Title:  Lonely is a Four Letter Word

Author: Angelee

Fandom:  Hercules

Pairing: Ares/Iolaus

Rating:  Adult

Summary:  Can a God get lonely?

Beta: By my sister Anna.  All remaining errors are my own.  With apologies.

 

Lonely is a Four Letter Word

 

“Ares, don’t you get tired of being such a bully?”  Iolaus asked, shaking his head to clear the fuzzy fog from his brain.

 

Ares loved to kidnap Iolaus and the blond was starting to get an inkling as to why.

 

Ares chuckled.  “Hades, no.  That’s why I’m a God.  We were made for bullying.  Well, one of the things we were made for, anyway.”

 

Iolaus raised his blue eyes skyward and shook his head.  “Oh, brother.”

 

“Well, blondie, what do I do with you this time?”

 

“Let’s see, you’ve tried to kill, mutilate, mangle me.  There’s not much left on that spectrum of things.  How about trying the other extreme?”

 

Ares sprawled on his thrown arrogantly.  “Which is?”  He asked, checking his nails.

 

Iolaus eyed the God of War.  Damn, the God was handsome.  He truly was a God.  Dark eyes, dark hair, dark everything.  He reeked of sensuality.  Maybe reeked wasn’t the right word. Oozed.  Yeah, oozed worked a little better. 

 

There was just something about him.  Call him crazy, but every now and then Iolaus’d swear he’d see flashes of something cross those beautiful, dark eyes. 

 

Do Gods get lonely?  They must because Iolaus would swear Ares was.  Ares was lonely, Iolaus would bet his life on it.

 

He cleared his throat.  “Ares, can I ask you something?”

 

The God of War waved an arrogant hand.  “Ask away.”

 

“Do you ever get lonely?”

 

Iolaus could have sworn he saw a flash of pain cross Ares handsome face, before vanished as if never having been.

 

“I’m a God.  I don’t get lonely.”

 

The blond moved closer cautiously.  “The truth, Ares.  Do you ever get tired of causing so much chaos that you just wanna...

 

Ares interrupted.  “What?  Sit around and knit something?  I hardly thing so.”

 

Iolaus laid a tentative hand on the God of War’s thigh.  Smiling inwardly when he wasn’t pinned to the far wall by a bolt of lighting for his audacity.  The only thing that happened  was a raising of an arrogant eyebrow. 

 

“I think you’re so lonely you do stuff to get attention.”

 

“I get attention.  A lot of attention.  I am after all a God.”

 

“Yeah,” Iolaus replied, softly.  “But the wrong kind of attention.  When people run from you screaming and yelling every time they see you coming.  In my book that’s the wrong kind of attention.”

 

Ares flinched.  “That’s a low blow, even for you, Blondie.  That hurt.”

 

Iolaus gave him a small smile.  “Tell me it’s not true.  Go on.  There’s no one else here, but us to say differently.”

 

The God of War sighed.  “You’re a real pain in the ass.  You know that?”

 

“Yeah, well-you shouldn’t have kidnapped me for your own amusement.  How many times does that make?  Six?  Seven?”

 

“I was bored and I needed something to do.”

 

“You’re bored because…”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.  I’m lonely.  And if I did admit it, what are you planning on doing about it?”

 

“Why do I have to do something about it?  You’re the God, not me,  Iolaus told him in exasperation.

 

“You’re the only one here, Blondie.  Entertain me.”

 

Iolaus looked around the temple at all the tributes offered to the God of War.  Everything from food to the finest weapons of destruction.

 

All of it good tributes, but didn’t come close to touching the heart of a God.  Iolaus wondered if he could?  If he could touch the heart of a truly lonely God?

 

Ares could be arrogant, vengeful, spiteful, vindictive and just downright mean, but damn he was beautiful in a handsomely sort of way.

 

Ares was bad, yet he touched something in Iolaus no one had ever touched, not even Hercules.

 

“Ares, what do you want?  I could knit you a sweater,” Iolaus told him with a tiny smile, moving closer still.  Ares watched him warily.  “Or I could love you to within an inch of your life.  Make sure you’re not so lonely.”

 

“What about Hercules?”

 

“I love Hercules, but he’s not the boss of me.  I do what I want, with whoever I want.”

 

Ares watched as the blond’s hands start opening his vest.  “And I’m suppose to believe that you want to take away the loneliness by the goodness of your heart?  That’s assuming I’m lonely, of course.”

 

Iolaus chuckled softly.  “Of course.”  Running his hands gently over the chest covered in the softest of hair.  “Yeah, I can.”

 

“You’re very arrogant for a mortal,” Ares told him, snidely. “And what if I need more than an interesting row in the hay?”  he asked, watching the hands gently caressing his chest.  Trying to ignore the warmth and comfort they offered.

 

“Like?”

 

Iolaus asked as he moved in to nuzzle at the God of War’s neck.  Ares smelled good.  The God arched his head back, allowing fuller access.  Never one to disallow touch.  Being a God of War meant most times people thought all you cared about was weapons, war, blood and guts.  That could get really boring after the first couple of centuries.

 

“Oh, I don’t know.  Vows of some kind.  A ring, maybe,” Ares told him flippantly.  Something he wasn’t really feeling.

 

Iolaus stopped nuzzling to look deep into Ares dark eyes.  “You want vows and or a ring?”  He asked stunned.  “You?”

 

Ares hand’s tangled into Iolaus hair, angling his head. “Yeah, I’m not the kind of God that just fucks around.”

 

Iolaus laughter filled the temple, earning a smile from Ares.  “Right and I’m Zeus left ball.”

 

“Yuck, that’s gross,” Ares replied, doing some nuzzling of his own.  “Don’t talk about Daddy that way.”

 

“Sorry,” Iolaus replied, not really meaning it. He climbed on top of the throne Ares sat on, in an attempt to get closer. The God of War allowed it, even going as far as to align them as close as possible.  Iolaus legs on either side of his.  Their groins touching as the blond sat in his lap.  “Do you want some sort of commitment?  Is that what you’re asking?”

 

Ares cupped the blond’s head and looked deep into his eyes.  “What do you think?”

 

Iolaus moved his mouth to within inches of the God’s.  Even Ares breathe smelled good.  Like the sweets of meads.  “I think you want to make sure I don’t break your heart. That I won’t hurt you like everyone else has.”

 

Ares tongue came out to taste Iolaus lips.  “You’re real smart for a mortal.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what Herc says.”

 

Suddenly Iolaus found himself on the temple floor, with an aching butt.  “Ow!  What’s I say?”

 

Ares ran an unsteady hand through his hair.  “Nothing.  I think you’d better leave now,” he said as he walked toward the table containing his offerings.

 

Iolaus followed.  “Ares?”

 

“You better go, blondie.”

 

“I don’t want to go.”

 

“I said GO,” The God of War said angrily.

 

“No.  I don’t want to go and if you really wanted me to, you would have poofed me out of the temple.”

 

“I don’t poof.  I’m a…”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a God.  You sure are sensitive for a Godly type,” Iolaus told him, laying a head against Ares broad back.  Arms going around the narrow waist to hold the God of War close.

 

Ares didn’t reply to that.  Instead he asked.  “What do you think of this?”  he asked, holding up a very ornate knife.

 

“Ugly,” Iolaus replied, looking over Ares shoulder.  Before once again laying his head against the broad back.

 

The God tossed it back onto the pile.  “Yup, it is.”

 

“Ares, is it because I mentioned Hercules name?”  Feeling the God stiffen.  “Yeah, it is,” he said, answering his own question.  Iolaus started a gentle rocking motion.  “I love Hercules, but he doesn’t own me.  I do what I want.”

 

Ares arms came up to cover Iolaus.  “And the minute he turns those beautiful, baby blues toward you, you’re going to drop me like a hot rock.”

 

“No I won’t.”

 

“Yes, you will and we both know it.  So I’d rather not, thank you very much.  I…”  Ares went silent, unable, or unwilling to finish his sentence.

 

Iolaus rubbed his face against the God’s back.  Breathing deep the smell of warm leather and Ares.  It was intoxicating and Iolaus liked it a lot.

 

“I’m offering you love, Ares.  An end to your loneliness.”

 

“No, you’re offering me sex.  Sex I can get anywhere.”

 

Iolaus gave a small sound of frustration.  “No, I’m offering you love.”

 

“Not when you belong to someone else.”

 

Iolaus sighed heavily.  “Why must you be so difficult?  You’re acting like some virgin demanding commitment and fidelity before doing the dirty deed.”  Ares didn’t reply.  “I’m sure you’ve had sex with other people.  Why must it be different with me?”

 

“Because you said you were offering something different.  Isn’t that something different?” Ares whispered softly.

 

 “I can love you, Ares.  Let me.”

 

“Not when you belong to someone else.”

 

“I don’t belong to anyone, Ares.  I belong to me.  What do you want?  For me to write it in blood?”

 

“Would you?”

 

Iolaus lost in the smell and feel of Ares, didn’t hear the question.  “What was that?”

 

“Write it in blood.”

 

“Alright,” Iolaus pulled away from Ares taking a knife from the pile on the table quickly sliced his forefinger.  “Where do you want me to write it?”

 

Ares pointed to the floor.  Watching motionless as Iolaus began to write.  “I Iolaus belong to me.  No one else.”  He ran out of blood before he finished having to reslice his finger.  From the floor the blond looked up at Ares.  “Satisfied?”

 

“No.”

 

Iolaus blue eyes widened.  “No?  What?  Want more blood?”

 

The God of War gave him a tiny smile.  “What if I want you to belong to me?”

 

“Ares…”  Iolaus frowned.  Trying to get a God into bed sure was difficult.  If not impossible.  “I want you.”

 

“And?”

 

“And I will commit to you if you want.”

 

“Geez, don’t sound so thrilled by the prospect.  And?”

 

Iolaus sighed.  For heaven sakes.  How many more ‘ands’ could there possibly be?  “And what?” 

 

“And?”  Ares prompted again.

 

“I’ll give you a ring.  Once I find one worthy of a God,” Iolaus offered hopeful that was what Ares was after. 

 

That was it as the God gave him a brilliant smile.  Pulling Iolaus up into his arms.  “Mine?”

 

“Yup, yours,” Iolaus replied.

 

“Not Hercules.  Not anyone else’s, mine.”

 

Iolaus gasped.  “Ares…can’t breath. Mortal here.”

 

The God loosened his hold.  “Sorry.”  He frowned down at Iolaus.  “One last thing…”

 

“Damn, what?”

 

“You better not be lying to me about Hercules, because if you are I will hunt you down and string you up by your balls.  Clear?”

Iolaus flinched.  “Very.”  He wrapped his arms around Ares.  “You are the most insecure God ever.  I love Hercules, but as a brother.  No where in the same league as the way I want to love you.”

 

Ares gave him a smile that took Iolaus breath away.  “One final thing, blondie.”

 

“Shit, what?”  Iolaus asked, dejectedly.  Damn, they were never going to get to make love at this rate.

 

The God of War tightened his arms around the smaller man.  “I don’t share what is mine.  If you ever stray…”

 

“I know.  I know.  You’ll string me up by the balls.  Are we done with all your issues?  Can we make love now.  The afore mentioned balls are tied in knots.”  He said plaintively.  “I’m starting to hurt something awful.  I want to love you now.  Please, please, please?  Can we?  Can we, please?”

 

Ares gave him another of his soul destroying smiles.  Iolaus held his breath.  Waiting silently for the other boot to drop.  It did as they both winked out.