(Un)Hard Times
By Toridon

The king felt a thud in his stomach, a rather unpleasant thud.  "Excuse me?"

Discord rolled her eyes seductively.  "I said I want you."

Iphicles stood up slowly and moved away from the dining table.  I need this, he thought cynically.  On top of everything else, this is the fucking icing.  The dedication of Ares' new temple, which was to serve as morale fodder for the upcoming war, and the war itself, had exacerbated Corinth's already numerous financial problems almost to the breaking point, and he was still trying to mend the fences damaged two years ago by the Golgoth incident.  And while Discord's intervention, at Ares' direction, had substantially eased the burden of organizing the gala that was planned for the dedication of the temple, her attitude had almost caused a revolt among the workmen she took such pleasure in browbeating and ridiculing.

He eased the scowling lines in his face into a slight smile before turning back to her.

"Discord, I'm flattered.  But I would be doing you a disservice.  There's no worse lover than a man with shoddy concentration.  And with everything going on   You deserve better, my dear."

She laughed, deep circles of heat emblazoning her pale face.  "Let me worry about what I deserve.  I'll take my chances, Iphicles."  She pressed her body against him, slipping her hand inside his silk shirt and drawing his mouth down to hers.

He suffered the kiss for a few seconds before carefully peeling her away from him.  "This is an immense compliment, as I said, but "

"Yes, it is," she said huskily.  "I am a goddess, after all.  You may be a king, but you're still a mortal.  Now come here."  She moved toward him again.

"Discord.  No."  He sidestepped her grasping hands, hoping, for both their sakes, that Ares wasn't watching this.

"Iphicles.  Yes."  A slim arm slid toward him and she effortlessly grasped the collar of his shirt and pulled him to her.  "You see, I simply won't take no for an answer."

His patience, always in limited supply, evaporated completely, and he shoved her roughly away.  "Won't take no for an answer?"  He snorted derisively.  "You've got to be kidding.  What are you going to do, chase me around the table and rape me?"

"Is this your way of playing hard to get, baby?"

He stared at her with disbelief.  "I'm not playing hard to get.  I'm playing impossible to get."  Then the ludicrousness of the situation got to him, and he started to laugh.  "I'm not interested.  Flattered, I guess," he added, negligently tossing her that sop, "but definitely not interested."

"You'd better stop laughing, king.  How DARE you turn me down!"

"Look," he said caustically, "I appreciate your wanting me.  But it isn't mutual.  It certainly isn't smart, under the circumstances.  And frankly," he said tightly, "you're beautiful, but you're just not my type."  He took a deep breath, fighting for control against his anger, and stormed toward the door.

"You know," she hissed, "even Ares hesitates to turn me down.  You might want to think about that."

"Fine.  Then go fuck Ares."  He slammed the door behind him.

"If I don't get any," she whispered ominously to the empty room, "neither do YOU, king."

* * *

Iphicles woke slowly, stretching luxuriously between the satin sheets.  He glanced toward the slit in the drapes, gauging it to be full light, and rose quickly from the bed.  He had no time to be sleeping late, not with everything on the agenda for today.  Too tired even for a piss hard, he mused absently, aiming his flaccid member at the chamber pot.  I need a day off.

He sat through interminable meetings with his ministers, listening to the usual dire predictions of fiscal ruin, and arranged his face in concerned lines about the various catastrophes that dogged the heels of the construction supervisor at the temple site.  Giving the appearance of a careful ear as the heavyset man bemoaned the unreasonable deadlines of the work, Iphicles wished he had followed his baser instincts and taken a holiday.

By the time he trudged back to his chambers late that afternoon, he was irritable and tired, and not really looking forward to the evening.  He sighed heavily as he sank into the bath prepared by his manservant.  He might not be in the mood for it, but canceling a date with Ares was unthinkable.

He preened slightly as he checked the line of his clothes.  The soft fabric of the cashmere trousers and the billowing fullness of the silk shirt accentuated his muscled physique, and the whiteness of the collar made his skin look golden in the firelight.

"I approve," purred a deep voice in his ear, and he felt the strong warmth of large hands on his waist.  He turned to meet Ares' lips with his own, drawing the god's tongue deep inside his mouth.

* * *

"All right, I give up.  What's wrong?"  Ares' voice held a distinct puzzled note as he fondled the king's decidedly limp cock.

Iphicles turned his head away.  This is not happening to me, he decided. "I suppose I'm more fatigued than I thought."

"Apparently."  Ares laid down and slipped his arm around the man's shoulders.  "I guess I should tell you it happens to all men, huh?"

"You're not funny, Ares."  Iphicles extricated himself from Ares' arm and shrugged on a robe, belting it tightly.  "I'm human, you know.  And it's been a rough week."  He stared resolutely out the window, confounded by the betrayal of his own body and furious with Ares' lack of sympathy.

"Ummm.  Guess so."

Hearing the tone in the god's voice, he whirled back to face him, his eyes blazing.  "I'm so glad you find this amusing, you prick!"

"Well, I can't say I understand, since it never happens to me.  One of the basic differences between god and mortal."  He leaned back against the headboard, one arm resting on an upraised knee, dark humor coloring his face.  "Maybe you need a nap."

"Yeah, and maybe your technique is lacking.  Have you thought of that?"

Ares cocked an eyebrow.  "Aren't you the one who's always telling me I have the best mouth in Greece?  I don't think the problem here is my technique."

Iphicles turned away again, unable to stand the steady scrutiny of the god's dark eyes and the pensive set of his face.  "Just go, Ares."

"Iph, don't be like that.  You're not the first mortal to --"

"I've never had this problem with anyone else!"  He heard the whine in his own voice and bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

"So you ARE blaming me for this."  He heard the bed squeak as Ares rose. "Your cock won't work, and it's my fault."

He found himself turned roughly to face the god, and Ares' fingers dug cruelly into his upper arm.  "Is that what you're saying, your majesty?"

"I --"

"Answer me!"

The anger in Ares' eyes made him recoil, and he sank down the wall to the floor.  "I don't know!  This has never happened to me before, with anyone! I even got hard last night when Discord kissed me, and I found that absolutely repellent!"

"You fucked Discord?"  Ares' voice was deadly calm.

"Give me some credit for taste, Ares," Iphicles said sarcastically.  "Of course I didn't!  Although not for her lack of effort," he added.  "She did everything but throw me down and take it by force."

Ares stared at him for a moment, then started to laugh.  "I'll bet she loved it when you turned her down."

"Yeah," Iphicles replied, some of his good humor returning.  "She was quick to inform me that even you --" poking Ares in the ribs "-- hesitate to say no to her invitation."

The god's eyes widened.  "She said that?  She actually said those words?"

"Or something to that effect."  Ares' eyes narrowed suddenly, and Iphicles laid down next to him.  "She was pissed, Ares.  No fury like a woman scorned, and all that."

"Yes."  Ares stood slowly and began pacing as his leathers materialized on his body.  "Did you see her today?"

Iphicles watched him carefully.  "Yeah, a few times.  Why?"

"How was she?"

He shrugged.  "Fine, I guess.  Normal.  I mean, normal for Discord. Bitchy.  You know."

"Unfortunately, I do.  Shit."  He exhaled heavily and barked, "DISCORD!  A word, please!"

* * *

The goddess appeared in a violet puff of smoke.  "You bellowed, Ares?" she asked with a smirk.

He smiled wolfishly.  "I did indeed."  He motioned toward Iphicles.  "Fix it."

She stared at him levelly.  "Fix what?"

"Don't give me any shit, baby.  Just undo what you did, and do it now." Ares folded his arms over his chest, his feet planted wide and flat on the floor.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."  She studied her fingernails carefully.

He rolled his eyes and stepped quickly to her side.  "Sure you do," he said coldly, twisting her arm cruelly behind her.  "This has your mark all over it, lady."

She twisted in a futile attempt to free herself.  "Let me go!"

Iphicles shook his head, confused at exactly what was going on.  "Ares, I don't think --"

Ares shot him a hard glance.  "Think about it, Iph.  Like you said, it's never happened before."  Blue fire left his hand and sent Discord crashing against the wall.  "But you never scorned this particular bitch before, did you?"

He strolled slowly over to where she lay crumpled on the floor, fury leaking from her eyes.  "He had the guts to say no to you, so he loses the ability to say yes to anyone else, right?"  He stooped down and grabbed her chin in a steely grip.  "Now.  Fix it, or I'll make sure the only option you have, besides your own hand or a cucumber is Deimos."  He jerked her into an upright position.

* * *

Iphicles shivered and worked his ass on Ares' cock, gasping at the delicious sensation of being stretched and filled as the god's hardness pulsed and spurted thick cream deep inside him.  He slumped down heavily on Ares' chest, relishing the slickness of the cum that oozed between their bodies.  He felt the cock soften very gradually, and when it finally slipped out of him, he sighed deeply.

"Nice to have things back to normal," Ares murmured huskily, callused hands moving slowly over the king's back and the curve of his hips.

"Uh-huh."  He licked lovingly at the sweat on the god's neck, the tang of it making his breath catch in his throat.  He dug his fingernails into the massive shoulders, and Ares' slight quiver at the pain made Iphicles' cock start to harden again.

"I guess you want her out of here?" Ares asked as he turned over onto his stomach, the muscles in his ass relaxing to allow Iphicles' fingers to dip into the deep crevice and scratch lightly against the tight opening.

"Frankly," he said unsteadily, the tip of his tongue tasting the heady musk and probing the puckered surface, "I never want to see the bitch again in this lifetime."  He spread Ares' cheeks and began to suckle the sensitive circle of muscle, his mouth watering at the strong flavor of the almond oil.

Iphicles pushed his cock inside him and groaned loudly when the muscles clenched firmly just under the swollen head.  "Okay.  Done," the god said breathlessly, pushing back to welcome the full length of the shaft.

Somewhere near dawn, Iphicles snuggled into Ares' arms, his limbs throbbing pleasurably with lusty afterglow.  "I guess I'm stuck with Deimos in the future, right?"

Ares laughed softly, his throat vibrating under Iphicles' fingers.  "Yeah. Lucky you."

Iphicles rubbed the ball of his thumb across the god's hard nipple.  "And there IS an upside to this, Ares."

"Really?  What?"

"Well, you can relax -- it's not your technique."

Ares snorted.  "Like THAT was ever in question."

Iphicles laughed as the god's weight pressed him into the bed, and a very hot, very skilled tongue once more plunged deep into his mouth.

The End