Lord of the Dead

That added ouch, no matter how played up, did bring a smile to Hermes’ face, and he felt oddly satisfied. It was usually the smallest of things that did it for him, no matter what most people thought. Yes, he was a well-known magpie who coveted anything that glimmered, but he could also get those things himself. Hermes was for all intents and purposes excellent at getting what he wanted, be it favors or items. So it was the small things, which he didn’t have to ask for or didn’t necessarily have a monetary value, that mattered the most. Though he would, obviously, be exceptionally disappointed if people stopped giving him gifts just because of that. “Thank you.” What was that? The fourth, fifth, thanks that he’d said since they woke up? He was using up an entire year’s supply. 

Hermes was certainly more focused on potential difficulties and hurdles they might face than usual, but it was necessary, wasn’t it? He had to prove that he was taking things seriously, and not taking advantage of his well-meaning, but often soft-hearted, husband. “Ah.” Taking a moment to ponder Hades’ words, Hermes sat back up, though he covered Hades’ hands with his own, thumbs brushing along the back and along the sides of his wrists. “I mean, I already assumed we weren’t going to give up our own quarters simply because we decide on an apartment together?” He furrowed his brows in question, not quite following Hades’ train of thought. “And either way, even if we share a bedroom one day a week or once a year, you still need to consider what I said. Especially if we’re going to be talking about fidelity and all that.”

Part of why Hermes’ guilt became so immense whenever he thought back to their failed marriage was because he’d never done anything unknowingly. Unlike Hades, who often did the wrong things for the right reason, and perhaps didn’t give the consequences of his actions enough thought, Hermes had always known exactly what he did and why. Most times it’d been for the sole purpose of being hurtful, and other times he’d willingly - remorselessly - taken advantage of his husband’s mental state. At the times he hadn’t thought twice about it, but in hindsight even Hermes at his most callous could see how awful that behavior had been. Which, now, made him both want to do better as well as be more lenient with the way he thought back to Hades’ mistakes. “I hope so, I truly do.” He didn’t dare to put faith in it, not yet, but he was hopeful. More-so than in a very long time.

A ill-hidden smile tugged at Hermes’ lips and he gave Hades’ hair another tug. The other didn’t have the most expressive face - not because his features disallowed it, but because it took some work to get the more rare expressions such as a wrinkled nose or pout to appear - and it was always fun to make him react. “Thank you,” he said, relaxing slightly. He wouldn’t have had any issues talking to Demeter or Hestia, but the other three? Fuck no. Well, he probably would’ve if Hades asked him to, but since the other didn’t, Hermes sure as hell wasn’t going to offer. “I think that’s a question you need to consider more closely than I.” Oh, it would’ve been so easy to say yes, wouldn’t it? But they were trying to be sensible, and Hermes was a bit worried about Hades getting ahead of himself. Sliding his hands back down to rest between their chests, he gave Hades a soft push back down onto the mattress, then leaned down over him. “Selfishly, I’m all for it, but how are you going to feel after a week or two if I don’t come home one night? Or if I get too intimate and close too often? Or if we have a fight and neither of us have learnt how to walk away just yet? Or if I get startled and flinch away from your touch again? You need to consider all those things, Hades.”

For good measure, knowing exactly what Hermes was after, Hades added a silent ouch to the second time his nose scrunched up. Sometimes it really was the small things that did it, and if that was all it took to make Hermes’ smile some more he’d do it over and over again. “Of course.” Knowing his siblings it wouldn’t just be Hera that had a few well chosen words. If anything he’d be hearing a lot more than he cared for, but the least he could do was take the brunt of it away from Hermes, he did have a bit more leverage on the lot of them all things considered should it go that far. 

Bitter was certainly one way to put it, and it encapsulated the sentiment rather well. It was part of why it felt so surreal for them to be this close, this willing to give them another try. If it hadn’t been for his previous headache, Hermes might’ve suspected he was still asleep, or at least having a vivid daydream. In his weakest moments he’d often wondered what it might’ve been like if he’d acted differently, been a little more willing to compromise, to accommodate. Sometimes, he ended up feeling justified, and other times, regretful. But now that he was actually given the chance? He wasn’t sure how to feel or act. “No, we can both be quite harsh, but I’m not going to pretend like we’re equally bad at letting things go just because it’ll make me feel better.” God, he really disliked being this open about his own flaws. It made it so much more difficult to deny them in the future. “I don’t like the way I treated you, last time, and I don’t want to behave the same way.”

Pulling a face at Hades’ encouragement, Hermes’ whole body-language expressed how uncomfortable that sort of vulnerability made him. Yes, he was a little proud too, because at the end of the day, it was some sort of self-improvement. But the majority of him really, really disliked it. “You don’t have to highlight it,” he muttered, fingers closing around a red lock to give it a semi-hard pull. A hesitant expression then fitted over his face as he thought about telling their family. The idea of facing their whispers and judgment made him want to shrink away and never tell a soul, but that was just his first instinct - the one he always had when it came to being seen by their closest relatives. His second instinct, however, was to make a derisive sound and shrug. “I don’t mind if we tell them straight away or wait, or simply let them see the rings and figure it out themselves. That’s completely up to what you want. My only wish is that you deal with your own siblings, and I don’t have to be there.” 

It felt incredible to hear the value Hermes really did give him, and not just assume. Read between the lines. Trust what was shown and not said had never really been Hades strong suit, considering how he could weigh down his own mind in spirals that seemed endlessly deep. It was hard to deny the obvious in that he had needed to hear it more, or in different ways. the first time around. But deciding to try and not look back too far and put a shadow over the new start they were making. “I don’t want to treat you in the ways I did before either. There was a lot of wrong done... too much. I truly think we have a better situation ahead of us this time.” 

As convincing as Hades’ smile seemed, Hermes still couldn’t shake the feeling of that breaching the topic of fidelity would put an end to the peace between them. It’d been such an issue in the past, for many different reasons. They chasm between them had started with Hermes feeling unwanted, then increased by his inability to put words to it, until he’d inevitably ended up cheating. Which in turn had created a whole new slew of problems they hadn’t been capable of dealing with. All those memories swirled around in his mind and Hermes leaned his head against Hades’ for a moment, trying to push them away. “I’m not sure being completely subjective is the way to go, either,” he muttered, knowing that putting aside one’s feelings and notions could very well backfire in the future. “I know. But– communicating isn’t always my strong suit when I’m upset. That’s going to take a lot of work, and I feel sometimes it’s better if you just leave instead of letting me go on. As we’ve just recently seen, I’m not exactly good at letting things go.” It was a well-known fact that many of their arguments could’ve been avoided if Hermes simply knew when enough was enough, but that was yet a lesson he needed to learn. “We can try that. Writing it down. Seems a bit like something a therapist would suggest, but sure.” It also seemed like something Hera or Aphrodite would suggest, then again, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “Of course,” he agreed, much easier this time, seeing as that was something he definitely could do. Leaning back once more, he offered a slight smile. “I do want to return to you. Always. That’s not something that’s ever changed, despite how I’ve been acting. I’m not– I don’t care about anyone the way I care about you, and I never have. Also, I’m probably too messed up to do so in the future, too.” 

With a hand on Hermes’ neck, feeling the soft pulse under the warm skin. Hades felt a sense of comfort, yet another thing which could ground him to the moment. Listening to what was said, and weighing what was left unsaid, he felt a lot like he was left with a text book yet no answers. It was all in front of him, it should be simple enough, yet it never was when you were emotionally invested. “We both need to work on how we communicate.” He gently provided while Hermes went on. “But I agree, we both need to be better with reading situations, when to walk away when to not. You’re hardly the only one of us that can be considered... bitter.” For a lack of better word Hades settled on it, and it was descriptive enough of their actions from time to time. “We are both good writer, why not use it for ourselves too?” 

It took him a second or two to respond to Hades’ kiss, momentarily awestruck at the fact that Hades was, willingly, kissing him once more. It sent a wave of devotion so strong through him that he had a hard time not pressing himself closer to the other god, to simply try to consume everything his husband was. Still, he restrained himself, having had well enough practice with that throughout the years, and simply cupped Hades’ cheeks, leaning in a little. “Let’s try to be that, then. At least for a little while.” Sensible. What a horrible adjective. Necessary, true, but horribly boring. And yet Hermes was serious about them approaching this with some sort of responsibility, not throwing themselves headfirst and ending up hurt all over again. 

Brushing his thumbs along Hades’ cheekbones before allowing his arms to fall back to their place across his shoulders, Hermes pulled a face. He knew he was allowed to speak his mind but he also knew it might lead to difficulties. “We’ll talk about it. Just not right at this moment. In a little while. After we’ve hashed out some other things,” he conceded, a compromise for once. “I honestly don’t know. It’s difficult to discuss without picking at old wounds and that’s the last thing I want to do right now. But perhaps some ground rules? Things we simply cannot abide this time around. For example,” he paused and leaned back a little, making sure to meet Hades’ eyes, “if we have an argument and things are about to get out of control, one of us have to leave. I don’t want to end up verbally assaulting you as I’ve had plenty of times before, and I don’t want to deal with the consequences of that, either.” That was a nice way of describing their behaviors. “Also, if I want to ever leave - for a an hour or a day or whatever - you have to let me." 

Not giving in, and losing himself in the moment, was hard. All of Hermes was so tempting, and he was right there, actually in his arms. How many nights had he not spent dreaming oft his? Wishing Hermes was so very close, and opening his eyes to an empty room. It was like balm for a very broken soul, which gave him a perspective of what Nirvana possible was like. Never mind that he already knew Elysium on a personal level.

“I’m always sensible and mature, no effort needed.” It felt good to be able to joke around with Hades. For so long, he’d been either walking on egg-shells or needling the other god for a reaction, and this was incomparably much better. It still made a small part of him wonder when the other shoe was going to drop, but Hermes pushed that voice down. Resting his arms over Hades’ shoulders, he lazily began untangling some of the red hair from what might be the last remnants of a braid, might be just a big mess. “That sounds like a big project. Perhaps just– let’s find an unused apartment in the citadel and stay there for a while. To see how things goes. We haven’t coexisted for quite some time.” See? Mature and sensible. Hermes almost could’ve smiled, hadn’t Hades next question made him flinch a little. That was a topic he’d dreaded to even breach, knowing how many of their issues stemmed from it. “Ah, can’t we… circle back to that in a while?” he asked. “I don’t think that’s something I’m able to compromise about just yet.” Granted, Hermes was fully aware of unfair he’d been, expecting complete fidelity and devotion from Hades while being unable to give the same. He knew that. But he also knew if Hades ever changed his stance on the subject and wanted more freedom for himself, Hermes would revise his stance on pacifism and kill whomever had caught his husband’s eye. And that wasn’t a very appealing idea. 

Once spoken, Hermes knew there was no way to undo the words he’d just confessed. It was a terrifying and exhilarating realization all at once, given how little faith he had in them but also, how much he hoped for something better this time around. Also, it was considerably easier to focus on the positive as Hades was still holding him, his mere presence a constant comfort. “Yeah, alright.” He tilted his head just enough to brush his lips against the corner of Hades’ mouth, then exhaled a deep breath, steadying himself for the coming conversation. It took effort not to automatically crack a joke or some sarcastic comment, but rather take it with the proper amount of seriousness. He owed them that much. “I can try to… compromise,” he agreed, though albeit a little reluctantly. “It is a good approach, honestly. Very mature and sensible.” A small smirk, and he tilted his head to kiss the other corner of Hades’ mouth. The smirk then grew into a genuine smile as they found another common ground. “I’d like that as well,” he agreed, desperately missing the home he’d once had. Perhaps not in a physical sense, but metaphorically. A place to return to, to come back to. “But I don’t want to leave the Underworld. I’d like us to live there, just not— in your quarters? I know we’ve had a habit of using your apartments and I’ve always come to you, but it’d feel better if we had something new, perhaps?”

Hermes rarely appreciated Hades’ ability to be rational even when emotionally invested. It had put the younger god at a disadvantage more times than he cared to admit, and more often than not ended with him trying to drag Hades down to his own level of emotional incompetence. Today, however, he somehow managed to quench that impulse, and instead gave a small nod. They were talking about it, that much was true, and it was more progress than he’d expected. Than he’d dared to hope for. “Right,” he agreed, more to himself than Hades, and managed to pull himself a little further out of that deep pool of cynicism he waded through. 

Hermes wasn’t proud of the fact that he leaned into Hades and allowed their bubble to establish itself even further, but he did and it felt so comforting. It felt so right, and so familiar, and he simply couldn’t resist it. “I want to be married to you, too,” he eventually managed to get out, even if it was quiet and sounded more like a reluctant admission than emotional confession. But it was taxing, being open and honest and admitting something that might as well get him heartbroken once more. Their relationship had done a number on him and Hermes was daunted by the idea of having to experience any of that hardship again. Even more daunted by the fact that Hades didn’t seem to share his concerns, at least not on the same level. It reminded him of just how terrible he’d been at holding up his end of their marriage, and he once more hated the fact that the fates had seen it fit to grant him a husband much better than himself. “So just— we’re just going to state what we want? And then what? Negotiate?” Finally raising his head, he gave Hades a skeptical look. “You’re awful at that. Like, literally the worst I’ve ever met, especially when I’m concerned. You’ve almost always given me exactly what I’ve wanted even at your own expense.” 

Being a creature blessed with selective hearing as well as memory, Hermes had no problem scrolling through his mental rolodex and procuring a long list of times Hades had banished him from his presence or even the Underworld as a whole. The memories made him take Hades’ words with a grain of salt, through their meaning came across without issue. “You say that now, but what of in a month or two, when we’re back to arguing?” he asked, not even realizing the seriousness of his own inquiry before it’d been spoken. What if they gave it another try and he somehow messed up again? Or if their expectations didn’t align like the first time over? Would Hades send him away? Tell him not to show his face in the Underworld again? What consequences would failing bring this time around, and would Hermes be able to deal with them? He had been doing better, but it’d taken so long to get to where he was. 

Hermes didn’t move as Hades sat up, if anything he was grateful for the distraction as it broke the negative spiraling his mind had set in motion, only leaving behind a sour reminder of how utterly unqualified he’d been as a husband the first time around. “I am looking at you,” he protested quietly, eyes sliding back to focus somewhere on Hades’ shoulder, though he did lean into the touch. Stiffening instinctively as Hades confirmed I love you, not having heard it for so long that it was almost painful, Hermes drew a short breath, the air searing his lungs and throat. “You always make it sound so easy, when, in fact, nothing about this ever is,” he half sighed, half complained, and closed his eyes as he rested his cheek against Hades’ palm. “So what are we supposed to do, then? Just– go back to being married? Just like that?”

“That is what we need to establish. What we need to talk about, and are talking about now.” it was a large simplification of things, but in broad strokes that really was what they needed and truly had to do. They could walk away, true, but neither one wanted to it seemed. What they did need either way was a more clear set idea of how to handle situations, which supposedly would help them along their way in whatever version of their relationship going forward. True, easier said than done. But clearly necessary. 

“I mean, I’ve used that as a threat at least a dozen time without much success, so I don’t see why this time would be any different.” Hermes frowned, a mix of confusion and disbelief in his eyes. As adept as he was at reading Hades’ intentions, he’d never quite gotten the hang of when the other man took him seriously or not. Hades was quite adept at looking like he was listening and agreeing, only to do a 180 degrees switch in attitude and intention the very next second. “Also, we were drunk, and under pretty strained circumstances.” He’d rather have Charon drown him in the Styx than allow Hades to marry him out of pity or some savior complex.

As soon as that thought appeared it emerged itself in the depth of Hermes’ mind, and he had to fight not to let it consume him. Objectively, he was quite certain Hades still loved him and wanted them to be together again. Subjectively? Well, subjectively Hermes had never been that self-assured. Oh, he portrayed it well enough, but when push came to shove he didn’t know what to do with any emotion from or directed towards himself. “I just don’t–” he sighed, paused to search for words again, and brushed his thumb along one of Hades’ collar bones to keep himself somewhat distracted “– it doesn’t feel right if this is because you just want to help me out with the whole Hera-situation, or feel like you’re obliged to because of our history together.” Stilling his hand, Hermes averted his gaze to look around the temple rather than at Hades. “I mean, you divorced me for a reason, remember?”

“Because maybe I worry you might actually be serious, and the idea of not having you even around... Well it is not a kind of world I would want to be part of, so I would rather avoid that.” The reasoning came bit by bit as Hades very much preferred not to think too much about it. Surely one of these days Hermes would have enough and it would turn out a reality, or at least for an extended amount of time which was still too much time then Hades would like. “Yes, we were. But I don’t think either one of us would have if we didn’t want to. Drunk and strained or not.”

“No? No to what? You don’t think I’m pleasant or you don’t think I’m reasonable?” Hermes raised his eyebrows in question but it was easy to deduce a good amount of mirth behind his words, and he was predictably distracted from what might’ve very well become a real point of contention as Hades kissed him. Unexpected enough to warrant a pause, Hermes heart beat double, a erratic and surprised stucco. He breathed out a startled sound as he pressed Hades’ back against the mattress, feeling his face heat up with the many emotions that had stirred up. “Well,” he began, clearing his throat, “why don’t you start by telling me what you want, and then I’ll go?”

Now, Hermes was in no way a creature of propriety and decorum, but he couldn’t help but to feel a little thrown off by Hades’ entrance point into their discussion. He had expected the other man to fumble through hypotheticals about whether or not they were even going to remain married, or want a discussion about the very real ramifications of their decision. “I don’t—” he fumbled for words as his thoughts weren’t in synch with his emotions, and Hades’ hands weren’t making things any easier. They were straying just shy of improper and it was extremely difficult for Hermes not to get distracted or do something even more immoral in return. “I was thinking more if we should get this revoked or not…?” he then stated in a somewhat uncertain voice, as though he wasn’t sure if he should even present that option. 

Few things amused Hades as much as being able to have Hermes seemingly at a loss for words. The blushing certainly added to the experience too. Just basking in it, as Hermes tried to find his footing again, he relaxed a little bit more to attempt to find some of his own footing, as it seemed the topics in their near future might not be the easiest.

No, playing nice had never come naturally to Hermes, with him quickly learning to differentiate between necessary pleasantries and true politeness, and then crafting a persona thereafter. By now, so many decades later, he was seen as one of the most agreeable gods out there, always seeking equilibrium and taking up the mantle of diplomat - but only in matters which didn’t involve him directly. Once he got in on a personal level, he was rarely accommodating to anyone but his own needs. One could only hope that his stance somehow aligned with their own, which, at the moment, it did. “I’ve been told I have a very pleasant and reasonable disposition, indeed.” Hermes didn’t feel any need to rock the calm which had spread out between him and Hades, much less do anything to create unpleasantries. He was, for lack of a better word, content. Which he hadn’t been in an exceptionally long time. 

“Ah no, don’t put this on me,” he sighed fondly, dropping his hand to Hades’ sternum and putting enough weight on it to press the other more firmly into the mattress, leaning down over him. “Notice how I said we?” he continued with a smile, feeling and looking so much better already with the headache and hangover out of the way, and completely disregarding whether his husband felt the same. “I’m not deciding anything about this on my own, nor are we basing our actions on my thoughts alone.” Which sounded nice and all, but it was mainly because Hermes didn’t want to go first with expressing his feelings. He didn’t want to put it out there how he felt and what he wanted and open up for the possibility of Hades not feeling or wanting the same. Rejection fucking stung, so it was better to deal, rather than experience, it.

“That- No-” barely being able to hold back an amused smile, better yet the laughter in his voice, Hades leaned up a few inches to be able to actually kiss Hermes. Allowing the brief moment of silence be his time to catch up. Sinking deeper into the mountain of pillows, and mattress, because of the pressure. “See I also want this to be a we situation, but for a we to get anywhere we need to know what both parts would like.” Was he a bit too practical? Yes, always. 

Living in a state of willful ignorance had always appealed to Hermes, more so these past years, and he wasn’t about to go poking around in their shared past unless absolutely necessary. As it were, focusing on the moment appeared the best course of action, and for once, something they both seemed to agree on. “See? Doesn’t basic manners just make life so much easier?” He leaned down with a smile, more than aware of his own unwillingness to use said pleasantries, and closed his eyes briefly as the headache slowly dissipated. As he opened them again, he saw the slight change in Hades’ appearance, but for once, it didn’t unsettle him. Hermes was well in-tune with when to be weary of the other, and this certainly wasn’t the time. “Thank you.” Not completely without manners, it would seem. Feeling rejuvenated, Hermes sat up straighter after pressing a grateful kiss to Hades’ cheek, stretching his arms above his head until his bones cracked. He was feeling better by the moment, but with that clarity, so came his usual spirited nature. “So,” he began, tapping a hand against Hades’ sternum and then raising it to draw attention to the wedding band now back in its rightful place, “what are we going to do about this?” 

“See you keep having points, again and again.” His voice was filled with a generous amount of amusement to it, but Hermes seemed to have a surprising amount of them, the points that is. But mostly only because he actually seemed to want to play nice, which was more than he’d ever really managed to get out of the other as a child. Not that he had been outright rude, but Hermes certainly had wasted no time in learning when he could or couldn’t be rude. Mostly behind someone’s back. 

“It’s only been recently proved effective,” Hermes admitted with unusual introspection, more than aware of how ineffective it’d been not only in his youth but throughout most of their first marriage. Pulling the decanter back he sat it to the side, then used his now free hand to run his knuckles along Hades’ cheekbone and down along his jaw. It felt slightly surreal to be able to touch Hades like this and Hermes relished the feeling, just as he relished in the feeling of Hades’ warm palms along his legs. Having touch as his primary love-language really was a bitch when you were estranged to the object of your affection, so right now he was soaking up every second. Admittedly, it would be much better if he wasn’t also dealing with a monumental headache. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked, but can you magic away hangovers as well?” he asked, brows furrowed as his fingers slid down to grasp Hades’ jaw between his thumb and index finger. 

Hermes had woken up with the memories of last night at the forefront of his mind up until the point that blasted sunlight had washed away all coherent thought except a need for the curtains to be closed. That said, he still remembered almost everything in vivid detail, being more than well-versed in the art of remembering one’s actions even when being able to justify them by having drunk copious amounts of alcohol. He simply hadn’t… processed it yet, and chose not to do so at the moment. It was much easier to accept the kiss and warmth of Hades’ presence, resting comfortably with him and not dealing with any impeding consequences. “I always do,” he reminded more out of habit than anything else, and shuffled around until he had a leg on either side of Hades’ waist, unfurling his spine with a sigh of protest. Stretching a little bit as he took another sip from the decanter, he glanced down at Hades with a ponderous look. Well, he had closed the curtains and fetched them water. “I suppose,” he mused, benevolently, and held the decanter to his lips gently. “But only because you said please.”

It was with the disgruntled groan of someone unwilling to move and equally unwilling to be moved that Hermes made himself comfortable draped across Hades’ torso, one arm curling behind the god’s neck and the other resting between their torsos. He blinked both eyes open just to shoot Hades a tired, baleful look, but was luckily too hungover to do much more. Also, the decanter was enough to distract. “Don’t call me that,” he groused as he reached out to pluck the decanter out of the air, “I’m technically a king consort now. And also, no. I think I might throw up if I eat anything.” By-passing the fact that he still remembered most parts of last night’s idiocy, Hermes forced himself himself up into a semi-sitting position as he took a first sip of water, feeling how parched he’d been.

Not having the luxury of a incorporeal body whenever he pleased, Hermes still felt the residue of ambrosia sludge through his veins, lick a thick, viscous syrup of alcohol and nectar. It translated into an unwillingness to move any more than absolutely necessary, as well as a need to back to sleep. Unfortunately, Hermes was a notoriously early riser, and even through his entire being protested at the thought, his body still seemed to be programmed to rise as soon as it’d woken up. So there was no more sleep to be found, only hungover headache and a dry mouth. “Don’t tell me to shhh,” he muttered into Hades’ shoulder, relaxing slightly as the temple hall became low-lit and murky once more. “Do a fancy hand-gesture and get us some water instead.”