Enthralled

Chapter 1

“No Hercules, I won’t do it.” Iolaus scowled, arms crossed in angry defiance.

“Iolaus, it’s the only way.” Hercules was a little surprised at his partner’s steadfast and immediate refusal. When Autolycus had first come to them with the news that young men were disappearing from the neighbouring village of Lycinae, Iolaus had been determined and even eager to get to the root of the trouble. Now, suddenly, he was firmly refusing to go along with their only plan.

“You have no idea what you’re asking, Herc. I can’t do that to you... I won’t!”

“Iolaus...” Hercules frowned, confused at Iolaus’ near desperate tone. The hunter was right in one respect, he had no idea why Iolaus was so upset. And it was disconcerting to realise that he obviously didn’t know his friend as well as he’d always thought he did.

“I think the big guy’s right on this one, Iolaus,” Autolycus interrupted, “it’s the only way you’re going to get into the compound.”

Iolaus opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything Autolycus added, “at least it’s the only way in that doesn’t involve getting a bunch of innocent people killed.”

“But why does it have to be Herc?” Iolaus almost whined the question, already knowing the answer.

“Because,” Autolycus sighed, exasperated, “Nysus likes them tall, which leaves you out, and blond, which leaves me out.” Clearing his throat, Autolycus quickly added, “not that I’m interested in that sort of thing.”

“Iolaus,” Hercules reasoned, “you know I’m the only one of us who fits the description. It has to be me, and I need you...”

Iolaus’ eyes drifted shut in defeat, as he whispered, “you don’t know what you’re asking...” to no one in particular.

But Hercules answered, clasping his hand against the hunter’s shoulder. “I’m asking you to stand with me, partner. I’m asking you to watch my back like you always do.” The demigod hesitated, searching Iolaus’ blue eyes intently, looking for the man he’d known since they were adolescents, the man he trusted with his life, “I’m asking for your help.”

Iolaus shrugged away from the comfort, “You’re asking me to pose as a slave owner.” He turned a sharp glare on the tall man in front of him. “You’re asking me to pretend I own you.” The anger left his voice then, leaving only resignation. “You’re asking me to play your Master.”

“Yes, Iolaus, I am.”

“It won’t work. Don’t you see that?” Iolaus insisted, pacing the small clearing where he and Hercules had made camp the previous evening.

“Why not?” Autolycus asked, seeming genuinely puzzled. He’d spent time with Hercules and Iolaus before. He thought he knew them both fairly well, but he’d never seen Iolaus this agitated about what seemed to be a relatively simple, straight-forward plan. Especially when there wasn’t really any alternative. “Iolaus?”

“Do I really have to explain it?” Iolaus growled, exasperated. “His attitude is all wrong, he’s too controlled, and controlling.”

Stung a little at the hunter’s assessment, Hercules scowled, saying, “it’s only a role, Iolaus, to get us inside.”

Iolaus turned to glare at his partner, “but it won’t work if you’re not believable and you’ll never convince anyone you’re a body slave.”

“Why not?” Hercules was growing impatient. Iolaus had never doubted his abilities before and it was increasingly irritating to the demigod that his partner had chosen this moment to start. Grabbing the hunter’s shoulder’s roughly, Hercules grated, “Why?”

“Besides this attitude, you mean?” Iolaus jerked his arms free of Hercules’ bruising grip.

Hercules glared, chagrined. Autolycus chuckled, “he’s got you there, big guy.”

Iolaus stepped back and looked assessingly at Hercules, deliberately letting his heated gaze linger, travelling slowly up strong legs encased in woven leather. The hunter smiled, making it wide and predatory when he saw the demigod squirm, as Iolaus’ eyes lingered at the growing bulge at his groin. Letting his gaze slide higher, he stared at the demigod’s lightly-furred chest, taut nipples visibly outlined against the light linen. He watched Hercules’ heavy adam’s apple bob in the strong, deeply tanned throat, watched the long honey-coloured hair lift slightly in the soft breeze.

Staring directly into Hercules’ blue eyes, Iolaus commanded, “Strip.”

“What?!” Hercules squeaked, swallowing heavily.

“Exactly,” Iolaus grinned, turning away from the demigod to catch his own breath. He’d never stared so openly at his partner before, and his own cock was throbbing in his codpiece.

Taking several deep, calming breaths before turning back, Iolaus continued, “Okay then, for the sake of argument, let’s pretend you’re naked, Herc. Show me the grace and sensuality of a body slave.”

Arms crossed, he watched the demigod, waiting. When Hercules made no moves, Iolaus added, “Kneel. Present.”

Awkwardly, Hercules dropped down to his knees, unsure of what Iolaus expected.

“You see,” Iolaus directed to Autolycus before turning his attention back to Hercules. “Show Autolycus what an eager slut you are,” he ordered, deliberately using the cruder words.

Still Hercules hesitated, heat flushing his cheeks, his cock throbbing at Iolaus’ harsh tone and erotic words.

“A slave who needs commands repeated is a slave who needs to be punished.” Iolaus intoned.

Autolycus stared, eyes flicking between the demigod and the hunter, staying silent and unobtrusive in the background. The King of Thieves was not a stupid man and he realised there was much more going on here than just a run-of-the-mill rescue adventure, though he wasn’t sure if either of the other two men were ready to acknowledge that.

“I told you. He can’t do it.” There was no triumph in Iolaus’ tired voice. Only the vain hope that perhaps they could drop this subject and try to come up with a different plan... any plan.

“And I suppose you think you could do better.” It was a challenge. Hercules stood then, arms crossed, glaring at the small hunter, embarrassment flooding his cheeks with colour.

“With my hands tied behind my back,” Iolaus murmured, too softly to be heard.

“What?”

“I know I could.” Iolaus answered, resigned acceptance rather than bravado coloured his voice, knowing what would come next.

“Prove it.”

Iolaus closed his eyes a moment, taking a deep breath, making no further acknowledgement that he’d heard the challenge.

In the space of a breath, a heartbeat, Iolaus’ stance shifted, became languid, boneless. In that moment, instead of the hunter he knew, Hercules suddenly saw a soft, almost delicate man, a man to protect, a man made for pleasuring.

Slipping his vest from his shoulders, Iolaus slowly turned, letting the clothing fall to the ground. Head lowered, he smiled, softly, full of sensual promise, glancing up through lowered lashes, all his attention focused on the King of Thieves.

Autolycus swallowed heavily, struck dumb by the vision in front of him. This was a side to Iolaus he was sure he had never seen. This, he definitely would have remembered.

Sucking his middle finger into his mouth, Iolaus laved it suggestively, teasing it in and out of his moistening lips. His other hand smoothed over his chest, tweaking the nipples to tight pointing buds. With an audible pop, he pulled his finger free of his mouth and slid his hand down to rub the length of his cock, straining against his suddenly too tight codpiece.

Autolycus shifted in his seat, feeling as though his own pants were shrinking. He leaned back, gripping the boulder he was seated on tightly, unwilling to fall, afraid he’d wake to find this was the most erotic dream he’d had in his entire life.

With feline grace, Iolaus dropped to all fours, his back arched, tight leather stretching over his perfectly rounded, upthrust ass. Making his way with a slow, deliberate crawl over to Autolycus, he laid his head against the thief’s left knee, sliding his hands inch by torturous inch over Autolycus’ leather covered thigh toward his tight groin.

Hercules watched the display in wide-eyed, slack-jawed wonder. His hands clenched spasmodically open and closed at his sides as he fought the urge to adjust the throbbing heat between his legs.

Iolaus shifted closer to Autolycus, bringing both hands up to work quickly but gently, making short work of belts and buckles, shifting aside the clothing coming between himself and the heated flesh he was seeking to uncover.

Autolycus sighed, eyes flicking to the demigod who was silent witness, but drawn back like a moth to flame, his attention refocused on the golden vision kneeling at his feet.

Iolaus climbed the thief’s chest, shoving aside shirt and vest to display the flat brown nipples. Swirling his tongue through the dusting of dark hair there, he teased and suckled at the tiny peaks until his tormenting nibbles were drawing continuous soft moans from deep within Autolycus.

“Mmmm, Iolaus, please,” Autolycus mumbled, though whether it was a plea for more or mercy, even he himself wasn’t sure.

Turning his attention to tease along the trail of hair arrowing downward, Iolaus stopped to probe gently at Autolycus’ quivering navel. While his teeth and tongue continued their nibbling torment, he let his hands drift to work inside the thief’s pants, pulling the burgeoning erection hidden there to freedom.

Autolycus gasped, caught between the dual pleasure of Iolaus’ hot hands and the cool breeze whispering across his now openly displayed cock.

Iolaus grinned, puffing a pair of gusting warm breaths over its flared head before extending his tongue to circle wetly around the knob in his fingers, teasing lightly around the rim.

“Sweet Mother of Zeus!” Autolycus groaned, burying the fingers of his right hand in Iolaus’ golden curls, in a vain attempt to tug him closer.

Iolaus chuckled softly, extending his tongue once more to lick slow repeated swipes, root to tip, up the full length of Autolycus’ now painfully rigid cock. Pausing at the end of each stroke, he worked the tip of his tongue in rapid flicks over the tiny spot on the underside of the thief’s cock that caused him to gasp and writhe at the slightest touch.

At the same time, Iolaus continued working his fingers into Autolycus’ snug leathers to fondle at his still hidden balls. Fingering them gently, he rolled their plump weight between his fingers, eventually teasing behind them, seeking the sensitive skin hidden there.

Autolycus gasped, squirming against Iolaus’ fingers and lips, pleading wordlessly for more.

Sensing that the subject of his demonstration was rapidly reaching his pleasure threshold, Iolaus sank his lips around the length of Autolycus’ cock, suction hollowing his cheeks as he invited its thrust into his warm wet haven.

Autolycus shouted his release as his cock jerked and spasmed, shooting jet after jet of cream into Iolaus’ waiting mouth.

The hunter swallowed again and again, lapping up every drop of the bittersweet essence until Autolycus’ cock was once again back to its regular proportions, laying flaccid and wet against the thief’s hip.

Autolycus groaned, collapsing to rest in a crumpled heap on the ground, leaning exhausted against the boulder he’d been resting on. He struggled to clear his throat, rasping, “Now THAT was graceful...”

“Autolycus, don’t...” Hercules could barely force the words from his own throat.

“AND sensuous.” Autolycus continued, oblivious to the demigod’s threatening glare.

“Shut up, Autolycus.” Iolaus warned, quietly.

“All in all,” the thief panted, “I’d have to say Iolaus was the more convincing body slave.”

“SHUT UP, AUTOLYCUS!” The shout came simultaneously from both Hercules and Iolaus.

Hercules turned, stalking off in the direction of the nearby shore.

Reaching hesitantly toward Iolaus, Autolycus let his hand drop back to his side, murmuring, “You really were very good.”

“I know.” Iolaus whispered, eyes clenched shut.

“Iolaus?” Autolycus questioned gently.

“I guess,” Iolaus continued in a pained, cracking voice, “practice... makes perfect.” Iolaus didn’t look in Hercules’ direction. He knew the demigod was gone. Unwilling to meet Autolycus’ searching eyes, Iolaus turned to walk away as well, careful to go in the opposite direction of the one Hercules had taken.

Hercules stood staring at the waves, watching their smooth repetitive rush, in to the shore, and out again. It had no calming effect, instead matching the gentle motion of his hand on his own aching cock.

He had never felt so hot, so erotically charged, in his life as he had just now, watching Iolaus. Remembered images of smooth skin, bright blue eyes, wild curls, shining wet lips, teased at his feverish brain.

Idly, his mind tossed up an image of Iolaus, on his knees. But rather than Autolycus, it was Hercules that the hunter crawled to. It was the demigod’s throbbing length Iolaus swallowed. Hercules grunted, his cock jumping in his fist at the thought.

Then, just as suddenly the image in his mind’s eye changed. Now it was Hercules himself on his knees, crawling forward to worship at Iolaus’ cock, drawing the hunter’s heat into his own mouth.

Hercules gasped wildly, thrusting hard and fast into his own tight grip as his orgasm exploded, shooting his climax in a wide arc into the sea. He collapsed to his knees, legs trembling, too weak from the overwhelming release to stand.

He stayed there, head hanging, taking huge gasping breaths, as he rested, waiting for the shudders to subside and his heart to slow its thundering pace. Even as the rest of his body began to relax and steady, his mind whirled in increasingly wild circles.

He’d just experienced one of the most intense sexual episodes of his life. If just the thought of Iolaus could do that... if simply imagining his own submission to his partner caused such an incredible reaction, what would it be like to actually kneel at the hunter’s feet? To submit himself to Iolaus’ control? To feel the hunter’s strength... maybe even... wear his collar?

Hercules’ spent cock began to twitch again, perking at the very idea. Ignoring his body’s renewing interest, the demigod jumped to his feet, determined to speak to his partner.

Jogging back to their camp, he found Autolycus alone, still laying in the dazed heap where he’d collapsed earlier.

“Where did he go?” Hercules asked, desperately searching the clearing for any sign of Iolaus.

Autolycus glanced up, deep brown eyes soft and unfocussed. Opening his mouth to speak, no sound emerged. Instead he pointed, waving his hand in the direction opposite the path from which Hercules had returned.

Hercules hurried past Autolycus, nodding to acknowledge the thief’s help, muttering to himself as he ran, “Iolaus, where have you run off to now? We really need to talk.”

Iolaus walked, his mind a confused whirl, with only one thought sorting itself out of the confusion, “Get away.” Away from the camp, away from Hercules and Autolycus, away from this whole situation.

Eventually though, he slowed as other thoughts began to break through. Thoughts like, “Running isn’t the answer.”

He snorted derisively at that one and kept walking. Sometimes running was the only answer. He knew that from personal experience.

But now that one had broken through, the thoughts kept coming. “There are people back there who need your help.” He slowed further. “Not the least of them being your partner,” his thoughts chided.

“Hercules.” He stopped, dropping to sit against a nearby tree. He tossed his sword and kit to the ground next to him. Carrying his weapon had become such an ingrained habit lately he didn’t even remember having picked it up.

Leaning his head back to rest against the tree, he closed his eyes with a deep sigh. “Gods, I’m thirsty,” he muttered softly.

“Here you go, Sweetcheeks.”

Iolaus didn’t even need to open his eyes to recognise his company. “Aphrodite.” He looked up, taking in the vision in pink chiffon and lace standing before him.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, extending a large goblet of water in the hunter’s direction.

“What are you doing here?” Iolaus asked, making no move to accept the offer.

“You’re thirsty, aren’t you?”

“Thanks.” he answered, still making no move to accept. “What are you doing here?”

“You looked like you needed someone to talk to.” Aphrodite’s extended arm did not waver.

Sighing, Iolaus accepted the water then, taking several long swallows. “I suppose this means you were watching.”

“Well...” Aphrodite grinned, eyes sparkling, “even the Goddess of Love needs inspiration occasionally.” She giggled, “And you, Sweetcheeks, are inspiring.”

When Iolaus didn’t join in her chuckling laughter, she sobered. “Iolaus, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

Iolaus just sat, staring at the water goblet still in his hands.

With a quick, impatient wave, Aphrodite banished it, “Well, aren’t we?”

Managing a wan smile, Iolaus nodded.

“Well then, talk to me. Are you all right?”

“What, you mean this Autolycus thing?” he asked, surprised.

“That’s part of it,” she answered.

“I’m fine. He hides it fairly deeply, but Autolycus really is a decent guy.” He smiled, wryly, “and yes, he’s attractive too. It wasn’t exactly an unpleasant experience.”

“Not like...”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Iolaus interrupted firmly, picking up his sword and digging a whetstone out of his kit. Settling into a more comfortable position, the hunter began running long strokes down the sword’s length, savagely working at the already sharp blade. “That part of my life is over. It has nothing to do with this.”

“You know it’s always there, Sweetcheeks. It’s part of what’s made you who you are.”

“And this is a good thing?” Iolaus asked, turning pain-filled eyes on the Goddess of Love.

“The end result... you... are a very ‘good thing’, Iolaus. You turned toward Love, even after all that happened to you, instead of away.”

“But only when I can be in control.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be the one in control Sweetcheeks,” she murmured with a distant, knowing smile, “especially when you find lovers willing to be controlled. None of your partners have ever left your bed unsatisfied.”

Iolaus gave her an incredulous look.

“Believe me,” Aphrodite added, with a giggle, “I hear no end of it. You would not believe how many scrolls show up at my Temples with your name on them, Sweetcheeks. I don’t know how you keep up.” She snickered.

Iolaus didn’t acknowledge the pun. “It’s simple, Aphrodite, the alternative is to be alone. I couldn’t stand that, not after...” Iolaus’ voice faltered to silence.

“But what about you?” Aphrodite asked, “Wouldn’t you be happier finding one person, you know, your true love, the other half of your soul?”

“I’ll never find that. There’s no one who’d love me... not the real me.”

“You’re probably right, Iolaus,” the Goddess of Love agreed, softly. “And do you know why?”

Iolaus’ heart clenched at her matter-of-fact agreement. Secretly he’d always hoped that he could be loved. But Aphrodite, of all the Gods, would know. Voice thick with unshed tears, he acknowledged what he now knew to be truth, “Because no one who knew... who found out... no one could forgive...”

“You’re wrong about that Sweetcheeks.” Aphrodite soothed, before scolding sternly, “And you’ve done nothing that needs forgiveness!” She inhaled a deep, calming breath. Unlike the Gods, humans could be so obtuse, “But that’s not the real reason, anyway.”

The steady rhythm of stone stroking blade faltered as Iolaus shot a doubtful look at the beautiful blond.

“Iolaus, how can anyone love that man, that ‘real you’, when you keep him so deeply hidden and never share him with anyone?”

Silence was her only answer. She let that sink in a moment before abruptly changing the subject. “But I’m not letting you distract me from my original question. Are you all right?”

“I told you...” Iolaus shrugged.

“No. You didn’t. You said you enjoyed your little interlude with the thief. And quite frankly, that was obvious. And also not what I was asking.”

“Well what then?” The steady strokes of stone along blade picked up their pace once more.

“I’m talking about you and my brother. Why are you being so obstinate with Hercules about this plan of his? It is the only way you’ll get in to that compound, you know.”

“I know. It’s just...”

“What?” Aphrodite asked, patience with this conversation wearing thin.

Iolaus hung his head, eyes closed. “It’s... well, he doesn’t realise it, but he’s asking me to live out my deepest, darkest fantasy.”

“So? What’s wrong with that?” the Goddess of Love asked, exasperated.

“What’s wrong with it?” Iolaus’ head shot up, golden curls flying as he shot the blond an incredulous look. “Aphrodite... I love him!”

“Do you really?” She feigned shock, “I hadn’t noticed.”

Iolaus swallowed heavily. How transparent had his feelings been? He prayed it was just a Goddess of Love thing. “You knew?”

“Well d’uh! So you love him. I still don’t see a problem.”

“Don’t you see, I’ll probably give it away, and even if I didn’t, then what happens afterward? How do I go back from living my dream come true, to just being friends?”

Aphrodite barely opened her mouth to answer when Iolaus started again, “Oh Gods, and what if I can’t control myself? What if I take advantage of the situation and use him for my own gratification? He’d never forgive me, that’s what. I’m going to lose my best friend in the world over this stupid plan.”

“Are you finished?” Aphrodite asked dryly.

Iolaus glared.

“First of all, why do you need to keep your love for him secret? Don’t you think he loves you too?”

“He loves me like a brother. And that’s enough. It’s more than someone like me deserves.”

“Okay, stop that right now! You know as well as I do that you were only a boy, you had no control over what happened then, Iolaus. That’s why you need the control now, isn’t it?” She continued without waiting for an answer, “And I know my little brother. Hercules would never judge you...”

“Maybe he wouldn’t. I just... I don’t want his pity either. Besides, he deserves someone better, someone whole and loving, someone his equal.” His hands stilled their sharp motions, as he continued softly, “and that’s not me.”

“I really think you ought to talk to him about that, Sweetcheeks,” Aphrodite called with a gentle murmur as she disappeared. “He’ll be here shortly.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Iolaus shouted to the empty air where she’d stood. Lowering his voice he continued to mutter to himself, resuming the sharp strokes down the length of his sword, “he’s probably on his way here to tell me the plan’s off, the partnership’s over. Probably recognised the experience behind that little display. Probably figured out enough to realise he needs a new partner, a better, more honest partner.”

Fighting back against the clenching pain in his chest and burning eyes at the thought, Iolaus continued his rapid strokes with the whetstone. Every step of his big partner’s approach echoed louder in his ears, signalling to Iolaus the beginning of the end, the looming loss of the most important person in his life.

“Iolaus?” Hercules asked as he closed the distance between them. “Were you just talking to someone? I thought I heard voices.”

Silence was his only answer, as Iolaus tried unsuccessfully to swallow past the thickness in his throat.

“You’re not planning on using that on anyone I know, are you?” Hercules’ attempt at humour fell flat. “Iolaus?”

Iolaus clenched his eyes. Perhaps this was to be his penance. Now, before Hercules ended their partnership anyway, it was time to tell him the truth. He swallowed heavily. This way at least, when Hercules left, the demigod would know he was doing the right thing. And he’d be free to find himself the partner he deserved.

“So... now you know.” Iolaus spoke so quietly, Hercules had to strain to hear.

“Know what?” Hercules asked, confused.

“Don’t play games, Herc. You saw what I did. You know what I was.”

“Iolaus,” Hercules pulled the smaller man around to face him, “no games, not between us. We’re partners, remember?”

“Are we?” burst past Iolaus’ lips before he could stop it.

“What?” Dumbfounded, Hercules could not imagine that Iolaus meant what it sounded like.

“Still partners.” Iolaus answered.

“What!? Iolaus, what are you talking about? Where is this coming from?” Hercules felt as though everything was spinning out of control around him, as if he’d come into a play in the middle and obviously just missed some vital revelation.

“Once a whore, always a whore. Isn’t that what they say?” Iolaus could not keep the bitterness from his voice.

“Iolaus! What...”

“I was so young when I ran away from home. Foolish and headstrong. But I was making a living as a thief... enough to survive at least.”

Hercules settled beside his friend, not interrupting. Iolaus never talked much about his life before they met. Maybe it was time for Iolaus to tell this story. And time for Hercules to hear it.

“I met this boy. Another thief. He was so handsome and friendly, and obviously more successful a thief than me. Vyros let me stay with him, share his food... and his bed.” Iolaus paused momentarily, lost in the memories of the good times the boys had shared, before... he swallowed heavily, a shutter falling into place over his eyes, emotion draining from his voice. “And I was too stupid to realise I was being set up.”

Hercules reached out, across the hunter’s back, resting his hand on the tight shoulder farthest from him, rubbing in a short soothing motion. Iolaus was too deep in the memories to even notice the loose embrace.

“One day Vyros told me he had a plan, a job for us to do together. You know, a thief’s dream, the one big score... enough to retire on.” Iolaus’ voice was a monotone now, showing no emotion whatsoever. “And I fell for it,” he snorted.

“We snuck in with no problems and made our way down to the dungeon where the treasure was supposed to be hidden. I should’ve realised it was all too easy.” Iolaus clenched his fists, to stop their shaking. “Brakus and his guards were waiting for us. I... I screamed for Vyros to run, it was a trap. Someone grabbed me from behind. I... Vyros...” Taking several deep, calming breaths, Iolaus pushed the emotion back. Reminding himself sharply, this was all over, years ago.

Hercules fought the urge to pull the shaking hunter into his arms, unsure of Iolaus’ reaction. And because he was afraid to interrupt, to push him too far, knowing they both needed to hear all of it, out loud. To release it once and for all.

“Brakus paid Vyros, ‘for delivery of the goods’ he said.” Iolaus barked a painful laugh, withdrawing visibly from the pain to finish the story in a dull, dry-eyed monotone. “They beat me, took turns raping my mouth and my ass. After they’d all been satisfied, they beat me some more, chained me to the wall, and then the rapes started all over again. When they were finally tired of their games and I was in too much pain to even move, they left me alone, laying on the dirt floor, covered in my own blood, mingled with their stink and sweat and semen.”

Hercules let his own tears fall then, tears that Iolaus could apparently no longer shed, tears for the beautiful young man who had been so betrayed and tortured. And for the pain his friend still carried, so long after the physical wounds had healed.

“Brakus kept me chained down there. I have no idea how long. It was so cold and dark. I was so alone. I suppose that was his plan. I soon craved the company, the comfort of touch, even the sex, because it meant I wasn’t alone.” Iolaus didn’t dare look up, not wanting to see the contempt in Hercules’ blue eyes.

“By the time he let me leave the dungeon, he’d turned me into his whore. That’s what he called me, ‘whore’, and I learned quickly to answer to it and to please him or whoever was with him when he did call. If I ever failed to please, I’d be whipped and worse, returned to that cold dark prison.”

“I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t managed to escape when I did,” Iolaus shrugged, “probably dead.”

Hercules felt his heart squeeze at the dull matter-of-fact acceptance the hunter showed over that statement, that he’d been so close to losing Iolaus before they’d ever met.

“But I ran away, hid. And then I met this young demigod who befriended me, only the God’s know why, and convinced me to join him at Cheiron’s academy. I don’t think he knew it, but he saved my life that day.”

Hercules returned Iolaus’ small smile then, tightening his arm around the smaller man’s shoulders in a short hug, before loosening his grip once more.

“I was terrified those first few weeks, afraid to believe in him, afraid to trust, afraid I’d be recognised as Brakus’ whore and forced to leave, and especially afraid that if I stayed in one place so long Brakus would come looking for me.”

“He did,” Hercules interrupted quietly.

“What? When?”

“It was shortly after we’d arrived, maybe the third week we were at the academy. You were mucking stalls if I remember. Cheiron’s punishment for that first big prank you pulled. Remember? With the chickens and the catapult and the blue paint?” Hercules chuckled.

Iolaus managed a wry, half-smile in return, “Yeah, that was a good one.”

“Well, this guy calling himself Brakus showed up with a pair of his henchmen. Said he was looking for you. I didn’t like his attitude. So I ‘discussed’ it with him and convinced him that he and his oafish friends would be better off leaving you alone.”

“You did?”

“Yeah... I wish I’d known then...”

“Why? So you could’ve pointed the way, or delivered me in person?” The bitterness had crept back into the hunter’s pained voice.

Hercules pulled Iolaus’ chin around forcing him to meet his own intense gaze. “If I’d known how he hurt you, I would’ve broken more than his jaw.”

Iolaus sighed, accepting Hercules’ unspoken rebuke. “I had so much hate in me, Herc. But I think it was that hate that kept me me, until I could escape.”

“And you let that hate and fear go. You became the good man I always knew you would. Don’t ever be ashamed, Iolaus, be proud, of all you’ve accomplished.”

Iolaus swallowed heavily, eyes burning, at Hercules’ faith.

“No matter what happened in the past Iolaus, you’re my best friend and my partner. You always have been and you always will be. Nothing will change that. I love you, Iolaus.”

“You’re like a brother to me too, Herc,” Iolaus smiled hesitantly, almost afraid to believe what the demigod was saying. Hercules still considered them friends, was willing to stay partners, even knowing the truth.

“No, Iolaus,” Hercules blushed, remembering what had happened earlier on the beach. He smoothed a large hand along Iolaus’ jaw, pulling him closer. “It’s more than that, I love you....” He leaned closer for a kiss.

“No!” Iolaus shouted, pulling away, panicked. “You can’t... I won’t... it’s only friendship you feel, Hercules, that’s all.” He dropped to his knees, face hidden in his hands. No, no, no, please, his mind screamed, you’ll ruin everything! Nothing more than friendship!

Hercules cursed himself. Stupid, stupid! Weren’t you listening to what he told you? If you want him in your life, then accept what he can give, don’t push him away wanting more than you can have.

Hercules stood, walking quickly over to where the hunter knelt silently rocking back and forth with his arms hugged tightly around himself.

“Iolaus?” he called softly, before placing a hand gently against the closest shoulder, careful not to frighten.

Iolaus stopped rocking, listening intently.

“I’m sorry, Iolaus,” Hercules held out his other hand, open-palmed, inviting Iolaus to stand. “Still friends?” he asked quietly, praying the answer would be yes.

Iolaus looked up then, surprised to see the earnest appeal in the demigod’s eyes. Perhaps the Gods were giving him one more chance to get this right. Accepting Hercules offered hand, he stood, daring to ask a question of his own, “Still partners?”

Grinning, Hercules took that as a yes, and pulled the Iolaus into a huge bear hug, wrapping his massive arms around the smaller man, lifting him completely off the ground. Then, realising his actions might be misconstrued, he dropped Iolaus back to his feet, silently vowing not to do anything to make the hunter ever want to leave him again. “Partners,” he confirmed, offering his hand.

Iolaus closed his eyes, savouring the short embrace, before admonishing himself to enjoy the moments he had with Hercules, and stop this fruitless yearning for what would never be. “Friends,” he agreed, clasping Hercules’ arm.

Letting go, he turned to pick up his sword and kit, motioning that Hercules join him as he began walking back in the direction of their camp. “So, Hercules,” he began hesitantly, “about this plan of yours...”

“No Iolaus, I won’t do it.” Hercules growled as he marched back toward their campsite.

“Hercules, it’s the only way.” Iolaus stumbled, hurrying to keep up with the demigod’s longer stride.

“I had no idea what I was asking. I can’t do that to you... I won’t!”

“Hercules,” Iolaus puffed, trying to keep up.

Autolycus frowned, eyes flicking back and forth between Hercules and Iolaus as they stormed back into the clearing, mid-argument.

“No, Iolaus, it was a stupid plan. We’ll find another way.” Hercules stopped, turning to watch Iolaus as he sat on a nearby tree stump to catch his breath.

Iolaus sighed, a little surprised to find himself suddenly arguing for this plan. “Herc, you were right. There’s no other way.”

Hercules’ eyes drifted lower, not meeting Iolaus’ sharp gaze. “No Iolaus, you were right all along. I didn’t realise what I was asking of you. And you were right about me too.” He looked deeply into the blue eyes watching him so intently, “I couldn’t do that, be that.” Not with anyone but you, he added silently.

“Wait a minute,” Autolycus scowled, eyes travelling back and forth between the demigod and the hunter. “Either Iolaus scrambled my brain, or I missed something.” He looked at Iolaus, “You... weren’t you Mr. It’s-A-Bad-Idea?” He turned to Hercules, “And last I looked you were Mr. I-Can-Do-It, It’s-The-Only-Way.”

Hercules flushed, looking away as he mumbled, “That was before.”

Iolaus sighed, standing again to walk over to his partner. “Herc, nothing’s changed. You were right. Young men are going missing. We need to do something. And this is the only way we’ll get in to Nysus’ compound.”

“But, Iolaus,” Hercules started.

“It’ll be fine.” Iolaus interrupted, clasping his hand against Hercules’ shoulder. Speaking softly for Hercules’ ears only, praying that what he said was true, he added, “I can do this. And so can you.” Stepping back again, he let his voice carry, “All you need is a few pointers, a little training.”

Hercules swallowed heavily. To be trained, to serve Iolaus. He clenched his fists, feeling his body begin to respond to the very idea.

Stop it! He commanded himself harshly, mentally scrambling to find something else to think about... the Hydra... Echidna... Hera and Zeus, together. Shuddering, his body sagged.

Feeling Hercules’ shudder, Iolaus squeezed the hand still resting on the demigod’s shoulder. “You can trust me. I’ll protect you.” Even from myself, he silently vowed.

“Iolaus,” blue eyes met blue, “that’s not even a question. I do trust you, completely.”

“Good. Then we’re gonna do this, right?” He looked from Hercules to Autolycus.

“Right.” Autolycus nodded.

“Right.” Hercules sighed his reluctant agreement.

“Okay,” Autolycus sucked in a deep breath, “I’m kind of new to this whole hero business. What do we do first?”

“Well,” Iolaus shrugged, “I suppose I’ll go see Hephaestus about getting some... tools of the trade.” He grinned, the emotion not quite warming his eyes. “I guess you two can wait here.”

“Iolaus,” Hercules called, softly.

Iolaus ignored him, continuing in a bright voice, “Maybe you should work on that ‘grace and sensuality’ a bit. Autolycus can give you some pointers. I’ll be back soon.”

“Iolaus,” Hercules tried again.

The hunter looked up, “It’ll be fine. You’ll see,” and turned away, walking toward the edge of the clearing as he called, “Hephaestus!” and disappeared mid-step.

Autolycus turned slowly toward Hercules with a grin, “So you wanna work on that sensuality thing?”

Hercules slammed his fist down, pulverising the small boulder beside him with the single blow.

“O-kay,” Autolycus murmured, stepping back, wide-eyed, “so, that would be a no.”

“What is it you need Iolaus?” the God of Fire asked, without turning his attention away from his work, the heavy hammer striking a shower of sparks with each blow.

Iolaus flushed slightly, hoping Hephaestus would think it was from the forge’s heat. “Well, it’s... I don’t want you to get the wrong idea...”

Curiosity piqued at Iolaus’ reticence, Hephaestus stopped his work to look closely at the hunter. “Iolaus?”

“Herc and I need a favour.”

“Just tell me. You know what I owe you.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna say it... wrist and ankle shackles, a collar, and a few other things...” Iolaus’ voice faded as he watched the God’s eyes widen.

“Oh... I see.” Hephaestus grinned.

“No, it’s not like that.” Iolaus waved wildly, shaking his head. “It’s only a role we’ll be playing.”

“Role playing is good.” The God’s grin grew.

“No!” Iolaus blushed, “I mean, it’s like a disguise.”

“Uh huh. So, who are the ‘props’ for?” Hephaestus chuckled.

“They need to fit Herc.” Iolaus mumbled.

“Okay.” Hephaestus settled down to business. “Do you want them to sap his strength while he’s wearing them or just be strong enough that he can’t break free?”

“You can do that?” Iolaus asked, mind awhirl with the possibilities.

The God of Fire snorted, amused, “Of course.”

“Well... he’ll probably need his strength. I’m sure there will be fighting before we’re done.” Iolaus was thinking out loud. A vision of Hercules, bound and unable to defend himself appeared in his mind. His decision was made, “It’s too dangerous. I won’t risk him. Just make them strong enough to hold him.”

“And the release mechanism?” Hephaestus asked.

“What do you mean?” Iolaus frowned, confused.

“Keys, voice, touch, what?” the God explained.

“Can you...” Iolaus hesitated, thinking. He swallowed heavily, forging ahead, “Okay this is what I want... I want a collar, a gag, wrist and ankle shackles, that open and close only for me, touch sensitive. Once I lock them onto him, they stay until I open them. Unless something happens to me. If I get killed or otherwise incapacitated, then I want Herc to be able to remove them himself.”

“You’ve thought about this before...” Hephaestus grinned, knowingly.

Iolaus ignored the comment, “There’s another thing I want. I need to be able to protect him.”

“Okay,” Hephaestus agreed, waiting for the hunter to explain.

Iolaus flushed, but continued, determined, “A belt. That only I can open. It’ll go around his waist with a strap between his legs front to back. It’ll hold a plug in the back and have open rings in the front to lift and display his... assets.”

Hephaestus chuckled. “You really have thought about this.”

“It’s not about me controlling him.” Iolaus insisted.

“I didn’t...”

“It’s about protecting him as much as I can.” Iolaus interrupted, almost shouting, “No one will force my sl-... I mean, my partner into anything.”

Hephaestus studied Iolaus closely, “You love him, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” the hunter turned away, shaking his head.

“Of course it does, Iolaus.”

“You’re starting to sound like Aphrodite.”

Blushing, Hephaestus murmured, “Well, ‘Dite’s usually right about these things. She is the professional.”

“He deserves better.” Iolaus mumbled, softly.

“I felt the same way about ‘Dite, before you brought her to me. But she looked beneath the surface,” Hephaestus turned away, as if to hide the scars, and the arm cradled tight against his side, from Iolaus’ sight, “she found the deeper parts other people didn’t bother to notice.” Limping toward the golden bust he’d fashioned of the Goddess of Love, Hephaestus added defiantly, “And she loves me.” Almost daring the hunter to disagree.

Iolaus followed the God of Fire, resting his hand against a scarred shoulder, “She knows quality goods when she sees them.” He grinned.

“Iolaus,” Hephaestus smiled back, clasping the hunter’s hand tightly. “So does Hercules.”

“I know that Herc loves me,” Iolaus hedged.

“Don’t you trust him?” Hephaestus asked, puzzled.

“Of course I do. Herc’s saved my life more times than I can count. He’s even faced Hades to bring me back.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight. You love him,” Hephaestus frowned.

“Yes... I do.” Iolaus smiled.

“He loves you,” the God continued.

Iolaus nodded.

“You want him.”

Iolaus blushed his agreement.

“And he wants you.” Hephaestus made it a statement.

“He’s said as much.” Iolaus looked away.

“You trust him with your life?” Hephaestus asked.

“Without question.” The answer was firm.

“Then Iolaus,” the God insisted, exasperated, “trust him with your heart. You two are meant to be together.”

Iolaus hesitated, “You really think so?” A small smile fought to break free. He wanted to believe... so badly.

“I’m sure of it. It’s not for Hercules’ sake, but it’s your own fear that’s holding you back. Trust him. He won’t let you down.”

“I...”

“Trust him.”

“The toys?” Iolaus was bouncing, his grin incandescent, anxious now to get back to his partner and confess his love.

“I’ll bring them to you as soon as they’re ready. Go. Talk to Hercules.”

“I’m sorry Autolycus,” Hercules muttered, brushing the dust that used to be a boulder off his hands. “It’s not you.”

“Well, what’s the problem then?”

“It’s just... I feel so helpless,” he whispered, crushing another rock in his fist.

“Look, just pretend that I’m Iolaus.” Autolycus offered.

“What!?”

“It’ll make it easier. Pretend it’s Iolaus that’s watching you, waiting for you to perform.”

“Autolycus, I,” Hercules hesitated.

“He’s the one you want, right?”

“Well, yes,” blushing, the demigod added, “but he doesn’t...”

Autolycus interrupted, “Don’t think about that. I doubt it’s true anyway.” He hesitated, looking away before adding softly, “No one in their right mind could refuse your offer.”

“Autolycus?” the demigod questioned, eyes wide.

“Never mind that, Hercules.” Autolycus swallowed heavily, “So are we gonna try this again or what?”

“I can’t.” Hercules sighed.

“Why not?” Autolycus asked softly.

“I’m just, I’m so confused right now. I... I can’t think straight. Can’t sort it out.” The demigod stared at his own clenched fists.

“So try. Tell me, what’re you feeling?”

Iolaus bounced toward the clearing, grinning wildly, impatient to find his partner. He slowed as he overheard Hercules and Autolycus talking, not wanting to interrupt.

“I’m just so full of rage, so disgusted and disappointed. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to face him again.”

Iolaus stopped, heart shattered at the words he’d just heard Hercules mutter. He turned, running until he could no longer hear anything but the thundering of his own heart in his ears, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Disappointed with Iolaus?” Autolycus asked, surprised. He had no idea what Hercules and Iolaus had discussed while they were gone, but it was obviously something serious.

“Never! He’s not to blame.” Hercules insisted, grabbing Autolycus by the shirt.

Forcing himself to remain calm, the thief asked, “Then what?”

Hercules sighed, setting Autolycus back down. “Part of the anger is aimed at those who hurt him. But mostly I’m frustrated with myself. Why didn’t I see it? Why didn’t I help him? He shared his deepest pain with me and what did I do? I tried to push myself on him without even thinking about his feelings.”

Autolycus gaped. There was obviously much more to this story than he knew. More than either man would likely to be willing to share, but he could probably guess some of it.

“Oh yeah... look at me.” The demigod continued, harshly, “I’m Hercules. The big hero. He should be falling on his knees with gratitude because I want him.” He shook his head, resting his face in his hands. “I’m such a fool.”

“No. You’re not,” Autolycus insisted, adding, “and neither is Iolaus. He loves you. Talk to him.”

Hercules opened his mouth to speak, but the thief interrupted, “Look, I don’t know what happened.” He held up a hand, forestalling Hercules’ comment. “But give him some time. Don’t give up on him. Not if you really love him. Because a blind man could see that he loves you.”

Hercules looked at Autolycus, the hope burning bright in his eyes.

“Now, if I were Iolaus, what would you do?” the thief grinned.

Hercules smiled, reaching out to take Autolycus’ face in gentle hands, pulling him close. Leaning down just a little, he teased his tongue along the thief’s closed lips. Nibbling lightly on the swelling lower lip, tickled by the unfamiliar moustache, he chuckled, tempting Autolycus to open his lips and join the exploration.

Autolycus sighed, eyes drifting shut, completely lost to the world. Aware of nothing beyond the demigod’s mouth on his.

“You seem to be improving,” Iolaus spoke, dry-eyed and subdued.

“Iolaus,” Hercules jumped back with a huge smile for his partner. “You’re back.”

Iolaus didn’t answer, walking instead to his small pack of supplies. After rummaging a moment, he muttered to no one in particular, “I’m going to go find some rabbits for supper.”

Autolycus shared a worried glance with the demigod.

“Iolaus?”

The hunter didn’t look up, “Hephaestus will be bringing the toys as soon as they’re ready.”

“Iolaus?” Hercules asked again, stepping directly into the smaller man’s path.

Iolaus closed his eyes a moment, then smiled brightly at the demigod, “I told you before Hercules, everything’s going to be fine.” Stepping around Hercules, Iolaus called back over his shoulder without turning, “and tomorrow, if you’re going to be a body slave, I think we’d better start some serious training.”

Hercules watched the hunter’s retreating back a moment before turning a confused and almost wounded glance on Autolycus.

The thief shrugged, equally confused, “That was odd. Something must be up. Go talk to him.”

Hercules nodded, hoping Iolaus would be more forthcoming when it was just the two of them. He clapped a hand on Autolycus’ shoulder and then headed off in the same direction as his partner.

Autolycus watched the demigod go, shaking his head at the way these two grown men were dancing around the simple fact that they loved each other. Love he snorted to himself, in his own experience, was much more trouble than it was worth. Aphrodite forbid that I should ever behave so foolishly, he silently vowed.

“Iolaus,” Hercules called, stepping up behind the hunter just as he sprang the snare, missing by a fraction of a second as the hare bounded away, startled by the demigod.

Iolaus sighed.

“Sorry,” Hercules grinned sheepishly.

Iolaus shrugged, saying only, “maybe we’ll try fish for supper.” He turned, stalking off in the direction of the beach, not waiting to see whether or not the demigod followed.

Hercules scowled, disturbed by this new distance between himself and his partner. The silence stretched and grew as they walked. Silence between them was not a completely uncommon thing, though Iolaus usually tended to fill most quiet moments with enthusiastic chatter, stories or jokes. But this was not the comfortable silence borne of easy camaraderie and shared company. This silence was tense and oppressive, and only growing more so as the moments passed.

Hercules shifted, growing truly concerned. Something was definitely bothering Iolaus. Once again, Hercules fervently wished that he’d never brought up this stupid plan. “Iolaus,” he tried again.

The hunter jumped slightly at this sudden break in the silence. Before Hercules could finish, Iolaus jumped in, “Look Herc, I know you don’t want to be sitting here with me...”

Hercules scowled, where in Tartarus had he gotten that idea? “I...”

Iolaus didn’t look at Hercules, but continued on, “and I’d really rather be alone right now too.”

Hercules fell silent, torn between his desire to confront Iolaus, to find out what was bothering him, to try and bridge this new distance between them, and the equally desperate fear that to do so would push the hunter even farther away, would strain the bonds of their friendship beyond the breaking point.

Iolaus made the decision for him. Standing abruptly, the hunter said, “Supper’s up to you. I need to take a walk.” And he left, stalking quickly away from the shoreline before Hercules even had a chance to respond.

Iolaus walked back into camp, flopping down heavily against his bedroll. He sucked in a deep breath, hoping to loosen the squeezing in his chest. Pressing his palms against his eyes, he sighed. Hercules was obviously not going to make this easy on him. Not for the first time, Iolaus wished they’d never heard of Lycinae, and the mysterious disappearances. Maybe then, none of this would ever have happened.

He sighed again. That wasn’t true, and he knew it. His feelings for Hercules had been growing for a long time, coming near to overwhelming him whenever they were forced to risk their lives in battle. Choking in their jealous intensity whenever Hercules expressed a romantic interest in anyone, occasions that were thankfully rare of late. This situation did nothing more than bring the tensions that had been growing so slowly up to the surface, forcing his hand. The end result, being forced to leave Hercules, would have come eventually. He only wished he’d had a little more time. Time to shore his heart against the pain, time to prepare for the inevitable... for being alone.

Autolycus gave the hunter a sharp, measuring glance, seeing the slumped posture and tired expression. “So,” he asked casually, “how’d it go?”

“Fine.” Iolaus responded dismissively, rubbing the back of his neck, “Hephaestus is one of the few Gods I trust.”

Autolycus hesitated only a moment, aware that Iolaus knew as well as he did that he wasn’t asking about the God. Deciding to follow the hunter’s lead, he nodded, “No problems then?”

“Just nearly terminal embarrassment,” the hunter muttered, before relating his conversation with the God of Fire.

Hercules lifted the long string of fish and headed back toward camp, deciding to leave Autolycus to deal with the fish while he went in search of Iolaus. He was determined to clear the air with his partner once and for all.

But the closer he got to camp, the more it sounded like... laughter? Wondering, the demigod picked up his pace, rounding the last tangle of bushes at the edge of the small clearing to see his partner and the King of Thieves both bent over, grasping at each other, giggling uncontrollably. Surprised, he jumped back out of sight, mind reeling with the image of Iolaus’ laughing face. Apparently his partner wasn’t being completely honest with him. It was obvious that Iolaus didn’t want to be alone, so much as he wanted to be away from Hercules.

Walking slowly away from the campsite, Hercules found a nice open spot with a large flat boulder and went to work cleaning the fish for supper.

When Hercules returned to the clearing, the two men were deep in quiet conversation.

“... should be ready by noon tomorrow. Can you be back by then?” Iolaus was asking.

“Definitely. Not a problem.” Autolycus grinned.

“Okay. I’m gonna have to trust your judgement on this. Don’t let me down.”

Autolycus merely grinned, waving a short salute to both men before turning and jogging off in the direction of Lycinae.

“Where’s he going?” Hercules asked.

“Lycinae. He’s gonna pick up a few things and be back tomorrow.”

“Oh. So, I guess it’s just you and me tonight then?” Hercules asked softly, hoping that maybe now they’d have that chance to talk, to sort things out and get back to the truth between them.

Several hours later, after the fish had been cooked and eaten and the dishes cleaned, Hercules and Iolaus still sat in uncomfortable silence, staring at the flickering campfire between them.

Hercules had finally given up. Each attempt he made at conversation was met by one word answers or non-committal shrugs. The hunter avoided his gaze completely and seemed almost to be trying to disappear, hiding behind the fire’s small flames.

Iolaus shivered, not so much in reaction to the cooling night air as to the ever-growing rift he could feel between himself and the demigod who was his partner. Or had been. He hugged himself, wrapping his arms tightly around his knees. Best to start preparing himself, steeling his heart. When this is finally over Hercules will leave, and I’ll be alone again. His chest constricted painfully, and he clenched his eyes shut.

“Iolaus?” Hercules had been watching his partner carefully, trying in vain to read his thoughts.

The hunter sucked in a deep breath. “I’m tired. I think I’m gonna hit the sack. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

“Iolaus,” Hercules whispered, “talk to me.”

Iolaus blinked, pretending not to hear as he rolled out his blankets. He’s going to leave, he reminded himself sharply, get used to it. “G’night, Herc.”

Hercules woke again several hours later. The cloudy overcast sky blocked what little light the stars and crescent moon might have provided, leaving the night shadowed and dark. Only the meagre glowing embers from what was left of the campfire lit the gloom.

He scowled peering into the darkness. Something woke him...

“No,” Iolaus moaned, thrashing in his sleep.

Iolaus looked around wildly. When did it get so dark and foggy? Where was everyone?

A dark, looming shadow approached; harsh, barking laughter surrounded him. “Whatsa matter little whore? All alone again?” The mocking laughter grew in volume. “I told you before that you’re mine. Nobody’ll want my cast-offs.”

The fog swirled as the figure moved. The laughter didn’t stop. “Come back to where you know you belong. You don’t want to be alone do you? Crawl to me and beg prettily enough and you can be my whore again.”

“No,” Iolaus moaned, tossing his head, even as the nightmare vision changed. The cruel laughter faded away as the fog swirled again, clearing to reveal a long line of people drifting past him as he stood watching unable to move. Ania and their son, his father Skouros, his mother Erytheia, Vyros, Orestes, Alcmene, Hector, Liandra, and so many more. All sad faces, some whispered good-bye as they left, but most did not even look back before vanishing into the mists.

Last in the drifting line was Hercules, “I’m sorry Iolaus,” he called softly.

“Herc, no please, don’t leave me.” Iolaus cried out, reaching in vain toward the demigod’s drifting image. “Don’t leave me alone, please.” Tears spiked his eyelashes.

Hercules started at Iolaus’ desperate plea. Obviously in the throes of some kind of nightmare, the hunter thrashed and pleaded, reaching out wildly into the empty air.

The demigod didn’t hesitate. No matter what else was going on between them, Iolaus was his best friend. More than that, even if neither of them ever acknowledged it out loud again, the small blond was the man he loved, and Hercules could not leave him to suffer alone. Even at the risk of driving the wedge between them even deeper when Iolaus woke.

Crawling around the campfire to Iolaus’ side, Hercules pulled the hunter into his arms, whispering, “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here.”

Iolaus sighed in relief, grasping at the man who’d come back through the swirling fog to take him in his arms. “Please Herc,” he whispered, “I don’t want to be alone. Please let me stay with you.”

Lost in the past, shrouded in dream mist, Iolaus ground his hips against the demigod’s, Hercules’ image suddenly blending with Brakus’. Please him or he’ll send you back to the darkness alone, repeated like a mantra in his head. Pressing sucking, nibbling kisses over the chest he faced, Iolaus wrapped his fingers around both straining shafts, pumping them together. Desperation lent urgency to his hold. “Let me make it good,” he whispered, “I’ll be so good if you let me stay.”

Hercules gasped as Iolaus voraciously attacked, arching into the hunter’s kisses and caresses. The softly whispered promises drew erotic visions behind his closed lids, lighting a fire that spread wildly throughout his body. His passions flamed higher at fingers squeezing around his aching erection, pressing it tightly against the hunter’s own velvet heat.

He threw back his head with a groan, it was so much better than he’d imagined, to share the hunter’s fire, feel the matching passion. He pumped into Iolaus’ tight grip. “Oh, Iolaus...”

Iolaus.

Hercules snapped his head up, eyes wide. Dammit, he berated himself harshly, what in all Tartarus do you think you’re doing, taking advantage of his nightmare like this? He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but you know he doesn’t want this!

“Iolaus, don’t.” Hercules groaned, grabbing the hunter’s biceps to hold him away.

Iolaus struggled momentarily before his eyes drifted open and awareness returned. The demigod had a tight grip on his arms, holding him back, while he had a tight grip on...

“Oh Gods.” He squeezed his eyes shut. He’d never forced himself on anyone, until now. “Herc, I’m so sorry.” Iolaus whispered, before tearing himself out of his partner’s grasp and running away into the night.

“Iolaus!” Hercules called after his fleeing partner, “I didn’t mean...” he let his voice fade away, as Iolaus disappeared into the darkness.

Iolaus gasped for breath, arms pulled tight across his aching abdomen, seeing once more the pain in Hercules’ eyes as he pushed Iolaus away, hearing the demigod’s rasped, “Don’t.”

The hunter fell to his knees retching, though there was nothing left for his clenching stomach to bring up. He felt as though his soul were shattered, as though he were mired so deep in filth that he could never been clean again. “Finally I’ve proven myself to be Brakus’ true heir. Forcing myself on someone, on my best friend. Using him for my own gratification without a thought as to what he wanted.” He swallowed heavily, fighting against the empty retching threatening to return.

Iolaus curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees as the awareness of his surroundings closed in. Shivering, alone in the darkness, memories of a cold, damp, empty dungeon filled his mind.

“It’s no more than I deserve, to stay out here, cold and alone, forever,” he whispered, shuddering. “I’m s-so sorry, Herc.”

“Oh Sweetcheeks,” Aphrodite whispered, unseen. Blinking back tears, she lifted her chin with steely determination. “Time to get a few things straight, little bro,” she muttered, disappearing in a shower of sparkles.

“Damn, damn, damn!” Hercules muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying ineffectually to ease the pounding behind his eyes.

“What in Tartarus were you thinking?” he grumbled darkly to himself. “Obviously, you weren’t,” he snorted. Hercules sighed. Iolaus had made it perfectly clear that he did not want anything more than friendship. “And what did you do? All but force yourself on him.” He threw his head back with a groan.

“Iolaus is in the throes of a nightmare, and all you do is hang on for the ride.” He was such a fool. He deserved to lose Iolaus. Hercules flopped back, laying with his forearm resting across his eyes.

“Damn it. NO!” he shouted, sitting up again. “I will not lose Iolaus.” He grabbed his pants, jerking them quickly up over his hips. How about thinking about what Iolaus needs for a change? he thought sharply. Alone in the cold and dark and thinking he did something wrong. “I’ve got to...”

“Hercules!” Aphrodite shouted, appearing in a shower of uncharacteristically dark red sparkles, “what are you doing?”

“Putting my boots on,” the demigod answered with a curious scowl. He’d never seen the Goddess of Love act like this.

“What did you do to Iolaus?” she accused sharply.

“I...”

“He’s out there alone,” she pointed, shaking her arm in Iolaus’ direction. “He’s so hurt.”

“Hurt? Aphrodite, I...”

She charged toward the demigod, stopping mere inches away to glare angrily up at him. Poking her finger into his chest to punctuate her words, she growled, “How could you do this to him? After everything he’s been through...”

“Been through? You mean... you knew what happened to him?” Disbelief coloured Hercules’ question.

Aphrodite sighed softly, “Of course I did. I saw it all.”

“And you didn’t stop it?! You didn’t help him?” Hercules shouted.

“I did what I could. Fortune’s toss decided his fate, I couldn’t change that.”

“Did what you could?” Hercules snorted derisively, “And what exactly was that? Change the iron shackles around his wrists to silk scarves? The cold stone floor to velvet cushions?”

“I led him to you, didn’t I?” Aphrodite shouted back, tears shimmering in her clear blue eyes.

The demigod stopped, mid-rant, “I... you... you did that?”

“Yes.”

Hercules wrapped his arms around the Goddess of Love, accepting what small comfort she offered, “Aphrodite, I’m sorry. It’s just... I love him so much. I know all he wants is friendship, but I can’t help the way I feel.”

Aphrodite leaned back, to meet Hercules sad eyes, “Oh little bro, you’ve got a lot to learn about love. Iolaus loves you.” She looked sharply, assessingly into her brother’s gaze, “More even, I think, than you love him.”

“He does?” Hope flickered to life in Hercules’ heart.

“He does,” she confirmed, “But deep inside he thinks he’s not good enough for you. And he’s afraid, too afraid to tell you what he really wants.”

“Not good enough?” Hercules shook his head, “That’s crazy...”

“Just go find him, Hercules.” Aphrodite pushed at the demigod, “Find him and take care of him.”

“That’s where I was headed when you stopped by to yell at me.” Hercules let out a short chuckle.

“Just remember, he needs your patience and understanding as much as he needs your love, little bro.”

“I will, ‘Dite, and thanks.” Hercules rushed off, grinning. Iolaus loved him!

“Take care, both of you. I’m afraid it’s gonna be a rough road, but you two were made for each other,” she murmured to herself as Hercules strode quickly out of view.

Hercules heard the soft, vibrating moans before he could see Iolaus in the darkness. The hunter was curled in upon himself, arms wrapped tightly about his knees, eyes clenched shut. His body was quaking with the cold.

The demigod moved slowly closer, hesitant to touch his partner, not wanting to startle or frighten him further.

“Iolaus,” he called softly, “you’re not alone. It’s me, Hercules.”

“Herc?” Iolaus whispered.

“Iolaus,” the demigod coaxed, using a soft gentle tone as if speaking to a small frightened child. “Come back to the fire where it’s warm, okay?”

“Herc?” Iolaus reached slowly toward the demigod, afraid to believe his partner was really there.

Hercules reached out a hand, laying it gently against the hunter’s shaking shoulder. When Iolaus didn’t move away, the demigod pulled him closer into a loose embrace.

“So c-c-cold, s-so alone,” the hunter stuttered.

“You’re not alone anymore Iolaus,” Hercules whispered against the golden head, “I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

“Don’t d-deserve...” Iolaus pushed away from the demigod.

Hercules pulled the hunter back into his arms, lifting him completely off the ground to cradle against his chest as he began walking back to their camp. “Yes you do, Iolaus,” he murmured, knowing the hunter was probably only semi-conscious, “you deserve to be taken care of and you deserve to be loved.” He pressed a soft kiss against his partner’s wild curls, adding, “I will, and I do. Forever if you’ll let me.”

Iolaus wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not, but it felt too good, cradled tenderly against the demigod’s wide chest, to struggle. He felt warm. Comfortable and cared for, in a way he hadn’t felt for a very long time.

When they reached the campsite, Hercules set Iolaus gently back on his feet.

Left standing alone, without the warmth of Hercules’ arms around him, the hunter began shivering again.

Hercules’ lips set in a grim line as the fire’s flickering glow illuminated the scars on Iolaus’ back. Anger clenched in his fists as he suddenly realised where those scars came from and why his partner had always been reluctant to talk about them.

Sensing the demigod’s anger, but not the reason behind it, Iolaus dropped his gaze, staring into the flames, “I’m sorry to be such a bother, Herc,” he muttered.

The demigod’s temper exploded, “Damn it Iolaus, you’re not a fucking bother! You’re my partner for Zeus’ sake!”

Iolaus stared wide-eyed at the ranting, “you almost sound like you mean that,” he muttered.

“Almost? ALMOST!? Where in Tartarus is all this doubt coming from?” Hercules clenched his fists tightly, fighting the urge to grab the hunter and shake some sense into him.

“You don’t have to pretend,” Iolaus murmured softly, “I heard you before.”

“Pretend? Heard what, exactly?” Hercules questioned, confused.

“I heard you talking to Autolycus,” Iolaus swallowed heavily. “You said I disgusted you. That I...”

“Gods! Iolaus, No! I wasn’t talking about you. I was disgusted with myself.” The demigod waved his arms wildly, muttering to himself, “Damn it, I did it again.” He stopped pacing, looking directly into Iolaus’ wide blue eyes. “You’re my partner. I’m supposed to take care of you. And I’m the one who keeps hurting you.”

Shaking his head, Iolaus answered, “No, Herc, this is my fault...”

Hercules sighed, “No, Iolaus, it’s all mine...”

“It’s mine.”

“No, mine.”

Iolaus glared at the demigod a moment, then let a small chuckle escape. Hercules stared back, then joined in the laughter.

“How about we forget about blame, since it’s all my fault,” Hercules grinned, “and go back to being friends?”

“I’ll agree to that, because it was my fault,” Iolaus grinned back. “Friends.”

“Now come here and let’s get you warm again.” Hercules held his arms open.

Iolaus hesitated, his eyes shuttered, “I don’t...”

“Just warmth. A friend helping a friend. Nothing more.”

Shuddering, Iolaus grinned. “All right.” Settling between Herc’s legs, facing the fire, the hunter felt himself pulled back to lean against the demigod’s chest as Hercules rubbed his hands briskly up and down Iolaus’ arms before wrapping his strong arms tightly around the smaller man.

Hercules let his eyes drift closed as he savoured the moment, enjoying while he could, the feel of the hunter’s lean strength pulled tight against him. A sense of peace, of the rightness of it all, stole over his heart as he listened to Iolaus’ quiet breathing, felt the gentle rise and fall of the hunter’s chest, wrapped in his embrace where he belonged.

Iolaus let his head fall back to rest against Hercules’ chest. Wrapped in the demigod’s warmth, he drifted, feeling contentment settling over his heart. So easy, it would be so easy to give in to this, to accept what the demigod offered. But Herc has no idea, he thought sadly, and if I give in now, I’d never survive his leaving. And he will leave. They all do.

The hunter sighed softly, distance was the key to his survival here. “This heart is definitely closed for business,” he murmured to himself, refusing to acknowledge the tiny voice inside that warned it was already too late to keep Hercules out. The demigod had long since moved in and taken up residence in Iolaus’ heart, and was not about to be evicted.

Iolaus pulled gently out of the demigod’s loose embrace, making his way back to his own bedroll on the far side of the fire.

“Iolaus?” Hercules mumbled, blinking awake.

“Thanks for the loan of the warmth,” he smiled, “but I need to get some sleep now, and so should you. Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day.”

“Iolaus?” Hercules yawned.

“I’m fine. Everything’s okay, I promise. Go to sleep.”

“‘kay,” the demigod mumbled, rolling over.

Iolaus let himself drift into sleep, dreaming it was Hercules warm arms he was wrapped in, rather than his own cold blanket.

Hercules lay on his side, chin propped up on his hand, watching the hunter sleep. The bright morning sunlight blazed through the soft curls framing his face, turning them to burnished gold.

Iolaus looked so peaceful, sleep bringing back a small measure of the innocence he’d lost so long ago. Soft lips curved with just a hint of the smile that usually brightened the hunter’s features.

Of their own accord, his eyes moved to Iolaus’ hands. Lean and strong, like the rest of the hunter, they were the rough callused hands of a man who worked for a living. He’d felt that rough grip countless times, grasping his own hand, clasping his shoulder.

Hercules’ eyes drifted shut, his imagination taking flight, feeling those same strong hands smoothing and exploring over his entire body. He could feel rough thumbs flicking across suddenly aching nipples, strong fingers kneading his ass, that tight rough grip wrapping around his aching shaft. The demigod groaned, shifting to accommodate his burgeoning erection. Distracted as he was, he did not notice Iolaus blinking awake.

The hunter began slipping into his clothes, pulling on pants and boots, buckling his belts. He felt Hercules’ eyes turn in his direction as he was settling his vest over his shoulders.

Hercules reached for his own shirts.

“Wait, Herc,” Iolaus called, “we need to talk.”

“I’m just going to put my shirt on,” Hercules said.

“I know, but I’d like to talk first,” Iolaus met Hercules’ curious glance with a steady gaze, “it’s important.”

“Okay Iolaus, whatever you want.”

“Thanks,” Iolaus smiled, relaxing a little at the demigod’s easy agreement. “I just... I think that there are some things you need to learn, to be aware of, before we can go marching into Nysus’ compound.”

“I know...”

“This is serious, we’re not just playing around here.”

“Iolaus, I...”

“You’ll see some things,” Iolaus hesitated, “and probably have to do some things, that you won’t find pleasant.”

“Iolaus,”

“I promise you Herc, I’ll do everything I can to protect you...”

Hercules smiled.

“I really need for you to trust me.”

“Of course I trust you Iolaus.”

“I need you to be sure. I’m more... experienced... with this, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that trust between a slave and master is vital. It will only be more so for us... this is a dangerous situation we’re putting ourselves in. I’ll need your full co-operation and trust.”

“Iolaus, you have it.”

Iolaus drew in a deep breath and blew it out softly. “Okay, I’m gonna have to teach you some of the basic rules. We don’t have the time for proper, serious training.”

Hercules swallowed hard, shifting in his seat, flashing images of what Iolaus might consider proper training stirring his blood.

“It’s gonna be more like a crash course... hopefully enough for us to pass once we’re inside, but this is just another reason you need to trust me.”

“Iolaus, what do you want me to do?” Hercules asked, wild visions of Iolaus standing tall, demanding his surrender and service, dancing through his mind.

“Strip.”

“Wha-?” Hercules’ jaw dropped at this fantasy come to life.

“First step. Slaves may be required to remain naked while those around them are clothed. If you can’t handle this...”

“It’s not that,” Hercules answered slowly, “you just surprised me, is all.” He lowered his hands to his belt. In moments, he stood naked before the hunter.

Iolaus chuckled, “I never knew you blushed with your whole body like that.”

Hercules scowled, flushing even more.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Iolaus teased, “it brings some nice colour to your... cheeks.”

Hercules brought his hands together over his groin, attempting to conceal the thrill his body was beginning to show at being displayed for Iolaus’ eyes.

“Don’t ever cover yourself, Herc. Slaves are not permitted modesty. If your hands are not occupied, keep them hanging loose at your sides or clasped together behind your back.”

“All right,” Hercules murmured, clasping his hands together. The movement pulled back his shoulders, thrusting his chest forward.

Iolaus gulped, eyes widening at the sight, “much, uh...” he cleared his throat, “much better.” Keep your mind on the plan, Iolaus, he warned himself sharply. Look at him. Get him past the discomfort. He’s too stiff, and in all the wrong places.

“Okay Herc,” he smiled, “relax.” Iolaus walked a slow circle around the demigod, stopping directly in front of the taller man. “On your knees, please.”

Hercules swallowed tightly, but dropped to kneel at Iolaus’ feet without protest. He drew in a deep breath, looking up at the hunter, a fire igniting in his belly at the submissive position.

“Hercules,” Iolaus spoke firmly, “I want you to use your hands, slide them up your belly, slowly.” He watched as Hercules hesitantly obeyed. “Good, brush them across your nipples, lightly, teasing. Don’t stop until I tell you.”

Hercules sucked in a breath. He’d never felt so aroused under his own hands. Iolaus’ strong voice, quiet, controlling, directed his movements, as though it were the hunter’s own fingers on his body.

Iolaus watched Hercules’ body gradually loosen, “That’s it, harder now, pinch them, twist them a little.”

The demigod obeyed, a small moan escaping his lips.

Iolaus grinned at his partner’s responsiveness. “Now move one of those hands lower, cradle your cock, wrap your fingers tight.”

Hercules groaned, holding Iolaus’ gaze as he began thrusting into his fist.

“Stop.” Iolaus ordered softly.

Hercules sighed but dropped his hands to his sides, leaving his erection aching.

“Come with me,” Iolaus added.

Hercules stood and followed the hunter as he led them to an open area near the campsite.

Handing the demigod four long stakes, he said, “There, there, there and there,” pointing to four widely spaced spots.

Stakes planted in place, the hunter directed his big partner to lay down, and in moments had the demigod secured, spread-eagled, between them.

Hercules tugged lightly at his wrist, testing the hold.

Iolaus shrugged, “It’s snug, but we both know it won’t hold you without your co-operation.”

Hercules only smiled, relaxing into the bonds.

“Thanks,” Iolaus whispered. “Now, close your eyes.”

Hercules did so, feeling sheepskin padding placed over his eyes and hearing a leather strap buckled into place.

Iolaus finished fastening the makeshift blindfold and brushed his fingers through Hercules’ long hair, smoothing it down.

Hearing a soft rustling in the bushes, Iolaus looked up to see Autolycus arriving with two strangers.

Smiling, he leaned to whisper in the bound demigod’s ear, “Stay here. Concentrate on feeling the warm kiss of the sun and the cool lick of the breeze across your skin.”

Hercules turned questioning, “Iolaus?”

“Autolycus just got back. I need to go talk to him, but I swear you won’t ever be out of my sight.”

Hercules nodded, reassured.

“When I get back, we’ll get started,” Iolaus added, before leaving the demigod to join the three men entering the clearing.

Hercules shifted slightly in his bonds as he listened to the hunter’s firm pace retreating across the clearing. As each step grew more faint, the fluttering in his belly grew more intense, his situation more clear.

Left bound, blindfolded and achingly aroused, he could hear the soft murmur of voices in the distance, but could not distinguish who was speaking or what was being said. The sun was soaking a drowsy lassitude into his limbs, contrasting sharply with the tingling awareness of the small breeze tickling at every tiny hair on his body.

He squirmed again. He couldn’t see it, but he knew that Iolaus was watching. Hercules felt his nipples tighten into firmly pointed buds, his cock shifting, growing even more turgid.

Was Autolycus watching him too? Were his sharp, dark eyes examining Hercules’ position, his bonds, his obvious arousal? The demigod could feel the colour rising in his cheeks. What would the thief think? Anyone who saw him like this would know, such simple bonds wouldn’t hold him without his cooperation, his submission. He was a slave. He was Iolaus’ willing slave. His ass spasmed at the mere thought, clenching at its own emptiness, his cock waving as if hoping to draw the hunter’s attention.

He was Iolaus’ willing slave. And he loved it.

Iolaus walked with a steady, measured tread toward Autolycus and the strangers with him, using the opportunity to appraise the two new arrivals. He carefully avoided looking in Hercules’ direction, needing to keep their attention on him and away from his partner until he was sure they could be trusted. Autolycus had managed to keep them distracted so far, and he was grateful to the thief for his efforts.

The first of the new arrivals was tall, of medium build, with short, dusty brown hair and pale blue eyes. He dressed with the same flair as the King of Thieves, wearing a steely blue, quilted vest belted over a grey-blue shirt with wide flaring sleeves tucked into leather gauntlets.

The second man was stockier, with chin length bright red curls hanging down either side of his round face. He wore a brown, laced tunic over a short-sleeved olive coloured shirt and loose cotton trousers with a matching stripe tucked into his boots. Iolaus made careful note of the dagger tucked into his wide belt.

Autolycus smiled as he stepped forward to clasp Iolaus’ shoulder. He studied Iolaus carefully, wondering at the calm control the hunter was projecting, knowing it must be a facade, but unable to see any indication of the turmoil he’d seen the hunter going through on the previous day.

“Autolycus,” the hunter nodded a short greeting.

“Iolaus,” the King of Thieves grinned, brown eyes sparkling, “this is Rafe,” he nodded toward the first man, “and his partner Eldon,” he continued.

Iolaus studied the two men a moment through narrowed eyes. The one called Rafe stood with an arrogant stance and cocky grin that reminded the hunter of the King of Thieves. Eldon stood back, a little more wary, taking careful stock of the hunter.

Speaking to Autolycus without taking his eyes off the strangers in front of him, Iolaus asked, “you know them?” He had put his faith in the thief; he did trust him. But for Hercules’ sake, he felt he had to ask. Iolaus had come to believe that the King of Thieves was at heart a good and trustworthy man... for the most part. But so much was at stake here. And guilty, ashamed even, as he might feel to admit it, it was not the missing young men that Iolaus was concerned about. At this moment, all his care, all his concern, all his attention was focussed solely on the demigod and his well-being. “They can be trusted?”

“Listen, friend,” Rafe spoke up, holding the grin but with the smallest note of steel in his smooth voice, “you have questions, ask us.”

Autolycus clapped a hand on each man’s shoulder. “Whoa there, guys,” he smiled, in an attempt to ease the brewing tension, “we’re all friends here.”

Two pairs of pale blue eyes locked on the thief in an incredulous stare.

“Well,” Autolycus shrugged with a grin, “we will be.”

“Iolaus.” the hunter introduced himself finally, extending his hand toward Rafe.

“Yeah, I got that.” Rafe grinned as he clasped the hand extended toward him.

“Friends of Autolycus’, are you?” Iolaus asked quietly, opinion rising a notch at Rafe’s firm grip and open gaze.

“Oh, our paths have crossed on occasion over the years,” Rafe chuckled, while Iolaus shook and released Eldon’s hand.

Autolycus laughed, “Rafe and Eldon are the best. They’ve done for the art of the con what I did for...”

“Breaking and entering?” Rafe laughed.

“Con men?” Iolaus scowled, settling his fists on his hips, “you brought con men?”

“They’re the best.” Autolycus said, holding up a hand to forestall Rafe’s protest. “You can trust them.” His earnestness faded into a grin, “Just like you trust me.”

“Trust the King of Cons as far as I trust the King of Thieves.” Iolaus grinned, “Yeah, that sounds about right. I can do that.”

Rafe looked from one to the other, “this is a good thing, right?”

Autolycus laughed. “You’re in.”

Iolaus stepped slightly to the side, subtly shifting so he could keep his eyes on the clearing in the distance where the demigod waited. Rafe and Eldon had not yet noticed anything out of the ordinary, and Iolaus was determined to keep their attention on himself and their backs to Hercules until he felt sure they could be trusted, not only to take part in the demigod’s ‘education’, but to keep quiet about the whole thing.

“Did Autolycus tell you why he brought you here?” Iolaus asked.

“Not much.” Eldon muttered.

Rafe stepped forward, bumping his elbow sharply into his partner’s ribs. “Oh, sorry, pal,” he murmured. Turning toward Iolaus, Rafe added, “he said he had a friend who was looking for some help to teach another friend a few lessons.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, he didn’t use any names, but he did say it would be worth our while.” Rafe grinned, rubbing his palms together in anticipation.

Iolaus turned wide questioning eyes on the King of Thieves.

Autolycus dropped his eyes with a grin, “well they weren’t gonna come.”

“So what’s the deal?” Eldon asked.

“I’m the one looking for the help,” Iolaus sighed, “and the friend is Hercules.”

“Oh no. No way!” Eldon groaned, waving his arms wildly.

“Eldon,” Rafe hushed.

“No way. We are not getting involved.” Eldon muttered, shaking his head from side to side.

“Eldon,” Rafe tried again.

“Con Hercules?” Eldon muttered, grabbing Rafe’s arm, “are you nuts?!”

“Wait,” Iolaus spoke up, “it’s not a con.”

Both con men stopped, turning sharp, assessing stares on the hunter. “Not a con?” Rafe repeated.

“No con,” Iolaus confirmed.

Eldon scowled. ”Then what kind of lesson are you planning we teach him, exactly?”

Iolaus flushed, shifting slightly. He looked past the two men to where Hercules lay bound and waiting. With a heavy swallow, he locked his eyes onto Eldon’s. “First I need your sworn oath,” he shifted his gaze to Rafe, “both of you, that you will never tell anyone about any of this.” Iolaus stood, arms crossed over his chest, the threatening ‘or else’ hanging unspoken but obvious in the silence between them.

Eldon met the smaller man’s stare, crossing his own arms, “and if we do tell? What’re you gonna do about it?” He snorted derisively.

Iolaus took a menacing step closer. “You mean, other than beat you to a bloody pulp?” he challenged softly. “Let’s see, I might just call on Hephaestus or better yet, Aphrodite. If you ever hope to be attractive to anything on less than four legs again, you won’t cross me... or Herc.”

Rafe studied Iolaus’ reaction carefully while Eldon laughed in Autolycus’ direction. “Just who does he think he is? Xena? And claiming to know Gods?!”

From the corner of his eye, Iolaus caught a shower of sparkles and a flash of fire across the clearing. Turning, he saw Hephaestus and Aphrodite materialise unnoticed by the other three men.

“Autolycus,” he muttered, still scowling, “try to get them to understand how serious I am about his.” He started to walk in the direction of the Gods, adding over his shoulder, “I’ll be back in a couple minutes.”

Iolaus joined Hephaestus and Aphrodite, brightening a little at the Goddess of Love’s radiant joy.

“I had to come along, Sweetcheeks,” she giggled, “when Hephy told me what he was making and who it was for...” She enveloped the hunter in a tight embrace.

Iolaus gasped, lost in sensation... embraced by warmth, joy, an all-consuming love that swelled his heart, and a deeply burning passion that swelled his...

“Oh,” Aphrodite giggled again, backing off, “sorry Sweetcheeks. I got a little carried away there. But congratulations! I just knew you and my little bro...”

Iolaus shook his head, cutting off the Goddess’ words. “It’s not that simple, Aphrodite. This is just for a ruse, for our plan to get into Nysus’ compound.” Swallowing his disappointment, Iolaus added softly, “Herc and I are not together.” Pain squeezed his heart, but he forced himself to continue, “and after we’re done here... we’ll probably be going our separate ways.”

“But...” Aphrodite shot a worried glance in Hephaestus’ direction. “Sweetcheeks,” she chided.

“Aphrodite, just let it drop, okay? You can’t change this. What’s meant to be, will be.” Iolaus sighed, fighting the thickness in his throat as he let his gaze fall to his feet. He might be resigned to his loneliness, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

The Goddess grinned, sharing a confident smile with her husband. As far as she was concerned, Hercules and Iolaus were meant to be, and she was not about to give up on making that happen.

She turned, glancing at the three men arguing across the clearing. “What’s that about?” she asked.

Iolaus looked over, seeing Autolycus gesturing wildly, deep in argument with Rafe and Eldon. With a wide grin, he turned back to the two Gods beside him. “Listen, could you do me a favour?”

“Of course,” Hephaestus answered.

“Anything,” Aphrodite added.

Iolaus chuckled outright. “If you could make yourselves visible to those men over there, I’ll owe you... big time.”

The God of Fire scowled slightly, curling his twisted arm against his side protectively. “Iolaus, you know what debt I owe you,” he murmured softly, lifting Aphrodite’s hand to press his lips against her fingers as he smiled into her bright blue eyes. He turned back to the hunter. “A few toys cannot begin to repay...”

“Hephaestus,” Iolaus shook his head, ready to protest.

With a squeeze of Hephaestus’ fingers, Aphrodite interrupted, “what do you want, Sweetcheeks?”

Iolaus blushed slightly, looking away from Aphrodite’s curious gaze. “I wanted their oath that they wouldn’t tell anyone about what they’re gonna see and do here....” He let his voice trail off slightly.

“And?” Aphrodite asked softly.

“And...” he began, “I sort of threatened them with divine retribution if they crossed me an’ Herc. I used both your names.” Iolaus sighed.

Hephaestus and Aphrodite looked at each other, then back to Iolaus.

“I know I shouldn’t have...” Iolaus started.

“Sweetcheeks,” Aphrodite smiled, “relax.”

“What you’d like then,” Hephaestus grinned menacingly, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, “is a little show of power? A bit of a light show?”

Iolaus grinned, “Yeah. And one other thing....”

Rafe and Eldon stood with Autolycus, watching Iolaus gesturing and talking to thin air.

“I can’t believe we listened to you again,” Eldon muttered, “after what happened the last time.” He crossed his arms over his chest with a scowl.

“Worth our while, you said,” Rafe grumbled. “Chance of a lifetime, you said.” He glared at Autolycus. “You didn’t mention that your friend was insane!”

“Now wait a minute,” Autolycus sputtered. “Iolaus is not insane!”

“Delusions of grandeur.” Eldon was still muttering. “Claiming to know Gods.”

All three men were startled into silence by a sharp crackling sound. In a bright blaze of smoke and flame, the God of Fire and the Forge appeared next to Iolaus. He spoke briefly with the hunter, shook his hand and glowered at the two conmen.

Rafe and Eldon stood motionless, staring wide-eyed at the God.

In a second sparkling flash and shower of pink rose petals, Aphrodite materialised. Speaking briefly with Iolaus, she smiled brightly and waved at the two men, shooing a billy goat in their direction.

“Oh my...” Eldon began.

“Gods.” Rafe whispered.

“He really does know...” Eldon groaned quietly. “I knew this was a bad idea.” He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. “Oh Gods,” he jumped, startled, as the goat bleated quietly, rubbing it’s head against his thigh.

Iolaus laughed out loud. He turned back to Hephaestus and Aphrodite, grinning widely. “Thank you.”

Aphrodite giggled. “Anytime, Sweetcheeks.”

“The debt I owe you is immeasurable, Iolaus,” Hephaestus murmured, smiling almost shyly at the Goddess of Love.

Aphrodite smiled dazzlingly at Hephaestus, cupping her fingers around his scarred cheek as she kissed him.

Iolaus smiled wistfully at the pair. His throat squeezed tight, envious of the lovers and their open affection. He hoped they realised how truly blessed they were, how much he would give to have that same freedom with the man he loved. But he and Hercules were not meant to be. The demigod would find someone worthy of his love one day. Something Iolaus knew he would never be.

“Iolaus,” Aphrodite chided softly, reading the hunter’s expression.

He smiled sadly. “Just leave it ‘Dite. Please.”

Hephaestus dropped his hand on the Goddess’ shoulder, shaking his head slightly as she was about to protest.

“Iolaus,” the God of Fire spoke quietly, “I have the things you asked for.” Gleaming black chains of varying lengths appeared in the God’s hands.

Iolaus swallowed heavily, staring at the shackles, suddenly hesitant to reach out and accept them. Once he held their smooth weight in his hands there would be no turning back. He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply. Unbidden, a clear image of Hercules came to his mind. Hercules, bound naked on his knees, adorned only in these heavy black chains. Hercules, belonging to him, wanting only to please and be pleased.

Slowly, he extended his hands, feeling this evidence of Hercules’ trust in him weigh more heavily than the chains themselves. His partner’s willingness to go along with this plan could very easily change when he saw this tangible reminder of their roles.

Gaze falling to the harness he’d asked Hephaestus to fashion, Iolaus’ eyes widened in dismay. He’d wanted it for Hercules’ protection; hoped if he kept his “slave’s” ass full, with the plug locked in place, that no one would be able to use him without Iolaus’ permission. That he could at least save Hercules that indignity.

But looking now at the leather-strapped harness and the phallus-shaped plug, he was suddenly unsure that his partner would see any difference. “It’s so... big,” he whispered, “Why did you...”

Hephaestus smiled. “It’s modelled on you Iolaus, the same size and shape as your own erect cock.” That particular idea had actually been Aphrodite’s suggestion. When he’d told her about Iolaus’ request, she’d been quite emphatic about it. Seeing the dazed look in Iolaus’ wide blue eyes and the flush rising in his cheeks, Hephaestus could see that she was right.

The hunter gulped, cradling the phallus in his palm. Iolaus was all but holding his breath, imagining pushing the plug... essentially his own cock... into Hercules’ ass. He could almost hear the demigod’s eager moan; see the phallus sink, inch by smooth hard inch, into Hercules’ arching, upthrust ass.

Iolaus shook his head sharply, eyes clenched shut as he tried to banish the erotic images from his mind. Hercules was not a willing lover, eager for the hunter’s caresses. He was not a wanton, moaning and begging for Iolaus’ attention. He was a hero, unselfish and willing to perform an unpleasant duty to save lives. That’s all. And Iolaus needed to remember that. They were not now, and never would be, lovers.

If I want to survive this charade with my heart and soul intact, he chided himself, then I can’t let myself forget that for a moment. He struggled to ignore the tiny voice that insisted it was already too late.

“And don’t forget this,” Hephaestus was saying when the hunter’s attention refocused on the present.

Iolaus looked at the object hanging from the God’s fingers. The heavy metal collar gleamed black in the sunlight. It spanned the width of three fingers, and was etched with an elaborate scrolling design. Letters, sharply defined, proclaimed for all the world to read, HERCULES, PROPERTY OF IOLAUS OF THEBES.

The hunter swallowed sharply, staring spellbound at the shining collar. It was the one item that would mark the demigod as a slave, his slave. His stomach flipped at the very thought.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Iolaus whispered, clenching his eyes shut, shaking.

“Sweetcheeks...” Aphrodite murmured, wrapping an arm tightly around the blonde’s shoulder. She turned him gently to face the clearing where the demigod still lay waiting for him to return, bound and arching with arousal.

“Hercules is counting on you, Iolaus,” Hephaestus spoke quietly. “And they may not know it yet, but so are the young men disappearing from Lycinae.”

Iolaus squeezed his eyes shut, fists clenched at his side. He knew they were right. He couldn’t let Hercules down, no matter what the consequences to himself. His own pain was irrelevant right now.

The hunter drew in a deep breath. The solution was simple, in theory at least. All he needed to do was harden his heart and keep his distance. If he gave in to his feelings for the demigod, he’d never survive the end of their partnership once this rescue was over. He’d make sure to keep his emotions locked tightly inside. Hercules would have enough to deal with without the additional burden of Iolaus’ longings.

Drawing another deep breath, Iolaus reached slowly to take the gleaming black collar into his own hands. He let his fingers trace across the deeply grooved lettering proclaiming Hercules as his property. He concentrated on the weight of it in his hands. Iolaus could well imagine what a constant reminder its cool heaviness would be once locked around a slave’s neck. He swallowed heavily. Around Hercules’ neck.

“Iolaus,” Aphrodite murmured softly, her worried blue gaze locked on the hunter’s face, “are you going to be all right?”

The blond smiled wanly. “I’ll survive,” he shrugged. “I always have.” He looked to each God in turn. “Thank you both. For everything.” He lifted the small bag of toys Hephaestus had forged for him. “Now, I think I’ve kept my partner waiting long enough. The sooner we get through his lessons, the sooner we can get this rescue underway.”

“If you need more help, Sweetcheeks...” Aphrodite offered.

Iolaus smiled. “I’ll remember that.” Tossing the toy bag over his shoulder, the hunter headed back toward the three con men, still in intent conversation.

“...really know Xena?” Eldon was saying.

“Intimately,” Autolycus grinned, eyebrows waggling suggestively, “both of them.”

“Autolycus...” Iolaus growled the warning.

Three pairs of eyes turned toward the hunter, Autolycus grinning with amusement and his two companions with a combination of awe and speculation.

Iolaus rolled his eyes at the King of Thieves. “Does anyone mind if we get back to why you’re here?”

“Yes, let’s,” Rafe muttered, arms crossing over his chest. “What exactly is it that you need us for?”

The hunter held up a hand, “First your oath. No one hears about this. Ever.” Iolaus scowled, holding Rafe’s intent gaze.

The goat bleated, nudging against Eldon’s hip. “Given!” Eldon shouted, jumping around to hide behind Autolycus. “No one ever hears anything from me,” he added desperately.

“Agreed,” Rafe added quietly.

“Okay then,” Iolaus nodded, explaining briefly about the young men who’d been disappearing and their plan to sneak into Nysus’ compound.

“Bluffing your way into that place?” Eldon burst out incredulously, “disguised as a slave?” He shook his head vehemently, red curls bouncing wildly. “Count me out!”

“Eldon...” Rafe scowled.

“Forget it, Rafe. I don’t care how reformed you want to pretend we are. No way!”

“Relax,” Autolycus grinned.

“Hercules and I will be the one’s going in,” Iolaus assured the con men. “That’s not what I need you for.”

The two men looked expectantly at Iolaus.

The hunter sighed softly, looking away. “Hercules is the one posing as a slave. He has no idea what that will mean.”

Rafe stared at the hunter, awed once more at the lengths true heroes were willing to go to help complete strangers, just because it was the right thing to do.

“I need your help showing him exactly what being a slave in that compound will mean.” Iolaus grimaced. “I’ll protect him as much as I can, but he needs to know what he can expect. He’ll never pass for a slave if it’s obvious that he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“So, you want us to...”

Iolaus interrupted, growling sharply, “To do exactly what I tell you to. Nothing more.”

Rafe glanced quickly at the King of Thieves arching his brow slightly.

Autolycus nodded, almost imperceptibly.

“Understood,” Rafe murmured, turning back to meet the hunter’s determined gaze with an open, earnest look. “What do you need from us?”

Hercules squirmed, shifting slightly in his bonds. His cock throbbed with each new brush of the cool breeze across his skin. His nipples puckered tightly, tingling awareness sparking across his exposed body.

He turned his head to the side, listening intently. No sounds but those of the songbirds and the breeze rustling through the leaves drifted back across the clearing. Tension curled momentarily in his belly, but he drew in a deep breath, letting calm drift through him. Iolaus had promised he wouldn’t let the demigod out of his sight.

Hercules blew the breath out in a soft explosion of air. The calm did nothing to allay the intense and unfamiliar sense of vulnerability he was feeling. The hunter’s lessons were working already, better than Iolaus realised.

The demigod groaned softly, arching his hips. Being blind to the world around him heightened that sense of vulnerability and, amazingly, his arousal. He’d never imagined he’d feel like this. Bound naked and blindfolded, left only to think about his partner, he could easily imagine Iolaus’ eyes roving across his exposed skin. Hercules could feel the blush burning over his body as the fire in his groin intensified. His cock bobbed, arching against his belly, leaking a trail of sticky wetness as he shifted his hips again, unable to be still.

Blindfolded, the demigod had no way to judge the passage of time. He groaned again. His aching cock felt as though he’d been left bound and frustrated for ages. In his head though, Hercules knew from the feel of the sun on his skin that it had probably not even been an hour. And hopefully soon, the hunter would return. Iolaus would stand over him and demand his service. The demigod moaned, licking his lips, eager to serve his partner in any way he might be asked.

Holding his breath, listening carefully, Hercules heard footsteps coming toward him through the rustling grass. His heart began to race, his entire body tingling. “Iolaus,” he whispered under his breath, smiling.

He turned his head as he felt someone settle on the ground at his shoulder.

“It’s time to begin your lessons,” Iolaus whispered into his right ear.

Hercules swallowed against the tightness in his throat. “I’m ready,” he rasped.

“The first lesson,” the hunter breathed into his ear, brushing his fingers over the demigod’s shoulder. “Slaves may be touched anywhere...”

Hercules jumped in his bonds as he felt a new hand cup his foot and another curl around his ankle, brushing through the hair on his calf. Autolycus, he thought. He shifted slightly as the disembodied hands continued to stroke softly along his increasingly sensitive skin.

“...by anyone...” Iolaus murmured.

With a gasp, Hercules felt a third pair of hands brush across his chest, teasing at his puckered nipples. Gods, who?

“...at any time.” Iolaus whispered.

The demigod cried out. A fourth pair of hands brushed his thighs, moving to comb gently through the tangled hair covering his groin. “Iolaus?” he whispered shuddering.

“I’m still here,” the hunter whispered, brushing his fingers with soothing repetitiveness over Hercules’ hair.

“Don’t leave me,” Hercules whispered, even as he arched against the hands fondling and caressing his body.

Iolaus clenched his eyes, swallowing against the lump in his throat at the demigod’s quiet plea, wishing he could promise they’d be together forever. “I... a master always takes care of his slaves...” It wasn’t enough. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear it.”

Hercules smiled brightly, turning his head in the direction of Iolaus’ voice. “I know that, buddy. I trust you.”

“Thanks.” Iolaus cleared his throat roughly. “Now, we’ve got a few more lessons to get through...”

Hercules shifted in his bonds, unconsciously arching into the hands that teased along his thighs. Four pairs of hands stroked his flesh, tickling through his hair, plucking at his nipples, but somehow never brushing across the aching centre of his desire.

Lost in the darkness behind his blindfold, the demigod could only surrender to sensation. Each hand belonged to Iolaus; each caress of his heated flesh came from his partner.

“Gods, Iolaus, please,” he groaned softly.

“Lesson number two,” Iolaus whispered against Hercules’ ear.

The demigod shuddered at the warm puff of words against his neck, another bolt of fire shooting straight to his groin.

“Do you feel it yet?” Iolaus licked his partner’s neck. “Does your body ache and throb, even at the hands of men you don’t know?” He swallowed heavily, fighting against the tight squeeze of his throat, his voice thick with unshed tears.

Hercules squirmed as Iolaus’ words broke through the haze of passion clouding his mind. He felt the flush steal up his neck and across his cheeks. What must Iolaus think of him? He lay bound and naked before at least four men, with no idea of the identity of half of them, and he was aroused by it.

Suddenly, he was glad of the blindfold. Thankful he couldn’t see the disgust he knew must be etched on his partner’s face. “Iolaus,” he whispered, his head shaking side to side.

The hunter drew in a deep breath, his chest squeezing tight. “You can do this, Herc,” he whispered into the demigod’s ear. “I know you can.”

Hercules felt calm seep through his limbs. At that moment, he realised his desire had nothing to do with the strange men, or their eyes and hands on his body. It was all and only Iolaus.

It was Iolaus he wanted to surrender to, Iolaus’ hands he wanted on his body, Iolaus he wanted to serve. The others were only an extension of his partner. Iolaus controlled those hands, as surely as he controlled Hercules’ own aching flesh. “I’m okay,” he whispered back.

Iolaus laid his palm against the demigod’s chest, over his heart.

Hercules moaned. His partner’s tender touch burned like a brand over his chest, shooting flames of desire through his veins. “Lesson number two?” he gasped, licking his lips.

“You feel your body throb?” Iolaus asked. “You ache to be touched? To be granted release?” He tweaked at the demigod’s nipples as he asked, glancing quickly at the other three men as they continued to massage and fondle Hercules’ thighs and belly. He turned his attention back to the writhing demigod. “Lesson number two,” he murmured, “you will be a slave to your own body as much as to your Master.”

Hercules groaned as Iolaus’ words left him no choice but to focus on the throbbing desire he felt coursing through his entire body. Prickling awareness shot along every nerve, the aching need only growing with each random brush of fingers against his skin. Blindfolded, he tried to rely on his ears, listening to the soft rustling movement of the men around him for what little warning it provided of their next target.

Biting back another moan, Hercules fought his desperate need to arch into the smooth caresses. A wide tongue rasped along his left ankle, as the hands that went with it slid along his calf, teasing through the hair there, massaging the straining muscle. He groaned. Another pair of hands smoothed over his right hip, one brushing down along his thigh as the other tickled across his belly, fingering at his navel. His body screamed at him to twist into the caress, to force those long fingers against his aching erection. The third pair of hands tugged at the hair on his chest, tweaking his nipples, dancing along his ribs. He could feel the colour rising in his cheeks as he rolled his head back and forth, whispering in soft denial. “Iolaus, I can’t... I’m not...”

Fire burned through the demigod’s blood, a raging wildfire of desire, of need, of desperation. Hercules tensed in his bonds, struggling. His body screamed to tear itself free and tackle Iolaus; to visit the same tormenting, teasing caresses on the hunter’s smooth flesh; to bring Iolaus to a screaming climax of pleasure and have his partner return the favour.

Hercules groaned, “Iolaus please!”

“Lesson number three, Herc,” Iolaus whispered, voice thick with unshed tears. “I know this isn’t easy....” He swallowed heavily.

“Iolaus?” Hercules turned toward his partner’s voice, shifting again in his bonds, wishing desperately that the blindfold was gone and he could see his partner’s eyes.

The hunter blinked, drawing a deep breath. He smiled with a false brightness, thankful for a moment that his partner was blindfolded. “I had a bit of trouble with this one myself,” he sighed.

“Number three?”

“A slave’s life is easier if he can live in the moment.” Iolaus slid his hand across the demigod’s chest, brushing through the light dusting of hair there. He tightened his fingers around Hercules’ nipple until his partner gasped, arching into his hand. “Concentrate on the pleasure to be had. Live in the moments and forget the outside world.”

Dark shutters passed over the hunter’s eyes as he continued in a dull whisper, “Forget about your audience, forget the taunts and jeers. No one exists but you and the man you... serve.” Filthy, sweat-soaked, stinking bodies, pushing, pulling hurting.... Iolaus shook his head sharply, forcibly pushing aside the painful memories. He would die before he let that happen to his partner.

“Iolaus?” Hercules frowned behind the blindfold, fingers clenching with the strain of staying where he was, listening to the obvious pain in his partner’s quiet voice.

Iolaus drew in a deep breath, turning to the man bound before him. “I know it’s difficult,” he whispered, idly brushing his fingers through the demigod’s hair as he spoke, “but we have no choice here. At least it won’t be strangers, it’ll only be me.” Iolaus grimaced sharply. Would that make it better? Or worse?

“I’m not sure I can do this, Iolaus,” Hercules whispered. It was going to be hard enough to go back after this was finished. How could he go back to being just buddies with Iolaus if he allowed himself to focus on serving his partner, to dwell on the pleasure of a physical relationship with the hunter?

His love for Iolaus had been growing continuously. Over the last few months it had been increasingly difficult to hold back. He and Iolaus had always been close. Casual touches, hugs, clasped arms... these had all been commonplace between them. Lately, he’d had to struggle to keep those touches brief and friendly.

Dwelling on the feel of Iolaus’ hands on his skin, on the thought of serving Iolaus as a pleasure slave, allowing himself to believe that they could be together in that way would only make it even more impossible to go back. He shook his head silently.

“I know you can do this, Herc,” Iolaus reassured. “I’ll protect you from as much as I can.” Especially me, Iolaus added silently. “It’s only temporary. Once we figure out what’s going on, we can put a halt to the charade and everything can go back to the way it was.”

Iolaus blinked rapidly, turning away from the three men who were pointedly concentrating on Hercules’ body. He had no doubt that his and Herc’s relationship would never be the same again. Even if, by some miracle of the Gods, he could manage to keep his feelings from the demigod, Hercules would never be able to look at the hunter again without feeling the shame and humiliation of what they would be forced to do to carry on this masquerade.

“Iolaus?”

The hesitant voice brought Iolaus’ attention sharply back to the man bound in front of him. “I’m here, Herc,” he confirmed, breathing the words into the demigod’s ear. “Ready for lesson number four?”

Hercules moaned softly, shifting at the warm, teasing breath against his throat. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he whispered brokenly, panting softly.

Iolaus smoothed a soothing hand through Hercules’ hair. “You want to be a slave, Hercules?” he whispered, his voice thick with the strain of everything he was being forced to do and say, “then you take as much as your Master sees fit to bestow.”

Hercules’ stomach clenched at the very thought. He ached submit to his partner’s mastery, to take everything Iolaus had to give.

Iolaus looked at the three men still concentrating on the demigod’s body. “Autolycus,” he tapped on the thief’s shoulder, “take your friends back to camp. Have yourselves something to eat, maybe take a swim.”

Autolycus arched a brow in the hunter’s direction. “Are we done?”

“For now,” Iolaus nodded. “I have one more lesson for Hercules right now, but I think it’s better done in private. I won’t need your help again until later this afternoon.” He looked to Rafe and Eldon. “Assuming you’re still willing,” he added.

“Oh yeah,” Rafe nodded, licking his lips.

“Count me in,” Eldon agreed.

“Fine,” Iolaus nodded, barely sparing a further glance toward the two men as he turned his attention back to his partner. “Autolycus will show you back to camp,” he waved them off.

Hercules licked his lips. “We need privacy for lesson number four?” he asked softly. “Is it that bad?” He grinned. “Or that good?”

Iolaus couldn’t share the laugh. He was already desperately trying to harden his heart, to shore the walls around it, against what he needed to do. It’s just another job, he reminded himself harshly. Just do it and get it over with. “You’ll have to perform for strangers soon enough,” the words came out more harshly than the hunter’d intended. He sighed, lowering his voice, “I just thought that this first time, it would be less embarrassing to do this alone.”

“I’m sorry, Iolaus,” Hercules murmured. “I know how difficult this must be for you.”

Iolaus gaped at the blindfolded man in front of him. He was apologizing?! Hercules was allowing himself to be forced into bondage, into slavery, was submitting himself to the Gods-knew-what kind of degradation and torment at his partner’s hands, and he was apologizing. It must be hard on ME?! “Don’t apologise, Herc,” Iolaus finally found his voice, “we’ll both do what has to be done.” He cleared his throat sharply. “Now, lesson number four, remember?”

“Right,” Hercules nodded. “Lesson number four.”

The hunter moved slowly from where he had been kneeling near Hercules’ shoulder, sliding his hands down the demigod’s chest.

Hercules gasped, arching into his partner’s caress. The desire that begun to ebb slightly blazed back into full flame, licking at his groin, burning a sharp trail of fire through every vein. “Iolaus, please,” he gasped, “I can’t... I’m gonna...”

Iolaus curled his fingers around the demigod’s balls, squeezing just hard enough to hear Hercules gasp and see him squirm against the discomfort. “Not yet,” he ordered. “Lesson number four, a slave must never release without his Master’s permission.” His fingers gentled, becoming a caress, re-igniting Hercules’ passion. Iolaus continued to smooth over his partner’s body, teasing at his cock, fondling his balls, whispering as he did so, “Every part of you belongs to your Master, including your seed. You must never spill it without permission.”

Hercules arched, lifting his hips completely off the ground in an effort to feel a stronger touch than the light, teasing caresses Iolaus was offering. “Iolaus, please!” he groaned.

“Yes, that’s right,” Iolaus murmured, “very good.” He wrapped his fingers around the demigod’s towering erection, beginning a slow, steady stroke. “A proper slave must beg for his own release.”

Hercules gasped, struggling with his own body, fighting to hold fast and not break the bonds that Iolaus had placed on him, straining against his body’s ache, its scream, to thrust wildly into the hunter’s tight grip and take his own pleasure, grant his own release from this torment. “Gods, Iolaus, please,” he panted.

“Are you ready, Herc?” Iolaus tightened his grip, picking up the pace a little. “Do you want it? Do you need it?”

“Yesss,” Hercules hissed, gritting his teeth, barely holding onto his control.

“What do you want, Hercules? Tell me.”

“I want to come. Iolaus, please!” Hercules tossed his head back and forth, clenching his fists, fighting to hold back the explosion he could feel approaching. “Please, Master, let me come.” The words passed his lips without the demigod even being aware of what exactly he had said.

But the strained whisper thundered through Iolaus, hammering through the wall he’d so carefully constructed around his heart and leaving only rubble in its wake. He gasped, clenching one fist tight around his partner’s cock, as he slammed the other against his codpiece, barely preventing himself from coming in his pants like a desperate schoolboy. “Come for me, Herc,” he grated.

Unaware of anything but the tight grip around his erection and the permission granted by his partner, Hercules thrust upward, shouting his release, shooting jets of semen across Iolaus’ fist and his own chest as he shuddered through his climax.

Iolaus watched his partner’s tremendous release with awe. Each shudder that trembled through Hercules’ body echoed through the hunter’s as well. The hoarse shout of his own name still echoed in his ears. He released the demigod’s deflating cock, and lifted his hand, dripping with his partner’s semen.

He stared, watching it move, almost of its own volition, closer and closer to his lips. His mind screamed at him that it was a bad idea, but Iolaus ignored it, extending his tongue instead, to meet the wet fingers halfway, taking his first taste of the demigod’s seed. Lost in the salty-sweet flavour, he slurped at his fingers, sucking them deep into his mouth until they were completely clean.

Hercules moaned softly, rolling his head to the side as awareness returned to him. “Iolaus?”

The hunter started, reality crashing in, where he was and what he was doing rushing foremost into his mind. “I’m still here, buddy,” he murmured, shifting quickly to release the bonds on the demigod’s wrists and ankles before settling again at Hercules’ shoulders, lifting his head to rest in Iolaus’ lap.

Still awash in the satiation of his climax, Hercules barely noticed the return of his freedom. Instead, he savoured the comfort, the connection, of resting in his partner’s arms, his head cushioned on warm, leather-clad thighs.

Iolaus removed the blindfold, and the demigod blinked at the flood of midday sunlight into his unaccustomed eyes.

The hunter smiled down at Hercules, unaware of the vision he presented with the sun above him, turning his hair into waves of gold around his face. Swirling his index finger through the semen coating Hercules’ chest, Iolaus lifted it to the demigod’s lips, waiting for them to open.

Hercules’ eyes widened, but he obediently opened his mouth, extending his tongue to lick off his partner’s finger. Again and again, Iolaus repeated the gesture, and each time Hercules laved the extended finger clean. He swirled his tongue around in his mouth, testing the flavour. He’d never tasted his own seed before. It was thick and salty, mildly interesting, unremarkable. But it left him with a wild yearning to taste Iolaus’ seed, to swallow it and savour it, straight from its source.

“Iolaus...” he started to speak.

“Shhh,” Iolaus whispered, soothing back the demigod’s hair, “rest for a while.”

Hercules was about to protest, but the hunter cut him off. “You have more yet to learn, but it will wait. Rest now.”