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Summary:

Twisting hallways. Silken thread between fingers. A hulking figure crouched in the darkness. Bodies clashing, twisting, tangling together in sweat and blood. Panting against exhaustion, hands tightening around a throat, victory so close on the horizon…

Suddenly, a tug on his hair. Strong hands gripping him, hauling him, pinning him down. The cold press of stone against his cheek. Hot breath on his neck, and low words in his ear:

“It looks like you’re at my mercy, Prince…”

Theseus struggles to come to terms with a fantasy he's been having about Asterius. Thankfully, with help from some unexpected confidants and a healthy dose of communication, he learns that his desires may not be as dark as he initially thought...

Notes:

This is my submission for the Hades Big Bang! My partner is the extraordinarily talented Lykostherium, who drew the most STUNNING art for this fic (which I'll also be embedding in Chapter 2). I was so lucky to be partnered with her! Please check out the rest of her work; her stuff is seriously incredible.

I had intended to have this entire fic finished by today, but health issues and work problems unfortunately put me behind schedule. A huge thanks to Lykostherium and the Big Bang mods for accommodating me, and to my girlfriend for supporting me through my struggles. (She wrote a Patrochilles reincarnation fic for the Big Bang and it's so, so beautiful; I can't recommend it enough.)

This fic was initially inspired by this art by LunarOutlaw (you'll have to click through privatter to see the full piece), and was originally just going to be a short smutty scene, but then it took on a life of its own. Chapter 2 should be up in a few days; in the meantime, please enjoy! :)

Chapter Text

Twisting hallways. Silken thread between fingers. A hulking figure crouched in the darkness. Bodies clashing, twisting, tangling together in sweat and blood. Panting against exhaustion, hands tightening around a throat, victory so close on the horizon…

Suddenly, a tug on his hair. Strong hands gripping him, hauling him, pinning him down. The cold press of stone against his cheek. Hot breath on his neck, and low words in his ear:

“It looks like you’re at my mercy, Prince…”

The cold floor of the Labyrinth is replaced by the warm embrace of a soft bed as Theseus wakes from his dream. He can still feel hot breath on his neck, and it takes him a few sleep-drunk moments to realize that it isn’t a remnant of his dream, but Asterius, who is pressed up against Theseus’s back, still asleep.

It takes Theseus another few moments to realize that he’s hard. He stirs, pressing his thighs together, and bites his lip against a moan. “Hard” might be a bit of an understatement…

He tries his best to stay still, lest he wake Asterius, but he can’t help but shift his thighs together, desperate for the slightest bit of relief. Theseus has awoken to find himself hard many times before, but he doesn’t remember the last time it was so intense…

Despite Theseus’s best efforts, he soon feels his companion stir behind him. Asterius sighs against Theseus’s neck, which does nothing to alleviate the pressure between his legs.

“What has you so lively, king?” Asterius’s words are soft and fond as he wraps his arms around Theseus’s torso.

Theseus places a hand over Asterius’s where it sits on his stomach. “No reason, my love.” He hopes his words are convincing as he tries to keep his desire from coloring his voice. “Go back to sleep.”

Alas, Theseus’s beloved can decipher his cadence with ease, and Asterius’s large hand snakes its way down between Theseus’s legs. This time Theseus can’t help but gasp as Asterius’s fingers brush against his cock.

Theseus feels Asterius’s chuckle as much as he hears it; deep vibrations that pass through his skin to settle deep inside. “Nothing, indeed...”

Theseus whimpers, his hips moving of their own accord. Asterius chuckles again and presses his snout against the curve of Theseus’s neck.

“I take it you slept well, king?” The teasing lilt in Asterius’s voice might go unnoticed by most, but it sends shivers across Theseus’s skin.

“Yes, but- ah -you needn’t bother…”

Asterius removes his hand from Theseus’s cock to stroke against Theseus’s hip instead. He nuzzles against Theseus’s hair; his version of a kiss. “Do you not seek release?”

This time his words hold no jest. Since the first time they coupled, Asterius has proven himself time and time again to be the most considerate lover Theseus has ever had the privilege of bedding. Any hint of displeasure or protestation from Theseus, and Asterius halts everything instantly. It warms Theseus’s heart every time, and now is no exception. He swallows, and allows his legs to fall open.

“If… you would like…”

Asterius’s hand is back on him in an instant, wrenching a cry from Theseus. He presses his face into the pillows, moaning as relief finally floods his body. Asterius knows just how to touch him; the perfect pace, pressure, technique… it isn’t long before Theseus is twisting in Asterius’s hold, whimpering and writhing as he chases release.

Asterius simply holds Theseus as he works his cock, strong arms keeping Theseus in a tight embrace. That firm grip, coupled with Asterius’s soft breathing against his skin, has Theseus flashing back to his dream: pinned down, unable to move, at the mercy of his captor…

Theseus forces the thoughts to the back of his mind, even as they bring him closer to the edge of climax. A few more pumps of Asterius’s wrist and Theseus is spilling between his fingers, crying out and trying not to think about how it would feel to be pinned underneath him.


Once they finally rise and make their way to the arena, Theseus has managed to put his dream aside enough to focus on his and Asterius’s daily (nightly?) sparring session.

It begins as usual, the two of them trading blows and sharing praise, every once in a while offering each other suggestions to improve their form. Even after all this time, Theseus still feels a thrill whenever he and Asterius face against one another, their skills perfectly matched.

Theseus lunges forward, aiming for Asterius’s thigh, but in his haste he leaves his right side unguarded. Anyone else would have missed the opening, but Asterius knows Theseus’s technique as well as his own, and seizes the opportunity. Theseus’s feet are knocked out from under him, and he lands on his front. The weight of Asterius settles over him, and when large fingers reach down to pin Theseus’s spear hand above his head, Theseus is suddenly back in the darkness of the Labyrinth:

Sweat beads on his skin as he writhes, desperate to free himself from the Minotaur’s tight grip. A wet tongue slides against his neck, and fingers twist painfully in his hair. A muscular knee slots itself between his thighs, and his legs are pushed apart...

“I yield!” Theseus throws out his free arm to slap his palm thrice against the floor of the arena. Asterius is off of him in an instant.

“Are you well, King?”

Theseus remains on the ground. He doesn’t turn to face Asterius while he catches his breath.

“Yes, dear Asterius. I… I am well…”

“Are you injured? Did I harm you in some way?”

“Far from it! If you would just - ah - allow me a moment to… compose myself…”

“Of course.” Asterius’s voice is tight with concern, and Theseus can hear his tail swish anxiously.

Theseus breathes deeply, willing his body to relax. He keeps his hips as still as possible, wanting nothing to exacerbate the stirrings of desire between his legs. After a few moments he dares to move, and sighs in relief when he finds his cock soft.

“There!” He rises to his feet, legs only shaking slightly. “Right as rain, my friend! ‘Twas merely a… cramp!”

Asterius snorts softly, reaching out a hand to steady Theseus, who can’t help but relax under his touch. “I am glad. Did you wish to continue with our bout?”

“Ah,” Theseus shuffles his feet, suddenly hyper aware of Asterius's hand on his shoulder. “I believe that is enough sparring for today. I wish to retire to the baths, if you will join me?”

Asterius smooths his hand down Theseus's arm, and Theseus closes his eyes against the shiver that runs through his body. “As you wish, King.”


The day (night?) ends as so many do, with the two Champions wrapped in each others’ arms, bodies pressed together tightly after licking the taste of ambrosia from each others’ lips.

Theseus is on all fours with Asterius’s hands on his waist, moaning as Asterius’s hips slam against his ass over and over and over…

As his pleasure builds, Theseus does his best to stay grounded in the moment. He focuses on the feeling of Asterius’s claws digging into his skin, of the silken sheets under his knees, of the glorious cock pounding into him with abandon...

But then Asterius lifts Theseus’s hips, causing Theseus’s torso to fall to the bed, and the unbidden darkness of the Labyrinth envelops his mind...

His hands bound in front of him, massive fingers gripping his hips as he’s fucked into from behind. His throat raw from screaming even as he can’t help but fuck back onto the massive cock inside of him.

The Minotaur groans in his ear, his rumbling voice breathy with exertion. “If Athens could see its Prince now…”

Theseus presses his face into the cushions to stifle the scream that his climax wrings out of him. It seems to go on forever, and all he can do is lie there, twitching and shivering as Asterius fucks him through it. Asterius finishes a few moments later, spilling his release into Theseus with a deep groan, and Theseus whimpers at the feeling of Asterius’s seed falling down his thighs.

Asterius only takes a few moments to compose himself before pulling out and resting beside Theseus, stroking the king’s hair from his flushed face. It is then that he notices that Theseus continues to shiver, eyes shut tight and hands fisted in the sheets.

“King?” Asterius’s voice is so, so soft. “Is everything all right?”

Theseus doesn’t answer, his trembling increasing and tears beginning to leak from behind his closed eyelids.

“Theseus…”

Strong arms wrap around Theseus to hold him close, and the dam breaks. Theseus weeps into his companion’s chest, hands scrambling for purchase against Asterius’s broad back. Asterius says nothing, just holds him tight, his hands soothing across Theseus’s skin and over his hair.

The gentle touches only make Theseus weep more.

But Asterius doesn’t let go, and eventually Theseus calms, his caught breaths evening out. Only when his eyes are dry once more does he extricate himself from Asterius’s embrace.

“I… I must beg your forgiveness, Asterius, I know not what has come over me…”

Asterius reaches out to stroke the side of Theseus’s face, who presses into the touch. “I only wish to know what brought you such distress, King.”

“It… it is nothing, my beloved, I…” Theseus swallows as he searches for an explanation. “I merely find myself… overwhelmed by your passion…”

To Theseus’s horror Asterius pulls away, eyes widening in concern. “Did I harm you?”

“No!” Theseus rushes forward to take Asterius’s face in his hands. “No, no, Asterius, you did nothing wrong!” He presses fervent kisses against his lover's jaw, cheek, snout. “You are the most gentle, considerate, adept lover to ever grace my bed! I…”

Theseus presses his face into Asterius’s neck, choosing his next words carefully. “Sometimes… sometimes the pleasure is… simply too much! Yes, my spectral body cannot handle the intensity of your prowess, the magnificence of your form! I am as a mortal kneeling before the true visage of a god, unable to withstand their divine glory!

Asterius’s ears twitch. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and Theseus’s stomach drops in apprehension, but he eventually breaks the silence.

“You’re certain you are well? Do you require anything?”

Despite not needing sleep, Theseus is suddenly very tired. He rests his head on Asterius’s shoulder and shuts his eyes. “Just… hold me?”

In an instant Theseus is enveloped in the warm embrace of his beloved. “Of course, King.”


Time passes, and Theseus does his best to contain the dark desires that linger in the recesses of his mind. He avoids sleep, and while he doesn’t require it in the way he did when he was alive, the lack of rest puts him in a sour mood. He is reluctant to let Asterius touch him, which he knows makes Asterius worry, but whenever those great hands grasp his shoulder or reach for his hand, all Theseus can think about is being held down by them, his legs forced apart, completely overpowered by the terrible, magnificent creature who uses him like a toy…

The spear Theseus is holding threatens to snap in his iron-tight grip. He narrowly avoids one of the daemon’s strikes, and his next attack is sloppy, easily parried by the daemon’s infernal sword.

“I must say, Theseus, you really aren’t on your game today. Been hitting the Ambrosia a little hard?”

Theseus practically growls in frustration. “Quell your blabbering, blackguard!”

The daemon merely chuckles, and swings his sword for another attack. Theseus moves to block it with his shield, but realizes too late that it was a feint, and grits his teeth, waiting for the sharp metal to meet his flesh…

Asterius’s axe appears like a boon from the gods, blocking the daemon’s attack. With a mighty thrust he brings the axe up, knocking away the sword and causing the daemon to stagger.

“Nice block there, Asterius! Good to see one of you is actually putting in some effort.”

Asterius ignores him, glancing instead at Theseus. The look he gives Theseus is wordless, but Theseus understands his meaning: What is going on?

Theseus focuses his attention back to the daemon, all of his rage and frustration centering on the hellspawn in front of him. “I will send you back to the pit from whence you came!”

The daemon grins. “Go ahead and try.”

Theseus sprints forward, spear pointed at the daemon, as he channels his rage to call down the god of war.

“Lord Ares, give me your power!”

It doesn’t come. Shrouded within his cloud of confusion and anger and shame, his mind is unable to reach the gods.

The last thing he hears before he is cut down is Asterius calling his name.


“Welcome to the House of Hades!”

The waters of the Styx drip off of Theseus’s garments in rivulets, trickling onto the petal-strewn floor before dissipating. Theseus makes a show of crushing the blossoms beneath his sandals as he rises from the pool.

“Oh hey, it’s you! Long time no see, Champion.” The grating voice of the greeter assaults Theseus’s ears like nails on slate. “Wasn’t expecting to see you. You and the Minotaur were on something of a winning streak, yeah? Guess Zag finally got you. Ah, well, all streaks gotta end sometime, right?”

“Cease your talking!” Theseus faces the pallid figure with his most vitriolic stare. “You babble more than the blackguard!”

“Wowee, someone’s touchy! Moreso than usual.” The greeter twirls his quill between slender fingers. “Losing hit you that hard? Or are you still wound up from those dreams you’ve been having?

“... What?”

“You know, those dreams that have been getting you all hot and bothered lately! The ones about the Minotaur? Where you’re in a dark room… is it the Labyrinth? You’re fighting each other, but then the Minotaur… Whoa, there!”

Theseus has his hands fisted in the greeter’s red robes, lifting him upright.

“You… how… how do you know this?”

“Wow, you’re strong! Now I know why Zagreus loses to you so much...”

“Tell me!” Theseus shakes the greeter roughly, causing his curly head to snap back and forth. “What witchcraft is this? How have you been privy to my most private shame?”

"Shame? I don’t know what you’re so upset about!” The greeter’s voice is infuriatingly calm even as he is jostled about. “Seems like you were enjoying yourse-”

The greeter’s words are cut off as Theseus’s hands wrap around his throat.

“King!”

Theseus!

Theseus freezes mid-choke, unsure of where to look when the voices of Asterius and Hades both reach his ears.

“What are you doing?!”

“Unhand him at once!”

The greeter gives a feeble wave to Theseus, who hurriedly releases his victim. The greeter gives his throat a brief massage but otherwise seems unfazed. Theseus, on the other hand, can barely focus, the greeter’s words still ringing in his head.

Are you still wound up from those dreams you’ve been having?

“Step forward, Champion.”

Theseus starts when a hand places itself on his elbow, but it is only Asterius, guiding him forward. Theseus allows himself to be led to Hades’s desk, where he and Asterius take a knee before the Lord of the Underworld.

Hades doesn’t raise his head when he addresses Theseus, keeping his eyes on his paperwork. “Care to explain why you felt the need to throttle my greeter?”

Asterius stands up before Theseus can even think of how to respond. “Lord Hades, allow me to apologize for the King’s behavior. He has been troubled as of late, and…”

“I did not ask you, bull.”

The sharp words directed at Asterius call Theseus to action. “Asterius is correct, Lord Hades.” Theseus rises to his feet to address Hades himself. “It is true that I have been… unwell… recently, and I allowed myself to take my frustrations out on…” He pauses, realizing that he doesn’t know the name of the irksome employee.

“Hypnos.”

“Hypnos, yes. I allowed myself to take my frustration out on…”

… Hypnos?

Asterius’s elbow nudges his side, and Theseus clears his throat.

“There is no excuse for my behavior, Lord Hades.” Theseus falls to his knees again, prostrating himself before the god of the dead. “I can only beg for your forgiveness, and I accept any punishment that you deem fit.”

For a few harrowing moments all Theseus can hear is the scratch of Hades’s quill.

“This kind of behavior is enough to earn one an eternity in Tartarus.” Theseus hears Asterius inhale sharply beside him. “However,” Hades pauses to dip his quill in ink. “Since you have proven most useful in delaying the escape attempts of my errant son, consider this your first and only warning.” He finally raises his head to look at Theseus directly. "I will allow you to return to Elysium on the condition that nothing like this ever happens again.”

Theseus releases the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Thank you, Lord Hades.”

Hades huffs, and turns his attention back to his work. “Begone.”

Asterius immediately grasps Theseus, guiding him out of the throne room and into the shadowy garden. Once they are under the pomegranate trees, Asterius stops and spins Theseus to face him.

“What happened back there, King?” Theseus cringes at the worry in Asterius’s voice. He almost wishes Asterius were angry with him. It would match the anger he feels at himself.

“It is none of your concern, Asterius.” Theseus tries to move toward where Charon’s boat waits for them, but Asterius grabs his hand.

“Please, King, I know you are troubled.” He laces their fingers together, and Theseus wants to weep. “You’ve been trying to hide it, but I see that something is wrong.”

Theseus ducks his head. He can’t look Asterius in the eye. “Just leave it be.”

“If there is anything I can…”

“Please!” Theseus reaches out desperately, hands twisting in the fabric of Asterius’s chiton. He stands there, breathing heavily, holding onto Asterius and willing himself not to collapse in tears. “Please, Asterius. Can… can we just return to Elysium?”

Asterius sighs deeply, and Theseus knows he is frustrated. But his arms still wrap around Theseus, and he still holds him close, and his hands still stroke his hair.

“Very well.”


It is not long before Theseus returns to the House, this time of his own accord.

“Welcome to the House of- Well, look who’s back! Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again so soon. Did Zagreus get the best of you again? Let’s see… ‘Cause of death: Self-inflicted spear wound?’ Aw, that’s rough, buddy. What happened, you fall on it during training or something? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen…

“Enough!” Theseus forces himself to stand tall, chin high and shoulders square. “I wish to speak with you, Hypnos.

“You went to all that effort just to see me? Aw… Listen, I’m flattered, but I gotta be honest, you’re not really my type…”

Theseus blinks. “What? No! No, no, I didn’t come here to… no!” This isn’t going how he planned at all. He clears his throat and straightens up once more. “I wish to discuss what was said during our last encounter.”

“Water under the bridge!” Hypnos waves a delicate hand. “You’d be surprised how often I get attacked by newly-arrived souls; at this point it’s like water off a duck’s…”

“You said you could see into my dreams.”

Hypnos’s eyes widen ever so slightly. “Is that what this is about? I told you last time, I don’t know what you’re so ashamed of. It seems like a nice enough-”

“Shush!” Theseus looks around wildly, checking to see if any of the nearby shades are within earshot. “Having you privy to my most private desires is torturous enough, I do not wish for others to know, as well!”

“Ah, so you admit that it’s something you desire?”

“I… that…” Any dignity Theseus managed to bring to this encounter is diminishing rapidly. “That is beside the point! I came here to ask you a simple question.”

Hypnos cocks his head. “Really? Well, ask away then.”

Theseus inhales. “Are you the Hypnos, the god of sleep?”

“Mmm…” Hypnos rests his chin in his hand and directs his gaze upward, as though lost in thought. “I mean, I'm not so much the god of sleep so much as I am Sleep. Like how Than is Death and Mom is Night, yeah?”

“You… are the son of Lady Nyx?”

“Yup!”

Theseus sways slightly on his feet before dropping to one knee and bowing his head. “Please forgive my disrespect, Lord Hypnos! Had I known of your status sooner…”

“Whoa, hey, there’s no need for any of that!” Hypnos waves him upright. “It ruins the camaraderie we’ve got going, wouldn’t you say?”

Theseus chooses his next words very carefully. “Lord Hypnos… if you have dominion over dreams… do you have the power to make them stop?”

Hypnos frowns. “Make them stop? Why? I don’t remember you having any nightmares recently…”

“I mean the dream where…” Theseus takes a deep breath. “The dream we discussed… the one in the Labyrinth?”

“Oh!” Hypnos snaps his fingers. “The sexy one! Yeah, that one’s been stressing you out, huh? Why is that?”

“It is of no importance. I ask you again: are you able to make these dreams stop?”

“I mean, I guess I could.” Hypnos’s brow furrows in confusion. “But why? You’re clearly enjoying them.”

“You’re mistaken. I want nothing more than to be rid of them.”

Hypnos chuckles. “Well, your subconscious certainly says otherwise…”

“Please!” Theseus falls to his knees and grabs the hem of Hypnos’s robe, and for the first time Hypnos looks disturbed.

“Oh, hey, there's no need for that…”

“Please, Lord Hypnos, I beg you, release me from these… these disgusting desires.” Theseus’s voice breaks, but he doesn’t care. “I cannot bear the shame any longer… Please…”

Hypnos watches him with unblinking eyes, then reaches down to place a comforting hand on Theseus’s head. “Tell you what…” His fingertips find Theseus’s chin and tilt it up, forcing Theseus to make eye contact with the god’s sleepy gaze. “I’ll make them stop… If you do me a favor first."

Theseus nods desperately. “Anything.”

The grin that Hypnos gives Theseus is the widest that Theseus has ever seen the god give.

“You know the Fury Megaera?”