.  Ares was slowly licking at the wound, an abstracted expression on his face.  Hercules smiled a tight little smile.  /So, brother.  Finally coming to grips with the fact that now that I'm a god too,  I can whip your ass even harder than I did before?/

"You never give up, do you, Ares?"  Hercules said, folding his arms.  "If you find a new depth, you just have to sink to it."

"Got your attention, though, didn't it?"  Ares' pink tongue continued to swirl over his cut lip as he stared across at his brother and flashed a shameless grin.

Hercules wished he'd stop doing that, and tidy himself up.  There was something disturbingly provocative about the way Ares' busy tongue flicked delicately across his lips, sampling his own blood as if it was a fine wine. Something faintly ... erotic?  He gave himself a quick mental slap.    /No, Herk, you don't want to go there ...   This is Ares, remember?/   "Yes, it got my attention."

"And it was ... good for you, too, wasn't it?"  Ares lowered his voice to a soft throaty purr and took a step closer to him.

Hercules tried to get his breathing back under control.  This close up he could smell the hot musky scent of the god, and it seemed to be playing havoc with his newly awakened divine senses.  At least, that was the most rational explanation Hercules could come up with right now.  /What are you playing at, Ares?  This looks almost like a seduction./  "So you enjoyed our little scrap, did you?"

"Oh yes.  Quite a warm-up routine you got there, Hercules.  And now that I'm nicely warmed up how about we play some more?"  Ares had moved in so close now that if Hercules had reached out a hand he would have touched his chest, his fingers brushing the mat of damp dark hair in the vee of Ares' leather vest ....  Hercules took a quick sharp breath in confusion, aware of a sudden heat in his groin and trying to clear his head of the unwelcome images that had filled his mind.  It didn't work.  What in Tartarus was wrong with him?  Was this some curious side-effect of being a god?  A sudden surge of lust for his half-brother, and enemy?

Then Ares touched him, one hard finger tracing a surprisingly delicate path down his jawline, and Hercules felt like he'd been hit by one of Zeus' thunderbolts.  He actually staggered slightly.  The only part of his anatomy not left reeling by that touch was his cock; he could feel it swell and throb against his pants with an eagerness that both horrified and excited him still further.  Ares leant forward, his eyes dark and fiery as coals, his breath a hot caress on Hercules' face.  "Are you ready to play some more, brother?"

"You want to fuck me," Hercules said, trying to remember how to breathe.  It wasn't easy, not with Ares up this close and coming onto him like a predatory whore trying to pick up a trick.  And not when his own traitorous body was making his interest plain.  Ares had noticed that, of course; his gaze dipped to Hercules' groin and back up, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his lips.

"Not quite.  I want *you* to fuck *me*," he purred back.

Now that *was* unexpected.  So unexpected that Hercules was reduced to gaping at him like a shocked virgin.  "Why?" he managed at last, trying desperately to control the images of Ares his over-heated imagination was providing him with.  Ares, naked in front of him.  Proud Ares, on his hands and knees, his ass raised like a bitch on heat, begging Hercules to rut him like an animal ...   The images should have repulsed, only they didn't. Hercules could feel his heart hammering like the beat of a drum, his flesh throbbing in response to each heady pulse.  This was wrong.  This was perverse.  He didn't want to do this.  Oh but he did ...

"Why?"  Ares raised his eyebrows and looked amused at the question. "Because you can, of course.  You're a god now, in case you'd forgotten. You're strong enough to take me, and I want you to do it."

/But you hate me.  And I hate you.  Mutual loathing.  Not much of a basis for a lovers' tryst, is it?/  Hercules thought wildly.  Although as the God of War was unlikely to get off on hearts and flowers, violence was no doubt inherent all his relationships.  So maybe this combination wasn't so bizarre for Ares after all, but on the other hand it damn well was for Hercules. Bizarre, and wildly, horribly arousing.

"Right here?" he asked, disbelievingly.  There were people watching, some from windows, or from around corners.  Braver souls who were curious enough to risk their lives in order to spy on the gods.  Right now they weren't entirely sure what to make of what they were seeing.  Hercules didn't blame them.  He wasn't entirely sure either.  Not that the idea of he and Ares indulging in a public fuck was any more crazy than the rest of it.  The part of his mind still capable of coherent thought couldn't believe that Ares was seriously inviting Hercules to fuck him ... and it was having even more trouble with the idea that in some deep, dark recess there existed a side to Hercules that was eager to accept the invitation, with or without watchers.

Ares shrugged.  "Do you object to an audience?"

"Don't you?" Hercules countered, unwillingly diverted into trying to decide if the prospect of being watched in the act was one that revolted him, or one that excited him still further.  /This is a mistake, Herc.  A big mistake./  He shouldn't be drawn into discussing this with Ares like it was a perfectly reasonable idea.  For the sake of his sanity, he should just get right out of here before that wildly perverse side he didn't know existed until today took even more of a hold of him than it already had.  Only .... "I wouldn't have thought you'd want any witnesses to your ... weakness."

"Then I guess that proves you don't know me nearly as well as you think. And are you so sure that this is about *my* weakness?  I rather thought it was about *yours*, dear brother."  As he spoke, Ares cupped one hand round Hercules' ass and ground both their hips together in one swift, powerful movement.

Hercules could feel the hard pulsing power of Ares' cock as it throbbed against his own and was totally unable to prevent himself from a quick gasp of mingled shock and desire.  /I don't want this.  Yes I do ... /

"After all, you have just talked yourself into agreeing to fuck me,"  Ares breathed hotly in his ear.   Then the lush mouth widened in a wickedly feral grin.  "I just love verbal foreplay, don't you?"  He didn't wait for an answer but pulled Hercules into a rough embrace, latching his hungry mouth onto Hercules' own and snaking his strong tongue between his brother's astonished lips and teeth before he could think how to react.

Hercules passed the point of no return before he even knew there was one, let alone that he'd reached it.  Ares' open mouth was welded to his in fierce impatience, his lips wet and slippery with blood and saliva, his hot tongue invasive and insistent.  Hercules groaned under the assault as each lightning sensation ignited another in a dazzling chain reaction, leaving him frantic with desire.  Without any hesitation at all he responded with a counter-attack of his own.  He twisted his fingers in Ares' dark curls and violently forced his own way into Ares' open mouth, counterpointing each attempt the god made for possession, matching thrust for thrust, touch for touch.  Kissing was way too tame a word to describe what he and Ares were doing to each other ... he had never known kisses this fevered and aggressive, arousing desires in him he had no idea he even possessed.  He wanted ... he wanted ....

Somehow Ares' hand had found its way inside Hercules' pants, and was roughly caressing his turgid cock.  Hercules groaned at the fierce feel of those aggressive male fingers sliding over his aching flesh.  He wanted .... /I want to feel those lips, that clever tongue and hot mouth on my cock./  Oh how he wanted it!  Panting with desire, he tore his mouth away from Ares and without so much as a by-your-leave shoved the god's head down to his groin. The crudeness of the demand he was making ought to have horrified Hercules; on some level it still did, but that sane, reasonable part of himself had lost this battle when Ares kissed him and Hercules no longer heard its outraged protests.

Ares' deft hands unfastened Hercules' pants and began to free his erection but Hercules disposed of his restrictive clothing with an impatient thought so that his freed cock sprang up in Ares' face, demanding immediate attention.  Seemingly responsive to his need, Ares knelt before him like a willing supplicant before a priest, his hands rubbing lightly down Hercules' ass.  But then he dipped his head and turned it to one side so that he could stroke his dark curls against Hercules' balls and the underside of his cock in a silky, maddening caress that seemed to last forever.

Hercules growled deep in his throat, his awakened need too raw and fierce to appreciate this sort of sweet torment.  With the palm of his hand, he shoved hard against Ares' shoulder.  Caught by surprise, the god sprawled flat on his back in the dirt, a look of shock darting through his eyes.  /You didn't plan for this, did you, Ares?/  Quick as a flash, Hercules straddled him, pinning him still with a knee at each side of his shoulders.

"Suck me," he ordered, the rational part of him appalled to hear himself issue such an order.  He sounded like the Sovereign.  Fuck it, he *felt* like the Sovereign.  For the first time in his adult life he had thrown over all the rules, all the limits, all the taboos.  This wasn't just about lust; it was about power, about control.  He'd had deluded himself all these years into thinking he appreciated what those concepts meant.  Now he truly understood them for the first time.  He could do anything, have anything ... anything at all.  Whatever inhibitions still lingered in his mind were now about to be well and truly discarded.  "You know damn well what I want, Ares.  Put your mouth around my cock and suck me."

"Oh my!  I have created a monster!" Ares' lips curved in a dark smile, obviously still amused in spite of the uncomfortable position he was now placed in.  "A monster in my own image.  How perfect!  Welcome to godhood, Hercules."

"Welcome to *this*, Ares."  Hercules took hold his swollen cock in one hand and pushed it into the god's grinning face.

Without missing a beat, Ares accepted it, fastening his lips round the weeping head and sucking Hercules' massive cock slowly into his mouth as if it was the most welcome of gifts.  His dark mocking eyes never left Hercules ' face, as if daring his brother to back down.  Hercules took up the challenge without a second thought, pressing his cock in deeper between those ripe lips.  Suddenly Ares was no longer entirely in control and he knew it.  His body twisted uneasily, his eyes signaling his discomfort as he was forced to deep-throat Hercules, but he made no attempt to avoid it. Quite the opposite.  When Hercules' balls were brushing up against the bristles of Ares' beard, Ares' tongue began to swirl round the cock in his mouth in a series of teasing, tormenting strokes.  Hercules, shaking with lust, twisted his fingers hard in Ares' hair to hold his head still and began to fuck that wickedly beautiful mouth.

Sensation engulfed Hercules, so bright, so violent that it flamed through every nerve ending like liquid fire.  He could feel every touch as he never had before ... the warm wetness that wrapped his cock, the light graze of teeth as he jerked himself in and out; the rasp of Ares' beard against his tightening balls.  His hips pounded in furious rhythm, thrusting his cock deeper and deeper down Ares' throat with increasing wildness and violence over and over again until his body spasmed and he was howling his release to the skies.  Nothing in his life had ever felt as intense as this.  Cold reason made a feeble attempt to reassert itself but was swept aside in the thick, sticky sweetness of his triumph and glory as his seed shot from him.

Hercules pulled himself free and leaned back on his haunches, keeping Ares pinned on the ground under him, his breathing slowing and returning to normal.  His cock was still twitching, leaking drops of semen over Ares' face.  Sprawled awkwardly in the dirt, Ares coughed a little, then swallowed convulsively, creamy dribbles of Hercules' seed trickling from the corners of his mouth to rest glistening on his beard.  His eyes were closed, his expression unreadable.

"Was it good for you, too?"  Hercules whispered, leaning forward.

Ares opened his eyes, looking considerably less assured than he had done before - although a certain raw heat in his gaze suggested that he was far from wanting this finished.  His voice was a degree or two huskier than usual when he spoke.  "Why, Hercules.  You surprise me.  I never knew you had it in you .... such violence, such passion!"

"Sometimes I surprise even myself."  /Too fucking right I do.  I can't believe what I just .../  But he could.  And he hadn't finished yet. Hercules pulled Ares' head up towards his and raked his tongue over Ares' bruised lips, tasting himself there with a quiver of pleasure.  Then he took the full bottom lip between his teeth and bit down.  Ares groaned deep in his throat and let his mouth fall open under the assault, allowing Hercules suck up the juices he'd yet to swallow.  The coppery taste of blood mixed with his own semen excited Hercules.  He could feel his cock begin to rise again.

"Fuck me," Ares hissed into his mouth.  "Fuck me.  That's what we agreed."

"When I'm good and ready," Hercules breathed back, drunk with power and knowledge of his own control over it.  Ares was still clothed and still unsatiated, the black leather stretched so tight across his swollen cock that it appeared to be in danger of splitting at the seams.  It looked like he was so hot for him he'd do any damn thing Hercules asked.  So ... /Wildest fantasy time, Herc./  And this one was so wild he didn't even know he owned it.  Until now.

"Jerk off for me," Hercules ordered fiercely.  He stood up, dragging Ares over and onto his knees.  "And if it turns me on enough, you'll get your reward."  Hercules stripped Ares of his clothes with a quick thought, and began stalking impatiently around the kneeling and now naked god.  "Do it, Ares.  Now."

Ares stared up at him incredulously for a moment, as if unable to believe such an order was really being issued to him, the God of War.  Then he shrugged and smiled, a slow lascivious smile of willing capitulation, and took the stiff length of his cock in one hand, rubbing his strong fingers deftly up and down the pulsing blue vein that marbled the thick shaft.  His other hand reached between his legs to cup his balls, gently caressing the fullness and weight of them.  Hercules watched in fascination, his mouth suddenly dry.  It should have been a humilating act, a shameful act he was forcing the god to perform for him, but Ares evidently didn't regard it as such.  His head was thrown back, his lips parted, his eyes glazed with self-absorption as he masturbated for his brother's amusement.

Nor was Hercules his only audience.  Others had crept a little closer - more than a few clearly aroused themselves by the spectacle of a god pleasuring himself with such wanton abandon before their very eyes.  Ares' hips jerked up and down in a quick tempo, moving to the rhythm set by his hand as it greedily pumped at his shaft.  Then he moved the other hand over to the swollen head of his cock, swirling his index finger in the juices he'd milked, and began to moan, a full-throated purr of ecstasy.

Excited by the display Ares was providing, Hercules took up a position in front of him, his own cock now splayed rigid against his belly, and leaned in closer.  The scent of heat and sex that rose from the god's body was intoxicating as his fingers stimulated his engorged cock.  Entranced, Hercules licked his warm, wet tongue down the curve of Ares' shoulder over the sweat-beaded dark fur on his chest until he reached a hard nubbed nipple.  Then he took the sensitive bud gently between his teeth and flicked at it with his tongue.  Ares gasped, and his busy hand moved faster, more frantically than ever over his reddening cock.  Hercules could feel Ares' hot breath against his neck, his breathing harsh and ragged as he neared orgasm.  *Now*.  Hercules sank his teeth into the tender nipple.  And Ares arched his back, shuddering and crying out, his hips jerking wildly as he came.  His milky seed splattered Hercules' face in thick strands as he leaned forward, batting Ares' hands away and closing his own round Ares' pulsing cock.  When his hands were covered, Hercules began to coat his own cock with the warm juices.  With his free hand, he shoved Ares back onto the ground so that he was lying face up.

Ares' hair clung in damp dark tendrils round his contorted face and his eyes were tight-closed as he writhed in the dirt, the last few moments of his orgasm still rippling through him.  His chest and belly were glossy with semen; blood trickled from one nipple.  Hercules smiled and crouched between Ares' legs.  Slowly he pushed the god's knees further apart and cupped Ares' ass in his big hands, kneading the firm flesh.  Then he splayed his fingers and spread Ares' buttocks apart, ducking his head and licking an exploratory tongue in lazy circles over the ring of puckered flesh he'd revealed.  Ares jerked his hips and gasped, opening his eyes wide in feverish anticipation. "Fuck me ... yesyesyes."

Hercules lifted his head, replacing his tongue with two of his semen-slick fingers, sliding them slowly in and out of Ares' tight anus until the god was squirming in lust and thrusting back up at him.  "Then let me hear you beg for it, Ares.  Let everyone hear you beg for it."

"Fuck me ... please ... "  Ares' cock was beginning to rise again from the tangle of dark curls.  Hercules lowered his head slightly and blew gently at the over-stimulated flesh.  Ares yelped, and his hips bucked.

"I didn't hear that.  Louder."

"Pleasepleaseplease ... I want you to fuck me ... *now*!"

"Oh but you really are a whore, aren't you Ares?"  Hercules mocked, removing his fingers and rubbing the glistening head of his cock against the anal opening.  "The Whore God, spreading his legs and begging for a fuck."

"Don't pretend it doesn't turn you on, Hercules,"  Ares snarled.  "You're loving this, aren't you?"

"Damn right I am," Hercules confirmed, baring his own teeth in a smile scarcely less smug than one of Ares' own trademark smirks.  Then with one powerful jerk of his hips he stabbed the first few inches of his cock inside the god's slippery anus.

"Oh fuck ... yes .... *harder*!"  Ares shuddered and his hands dug into the dirt at his sides, his hips arching upwards, his legs spreading even further apart, desperate to be filled with every last inch of hard cock.  Then he sank his teeth into his bloodied lower lip in an agony of relief as Hercules obligingly resumed his penetration.

Hercules felt the ring of clenched muscle opening up for him as he shoved his cock in deeper.  He responded by clasping his hands round Ares' waist, pulling the god further onto his shaft each time he plundered another inch of the ripe body.  Ares urged him on, gloriously vocal, moaning with ecstasy as Hercules' cock hit his prostate and began to stroke a steady rhythm inside him.  He flung one hand up to milk his own cock in tandem with Hercules' thrusts, the damp black curls of his hair dripping sweat into his flushed face.  Hercules fucked him with all the strength at his disposal, enraptured by Ares' transformation from all-powerful god to this greedy individual who writhed on his cock.  But Ares was neither pliant nor passive under him; he dueled like a wild stallion with his rider, his hips bucking and twisting upwards with such passion and fury that no mere mortal could ever have tamed him to submission.

Ah gods ....  Pleasure blazed through every nerve in Hercules' body like the mindless heat of a forest fire, bright and burning, gilding every movement in flame.  He and Ares fitted together like that was the way it was meant to be.  Half brothers, mirror images, finally became one.  Raw power, unfettered by any restraint, mortal or godly, guided them both inexorably towards a final conflagration.

Mouth open, panting hard, Hercules thrust more wildly, his cock jerking in frenzy up and down the sweet constricted heat of Ares' passage.  He tried to slow his pace, wanting to prolong the moment into eternity, but Ares was having none of it.  His free hand gripped round Hercules' hip so tightly that blood welled under the nails.  Gasping in pain/pleasure, Hercules locked his gaze on Ares' lust-ravaged face as if he was seeing it properly for the first time.  /Fuck, you're beautiful, and I never even noticed it until now./  Ares stared back at him.  His eyelids were half-closed, the dark eyes - not completely dark after all, but shot through with shards of amber and gold - glittered with feverish intensity, his teeth gnawing at his bloodied lower lip as his orgasm neared.  Then with a final incoherent shriek Ares convulsed under Hercules, anointing them both with his hot seed as it spurted from under his shaking hand.

Hercules rode Ares for a few final exquisite strokes to his own completion, until with a furious and utterly out of control pounding of his hips he ejaculated into the still thrashing body under him, screaming his release with a full-throated cry of rapture.

All the heat and violence drained from him in that last incredible surge of lust.  Hercules slumped forward in satiated exhaustion, resting his head across the broad chest under him.  The chest lifted and fell rapidly under his cheek and semen welded itself stickily to his skin, muskily pungent in his nostrils.  Hercules could have banished this physical evidence of their love-making had he the slightest impulse.  He didn't.  Instead he closed his eyes and breathed it deeply, savoring the scent of his lover.

Even through shuttered eyes he registered a sudden change in their surroundings.  There was no dirt beneath their bodies now, only cool springy grass.  Branches rustled greenly above his head, stirred by the breath of a slight breeze.  A woodland glade?  Hercules opened his eyes a fraction and found he'd guessed correctly.  They were alone now, and although he'd long since stopped caring about their audience - /we're gods; do they really expect us to be bound by their petty little morals?/ - he found himself welcoming the seclusion of this new environment.

Either of them could have dispensed with this state of post-coital languor with a mere thought, but there was something profoundly pleasurable in this unhurried recovery.  Hercules felt his accelerated heartbeat began to slow and regulate, even as the one twinned to his own did, the sweat and semen cooling on both their bodies.  Then a warm hand came up to rest in the small of his back, stroking the skin softly.  Gentle fingers smoothed through his damp hair, playing with the fine silky strands, and bearded lips teased and tugged at his earlobe.  Hercules relaxed in the blissful sense of peace, luxuriating in being at ease with his lover.

His lover.  *Ares*.

/Oh gods, what am I doing?/

Reason finally reasserted itself with a scream of denial in his mind, and with a gasp of loathing Hercules rolled over onto his side, breaking the loving embrace.  /Loving?  This was Ares, remember, - cruel, manipulative Ares, who knew nothing of love apart from how he could use it to achieve his own sordid ends./  This had not been a demonstration of love, only its twisted reflection.  Hercules drew himself up onto his knees, unable to look at Ares, sickened by the musky heat that rose from the god's body.  He swallowed convulsively as bile surged up in his throat.  Ares stank of blood, sweat and semen, his own and ... /my own.  Oh gods .... what have I done here?/

"Herc?"  A lazy query, a hand lightly stroking down his arm in a grotesque parody of affection.  Hercules jerked away from it like he'd been struck, unable to tolerate the touch and all the dreadful awareness of their intimacy it stirred in him.

"Get off me!"  Hercules struggled to keep his voice level.  /How could I have done this?/

The memories were tumbling over themselves now, racing eagerly to be the first into Hercules' newly awakened consciousness, and reveal to him the full horror of what he'd done.  They spared him nothing, and he flinched visibly at each fresh recollection, heat rising in his face.  *Desiring Ares, kissing those perfect, poisonous lips ... ramming his rock-hard cock into that cruelly sweet mouth ... watching in perverted pleasure as the dark god took his own engorged cock in his hand, jerking off in front of him ... and fucking Ares, tormenting and teasing and finally claiming that beautiful, vile body as his ...*  Ultimate corruption.  The scrupulous hero become a violent, greedy abuser.  Ares had tempted and Hercules had fallen, surrendering utterly to the dark desire that had wakened in him.  The stark truth was that he had betrayed his own morality as easily as snapping the stem of a flower.

"Something wrong?"  Ares' voice was calmly quizzical.  When he put one hand on Hercules' ass, stroking the taut flesh with his callused fingertips, Hercules could control himself no longer.  With a muffled oath, he spun round and caught Ares' wrist in one hand.  Ares stared up at him, a near perfect look of bemusement on his face.  His lips were swollen, the lower lip still rimed with scarlet blood; black curls framed his flushed face in a wild tangle; his eyes, dark and sensual, surveyed Hercules appraisingly from under thick-fringed lashes.  Then he smiled invitingly, shifting his free hand up to cup Hercules' face.

"You... sick... perverted... bastard."  Hercules ground the words out one at a time, knocking that hateful hand aside, his eyes blazing raw heat and fury into Ares' own.  "I ought to break your neck.  You know damn well what's wrong."

Ares stared back up at him, for a moment caught wordless.  Some fierce emotion flashed deep his eyes, so swift and bright that it hurt to look on. Then, like lightning in a summer storm, it vanished almost immediately, leaving nothing to mark its passing.  Abruptly emptied of all expression, Ares' face momentarily resembled nothing more than a beautiful sculpted mask.  Then those darkly seductive lips curved into a more familiar malicious grin.  "It's a little late for scruples, don't you think?"

"What did you do to me?"  Hercules hissed, fighting back the urge to strike the smile from that insolent mouth.

"Isn't it more a case of what did you do to me?  You fucked *me*, as I recall," Ares reminded him with an audible purr of pleasure at the memory. He stretched his cramped body, deliberately turning what should have been a simple action into a studied sensual performance.  "It was quite ... divine! All that boundless energy of yours at last put to a worthwhile use!"

Hercules' hand shot out and closed round Ares' throat, yanking him bodily up from the grass so that the god dangled in his grip like a child's toy.  Ares made no attempt to resist him; he just raised one eyebrow and smiled mockingly.  In disgust, at himself as well as Ares, Hercules threw him down and turned away, shaking with barely controlled rage.

"You knew I wouldn't be able to control my instincts; that someone newly come to godhood couldn't handle the sort of stimuli you were providing; that every dark impulse and fantasy I've had and buried deep would come bubbling back up to the surface and I wouldn't be able to control them."

"Really? Then maybe you shouldn't have buried them so deep.  Maybe you should have brought them out into the cold light of day once or twice and looked at them for what they were.  It might not have hit you so hard if you 'd ever once appreciated what you were capable of being.  You should've gotten a good idea when you saw the Sovereign - all your worst impulses given their own life - but even then you ignored it.  All I did was free your innermost thoughts and desires.  Come on, Hercules!  What's to be horrified about?  For once in your life you faced me without relying on reason, and acted on instinct.  You should be thanking me for the insight."

"Thanking you?  I don't believe I'm hearing this.  You actually imagine I want to *thank* you for what you just did?  Your egotism astounds me, Ares."

"And your weasel-words offend *me*, brother.  You were so fucking *hot* for me, and now all you want to do is pretend it never happened.  Have you any idea how *sickening* it is listening to you trying to squirm your way out of any responsibility for your own actions?"

Ares had quite clearly stopped being amused, and Hercules seized on this abrupt change of mood like the lifeline to sanity it was.  An angry Ares he could deal with; he knew how that Ares behaved and what to expect.  A seductive Ares was another matter entirely.  None of their previous encounters had established any ground rules for this particular mutation, and how could he adequately formulate a defense when he now knew that there was some perverted part of him that actually wanted ....  /*No*!  Don't even *contemplate* looking at that again, Herc.  Not wise.  Not safe.  Think tactics, dammit!/  He forced himself to turn around and face the god again, watching as Ares rose to his feet in a single convulsive movement, his eyes flashing fire.

"You got what you wanted," Hercules told him, his expression and voice deliberately impassive.  "Let's leave it at that."

"Get real, Hercules!" Ares snarled back.  "It was what *you* wanted!  I did you a favor by shattering that holier than thou facade you insist on presenting to the world.  I showed you what it *really* meant to be a god. And what we could be together."

"Oh, you showed me that, Ares.  We could rule the world, right?  And when we were finished presiding over blood and carnage, then we could slake our depraved lusts on each other and whoever else we cared to have."

"Exactly.  I still can't believe you're turning down such an opportunity."

"I know you can't.  But that's your problem."  Hercules took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind.  Then he cleansed himself of all traces of their sexual activities with a single decisive thought and dressed himself with another.  He immediately felt more in control of the situation, as if the assumption of clothing somehow provided him with a moral highground from which to look down on his brother.  "Stop playing games, Ares, and get some clothes on."

"Why?  Does my nakedness arouse you?"  Ares licked the crusted blood from his lips with a pink moist tongue, whilst one hand dropped to his cock, stroking deliberately down the thick flaccid shaft, coaxing it to fresh tumescence.  It was a last ditch attempt by Ares to regain the momentum he'd lost, Hercules knew that.  And as last ditch attempts went, it was damn effective.  To his horror, Hercules felt his own cock twitch in response and it took every shred of strength he possessed to put a stranglehold on the dark desire that began to rise inside him.  /If this is a god thing, then Zeus can take back my divinity.  I want none of it./

"That sordid trick won't work twice, not now I've come to my senses.  You don't turn me on, Ares.  You disgust me."  He forced his expression into one of revulsion and Ares wasn't quite quick enough to mask his look of dismay. Hercules had the satisfaction of knowing he'd scored a direct hit on the weakest link of the chain in which Ares sought to bind him; the god's overweening pride simply couldn't handle rejection.  Now all he had to do was kick hard whilst Ares was off balance and he could finish this once and for all.  "You might have won a battle, Ares, but you've lost the war because I am *not* going to let myself be corrupted again by your twisted little games.  It's over."

The god's hands dropped impotently to his sides, clenching into fists of frustration, his incipient erection vanishing.  His eyes were black pits of thwarted fury as they met Hercules' unwavering gaze.  "Oh no, Hercules, you' re so wrong.  It's not over till I say it's over."

They stared at each other. Half brothers, mirror images, caught once more in conflict and opposition to each other.  One clothed, the other naked; one tawny-haired and light, the other black-maned and dark; one triumphant, the other defeated, his little victory turned suddenly to choking ashes in his mouth.  Alike now only in their pride and stubbornness, each waited for the other to back down as the moment expanded into an empty sad wasteland between them.

It was Ares who ended the confrontation, flaring out of time and place in a blinding bolt of blue energy.  But his final parry was deliberately aimed to follow a few seconds after his dramatic departure.

A dark fiery voice seared its way into Hercules' mind, burning with threat - or promise:

"Like you said, Hercules: I never give up."

The End