Chapter Eight #2
“The trick is knowing your partner,” Ainder continued. “I prefer fast and rough. Don’t suck with your tongue, suck with your throat. It makes a difference.”
Ethyr obeyed and Ainder gave his first indication of affect, leaning his head back with a huff.
“Ah, fuck. He’s a quick study.”
Ethyr didn’t know why that pleased him so much. He continued with more determination and Ainder moaned.
“Gallus, you’d better take over,” he groaned, pulling himself out. Ethyr looked up at him, surprised and a little hurt. “I don’t want to ruin his beautiful mouth.”
Gallus pouted, though he obeyed Ainder’s beckoning. “What about my beautiful mouth?”
Ainder smirked, gripping his chin and running a thumb over his lips. “Yours I love to ruin.”
Gallus’s pout spread to a saucy grin. He took Ethyr’s place and set to work with fervor. Ainder gripped his hair and forced him faster still, watching with hungry eyes and a bit lip.
“It’s my turn,” Catocus said, coming up beside Ethyr. “And I will gladly ruin your mouth,” he added with a smirk. Ethyr blinked up at him. Catocus was the only one beside Kiaro wearing something semi-normal: a tunic with a leather belt, though he wore the same high-laced sandals as the others.
“Go ahead,” Catocus ordered, already breathless. “Service me.” Ethyr swallowed and raised to his knees to be waist-level with the god, reaching under his tunic. He wasn’t erect. Ethyr took his hand back to spit in his palm and returned with lubrication to remedy the problem.
“Ah, see?” Catocus laughed. “He’s not completely ignorant.”
Ethyr's face warmed, but he didn’t stop. When Catocus was hard, he pushed up his tunic.
The sharp fangs of a snake lunged at him. Ethyr tumbled back with a shout, landing on his palms with a painful jolt.
Catocus’s confusion lasted barely a second before his eyes whipped to the other side of the room. “Kiaro!” he barked.
Ethyr glanced over at the god. He sat forward with his arms resting on his knees, watching the scene with cool indifference. At Catocus’s accusation, the side of his mouth tilted and he chuckled quietly. Ethyr's chest squeezed.
“Got a problem?” Catocus snarled, stepping forward.
“Maybe the kid doesn’t want to suck your wrinkly cock,” Kiaro replied. Catocus narrowed his eyes.
“Why, you want him to suck yours?” Catocus gripped Ethyr’s arm, pulling him to his feet, and he stumbled as Catocus dragged him over.
“Catocus,” Gnaeus said sharply. “Calm down.”
He pushed Ethyr to his knees in front of Kiaro. “Go ahead, Ethyr, suck him dry, if he can even get hard.”
Kiaro lifted his chin, staring coldly at Catocus. Ethyr looked between them, heart in his throat. He was pretty sure he didn’t want to be in the middle of two angry gods fighting.
“Well?” Catocus prompted, the force in his tone raising Ethyr’s hair.
He looked back to Kiaro. The god’s dark eyes flicked down to meet his but he couldn’t read anything behind them.
He reached out with a trembling hand, resting it on one of the navy-clad thighs.
Kiaro didn’t move or protest. Ethyr could feel the silent tension in the room behind him. This was no longer entertainment.
Ethyr slid his hand up further, running over the smooth fabric of the god’s pants. When he was nearly to his crotch, Kiaro grabbed his wrist. He froze, terrified. For a long, heart-choking moment, Kiaro stared at him. Then his unreadable gaze slid to Catocus.
“Don’t push me, Cadoc,” he said quietly.
“I’m not scared of you,” Catocus said. It wasn’t a statement, it was a reminder.
“And yet,” Kiaro said, voice low but dangerously sharp, “you did not have the strength to do what I did.”
Catocus stiffened, and the threat between their expressions pinned Ethyr in place.
“Ethyr,” Gnaeus called, a thread of concern in her voice that wasn’t there before. He glanced over at her, holding her arms out imploringly. He didn’t dare fight Kiaro’s grip.
After another few seconds that felt like hours, Kiaro released him. “Go,” he said quietly.
Ethyr scrambled up and over to Gnaeus, sinking gladly into her arms. She hugged him tight, caressing his hair. Varuut reached over to rub his back.
“You two are cruel,” Gnaeus reprimanded over his head. “Take your disagreements out between yourselves. Don’t involve a poor mortal.”
Catocus scoffed. He turned and stormed out the door. Ethyr stared. It hadn’t occurred to him that there was a tangible world outside of this room.
“Ignore them,” Gnaeus said softly. He looked at her round face and sweet, comforting smile. “It’s nothing you did.” Ethyr knew that, yet couldn’t help but feel responsible.
“You ruin everything,” Ainder complained to Kiaro before standing with a sigh, stretching his arms and wandering back to the table to start eating.
Kiaro turned, swinging his legs up onto the seat and ignoring them all again.
“Come here,” Varuut said, pulling Ethyr from Gnaeus’s lap to sit between them.
She gave him a goblet of wine and set to work fixing his disheveled hair.
Varuut and Gnaeus doted over him for the rest of the night, until he fell asleep again on Gnaeus’s lap.
There was no question she was the god of hearth and health, the way she exuded calm compassion.
But unease never truly left the pit of his stomach.