Notes: This story takes place some time after "Temper, Temper." There will be another story in this series that may answer some of the questions this one raises. And thanks to those of you who said, "Write faster." No promises on that one, but I appreciate the sentiment.:
Hooks, Lines, and Sinkers
by Miriam Heddy"Gimme some sugar, baby."
His hand had made it all the way into her bodice when she jumped away, taking his fingers, which were still wrapped up in her laces, with her. He pulled them back before she could stand up and rip his hand off and then he looked around to see what had made a noise like a charging horse.
The brush parted and a pale head attached to a skinny neck popped out. "Oh, hi! I didn't realize--"
The kid was interrupted from whatever idiotic thing he was about to say by Sugar's loud shrieking. She let loose with a truly horrible sound, somewhere between surprise and utter guts-ripping-out disembowelment as she gathered her clothes around her to cover her, um, modesty. Auto opened his mouth to say something, but the shrieking just as suddenly stopped and he didn't even bother to get up and follow her as she stomped off toward the road, muttering to herself just loud enough for him to catch the end of it. "...Pigs. I *don't* perform before a live audience."
"Joxer." Auto groaned and laid back down again, staring up at the bits of sky caught between the treetops and thinking about lost opportunities.
"Hi. Um. Sorry 'bout that. Um. So, does that actually work?"
"Does *what* work?"
"That line. Gimme some sugar, baby." Joxer repeated it, somehow making the line sound ridiculous when *he* said it. Of course, he just didn't have any style. Any sex appeal.
"Say that again."
"What?"
"The line."
"Ah--Okay. Um. 'Gimme some sugar, baby.'"
Auto shook his head and sighed. Nope, no style at all. Manages to ruin a perfectly good line. After hearing the way it sounded when Joxer said it, Auto somehow doubted he'd ever be able to use it again. "Well, it was working before you fell onto the scene. Whadisthis? Some kind of plot to see that I don't get some?"
"I don't think you need *me* for that." Joxer laughed, an odd, high-pitched laugh that sounded nervous.
"Hmph." What the heck did the kid have to be nervous about, anyway? Oh. Riight. Auto looked down and noticed that he was well on his way to being undressed. Well, heck, of course the kid was nervous. No man wanted to see a better kit, after all. And kits didn't come any better than this. He grinned to himself, admiring the pun. Come any better than this. Hah. The grin turned into a laugh as he tucked himself together and laced up all the laces that that wonderful wench had managed to undo in record time. Doesn't perform before a live audience... If you didn't count standing on stage with nothing but a shield artfully placed in front of her assets, she didn't. Hah. Some nerve, she had.
Joxer cleared his throat and he looked up, having forgotten the kid was there. Which was funny. Sometimes, the kid made *too* much noise. And sometimes, when you could get him to stand still for a minute, he seemed to disappear, almost.
"Whatdaya want, Joxer?"
"Oh. Um. I--Well, um, you see--"
"No, I *don't* see, and I have a strong feeling that I don't *wanna* see. This doesn't have anything to do with Xena, now does it?"
"Well, yeah. Actually." Joxer's face lit up with a 'How'd you guess that?' look and Auto felt sorry for him. For just a second. Until he remembered just how close he'd gotten to getting some. Joxer continued talking and Auto tuned out until he got to the point about...No, he must've misheard that part.
"What?"
"What-what?"
"Back up a minute. To the part about Ares."
Joxer blinked at him and cocked his head to the side on that long neck of his, as if he'd forgotten what he'd just said. "Oh, yeah. So then Ares sort of blasted in and told Xena to take her hands off his property--"
"What?"
"Me. He meant she was supposed to take her hands off of me. See, she was just about to, well, um, I forget what it's called, actually. When you attach someone to a horse and then cut their limbs off and give them to people?"
Auto swallowed hard. "That would be drawing and quartering." It came out like a whisper, but Joxer didn't seem to notice and kept talking.
"Yeah. That. So, anyway, she was about to do that. She had my arms and legs up and tied to Argo and a couple of trees, like this..." Joxer lifted his hands up above his head and demonstrated the position. Auto swallowed again, feeling his throat getting dryer and dryer. "And, by then I was getting a little worried, y'know? I mean, I don't really think Argo would cooperate with something like that. I think he even likes me a little. I brush his coat when Xena lets me, and he seems to like when I do it, and even lets me do the tail, and he doesn't even let Gabby touch that--"
"Skip the tail."
"What?"
"Forget it. So, you were standing like this. And..."
"Oh, yeah. And then Ares says, 'You don't want to do that.' But I guess Xena really *did* wanna do it. Sometimes, I think, Ares underestimates her. I mean, I would have just let her get on with it, you know, blow off some steam--"
"You would have--Joxer, wait a second. You *do* get the part about drawing and, ah, quartering--the part where that kills you. Slowly. Right?"
Joxer nodded, knowingly. "Oh, sure, but, I mean. Why not--"
"Why... not?" Auto suddenly felt like sitting down again. Weird ideas flashed through his head. Like maybe he was asleep. Maybe he and Sugar had had a really wild time, and they were lying here, and he was just having a strange dream. He pinched himself and shook his head. So, all right, maybe this wasn't Joxer. Maybe this was Jett. Or that other brother Joxer said he had. But then why was he talking like he was Joxer? He sounded just like Joxer. Except he was saying things that didn't make sense at all, and the kid usually had *some* sense. A few wits short of a bushel, but still...He usually knew which way was up and how to avoid getting killed. So what was--
"Oh, *I* get it. I forgot to tell you, didn't I..."
Aha. He felt better. There was an answer. Joxer had just left something important out. Like maybe this was all a description of *his* weird dream and now he was going to say what bad dinner had inspired it. It was a pretty entertaining dream, after all. Joxer, *Ares'* property. Auto had to chuckle at that one. The kid was crazy, but he was creative, anyway.
"See, it wouldn't have hurt. I mean, at least I *think* it wouldn't have hurt. No. It definitely wouldn't have hurt."
"Ah...it wouldn't, eh? Because--"
"I'm immortal."
Now *that* was funny, because he'd been sure Joxer was about to say, 'it was a dream.'
"You're *what*?" He stood up again, so that he could stand up and look Joxer in the eye, maybe see if Joxer had been ingesting something he shouldn't have. It always showed in the eyes.
"Ares, he, uh...well, see, we had this fight--"
"You and Ares."
"Yeah, and--"
"Ares, the God of War, Ares."
"Yeah." Joxer nodded. "There *isn't* another Ares, is there? Because..."
"No. There's just one. God of War. Ares." Autolycus' head was spinning. And his stomach was feeling a little funny. Maybe he should have grabbed lunch before he grabbed dessert.
"Yeah. I thought so. I kind of figured that Ares wouldn't be too happy if someone named their kid after him. He's just not that type."
"Not that type."
"I mean, I'd be honored if someone wanted to name their kid Joxer. It's a distinctive name, you know. He'd probably be the only Joxer in his village. Maybe in the whole country. Except for me, I guess."
Yup. He was definitely getting queasy, and it wasn't from hunger. Joxer had long since left him behind. And Auto actually thought that maybe that was a good thing, since he was pretty sure he didn't want to know where Joxer was heading with this. But, try as he might to convince himself otherwise, he was still sure Joxer had said something about immortality.
"So, o-kay. What you're saying is that *you* are immortal. That sound about right?"
Joxer nodded.
"And this had something to do with Ares, am I following so far? No--don't say anything. Just nod once if I'm right."
Joxer inclined his head once and then raised it.
"So you two, um, had some sort of fight--No, I don't think I want the details right now--and so now you're immortal and so Xena was being Xena and you were about to be, um, drawn and quartered, except it wouldn't have, ah, hurt, so you were going to go along with it and then..."
Joxer was silent.
Auto let out a sigh. Talking to Joxer was so much *work* sometimes. "Joxer, and then...?"
"Oh. So, then Ares told her she didn't want to. But she did. And everything got a little tense and I told Ares to stay out of it--"
"You told Ares to..." The words slipped out, but Joxer didn't notice, having gotten back into the rhythm of his story. Auto noticed that he was starting to sound like an echo and vowed to stop.
"--So Ares kind of glared at me, with that *look*, you know? And then I said something, um, not very nice, I guess, and then he said something to Xena about my being *His* to deal with, and then I said something not very nice again--"
Auto opened and closed his mouth quickly before he could ask what "not very nice" might be. He couldn't imagine Joxer saying anything not very nice. And to Ares?
"--and so now I'm here."
"Now you're here." It popped out and Auto kicked himself, hard, in the shins and then hopped on one leg while the sting of it wore off. He was *not* going to echo an idiot. Even if the idiot was functioning under some absurd delusion of immortality.
Joxer nodded and looked satisfied with himself. The kid was no bard, but it was still one heck of a story. With Joxer no longer talking, a silence fell uncomfortably between them. Auto cycled through any number of ways to deal with a delusional Joxer, but couldn't decide on the best way to handle it. And, if any part of the story were true, it sounded like Xena hadn't been able to handle him either. So maybe it was just best to play along with Joxer, sort of feel him out and see how far this delusion would carry him.
"Hey, you want something to eat? I haven't had lunch yet and it's getting on till dinner. Whatdya say we see what we can get from the next inn?" Auto made a show of gathering his things together, what few things there were, since he had opted out of stealing at his last venue because he'd met Sugar there, and, well, things had gotten complicated. The good kind of complicated.
He set off toward the road, not bothering to check to see that Joxer was following. He kept walking for about ten minutes, until he finally *had* to look and see what Joxer was up to. He could hear his shuffling footfalls, the occasional "Ow" as Joxer stumbled over a pebble or stick in the road. So the kid couldn't feel any pain, eh?
They reached the inn and Joxer found them a seat by the door. The barmaid wasn't half-bad looking, but he was too preoccupied to bother flirting back and she brought the ales to the table with a loud thump that made the foam spill over onto the table top. He watched as Joxer pulled out a rag and wiped the table with it, then picked up his drink and took a few loud gulps.
"Good."
"Hm." He took a sip of his own ale and decided that he was *really* hungry. Eat a whole pig hungry. He waved the barmaid back over and smiled at her, pouring on the charm. It never hurt to butter up the help if you didn't like your meat tough and leathery.
"What can I get you, big boy?"
Joxer looked at the board. "Is the stew any good?"
The barmaid looked at him, rolled her eyes, and sighed.
"Oh, I 'll have that then. And Auto'll have a pig."
"I--"
"Mph." Joxer swallowed the handful of nuts he'd stuffed into his mouth and then continued. "You *did* want a pig, right? Or were you, um, kidding about that?"
"I never--" Auto looked at the barmaid who was giving them both a strange look now. "Right. Yeah. Honey, you got some pork back there?" He raised his eyebrow and leered at her.
"Sure, honey. We got *everything* you want back here."
"Ah, great. Fine. Thanks."
She sauntered off toward the kitchen and he cleared his throat, watching the curve of her bottom sway as she steered around the tables and chairs.
"Was that okay? You did want a pig, right? I mean, I'm still not very good at this...well, except with Ares." Joxer shook his head, took another long swig of ale, belched quietly, and then sighed.
Auto suddenly noticed that Joxer was looking a little sad. Almost like he and Ares really *did* have a fight.
"Good at what?"
"Reading people's thoughts. It's harder than I thought it would be. Right now, it's still kind of fuzzy. Like, I suddenly saw a pig. With an apple in it's mouth, so I knew you didn't want a live one. So I figured you must be hungry. Ares said that I might never get very good at it. Some Gods don't, he said. Ares said..." And he sighed, but this time he didn't look sad. He looked kind of angry. He was biting down on his lower lip and his hands were gripping the mug of ale hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
Joxer looked up from his ale and Auto nearly dropped his own. There was something about Joxer's eyes. The kid stared at him for a second and then looked away at the far wall. "You don't believe me."
"What makes you say that?" He tried to sound casual, but suddenly he got that creepy feeling where the hair on the back of your neck starts to feel like somebody *else's* hair on your neck.
"Here you go, boys." The barmaid dropped two plates onto the table and winked. "Hope you're hungry!"
And then she was sauntering off again, but this time, Auto didn't bother watching her behind.
Joxer lifted his spoon and started eating his stew, still staring off into the wall somewhere. Auto looked at his plate, not a whole pig, thankfully, but just some greasy blackened pork that smelled strongly of black pepper.
He tried for levity. "Hey, I believe you, buddy. You say you're a God, then you're a God. I mean--"
"It's okay. You don't have to believe me. I didn't believe it, at first. But then Ares..."
Not that again. Every time Joxer said "Ares" he'd get this faraway sad or angry look and Auto was starting to wish *he* were somewhere else. Like, back on the road trying to steal something expensive with a curse on it.
"There's a curse on some stone over in...Athens, I think. Gabby mentioned it."
"There is?...Wait...How'd you know I wanted to st--I mean, pay my respects to--?"
"I *told* you. I can read your mind."
Auto took a bite of pork and chewed on it, thinking hard. That was two for two, now. Of course, there was some explanation. One of the Gods had cast some sort of spell on Joxer.
"Fine. Don't believe me. I don't care what anyone thinks. I don't care what *you* think, or Xena, or *Gabrielle* even. And I especially *don't* care what the *GOD OF WAR* thinks, okay? You can all just..." Joxer took a deep breath and then his voice went all quiet when he repeated, "I *don't* care. Just...tell someone else about it." And somehow, Auto thought that soft voice was even worse, because, although no one in their right mind would ever be afraid of Joxer the Mighty, there was something almost...well, almost dangerous about Joxer when he got like this, all worked up and angry. Something...that made Auto's stomach unsettled again, but in a good way, like when you see a really sexy girl unlace just the first two rows of her bodice, just enough to suggest that there was a whole lot more to see...
"Autolycus?"
"Uh, what?" Auto shifted on the bench seat, suddenly glad that there was a whole table top between them because he had one massive erection at that moment. He looked around, trying to spot the barmaid, but she must've been back in the kitchen, and the room was filled with just a bunch of smelly, dirty thugs and himself. And Joxer. And Joxer. Well, Hades and Tartarus on a bad day!
"Autolycus??"
"Yeah?"
"Um, why are you looking at me like that?"
"I'm not--Like what?"
Joxer blushed, the color rising to his cheeks and pooling there so that his forehead and chin looked even paler. Whatever had gotten into him, whatever look...well, it was gone and it was just good old Joxer sitting there, looking confused and naive and goofy as always and Auto relaxed, feeling the blood rush back into his head again.
"Nothing. Sorry. I just--Nevermind."
Auto nodded and tried to smile blandly at him, picking up his fork again and digging into his cooling dinner. The food was pretty good, considering the pepper was probably covering for a few things it didn't pay to think too much about. And after dinner, well, there was at least one possibility for dessert...
The fire was just starting to dim when Joxer settled another thin log onto it. Auto hadn't seen him cut the wood and didn't really feel like asking where he'd found such nicely cut, dry wood. The fire crackled for a minute and then settled down to a steady glow.
He'd spread his roll out on the ground, testing out the spot. No sharp rocks or roots under it. In fact, he was almost comfortable. Except for that strange feeling creeping up on him again when he thought about what Joxer had said. Somewhere between the barmaid taking their plates and Joxer pulling out some coin for the meal, the kid had said, really quietly, like he was trying to make out like he didn't care, but he really did, "I'm the God of Lost Causes."
Auto might have laughed. Part of him had felt like laughing. It was ridiculous. The God of Lost Causes? If this was Joxer's delusion, well, it was at least...in character. At least he wasn't going around saying he was the King of Thieves or something.
But he hadn't laughed, because Joxer had said it with such conviction that he almost believed it, just then. Not now, of course. Now, Joxer was lying a few feet away on his own bedroll, one arm up behind his head and his legs pulled up so his knobby knees were up in the air. The God of Lost Causes. Hmph. Well, if there was going to be a God of Lost Causes, Joxer would be it. Except he wasn't. Auto was still pretty sure of that.
The fire made a loud pop and a spark rose in the air and snuffed out. Joxer sighed and Auto turned onto his side to look at him. The kid really did look depressed and he felt kind of bad about it. He still hadn't quite made out why the kid had come to him after his fight with Xena, or Ares, or whatever he thought happened. But he had, so that meant it was up to him to bring the kid out of it. Make him feel better. Which was why he hadn't bothered with dessert.
Well, he might as well humor him. "So, what did you and Ares fight about?"
Joxer looked at him and then sighed again, the arm that lay at his side clenching into a fist. "We didn't exactly fight, really."
"Oh. You didn't?"
"No. It was just...He said some things he shouldn't have said. And I said some things..."
"That you shouldn't have said?"
"No. No. I meant them. I really meant them. It's just that..."
That weird feeling again. Joxer was looking at him as he talked, but somehow, Auto had the strange feeling that Joxer's words were meant for someone else. Ares, maybe. Except that was ridiculous. Maybe humoring the kid wasn't the best idea. He was starting to get pulled into the kid's fantasy.
"So what was the sticking point?"
"What?"
"What was the fight all about?"
"Oh. With Xena, it was...complicated. We were arguing about the God thing. She thinks that Ares should take it back or something. I don't know. I think she thinks he took advantage of me."
"Did he?" Gods, where did *that* come from?
"No. I don't think so. Not then. Now...things have gotten complicated...that's what he said, at first. About my becoming a God. He said it was 'complicated' but then he just *did* it. To punish me. Or something. Maybe to control me. Or to get rid of me."
"Those are some pretty different reasons."
Joxer smiled at that and his fist unclenched. Auto watched as his whole body seemed to relax into the ground. The kid was actually kind of cute in the firelight. If you didn't know better, you'd think he might move gracefully, with those long, thin, arms and legs.
"Doesn't matter why he did it. Maybe because he loves me. He'll tell me when he wants me to know."
"Oh." So the kid thought the God of War loved him. Well, he had a pretty strange way of showing it, no matter how you looked at the whole delusion thing. Making him a God of Lost Causes? *The* God of Lost Causes? That was pretty low, even for Ares.
"No, he's not." Joxer started talking, as if in answer to something Auto hadn't said. "He's not bad. He just needs to understand that I can take care of myself. That he doesn't *own* me. And I don't *own* him. Maybe before...but not now. I'm too powerful now."
Oh, Tartarus. More like the Elysian Fields! Not what he said, but the way he *said* it. Like it was the most ordinary, incontrovertible thing. *Joxer* was too powerful. Auto almost moaned as the blood rushed back out of his head and into his cock again, not even giving him time to figure out *why* this was happening. Why he was suddenly so turned on by *Joxer* of all people--because it was definitely Joxer and not someone else, because there was just no one else to pin this one on, and he was looking around, desperately, trying to find a reason for it, some other target for his cock to point at--but there was just Joxer. The Mighty. The God of Lost Causes. Too powerful. This time, he *did* moan, not able to swallow the sound in time.
And Joxer rolled over onto his side and was suddenly just *looking* at him with those eyes. Definitely strange eyes, no doubt about it now. Eyes that *were* powerful. "You want me."
Thank the Gods that it wasn't a question, because Auto had no idea how he would answer it. He stayed quiet, instead, figuring that it was the best course of action. Really, really quiet. Yeah, he and his erection would just fade into the woodwork and maybe Joxer would forget about them.
"You *do*! I can *see* it. In your head. It's like..."
"Please." Gods, he had no idea what he was doing. "Please, don't *do* that." He asked it, hearing himself ask it, part of him screaming at himself, 'What do you think you're doing? He can't read your mind. He's not a God, he's just some goofy, bumbling warrior-wanna-be. Just Joxer. Just...' but he wasn't listening to himself now. Heck, that was probably just his conscience talking, and he generally made it a point to not listen too closely to that. A man couldn't get where he'd gotten in life listening to words of caution. Sanity. Life was about risks, after all.
"Y'know, I just never thought about it." Joxer's voice was soft, quiet.
"Well, that makes two of us." He gasped the words out, trying to make a joke of it.
Joxer was just too close. And he was getting closer. Autolycus thought about rolling over. Hades, he thought about getting up, packing his bedroll, and getting the heck out of there. But he didn't.
"It's not a bad idea, really."
"What?"
"Me and you."
"What--What about--Ares?" Had he just said that? If he just said that, did that mean he believed it? The whole outrageous story? Because if he did, then that meant he was about to fuck--hey, who was he kidding, anyway--he was about to *be* fucked by the God of War's *boyfriend* for Gods sake. For Gods...Oh, he was in *trouble* now, no doubt about it. This was where the men in white togas came to wrap you up and take you somewhere nice and peaceful until you stopped babbling and drooling. And lusting after Lost Causes.
"Oh, Ares. Well, I think that *Ares* has to learn a lesson."
And you're going to teach him?
Joxer nodded. "And I'm going to teach him. Hey, this gets easier when you're touching the other person."
Oh. Well, that's just dandy. That's just fucking wonderful. Three cheers for full body contact mind reading. Let the insanity begin!
"Don't worry about Ares, Auto. He and I have a long time to work our problems out. All of eternity, actually. And you don't have much time at all to work *this* out."
The kid's hand settled on his cock, then, squeezing suddenly, hard enough to make Auto buck up into his hand and moan, really loud.
"But--you love him, right?" Gee, five whole words out and they almost made a coherent sentence. Why the heck was he talking when someone--when Joxer's--hand was unlacing his pants?
"Yeah. Love. I love him. And he loves me. But, see, if you're immortal, you have to learn to take the long--oh, my!--view of things. What a nice view it is, Autolycus. I never would have guessed. I mean, a guy who brags as much as you do, well, I always kind of thought you were all talk and no--um--action. You know?"
"You think so?" He asked, still pondering the 'oh my' and not worrying about the second part of what Joxer said. One of Joxer's long, thin-fingered hands was tracing patterns into his skin and it was very close to enough, but just shy of it. "Damn. Yes. I know. Joxer." He pressed into the hand and felt it withdraw, so he settled back down again, sensing he was already whipped.
"Right. So, in the long view, what I do now and what I do tomorrow, well, it doesn't mean I can't do something else later. The one thing doesn't have anything to do with the other. Not really."
"So--this is not--just revenge--" Just then, Joxer's hand slipped into under the fabric of his pants and Auto had to stop talking just long enough to draw another breath. There. That was better. And how did these laces work? These were new. He'd never seen Joxer wearing anything so fashionable. He almost looked like--Ares. Riiight. His thought, and it was an important one, just came back to him. "Sooo, this isn't just your way of getting back at Ares. Because, if it is--" He stopped talking to work a knot in the laces with his teeth--and the leather tasted good, actually--"if it is, then I have this bad feeling about this--"
"No bad feelings, Auto."
"No? Okay, but what if--there--" the laces came undone and he slid the leather pants over Joxer's narrow hips and urged Joxer to lift his hips up so he could take them off--"Damn!--" the pants just- well, disappeared. He looked down, feeling the air cool on his legs. His own were gone too, and he hadn't even felt them go.
"You were saying...something about a bad feeling?"
"Ares is going to *kill* me for this."
"No he won't. Don't worry about Ares. I can take care of him. Just let me--take care--of you."
Autolycus closed his eyes when the firm touch of Joxer's hand on his cock was replaced by a warm, wet, mouth pulling with a strong suction. So strong, in fact, that he almost worried about it. Who knew the kid had this skill? Before he started to think too much about where Joxer had found someone to practice on, the suction increased and Joxer's cool hands were tracing those same patterns on his chest, scraping hard over his nipples and drawing a few more colorful sounds out of him. Somewhere between a moan and the shrill scream of a girl, he came, and hard. When Joxer pulled off of him, he had lost most of his ability to move, and all of his ability to think. Speaking was out of the question as well, not that he had anything to say at that moment. Wow, maybe. What did you say to thank a God for pulling the life out of you?
"Now roll over. Please."
He rolled over, not completely surprised when Joxer patted his ass.
"That's a good little mortal."
What???
"Sorry. Bad habit."
The pat turned into a stroke that circled up to his lower back then swept back down and glided over the tops of the backs of his thighs. With every circuit, he could feel the hand getting closer until finally, it slipped between his cheeks and he moaned, feeling his muscles pull tight around the invading finger.
He hadn't done this before. He'd kind of kept his options open. There was no point, he'd long ago decided, in making lifelong decisions about anything. Where you live--you never knew when a dictator with no sense of humor might decide it was time for you to relocate and see the world, what you ate- basically, you had limited choices in some of those primitive holding cells they threw you into before trial, if you got one, or before you escaped, which was the more usual path to freedom. Really, there was no real point in deciding you weren't going to fuck men, or be fucked for that matter. After all, prison could be a mighty lonely place. For that matter, the road, alone, could be a mighty lonely place. Which was where Sugar came in.
The sudden memory of how this all started almost made him pull away. Had Joxer actually set out to seduce him? Had Joxer *not* so accidentally bumbled into his little tea for two? The invading finger was joined by a second one, also slick and cool inside him. There was a little pain, and just enough pleasure to make him close his eyes and relax into it. The two fingers were joined by a third and he decided that, hey, this was Joxer he was talking about, and Joxer was not a calculating man. God. Whatever.
The finger action stopped suddenly, just when he was starting to find a rhythm. "All right, already."
"Autolycus?"
"Yeah, baby." He offered as encouragement, shifting down to demonstrate where he was going with the whole thing.
And he felt Joxer's whole body come to rest on top of him, the strange weight of him, light, but still unfamiliar, his weight distributed differently, the pressure of Joxer's cock against his back evidence, as if he needed any, that this was *not* a woman making him beg.
"Now."
"Are--you sure? I can--wait--as long--as you need--"
"Now, dammit," then, remembering that this was a God after all, even if he was a Joxer-kind of God, he stopped himself before he started to curse. "Please. With, ugh, sugar on top."
"Very funny, Auto. You know, when we're *this* close, I can *really* see what you're thinking? And you're a pretty funny guy, actually. I wonder why I never noticed that."
Before he could come up with a witty reply, or even decide if he should bother talking when Joxer could *read* *his* *mind*, Joxer was pushing into him, the pressure on his lower back moving from mild discomfort into absolute pain, his insides suddenly raw with the sudden friction of Joxer drawing in and out of him, his emotional insides pretty damn raw too with the sudden need to increase that friction, to make Joxer move faster, harder, anything, just so long as he didn't stop what he was doing because the initial pain of it, like so many pains, was already fading and he heard himself grunting like an animal and making embarrassing sounds a lot like the sounds women usually made when they were pinned under him, and boy, would he never hear those the same way again.
And, though he tried to imagine doing this again, Joxer wanting to do this again, because he knew that *he* would, that he already *did* and it wasn't even over yet, he was just as sure that this was the one and only time, and that he would be lucky if Joxer didn't just decide to make him forget it all happened, and then it occurred to him that, yes, he really believed this was a God splitting him into two, into a hundred parts, actually, and, and a God of Lost Causes for that matter, so why in Tartarus had Joxer picked him?
But he couldn't ask that because Joxer was gripping him as if he was trying to get away, which he damned well wasn't, but he didn't mind because it felt *good*, great, actually, to have someone holding on that tight, as if you were something precious and valuable, and Oh God, Joxer was coming, he was coming, he was huge and he was coming, and he could actually feel Joxer's pulsing orgasm inside of him, like a second heart beating, like the tumblers of a lock turning and, click, it all fell into place.
When he woke up, he was alone. Lying on a bedroll, with a second one pulled up over him. And he didn't have to check to know that he was dressed, dry, healed, almost as if it hadn't happened.
Had it happened?
"Joxer. Get the heck down here."
There wasn't much in the way of flashes of light. Nothing but Joxer, suddenly here the way he was *not* here a second before.
No, actually, he *had* noticed something. A strange, discordant sound, like someone falling on a lyre. And then he noticed that the music wasn't stopping, either, and Joxer, standing there with what was probably *the* single most ridiculously pleased grin on his face, was humming.
"Joxer, the Mighty
Hm hm hm hm hm hm hm
God of Lost Cau-ses
Hm hm hm hm hm hm hm."
Still with that song? Autolycus had to smile, because he was feeling so good that even Joxer's stupid song wasn't going to spoil that. So maybe it wasn't just a one-night stand. After all, after you've had the best, why try the rest? He stretched, closing his eyes as he heard his back cracking. Ooh, that felt *good*.
A flash. He could see even with his eyes closed. Like lightening striking near by. And that smell. Like rain. He opened his eyes and sat up so suddenly that, for just a second, his vision tunneled out and he had to wait a second before he could stand upright.
Ares. Standing there, glowering. *That* look, probably. The one that few saw and lived, he was pretty sure of that, and, thankfully, it was currently being directed at Joxer.
"Joxer, the Mighty
He belongs to nobody
Lost Causes are his game
And Jo-xer is his name
He's Joxer, Joxer the Mighty."
Autolycus watched as the God of War turned a shade of red that, on a mortal, would have meant someone had a *very* firm grip on his balls and was probably twisting them counter-clockwise.
Auto took a few steps back, stopping when he bumped into a tree at his back.
"Oh, hi Ares."
Joxer said that in that goofy-Joxer voice, as if he didn't notice Ares' color or those sparks that were flying from his fingertips. Auto thought about calling out, to warn him, but decided that self preservation was first on the agenda. And, heck, there wasn't much he could do for Joxer if he was dead, now was there?
He turned to run but found himself frozen in place, as if the tree had ahold of him. He looked down and saw that, actually, the tree *was* holding him. Vines had grown ridiculously fast and were wrapping around his middle like a belt and, as he watched with a sort of detached horror that meant he was really close to fainting, one stray vine was circling behind him and pulled up from between his legs, cinching taut so quickly he could only squeak in pain as his balls were, very slowly and skillfully, turned counter-clockwise.
"Stop singing or I swear I will--" He heard Ares growl, but Joxer was on to the next verse, his singing loud, and almost purposefully off-key.
"Joxer, the Mighty
is afraid of nobody
Because of Ares, he's now free
To be just who he wants to be
And nobody *ever* owns me..."
Joxer stopped singing and walked up to Ares, stopping when they were chest to chest, so close that Autolycus, still barely conscious, couldn't even see to distinguish where one black leather shirt ended and the other's began.
Ares kept his hands at his sides, fingers still sparking. Auto saw a tuft of dry grass at the God's feet catch a spark and burn to the ground in seconds. Joxer lifted his boot and stepped on the spot, stopping the fire before it could spread.
For one tense moment, Autolycus thought they had forgotten him.
Then Ares seemed to relax, his sparking fingertips clenching into fists and then opening again. He brought his hands up and, for a second, Auto was sure he was about to hit Joxer, but then he only smiled at Joxer and said--very casually, very mildly, so mildly, in fact, that Auto shuddered in sheer terror at the God of War sounding so mild, because it was so *obvious* that something bad was about to happen and Joxer wasn't looking anywhere *near* worried enough--"And nobody ever owns *him*. It doesn't rhyme, but it's true."
And Autolycus had just enough time to figure out that Ares was correcting Joxer's last line, and he shuddered at that, realizing that he couldn't remember what his own last words had been, and it didn't look like he was going to have another chance to exit on a bang, because Ares grabbed one of Joxer's hands and stretched both their arms toward him, fingers tightly clasped together, and then Ares nodded and Joxer looked at Autolycus, and his eyes were so strange and peaceful and yes, he was definitely a God, and said, "You will forget."
Autolycus woke, stretching out on the bedroll and rubbing at his eyes. He patted the ground next to him and, finding nothing, opened his eyes and rolled over.
"Sugar?"
And then he remembered. She hadn't been all that sweet on him after all.
He shrugged and gathered up his things, rolling the bedroll up neatly and picking a direction. His pockets were distressingly empty, and his purse was too light. But there was a cursed stone in Athens with his name on it. And, if that didn't work out, well, the possibilities were endless, if you had an open mind and a quick hand.
—FIN—
© 8/21/98
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