Heart's Desire

"Surprise," Viggo said as Phil returned.

"Galaktoboureko," Phil enthused. "My favourite." The filo-wrapped custard centre with its dressing of rose syrup made a perfect ending to the meal. Phil was only too happy to share the dessert with Viggo. As the empty dish was cleared away, small cups of coffee were put in its place. Phil smiled at Viggo. "Thank you. It's been wonderful."

"Glad you enjoyed it," Viggo said gruffly.

****

Phil was dropped off outside his apartment block. He smiled as Viggo gave a wrinkle of his nose to indicate his disapproval.

"It's cleaner inside than it looks and my neighbour is an elderly lady. I just have it for a couple of weeks and then I'll move on."

"I'd like to see you tomorrow. Please," Viggo said.

"Of course," Phil said. "When?"

"You'll know," Viggo said cryptically. He started up the bike and quickly vanished from Phil's sight.

Phil gave a small groan as he realised, too late, the significance of the next day. The groan became a sigh. It did not really matter what the day was. They were all as empty and meaningless as the last. He was only just starting to realise just how much Viggo's companionship had meant to him over the last few days. It would make it harder than ever when he was alone once more.

****

As morning dawned, Phil rose and headed to his bathroom. He stared at his reflection.

It was Valentine's Day. The day for lovers.

Yet here he was, alone and unloved. How ironic. He stiffened and headed towards his front door, fleetingly aware of the presence that had briefly come and gone. He opened the door and stared at what had been left.

A gold, heart-shaped box, presumably filled with chocolates and a single red rose. Phil began to shake his head as he replayed the last few days. He wined and dined me, now hearts and roses. Viggo was courting me. But he can't...we can't.

He was dressed in an instant and barrelling downstairs with reckless abandon to stand outside staring at Viggo. It had been in Phil's mind to simply demand to know what Viggo thought he was doing. However, despite their closeness even he faltered. He could not remember seeing Viggo with such an intense look. His lips began to move to frame Viggo's name, but before they could the helmet he had worn on his rides was in his hands. He stared at it for an instant and then back up at Viggo. The intensity remained but now there was an odd mix of defiance and apprehension.

Phil was on the bike, his arms tight around Viggo's waist almost before he realised what he was doing. The bike sped away from the village, the older man travelling at such a pace that the countryside around them was no more than a blur. Phil held tighter as Viggo swung the bike off the main road and onto a track through a forest. The speed barely faltered and Phil could see they were heading towards a large tree. Even though he knew they would not hit it, he could not stop his eyes from closing.

As he opened them again, the bike stopped and Phil stared. They were in a small clearing in front of a single story house that seemed to have been grown from the surrounding trees rather than built. He eased off his helmet and dismounted from the bike as Viggo did the same.

"This is my private place," Viggo said. "I've brought no one here before. No one." The last words were spoken with deliberate inflection.

"No one?" Phil echoed as if unable to quite believe what he was hearing. He gave a soft gasp as Viggo tossed aside the leather vest and t-shirt, baring his solid, furred chest to Phil's eyes.

"No other being has set foot in this house. Until now. Until you. If you will."

Phil could see his hand shaking as he reached out and touched Viggo's chest. The older man did not flinch as Phil searched his heart.

"You love me?" Phil whispered, stunned that Viggo had managed to hide his true feelings from him. He felt himself enfolded in strong arms and drawn closer to the older man. Just before their lips could touch, he murmured, "I love you too." However, he managed to pull back and stared at the older man shaking his head. "But we can't. You're my, my..."

"Hephaestus is your father, Eros," Viggo said, his voice quiet. "He was afraid that as his son, you would not get the status or devotion you deserved. You inherited Aphrodite's beauty and delicacy of features, and you and Harmonia look so alike, that it was never questioned. Hephaestus swore all the Olympians to secrecy and, for once, they all kept their word."

"I always felt so comfortable with Hephaestus," Eros said wonderingly. "I can scarcely believe he would do this."

"Like all fathers, he wanted to do the best for his son. It was his heart's desire that you were not disadvantaged by being the son of Hephaestus. Apollo saw me caring for you when you were just a small child and prophesied that one day our love would not be as father and son. I dismissed it then, but he was right. I began to realise when you were hurt by Psyche. I reacted as a jealous lover not an angry father, but you were not in love with me then. I waited, remembering Apollo's prophesying and praying for the day that the feeling would be returned."

"It has been for some time," Eros confessed, blushing.

"So I was told and I held back because I was afraid. Ares, god of war, was afraid that Eros, god of love, would not love him. I nearly confessed my love so many times..." He gave a self-depreciating smile. "When I failed to say anything last year, Hephaestus threatened to make Aphrodite earrings out of my balls because I clearly had no need for them."

"Hephaestus said that? To you?" Eros could not stop the peal of laughter that rang out.

Ares grinned, then gave an inward wince at the moment that a certain thought, he hoped might have been avoided for some time, went through Eros' mind. The younger man glared at him accusingly.

"You were told?" Eros said. "Just how many of the other gods are involved in bringing us together?" he asked.

"Well...Hestia was the first to mention it to me. She and I have always been close. Then Athena and Artemis had a word and finally Aphrodite and Hephaestus. As to how many brought us together..." Ares sighed. He would be nothing less than honest with Eros from now on. "Gaia created the space for the pool we swam in, Poseidon filled it and Hephaestus ensured it was heated. Apollo made sure the days were sunny and warm. Aphrodite created the romantic restaurant. Hermes was our waiter while Demeter provided the food and Dionysus the wine. The elderly couple, they were Zeus and Hera."

"The whole family?" the younger man whispered. He was scarcely able to believe it. "Then I had better not disappoint them." Closing on the bigger man, he was rewarded by a soft moan from Ares as Eros brushed his lips gently across his mouth.

With a supreme effort, Ares pulled away and stared at his new lover-to-be. The emotions he could see in Eros' eyes were a potent mix of love and lust, yearning and desire and a just a touch of apprehension. This time Ares pulled the younger man tightly against his body. Their lips met for a second time. Soft, slow and gentle turned quickly into deep, hard and passionate as the two gods explored each other's mouths, each learning the taste of his new lover.

They parted and stared at one another smiling. Then Ares whispered into Eros' ear. For a second or two the younger man stared and then his clothes simply vanished to leave him naked, apart from a gossamer wisp of material that hung low on Eros' hips. It accentuated as much as it concealed. The outline of hardening flesh was tantalisingly visible yet veiled. He let his wings slowly open, the sight of the snowy-white feathers earning a groan from Ares.

With a shy grin, Eros leant forward and made his own request. There was no hesitation on Ares' part. Before Phil could blink the older man was naked apart from the assless, black leather chaps and biker's boots. A magnificent erection and wide smile were the only other things he wore. The sight of the impressively proportioned hard flesh had Eros shiver with a mix of arousal and apprehension.

"Ares," he whispered as he moved into the other man's arms. He moaned as his new lover's mouth kissed along his throat before mouthing at the fragile flesh. "I've never had a male lover." He felt Ares pull away and tried to follow, but strong hands held him still. He gave a surprised gasp as Ares dropped to his knees.

"I am happy to wait until you feel ready, my love," Ares husked. "I am more than willing for you to take me."

"What would the mortal world think if they could see the god of war kneeling before the god of love?" whispered Eros, touched by Ares willingness and vulnerability.

"Perhaps they would finally realise that true strength lies in loving and not making war. Love has courage, power and fortitude beyond what many would give it credit for."

"Your offer is one that I may take up another time, beloved," Eros smiled. He reached down to clasp Ares' hands and raise the other man to his feet. "Today I want to feel your strength inside me. I want to feel your flesh and seed filling me. I want you to complete me like no other has before."

"And no other ever will," Ares growled possessively. The words were a sacred vow. He had waited too long for it anything less. "I love you. I have never spoken those words to another bed-mate. I say them now, to you, because I mean them."

"And I love you," Eros smiled. He let Ares slide an arm around his waist and guide him towards the house.

Inside were a huge bed, a small wooden table next to it and an open fire that sprang to life with a wave of Ares' hand. The bed was covered with a thick duvet encased in black silk. On the table was a chafing dish that held oil kept warm by a small candle. Around the fire was a large stone hearth. With another sweep of his hand a pewter wine jug and two drinking cups appeared on the fireside. In front of the fire was a large, thick, sheep's fleece rug towards which Eros was impelled. He glanced over at the bed.

"Soon, my love," Ares promised. "I would not just throw you into my bed as soon as you set foot in my private home."

"Even if I would be happy for you to do so?" Eros teased. As much as he did want to make love with Ares he was still nervous.

"Another time," Ares growled, giving a feral grin at the shudder that ran through his lover's lithe frame and set the wings to flutter slightly. He poured out a cup of wine for each of them. It was fire-warmed and lightly spiced. He wanted to give Eros time to adjust to the situation. He wanted the day memorable for all the right reasons.

They drank the wine, their hands entwined, and they interspersed increasingly impassioned kisses between sips of the potent drink. Eros could feel himself relax and let Ares lay him back on the rug. He revelled in the weight of the larger man. He started to thrust instinctively against Ares' broad frame, rubbing his erection against the hard thigh that was pressed against him. He heard Ares groan and the older man gripped his hair. Ares lips sealed over his and took possession of Eros' mouth.

Ares dove into the kiss like a man dying of thirst would a blessed brook. Despite Eros' naivety in making love with another man, there was no denying his willingness, his eagerness. The younger man arched up, trying to press their bodies ever closer and Ares wanted to run his hands over every millimetre of Eros's body, learn the taste and texture of the beguiling wings. He wanted to ravish him, love him and feast upon his addictive flavours.

Worship him with his body, his heart, his soul.

He could taste the passion in Eros's kiss, but he was also aware of the inexperience. Wanting to ensure his new lover enjoyed being made love to by another male, Ares gently took control of the kiss, moving his lips over Eros', brushing, teasing, enticing. Ares smiled to himself as each time a kiss ended, Eros angled himself perfectly to receive the next. For all his many and varied episodes of taking a bed-mate, Ares had never experienced anything like the fire in his blood that the kisses alone shared with Eros was igniting.

Ares' tongue teased across Eros's lips, and they parted eagerly, ready for more. He buried one hand in Eros' hair, tipping the younger man's head to get the best access to his lush mouth. He let his tongue play inside, thrusting lightly with the agile organ, tantalising him with the prospect of more intimate contact. With a soft groan Ares accepted Eros' tongue into his mouth and felt it seek out his own. He closed his lips, sucking the probing flesh. Eros moved with their rhythm and his entire body rocked against Ares' as the older man sucked on his lover's tongue.

For long minutes their tongues slid against one another, over teeth, learning the topography of each other's mouths. As each kiss ended, Ares drank in the sight of Eros lying beneath him, face flushed, his wingtips fluttering. Finally Ares rolled them over, wondering if Eros might be becoming uncomfortable lying on his wings.

As he stretched out over the broader, furred frame, Eros started to thrust against Ares. He straddled one of his lover's muscular thighs, rubbing his leaking length against the solidity of the older man. He gave a soft moan of denial as he was easily lifted and then moaned his approval as his shaft nestled against Ares'.

One large hand began to squeeze his left nether cheek whilst the other slid up his back to stop at the point where Eros' wings joined his body. He opened his eyes and gazed into Ares', the older man clearly waiting for permission to continue.

"Yes, please," Eros whispered into his lover's mouth.

Drawing Eros' face down to kiss again, Ares tentatively stroked the skin around the base of Eros' wings. In response he was rewarded by a whole-body shudder from the lithe young man who then started to rock his hips faster. Not wanting it to end too quickly, Ares wrapped his legs round his lover, holding him in place. He continued to caress Eros' wings, softly smoothing and playing with the feathers and stroking the sensitive skin, eliciting small whimpers from his lover. Growling softly, Ares lips moved to his lover's throat where he gently nibbled and sucked the soft skin, needing to leave a mark of his possession, however temporary the bruise would be.

Even his fantasies could not have begun to prepare Eros for the reality of Ares' hand on his wings. Then the hand moved and Eros' back arched at the intimate touch. An electric current of desire sizzled and soundlessly crackled along the length of his spine and jolted into his groin. He could not stop the whimpers that escaped him.

At the passionate response Ares had them on his bed in an instant, Eros beneath him once more. This time they were both naked and Ares eyes burned with a mix of love, lust and awe at the sight of the nude form of his beautiful lover. Eros shaft was swollen and leaking its juices and Ares licked his lips in anticipation. He oiled his fingers from the dish and then slowly licked his way down his lover's smooth-skinned body.

Ares was certain he had tasted nothing that could compare to the sweetness of Eros' lips and skin. He nibbled slowly towards his first prize, a burnished bronze nipple that begged to be suckled. As his lips sealed over the luscious nub, Ares oiled fingers slid between his lover's thighs, seeking out the hidden entrance to his mate's body. He let his digits slide over the already quivering portal as he kissed his way to Eros' other nipple. As he nipped at the tender flesh, he pressed a single finger against tightly-furled flesh.

A soft keening sound escaped from between Eros' kiss-swollen lips as Ares' digit slid past his lover's already-vanquished defences and into tight, molten heat. The bigger man rumbled approvingly as his lover writhed on his finger. Ares began a gentle motion, back and forth, as he let his lover become accustomed to the sensation of taking another into his body. He nibbled his way lower. He thrust his tongue into Eros' navel mimicking a more intimate act to follow and the dulcet cry of his name inflamed his arousal more. He own hard, thick flesh throbbed in tandem to the thrusts of his finger.

As he added a second finger to stretch and oil his lover he sucked at the damson-hued head of Eros' engorged flesh. He groaned as Eros' wings rose and fell against the dark cover of his bed, their snowy-whiteness in stark contrast, the tempo matching that of his lover's slender hips. He spread his fingers apart, opening his mate ready to accept his flesh and finally unite them.

As his pushed a third inside, he swallowed Eros' shaft to the root, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard. At the same time he curled his fingers and stroked Eros' sweet spot. He heard his name cried aloud as his lover thrashed beneath him, lithe legs drawing upwards and outwards, the younger man offering himself wantonly to his dominate mate.

"Please, please, please."

Ares rumbled approvingly at the plea. He flicked his tongue over the tiny slit, drinking the salty-sweet prelude of the nectar to follow. He buried a hand under his lover and grasped at the base of Eros' wing as he simultaneously sucked hard and pressed against Eros' hidden jewel. A cry of his name echoed around the room as Eros' crested. As the younger man's hips pumped instinctively, Ares drank the offering. The taste of Eros' seed surpassed anything Ares had ever encountered and he suckled insistently to ensure not a drop escaped him.

Only once he was certain Eros had nothing left did he release the softening organ and kneel up. He barely stroked his own shaft when it erupted with a ferocity that left Ares gasping. His semen rained over Eros' sweat-glistening skin, over the still-peaked nipples, the toned abdomen and the spent penis. For a minute Ares panted harshly, surprised by the intensity of his own orgasm. As he recovered, his lips curled into a feral grin. If watching his lover could make him come harder than he had before then he could scarcely wait to be inside the younger male.

As Eros slowly regained his wits, he urged Ares onto his back and straddled his thighs. The older man's hair tickled his thighs and Eros decided it was a sensation he liked. His hands settled on Ares' bare chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, stroking the skin and then entangling his fingers in the dark pelt. His fingers moved to the thick, espresso nubs that peeked from the opulent chest hair. He stroked over them softly then slowly increased the pressure until Ares gave a low groan, his chest arching into the caresses. He dropped his head to finally taste a peaked nipple and he heard Ares gasp aloud.

"You like that?" he asked.

"Very much," Ares replied honestly, receiving a blinding smile in reply. "May I?" he added, reaching to touch the smooth skin between Eros' wings.

Eros allowed Ares to place him as he willed. The sensation of kneeling, his legs spread wide, with another male behind him had him breathing in short, shallow pants. He felt vulnerable and voluptuous, anxious and aroused, his sex slowly re-filling and his wings trembling.

"Relax, my love," Ares soothed. "I will never hurt you and will do nothing until you are ready. Trust me."

"I trust you as I love you," Eros vowed. "With all that I am."

Ares felt as if his heart had been lovingly caressed by the softly-spoken words. He finally had his heart's desire. He stared at the unfurled wings. He buried his face in Eros' wings and a raw moan escaped his throat, echoed by one from Eros. The wings fluttered in what Ares decided was clearly an invitation to continue. To the older man they smelt of snow, wind and pine.

"Tell me if it becomes too much," he whispered.

Ares' hands moved over the wings, tracing each feather and learning their shape and texture as Eros trembled under the onslaught of erotic sensation. Moans, pleas and whimpers escaped his lips in a concerto of arousal that resonated in Ares' heart and soul. His fingers burrowed delicately into the thick covering of feathers wanting to imbue as much pleasure as he could.