Do I ship the thing?

vomit / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell

My ship with @veniamavi

*weeps*

I love them sm. Gany loves Eros so much it’s ridic. He’s totally devoted to Mads’ Eros, and the intimacy that comes with how she plays Eros just adds a layer to it, because touching Eros is such a special thing to do, and Gany always feels a thrill whenever he does it, and is allowed to do it. My longest reply to date on this blog is basically Gany just... gushing to Eros about how much he loves him after Eros expressed concern about Gany leaving him behind. 

And like, that reply is literally before they’re even together romantically. Gany loves Eros in every way, and Eros seems pretty bewildered by this fact (and it’s adorable). And they just... ugh, they both warm my heart and kill me at the same time. 

And it’s bc of this ship that I found out Gany can indeed get angry, because Mads talked about a future thing with Eros having his wings ripped off (I can’t quite remember if we decided on the why, but I believe it’s either because he attacks Hera for the way she treats Gany, or because Zeus finds out about their relationship and gets mad). Anyways, while talking about that, Gany suddenly got exceedingly angry, and I realised that if anybody harmed Eros like that, Gany would lose it. Possibly even lash out. And once that anger burned out, he’d be pretty listless and nor smile until Eros recovered.

Eros told him once, that having his wings touched felt good. The information had been hard won - like it was a secret the Erote did not want to share with even his close friend. But he had eventually confessed, and then even allowed the youth to caress him into a relaxed, sleepy heap. It had been amusing, as well as thrilling for the cupbearer to experience.

So when he gets his own wings, he is curious to discover they way it feels, to be touched like that. What he does not realise, is just how sensitive they can be. He enjoys the way Eros strokes them, having plenty of opportunities to experience it with how terribly clumsy he is with them. His friend constantly has to aid him, twisting a feather here, smoothing scrapes there, as the youth learns how to fly - and land - without hurting himself. He’s gotten better about accidentally extending them when startled or shocked, but it happens still every so often. He has done a great deal of apologising.

But something he is coming to realise is how sensitive these new appendages are the closer one gets to where they sprout from his back. Fingers knead at the join, and he bites back a noise so terribly inappropriate for the situation. It si only made worse by the lips at his nape, and he wonders how he has never told his friend just how responsive he is to contact there. 

He sits as still as he can with rising heat in his gut, enduring this slow torture that grates on his sanity and tests the limits of his patience. He manages only minutes.

He glances at Eros, face flushed with a golden hue he is still not entirely used to when he catches his reflection sometimes. Ichor races through him, to his face, but also to other parts of his body that has him panting and squirming on the spot. It is too much, and he barely thinks before the words have tripped from his tongue, a desperate plea.

He closes his eyes a moment later, the words hanging, and he wonders if he has just cost his relationship with his friend. But then Eros is asking him where, and the rest of his meagre control is lost like loose leaves to the wind.

He should not, he knows. A god, an Erote, it matters not. He still belongs to Zeus, but that does not stop him from whimpering and leaning back, head lolling to the other god’s shoulder. 

“Anywhere. Please, just.. Your mouth. Please, Eros.” His tone leaves no mistaking that he is feeling anything but desire, a point he accentuates when his lips seek out and press to a strip of skin at Eros’ jaw, wet, and open, and hot with the gust of his breaths. His wings, still partially spread, shudder between them.

“I cannot take the torment. Please.”

“And what about you?”

Ganymede rested his chin upon his knees, pulled close against his chest by the circle of his arms. What can one say of his gesture – his manner, his whole being! – but that it exudes that youth which is still so newly immortal as to seem genuine? He will always look so, but for now he may FEEL so as well, uncertain and gentle and BOYISH. His eyes seek Eros’ and there is candid interest in their gleam. He may also still  w o n d e r  at the gods, even those he could call FRIEND. (He thinks he might call Eros such a thing. His demeanor is PLEASANT, and LIVELY, which makes Ganymede forget how horrible OTHER he is in his new home.)

Threats [starter sentences] | Accepting

His brows draw together in a scowl and his lips turn downwards until his pretty face radiates anger. Okay, so maybe he is overreacting; Eros likes to cheat sometimes when they play games, that isn’t anything new. But it’s been a bad day, and the youth isn’t in the mood for his friend’s antics. But maybe he was a little too harsh with that last comment. He doesn’t say it again, but more words do spill forth.

“Just… leave me alone. If you’re not going to be serious or fair, then I don’t want anything to do with you. Everyone seems to think they can walk all over me all of the time and I’m sick of it.”

It is rare for him to break his usually mild manner, but it has been a trying day and he has reached his limit. Of course he would not dare say this to any of the other deities, but Eros is different. Eros is his friend.

                -------------- “ remembering your love is nothing without you in the flesh.    ”