#onceyourgod

"Hey!" Artemis sat down next to Jack heavily. Her smaller hands reached over and closed his book. The teenager's blue eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. Their shade matched Jack's exactly.

"I have questions." Artemis scooched closer. She had chosen a dark denim jacket for today ( swiped from Jack's closet last year when she decided it was hers ) and a pair of blue jeans with the knees torn out. The faded t - shirt she wore featured a jazz band that she seemed far too young to know — but she was his. "So, Dad ... how do you know when a boy likes you? Like, likes you? This guy tried to kiss me yesterday after school, but I didn't want it. I hit him good, and, uh ... Cindy says I shouldn't've, y'know — that he has a crush on me or something stupid. How was I supposed to know, though? Seriously, how was I supposed to know?"

— @onceyourgod ( artemis ), unprompted.

The petulant “I was reading that” would have been humiliating on anyone else, but for Jack—who was entirely unashamed of matching his kids’ energy—it was just another Tuesday. At this point his kids knew that as long as he was home, he could be interrupted; the work ethic he carried from before fatherhood was as true now as it had ever been. Besides, any part of Artemis’ life she chose to share with him was infinitely more interesting than the book he was reading.

Even if, by the end of her spiel, he found himself muffling a laugh into the side of his fist. Artemis’ attempt to specify seriousness did little to stifle his amusement (and, somewhere deep down, a quiet sense of sadness that came with realising his little girl wasn’t quite so little any more).

“You weren’t,” came his answer, throat cleared after, “if that makes you feel better. This guy just tried to shoot his shot—it’s not your fault it went poorly.”

He wanted so badly to ask her how she decked him. With much effort, however, Jack held that curiosity back.

“You got your own life, right? And since you don’t like-like” – God, that term brought him back – “this boy, it’s no fuckin’ wonder you didn’t notice anything going on.”

Sitting up properly, Jack slung his arm over the couch, body turned to face Artemis as he looked down at her.

It was impossible to miss the way the other trembled next to Fiyero. It was a rather brisk night, and they were deep in the woods on their walk by that point, so it was too late to try and find some mutually beneficial solution. And, had it been anyone else, Fiyero isn't so certain he'd be so outwardly worried about their comfort.

Though, there was no hesitation in the prince as he slid his jacket off of his own shoulders and onto Ares'.

"Give me your arm," he instructed delicately, tenderly guiding his arm up with the tips of his fingers in order to slip the deep blue, velvety sleeve over it. Within moments, the jacket is secured over Ares and Fiyero is smoothing out any creases.

"Is that any better?"

Physical intimacy was something that was as easy as instinct for Fiyero. In some strange way, it's the only time he feels like he's honest in his desires. He's always had a facade of someone who doesn't care, because it's always been easier to just stuff down anything meaningful.

But with intimacy, any love and desire he felt could come through.

It'd dawned on him that, while intimacy may be something to come easily to himself, that it's something new to Ares all together. Though, if Ares hadn't been the one to initiate the affections, Fiyero isn't certain if he'd have ever demonstrated them towards the other.

Still, Fiyero knew he'd do everything in his power to ensure Ares enjoyed everything he did and that he didn't do anything Ares wouldn't enjoy.

Absently, Ares asked Robert to hand him a wooden spoon from one of the drawers in front of him. He didn't think about which he pointed to — not until the shiny foil sprang into the corner of his vision.

"That's — that's —" Ares slid over, placed his hand over his boyfriend's on the handle, and shut it forcefully. He cleared his throat. Something like embarrassment flooded his face, even if he did not understand quite what that meant. Why he didn't want Robert to see the designated kitchen stash of condoms, he wasn't sure. After all, Kevin had told him to be safe, and this was a practical and very central place to store them in the room.

Ares' fingers remained curled over Robert's. He ducked his head away, though, in an effort to clear the heat risen in it. "That's just in case we were to ... I have considered ..." ( oops. ) Ares flinched lightly. "I need to finish dinner. Humans need to consume dinner." Finally, he attempted to remove his hand.

— @onceyourgod, unprompted.

It doesn't matter how quickly Ares tries to divert his attention. Part of being a hero means being vigilant-- a trait Robert certainly isn't lacking in-- and a split-second is all he needs to process most of what he sees.

Including the rather colourful foil of what most certainly is contraception.

Part of him wants to tease, but Ares' tone implies enough embarrassment someone on the moon could probably hear it. Robert knows by now that there's a lot Ares hasn't done yet, and for that reason he's been taking things slow. But it occurs to him that this is the first time Ares has ever invited him over, and they have been on a handful of dates. Maybe he's been waiting for Robert to invite him back to his apartment these last couple ones... and maybe Ares' own initiative is why Robert is here for dinner.

It's a terribly adorable consideration.

"Babe," Robert starts, finger absently looping around the delicate tie that keeps Ares' apron on, "we're dating. You're allowed to think dirty things about people you're dating."

Two arms loop around Ares' waist, and a kiss is pressed delicately to his shoulder. The gesture is open and affectionate; to no surprise, Robert cares more about Ares' feelings than the humiliation of Kevin walking in on them being cheesy.

So much about the human experience is new to Ares that Robert never knows what he wants from it. On the bright side, at least sex is easy-- especially sex with someone he likes so much.

— @onceyourgod, prompts.

It wasn't bad advice, that was for sure, and still Robert took a good fifteen seconds before he finally swivelled his seat enough to meet Ares' gaze.

His expression was as flat as ever.

"Was mothering always part of your protocol, or is that a new thing for you?"

Hm. Maybe that was too mean.

Robert sighed. Beef had already fallen asleep underneath his desk on his pillow; there was no reason for Robert not to pick his dog up and take the train back home. And yet, like the most stubborn stain on the planet, he remained.

Suddenly, though, the television paused. Ares' eyes blinked, coming back to life in some sense, and moved down to the small swell of his belly ( hidden beneath one of Jack's shirts ). His palm swept over it.

Soon, Ares' voice cut through the room. Clean, crisp, and with a sentimentality that was reserved just for Jack's ears. "I have collected enough information to assume the baby's sex," Ares said, setting the remote in his lap. "-- with a very slight margin for error." He frowned. "Would you like to know it, Jack?"

— @onceyourgod, unprompted.

As Ares' voice cut through the voice of Billie Holiday, Jack looked up from where he'd been sketching (and out of habit, used his palm to cover the part of the page where he'd been tracing Ares' profile with a pencil). Having been in one of his "drawing moods", it took a hot second for his brain to process what was spoken, but when it did--

"What?"

His posture straightened then, legs uncrossing as he peered in Ares' direction.

"Wait-- like, you just figured it out now?"

Jack couldn't deny the excitement that began to thud in his veins. Before Ares and what felt like a whirlwind of impulsive decisions, he'd begun to accept that parenthood was simply not in the cards for him. But then Ares had offered to make his dream come true, and ever since, it was like his home had turned into a domestic Twilight Zone. In a way, he'd never been more content-- or so quick to be filled with cheer.

"Fuck yeah I wanna know the sex! Come on!"

Though he grinned often, the one he wore now was so filled with joy his eyes twinkled with sincerity. Jack put his sketchbook and pencil down and rushed across the living room, then dropped to his knees between Ares' legs. As always, two hands pressed to the swell of Ares' belly beneath the soft plaid he wore as his lips found the top of it in a kiss.

Jack looked up, attentive and eager. "Lay it on me, sweetheart."

pressing   their   hand   over   your   heartbeat. [ Darren's hand over Ares' heart? ]

The interview had been too much for Darren. He knew the outlet was known for asking shitty things all for the sake of views, but when they kept trying to get information out of him and kept insisting that his childhood was so tragic, it's why he never spoke about it- which, in fairness, was the truth of the matter- he walked off and immediately sought out Ares who was sitting patiently in the other room.

Getting home had gone smoothly, and yet still took too long.

Though, the moment they entered their abode, Darren wrapped his arms around Ares, burying his face into the crook of his neck and allowed the tears to finally fall.

He hated feeling like this, but he knew Ares would never judge him for it.

Darren's hand settled upon his chest after a few moments, knowing that focusing on the other man's heartbeat was inevitably the only thing that'd calm himself down.

It was just a fan — an over - zealous, shouting one — but Ares was nonetheless quick to react. He scooped Darren up without a word as the young girl slipped past the first security guard. Ares held the star against his chest protectively, as if Darren weighed little more than a doll that he could treasure. Luckily, another member of Darren's staff caught the fan by the arm before she could get close to Ares. The leather - clad man relaxed at that. He breathed out slowly, and Ares' unblinking eyes softened. They gained moisture, seemed to spark, and became life - like again. Ares looked down at Darren. He realized then what he had done. "Are you alright ?" he asked. The flicker of red in his irises was gone. All that remained was pure, deep blue, the sort that could be drowned in.

Everything happened so quickly that Darren didn't initially know what was transpiring; and yet, despite his ignorance to matters at hand, he knew he was safe.

He was always safe when Ares was around.

Only when he picked up on what Ares was protecting him from- when he made sense of the whirlwind around them- did he look back up at the other. A hand came to cup the side of Ares's neck, pad of his thumb stroking along the jut of his jawline.

"I'm alright," he reassured sincerely. "Are you?"