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This… is so not fair.

Thanatos is far too calm for a man who’d just felt his boyfriend cum around him for the—fifth?—time that evening (err—morning?—he’s still not all that comfortable telling time by the slight variations in Ixion’s light). It is rare that they have the chance to indulge like this, but with Lady Demeter’s endless winter finally warming and Lord Ares’ war finally at an end, it would seem that they are both keen to take advantage of their newfound time together.

The situation being what it was, they’d had so few opportunities to truly become acquainted with one another’s bodies. True, they’d had more than their fair share of pleasant fumblings between the sheets—but despite their best efforts, their trysts had always felt a bit… rushed. Not that that was always a bad thing, necessarily (although he had felt bad when he’d discovered that Than’s first time had been little more than a rushed meeting of fever-hot bodies in-between runs). So to have the time to truly savor one another’s pleasure… to learn how to give pleasure, and to receive it in turn… truly, they must have been blessed by the gods.

Except… clearly, Thanatos is much better at keeping his wits about him than his excitable boyfriend because, despite the fact that Zagreus has cum no less than five times now (maybe more—it’s becoming rather difficult for him to think straight), Thanatos is still hard as a rock. He hasn’t cum once, which is absolutely not fair. His boyfriend, who’d been an adorable, blushing virgin the first time they’d come together like this, has seemingly endless stores of stamina, which he’s been hoarding for just such an occasion. And Zagreus thinks that he might actually die before Thanatos gets off—or pass out. Blood and darkness, how is he still so fucking calm?

Zagreus knows that he must look an absolute mess. His face is red and blotchy from the endless stream of tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, his nostrils stuffed with mucus—Gods, but his dick aches, even as it stirs pathetically when the head of Thanatos’ cock jabs at his prostate. He doesn’t know if he can cum again. He doesn’t know if he wants to cum again. But the feel of Than’s thick cock twitching inside of him is too delicious—

It’s addictive.

“Tch. Again, Zag?” Than’s fingers are cold as they drag through the pathetic puddle of cum he’d managed to produce. His knuckles scrape along the tender underside of Zagreus’ length, causing the Prince to shudder, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Neither did I, he wants to say. “T-Than… please.” Zagreus isn’t quite sure what he’s begging for—not at first. A few more tears leak from the corners of his eyes as he clenches involuntarily around Thanatos’ cock—

“Tell me what you want.” Death Incarnate’s breath hitches ever-so-slightly when Zagreus’ warmth tightens around him, but otherwise, he is as stoic as ever, “Do you think that you can cum again?”

Zagreus hurriedly shakes his head, “No. No, I—,” He shudders, reaching out for Than. He closes his fingers around the older god’s thick biceps, pressing down on his lover’s skin hard enough to cause pretty golden ichor to rise to the surface. “Than…” he sobs.

Thanatos raises one silver-white eyebrow, “Do you need me to stop, Zagreus?”

“N-No.” He shakes his head again. “Don’t… Don’t stop…” He squeezes harder, knowing that he’ll likely be leaving bruises on Thanatos’ pretty skin, “I—I want you to cum…”

Thanatos seems to consider this for a moment. Slowly, he strokes one crypt-cold hand up the length of Zagreus’ side, enjoying the way that his abdominal muscles flutter under his tender caress—“Are you sure it won’t be too much?”

He… can’t promise that. Just feeling Thanatos’ engorged length inside of him is enough to force a few tears from the corners of his eyes, and he’s not even moving. He’s… incredibly overstimulated, and yet… he cannot deny that something is still missing. “Please… Gods, fill me up, Than…”

Normally, he’s quick to remind Thanatos that he can handle a bit of roughness in the bedroom—he’s not made of glass, and he will not break. But now, the gentleness with which Thanatos lowers him to the mattress serves to accentuate the not entirely unpleasant ache that is radiating through his body. There is no doubt that he has been well and truly fucked—even if he doesn’t entirely understand how Thanatos still hasn’t cum.

His dick lays flat against his stomach, the skin red and angry and so very, very sensitive. He’s thankful that Thanatos doesn’t try to touch it—and that he doesn’t mistake his lack of erection for lack of enthusiasm. He’s… very near the limits of his tolerance, but not quite there. And he wants, desperately, to feel Thanatos spend inside of him. This is a pain so entirely different from the bite of a spear into his flesh or the ache of ‘natural causes’ settling in his bones—he has grown so accustomed to pain over the last several months, it feels almost like a second nature: a natural state of being. But there’s something undeniably different about the sweet, sweet ache that Thanatos brings him—

Death Incarnate begins to move, and the tears fall freely as his poor cock stirs, making a valiant effort to respond to the would-be pleasure coursing through him. Zagreus’ mouth is moving, and though he’s not entirely cognizant of what it is that he’s saying, he thinks that he might be begging. Begging for mercy. It hurts, but at the same time, it’s Than—and Than would never truly hurt him. Not if he could help it.

Than’s tongue laps at the tears trailing from the corners of his eyes, “Shh…” The head of his cock brushes against Zagreus’ poor, abused prostate, and Zagreus whimpers, “I’m almost… hgnn… almost t-there…”

Death’s thrusts become a bit more frantic, “T-Than, I…” He cannot remember the last time he’d been this worked up. His short, blunt nails carve tiger stripes into Thanatos’ dark skin, golden ichor oozing through the scratches, “P-Please…”

Golden eyes meet mismatched red and emerald, “How is it that, even strung out and aching from pleasure… you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…?” Zagreus doesn’t think he was actually supposed to hear that. And that’s okay, because where the hell does Than getting off, saying such sweet things when he looks like this?

“Than…” he whimpers. He doesn’t think that he can take much more—

“Z-Zag…” Than’s hips stutter, and then… oh

Thanatos’ cum isn’t necessarily cold, but when you run as hot as the Prince of the Underworld, it certainly feels that way. It’s… unbelievably soothing, even if the pressure is hinging on this side of just a bit too much. Than is panting, his breath hot on the side of Zagreus’ neck, and while there’s a part of him that wishes they could stay like this forever, there’s another, much larger part of him that knows he will be infinitely more comfortable if Than pulls out. He pushes weakly at the other man’s chest, thankful that he seems to understand what Zagreus does not yet have the brain power to convey. He pulls out with a wet pop, and Zagreus sobs.

Thanatos is looking down at him in open concern, “Are you alright, Zag? Was that too much?”

It takes Zagreus a moment to get his bearings, “I’m… okay. And it—it was good. I just… I-I’m feeling very raw, right now.” He doesn’t want to move. He doesn’t want to even think about moving. “W-Would you… cuddle… with me? I know it’s going to get all gross if we don’t clean all this up soon, but…”

Thanatos inclines his head to the side, “Let me get you a cool cloth for your face, at least.”

“I…” he sniffles, then nods, “Yeah, that… that’d probably be a good idea. Blood and darkness, I think I’m getting a headache from all that crying…”

Thanatos teleports from the room, only to return a moment later with two cool washcloths. The first, he uses to clean the tears and snot from Zagreus’ face—he is careful to keep his touch light, despite the fact that he is Zagreus’ face doesn’t feel particularly sensitive. Once his face is clean, he guides Zagreus to lay back down onto the bed, and drapes the second washcloth over his eyes. Zagreus shudders when lips ghost over his cloth-covered eyelids.

Than settles in alongside him, pressing their bodies taut against one another. His skin feels cool against Zagreus’ own blisteringly hot flesh—a welcome, soothing relief. “How did you manage to stave off your orgasm for so long?”

The elder seems to consider this for a moment, before flushing, “I… simply wanted to see to your pleasure first, that’s all.” He blinks, “I… didn’t realize that I’d gotten you quite so worked up. Are you sure that you’re alright? You can tell me if—,”

Zagreus cuts him off before he can travel down that particular path of self-loathing, “It was a lot.” He concedes, “But I would’ve asked you to stop if I didn’t like it, okay?” He exhales slowly, “It’s just… gonna take me a little while to come back down from that. But I did like it.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then, “…Okay.” Than noses at the column of his neck, hiding his face away.

“Besides… if I’m not mistaken, I think you liked having a sobbing mess of hypersensitivity writhing underneath you.” Zagreus teases. He doesn’t need to be able to see to know that Thanatos is blushing.

“Shut up, Zag.” He eases the sting of his words with a soft kiss to the curve of his jaw, “I love you.”

Zagreus’ answering smile is brighter than Helios’ chariot. “Love you, too.”