Chapter Text
He did it. Despite all odds, Odysseus was able to defeat Circe. He didn't just save his men, he got on the witch’s good side, offering them help that they clearly needed. Odysseus couldn't ask for more. Of course, while pride swelled in his chest, he knew this could have only happened thanks to his divine helper. Hermes. The god didn't ask for anything in return, didn't even take Odysseus' thank you. But the king still wanted to show gratitude, even if it was in a small way.
The crew was tired and low on food, so when Circe offered them to stay the night, they obviously accepted. It was late, Odysseus’ crew was still celebrating with the nymphs, music filling the palace, food and wine plenty. The king, however, at one point sneaked away, stealing the best meat and a wineskin from the table. He went deeper into the palace, until he was at a more open section of it, tall windows letting in the gentle night air. He spotted a table and set down a golden cup, filling it with wine, and putting the meat, resting on a matching gold tray next to it. He knew it wasn't much, but he hoped that the messenger would appreciate the gesture. He raised his hand to pray in his head, thanking Hermes once again. When he turned to leave however, he heard something. The faintest rustling of wings, fluttering. The air itself shifted with that laugh, familiar even after just a single encounter. So the king turned, and of course, here he was in all his glory, Hermes sitting on the table, next to his offering, eyes fixed on Odysseus.
“Leaving already? After you’ve set out such a nice offering no less? How rude, darling.”
The faint glimmer of torch and moonlight danced off his golden helmet, hiding away his eyes, but not his pleased smile. He plucked up the cup without hesitation, swirling the dark wine before he took a sip.
“So… are you thanking me, or trying to bribe me?”
Odysseus smirked. The confirmation of Hermes enjoying his effort, even if it was small, was satisfying.
"Hermes. It's good to see you again." He stepped closer, the rest of the drink still resting in his hand in the wineskin. "I'm thanking you, of course, and I hope it is to your liking. I wouldn't have been able to save my men without you after all.”
Hermes tilted his head, studying Odysseus with that mischievous grin that seemed to linger. He let the cup dangle lazily between his fingers before he put it back down with a theatrical gesture.
"Flattery goes a long way, they say.” He pushed himself off the table then, but his feet didn't reach the ground. He just hovered slightly above the marble, coming up closer to the king. "Still, I can’t decide if you honor me out of gratitude… or because you know I might just swoop in again to save that clever hide of yours.” He spoke in a mock whisper, playful but edged with curiosity.
“Perhaps both?”
Odysseus couldn't help but chuckle.
"My intentions are as clean as a white sheet, Hermes. I would never try to butter up a god just so I would be... More secure on my way home."
It was a lie, of course it was. Yes, Odysseus felt grateful and wanted to thank Hermes, truly, but he was aware that if he played his cards right, the god might help him further if he needed it once again. That wouldn't be such a bad thing, he thought. Hermes let out a sharp laugh, the kind that danced on the edge of mocking but never quite reached cruelty. He circled Odysseus slowly, never staying stationary for too long.
“Clean as a white sheet?” He repeated, feigning shock as his grin widened. “You, of all men, saying that? I’d sooner believe Dionysus swore off the wine." He stopped in front of Odysseus again, leaning just close enough to test the mortal’s composure. The king's smile didn't flatten, and he didn't take a single step back, much to Hermes' delight. Perhaps Athena's closeness made him much more casual towards the gods, or he was always meant to be just like this. Regardless, the god continued.
"Still… I don’t mind. I quite like clever liars. Especially when they do it with such a straight face.” Hermes plucked the wineskin from Odysseus’ hand with ease, raising it in a mock toast before sipping straight from the mouth of it. “Perhaps I will keep an eye on you a little longer. Provided you keep me entertained.”
"I'm glad you find my offering satisfying. Although..." Odysseus clicked his tongue, motioning toward the golden cup, forgotten on the table. "I offered it to you in gold, just how you deserve it, and yet, you still prefer to take it straight from the wineskin? Are you sure I'm the rude one?"
Hermes arched a brow, then let out a soft, melodic chuckle, clearly delighted by Odysseus’ nerve.
“Sharp tongue. Athena must adore you for it.” Odysseus' eyes twitched just slightly at the mention of the goddess, and of course, Hermes noticed. He leaned closer again, their body heat now radiating the small space still in between them. His voice dropped yet remained playful. “Perhaps I like things less polished. More raw. Maybe I just like to stain my lips."
Hermes drank once more, then he let the wineskin hang loosely from his hand, swaying it between them like bait.
"Ah-"
Odysseus' facial expressions shifted just slightly. Hermes was close. Too close. He was thinking about stepping back, but that would be admitting defeat in whatever game this was. He could just play this off, he thought, his smile coming back onto his face, although not as confident. His eyes went to the wineskin. He knew it was some sort of trap... But he needed to return it. He stole it from his gracious host after all. His fingers slowly went to the neck of the wineskin, but he didn't take it away just yet.
"I really enjoyed our back and forth, but I must return to my men now…"
Hermes’ fingers tightened ever so slightly around the wineskin’s neck, just enough that Odysseus’ hand brushed against his own. His smirk softened into something slyer, the kind of smile that promised mischief with no clear end.
“Ah, ever the dutiful captain. Always thinking of your men first.” His voice was low, warm, yet something else lingered in it. “Don’t you want to be a little bit selfish after saving them all? You wouldn’t deny a little divine company, would you?”
"God of messages, that's a flattering offer but-”
Too close... Hermes was too close... Odysseus couldn't help but blush a little bit as he turned his head, looking away from Hermes, thinking he just saved himself even a little bit. He held onto the wineskin's neck, his fingers touching Hermes. He didn't want to let go, he wouldn't.
"...I simply couldn't neglect my men, even for such a tempting company. I'm sure you understand."
Hermes’ eyes narrowed with amusement, at least, Odysseus guessed it did, as much as he could see from his eyes. A chuckle escaped him, clearly enjoying how the king was dancing around a clean rejection, one he could not give.
“Oh, I understand…” He said, his tone was like a melody, words drawn out as though savoring them. “But here’s the thing, darling, gods rarely take no for an answer.”
With a feather-light motion, Hermes slid his thumb across Odysseus’ knuckles where they both clutched the wineskin, deliberately blurring the line between playful teasing and unmistakable intent. He leaned closer still, his breath ghosting just along Odysseus’ cheek as his grin widened into something wicked. The mortal had to come up with something better, and quickly. Hermes' offer sounded tempting, of course, and if it had been just drinking together, Odysseus would have said yes already. But something else was lingering in the air, so heavy that even the king was able to sense it. There was no way he should entertain this further no matter how nice Hermes' soft fingers felt on his calloused hand.
"I've heard you are fond of pretty nymphs, is that right? Aren't you lucky, our host Circe has a lot of them under her wings, I'm sure one or even multiple would be glad to entertain you."
Hermes laughed again, amused, but laced with a sharpness that made it clear Odysseus’ deflection hadn’t fooled him for a second. He dragged on the wineskin, and with a quick motion, turned them both around, slowly but surely backing Odysseus towards the table, his makeshift altar. That of course, made Odysseus face him once again.
“Well of course, nymphs are pleasant enough… all fluttering lashes and sweet words. But tell me-” he brushed his free hand against the king's shoulder, thumb tracing the edge of the red cloak as the mortal’s back met with the table’s edge. Odysseus had to swallow. “Have you ever seen one look me in the eye the way you do? Bold, denying me with that sly smile and thinking you can outwit me?”
His voice dropped again, and it felt like a whole theater act was dying with it.
“Don’t insult me, Odysseus. I didn’t come for Circe’s nymphs. I came for you.”
The king's heart skipped a beat. He felt like a trapped animal, something like fear growing in his stomach. Hermes’ words were replaying in his head over and over again. I came for you, he said... His voice dropped to a whisper.
"You are a bit close..."
“Yet, you didn't move away."
You didn't let me, Odysseus wanted to say, but it wasn't true, not completely. He had plenty of time to step back before and he didn't take it. His ego planted his legs more firmly on the ground than his worries could ever lift them. But he couldn't think of another smart reply, Hermes continued, whispering back with unhidden hunger, his thumb still stroking Odysseus' knuckles.
"Say the word, and I’ll step back. Gods may not take no lightly… but I do enjoy hearing mortals beg.”
There it was, another thing Odysseus' ego would not allow. Begging. Even though he was pushed against a table, one of Hermes' hands on his shoulder, another still on the wineskin, so close his breath was hitting his lips, all he could do was stand there. Hermes' smile curved, a predator all too knowing. His hand left the wineskin at last, freeing Odysseus' fingers only to feel up the king's jaw with his fingertips.
"Mm.. clever tongue, suddenly struck dumb? That's rare."
His tiny wings flapped once, sharp, and Odysseus' breathing quickened, his heart was pounding in his chest. Every single touch was electric. Not experiencing a kind and intimate act for twelve long years will do that to a man. He would have never admitted that he himself hungered, and this god was finally feeding him.
"Hermes..."
Odysseus closed his eyes, a silent admission of defeat, and that finally gave life to the first flicker of fire. With a slow inevitability, Hermes' lips met with his. Gentle at first, testing, like a spark catching tinder. Then deeper, warmer, as though the claim had already been surrendered. The god’s hand at his jaw slid back into his hair, fingers threading through the dark locks as he tilted the mortal’s head to deepen the kiss. The other pressed firmly against his shoulder, keeping him in place. Odysseus allowed it all. Like a switch, his mind, which was constantly running, suddenly turned off. He kissed back, careful, almost chaste. That's when Hermes pulled back, only for a moment, to crash down on him harder, claiming and savoring everything that the king was willing to give. Odysseus melted, a strong warrior reduced to a puddle of mess. Honestly, he should have been ashamed, but he didn't care at that point. His body relaxed, his fingers letting go of the wineskin that landed on the ground with a large thunk. That seemed to turn his mind right back on. He immediately pushed on Hermes' shoulders with both hands, separating them once again.
"Shit-" his breathing was erratic, out of rhythm. "Fuck, I'm sorry... Hermes, I'm sorry I can't... My... My wife…”
Hermes staggered back a half-step under the push. His grin faded, expression changing to honest surprise. People don't push him away. Especially not for their wives. But of course, Odysseus is not any kind of mortal man, Hermes wouldn't be there if he were. He gave out a huff, he expected this roadblock but one part of him hoped he was wrong.
"Don't apologize, darling. I shouldn't have pushed you this hard.” He bent down, scooping the fallen wineskin from the floor with easy grace, and offered it to Odysseus. “The road ahead is long and dangerous. Perhaps you'll give in to your obvious hunger at a later date.”
Hermes' words should have comforted him in a way, but they didn't. Sure, he dodged another god being pissy at him, but Hermes still found a way to push his buttons. Irritation grew in his stomach as he took the wineskin, more mad about his own body that betrayed him, that didn't follow the clear command from his mind before. He didn't want to be like the rest, driven by urges... He was better than that.
"Forgive me, Hermes, if I don't believe that you truly feel bad about this." His tone was low, battling his own voice now. "Thank you again for your help. Let's not talk about this ever again."
Odysseus didn't wait for an answer. His feet carried him out of the room, quickly, leaving Hermes behind with his offering. He walked in the long open halls, raising the wineskin to his lips and gulping the wine down. Think about Penelope - he said to himself - think about her lips. He tried as hard as he could, but the memory was so far away now, twelve years of fog building up. And Hermes' memory was just moments away. He needed more wine to push down the taste. To push down the memory. The liquor burned as it slid down his throat, a poor stand-in for the fire still smoldering on his lips. No matter how deeply he drank, the memory lingered. The halls echoed with distant music and laughter from his men, oblivious to their captain’s turmoil. The nymphs sang sweetly, Circe’s palace alive with revelry… yet Odysseus’ chest felt heavy, gnawed by contradictions. Maybe he should just try to sleep and follow his own advice.
Forget about this.