Chapter Five

Anthos stood, alone and tall and terrible, fists clenched as he watched his brother flee. The golden ichor stained the tips of his antlers, divine wrath radiating from him like heat from the sun. Here stood a mighty, terrible god, as strong as Dryas had ever been and more. The hymn was over, the glade quiet and still as all eyes fixed on Anthos. Even Cleon’s breath froze in his throat at the sight of his once-frail lover.

There had always been hints of it, this wild power at the heart of Anthos. Cleon had felt it when they made love, when nature bent to that sweet and gentle will, but now it was on full, awe-inspiring display. Anthos’ will was iron now, his antlers bronze-tipped spears and his eyes blazing with fire. Those tiny fists could surely shatter bone, and one strike of his hoof had brought mighty Dryas to his knees.

In that long, silent moment, even Cleon was afraid.

Then Anthos opened his hands, took a deep breath and the terror fell away. Soft velvet grew back over the tips of his antlers, and the tension bled from his shoulders. His height never changed, but he still seemed to shrink, returning to the small, cute, gentle form Cleon had always known.

“Cleon!” Anthos cried, turning on his heel and sprinting toward him. His eyes were wide with panic as he knelt, hands reaching for Cleon. “Cleon, please don’t die!”

“Not gonna die,” Cleon said with a lopsided smile. “I’ve got at least a few years left in me yet.”

“Good,” Anthos said, eyes sparkling with tears. “You…thank you. Your faith, your strength…”

“Thank you for saving my life,” Cleon said, smiling through his own tears of pain. He reached up with his good right hand, stroking Anthos’ cheek. “You were magnificent.”

Anthos leaned forward to kiss him and Cleon moved to accept it, before gasping and recoiling in sudden pain, struggling to readjust his throbbing shoulder, using his good arm to hold his bad one to his chest.

“He hurt you,” Anthos whispered. He reached out a hand to trail gentle fingers over Cleon’s skin, and his touch was as soothing as cool water.

“I’ll probably be fine,” Cleon assured him. “I think I broke something, but it should heal.”

He hoped it would heal, at least. Any shepherd knew how to set a broken bone as long as the break was clean. If it wasn’t, then Cleon could look forward to a lifetime of deformity and pain.

Anthos must have seen the worry on Cleon’s face, because his own twisted in fear and sorrow. He bowed his head for a moment, swallowing hard, before he raised it once more. His eyes glinted with that strange certainty he sometimes got, that deep, divine truth, and he leaned forward to gently kiss the rapidly bruising skin. Cleon sighed as the throbbing eased a little more, enough for him to blink away his tears.

“I’ve got you, love,” Anthos whispered, carefully scooping Cleon into his arms. The god held him easily, in spite of his small frame, then turned to the crowd of watching mortals who were all kneeling and looking up at him in awe.

“Thank you, my people,” Anthos said, voice clear and confident. “Thank you all for your faith in me. I promise to return it, to give you my bounty and see to your needs, as long as this forest stands.”

He inclined his antlered head to his subjects, and every one of them bowed back, showing homage to their true lord. Anthos had protected them, fought for them, saved them from Dryas. He was kind and gentle, noble and generous, and they would serve him as long as they drew breath.

Slowly, carefully, Anthos carried Cleon up the steps to his little nook, fireflies emerging from the trees to follow them. He laid Cleon on the soft green moss under the glinting lights, kissing him gently on the forehead. The vine curtains fell shut, shielding them from view, and Cleon smiled up at him. Anthos had grown so much in the last months, from a frightened boy into a true man, a true god.

“You really did it,” he said. “You saved us. I’m so proud of you, Anthos.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Anthos replied, beaming. “You’re…you’re everything. I love you so much.”

“Me too,” Cleon said. If only his shoulder would stop throbbing with pain, it would be perfect. Unfortunately, the effects of the kiss were fading, and the ache was rearing its ugly head once more.

“I need to heal you,” Anthos said, “give you some of my essence.”

“I don’t think I can suck you right now,” Cleon admitted. The thought of moving his neck or head made him wince, and even if Anthos did all the work, it would probably still jostle something.

“That…yes, that makes sense,” Anthos said. He frowned down at Cleon for a moment, clearly thinking. “Hold your arm like it’s in a sling.”

Cleon obeyed, and a few moments later, soft vines twined their way up his side to gently wrap around his arm and shoulders. They bound him, not tight enough to hurt but enough to keep him from moving in an uncomfortable way. Cleon let out a little sigh as a bit of the pain eased, some of the tension slipping away.

He allowed himself to relax, trusting the vines to hold him steady, and the next moment gentle hands were on him. Anthos slowly rolled Cleon onto his right side, bad shoulder up, and the mossy floor rose like a pillow to cushion his head. When Anthos was satisfied, he lay down behind Cleon, cuddling up to spoon him.

“Is this all right?” Anthos asked softly, pressing a kiss to the back of Cleon’s shoulder. The pain faded a little more, enough for him to nod.

“Yes,” Cleon whispered.

“Do you trust me?” Anthos asked.

“Always,” Cleon replied.

Anthos pressed another kiss to Cleon’s shoulder blade, lapping his soft tongue over sweat-soaked skin. Cleon sighed a little, relaxing into the sensation, the feeling of his god taking care of him. The ache dulled even more, letting him focus on the hardening cock pressed up against his back.

Cleon knew what was coming, expected the slick, warm finger sliding between his cheeks to rub against his hole. He didn’t ask where the fluid came from, didn’t worry about his lover’s inexperience. He trusted Anthos fully and completely, knowing it would be all right.

And it was all right—better than all right. The soft, gentle pressure made Cleon moan, Anthos teasing him for long moments before pushing in to the first knuckle, then the second. Cleon hadn’t had anything inside him for many months, but it didn’t matter. His body opened up for Anthos like a flower to the sun, welcoming the god inside like he belonged there.

“Is this good?” Anthos asked, working his finger slowly into Cleon.

“Yes,” Cleon breathed. He didn’t dare move his hips back into the stimulation, but his cock started to rise anyway. “You can…you can give me more.”

Anthos kissed his Cleon’s shoulder again and obeyed. Two fingers slipped into Cleon, then three, meeting no resistance at all. Cleon knew he didn’t need this, could have taken that huge cock raw with no problem, but it felt good to have Anthos taking care of him. The touches were so gentle, so sweet, so very like his god.

And his god knew exactly what to do. He moved and twisted his fingers like he’d done this a thousand times, brushing lightly over Cleon’s sweet spot. It was gentle, teasing, not enough to make Cleon buck his hips but enough to make him feel it.

“Are you ready for me?” Anthos whispered against Cleon’s skin. “Are you ready for me inside you?”

“Yes,” Cleon said. “I…I want you, Anthos.”

Anthos kissed his shoulder one last time before moving to line himself up. His cockhead, thick and hot, slip-slid against Cleon’s hole. The blunt tip teased him, slick with precum and so big it should’ve scared him, but Cleon felt only desire.

Then he was being breached, opened, the thick head stretching him wide. Cleon moaned deep in his throat, and Anthos let out a matching sound. A small, gentle hand closed around Cleon’s hip, holding him steady as that huge cock slid in with torturous slowness.

“I…oh,” Cleon moaned, eyes squeezing shut as he was filled and filled and filled. “Oh, Anthos, it…it feels…”

He was lost for words. His mind was consumed with pleasure, completely eclipsing the pain of his injury, blotting out everything else. There was nothing in the world but Anthos, the cock in his ass and the warmth against his back.

“You feel so good, Cleon,” Anthos moaned, hips still pushing forward as he filled Cleon up. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you for so long…”

“Me too,” Cleon gasped. “I always wanted—but I was scared.”

“So was I,” Anthos said. “I never, ever want to hurt you.”

Cleon wanted to smile, but he was too busy panting with need. He’d never felt so full, and there was still so much left to go. The thick, blunt cockhead had already skimmed over his sweet spot, but Anthos’ sheer size kept up a constant pressure that made him see stars. Every moment there was more, and more, and—

“Aaaaaah!” Cleon cried, unable to keep himself from spasming. Pain flared in his shoulder, but it was a small, distant thing compared to the feeling inside him. Anthos’ cock had slipped through some deep, hidden tightness Cleon had never known existed, filling him with a rush of pure want.

“How do you feel?” Anthos asked, pausing. He soothed one hand over Cleon’s flank. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” Cleon breathed. “It…it’s good, so good!”

“You feel good too,” Anthos said. “You always feel so good.”

He began to move again, filling Cleon even more. It was huge, incredible, impossible. He thought he might die of it, the glorious fullness and the heat so deep inside, when Anthos finally stopped. His furry thighs were pressed up against Cleon’s ass and his breath was hot against Cleon’s back.

“Tell me…” Anthos gasped. “Tell me when you want me to move.”

Cleon bit his lip, fighting for some vestige of control or sanity. His breath rasped hard in his lungs, untouched cock twitching and wet with pre-cum.

“M-move…” he gasped. “Just…just be gentle?”

Anthos nodded, pressing a kiss to Cleon’s spine. He withdrew slowly, gently, until the head had just passed that tight ring of muscle, then pushed back in. It was perfect, Anthos knowing exactly where to stop, exactly how to move to drive Cleon mad. He rolled his hips, gently rocking back and forth, both their voices rising in a chorus of moans.

It was perfect, as perfect as it always was. Their bodies fit together every time, in every configuration, matching pieces of the same puzzle. Anthos was so deep inside that Cleon imagined he could feel him pressing against his very soul.

“M-more,” he gasped, body limp with pleasure, unable to do anything but feel, and moaned when Anthos obeyed.

He was still gentle, still careful, but he sped up his thrusts in a glorious way. He shouldn’t have had the leverage for it, spooning Cleon and not moving him an inch, but Cleon had learned not to question such things. All that mattered was the stretch, the heat, the rhythm of their coupling. The small, soft hand, reaching down to grip his cock.

“I’m…” Anthos moaned. “I’m going to come…”

“Please,” Cleon groaned. The hand on his cock was moving now, the god stroking him toward climax, and he didn’t feel the need to hold back.

They came together, moans filling their little shelter as their bodies shuddered in release. Cleon’s white seed spilled across the verdant moss, while Anthos pumped him full of thick, hot cum. The load was more than Cleon had ever taken, more than the hunters had both given his god. He felt full, so full, sated and happy and whole.

“Amazing,” Anthos whispered against his back, and Cleon chuckled.

“You’re amazing,” Cleon said. He reached up to touch his injured shoulder, and felt no pain at all. He rolled it a little, then a little more, and grinned. “I don’t think I need the sling anymore.”

Anthos nuzzled against Cleon’s back, kissing the skin as he slowly pulled out. Cleon gasped at the emptiness, the loss of his lover, but at least he still had that hot cum filling him up. He contented himself with that as Anthos kissed his way up Cleon’s back, finally pressing his lips to the vines that bound his arm, making them fall away.

Cleon instantly rolled over, catching up his god and pressing him down against the moss. Anthos giggled, wrapping his arms around Cleon’s neck and pressing their lips together. He was already half-hard again, his god’s power flowing through him, and he ground against that flat stomach to demonstrate.

“Not enough for you, love?” Anthos asked, smiling up at him.

“Never,” Cleon said, smiling back. “Besides, I want to see your face when you come in me.”

“Oh,” Anthos gasped, then smiled slowly. His eyes went dark with desire as he cupped Cleon’s ass, and he rolled his hips in a delightful way. “I want to see that too, watch you take me. I…I bet you look good on my cock.”

“Let’s find out,” Cleon said, leaning down to kiss Anthos and tilting his hips up. Anthos gripped his own cock and rubbed the head over Cleon’s hole, dragging it slowly through the slick white seed, the remains of their first coupling. He pressed the blunt tip against the opening, stretching it around the thick head and holding it there.

“So…” Anthos panted against Cleon’s mouth. “So wet…”

“Mmmmm…” Cleon hummed in agreement. “See why I like taking you after?”

“Yes,” Anthos gasped. “I want to take you after, too. I want the pilgrims and travelers to take you while I watch, then fuck their cum deeper into you.”

Cleon cursed against Anthos’ lips and shoved his hips back to take Anthos deep. They both cried out at the sudden penetration, and once Cleon felt it, he didn’t want to stop. He leaned back, taking that huge cock inside him with no trouble at all—in and in and in, until he was straddling his god’s lap and panting with overwhelming need.

It was even deeper like this, something he’d never dreamed possible. Cleon felt like his whole body was on fire, filled and consumed by Anthos.

“C-Cleon,” Anthos gasped, seizing Cleon’s hips in a tighter grip. “You’re…you’re so tight!”

“You’re so big,” Cleon groaned in reply. His head was thrown back as he shuddered with the sheer sensation. “Just…just give me a…”

Anthos nodded and lay still, even as his hands clutched Cleon’s hips and his eyes were wild and dark with lust. His cock twitched, so deep inside it made Cleon curse, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut. He had to last for Anthos’ sake, to make a sweet memory at the end of this deadly, dangerous night.

At last Cleon could breathe without gasping, could brace his hands on the moss and lean forward over Anthos. He raised himself on trembling thighs, pulling out a bare few inches. It was still enough to make them both wail with pleasure, then again as he slid back down. He began to roll his hips in sharp, shallow movements, barely able to think as pre-cum dripped down to stain his lover’s abs.

“Gorgeous…” Anthos whispered, eyes wide with awe and dark with lust. “So…so beautiful.”

“You too,” Cleon gasped. Anthos’ cheeks were flushed, his eyes glinting in the dim light of their little nook. His chest was heaving as he gazed at Cleon with all the love in the world.

Cleon only wished that he could do more, move fast and hard enough to give Anthos everything. He tried to raise his hips more, to speed up his movements, but it was too much for his trembling legs. Cleon had needed a lot of practice to stand up to the god’s glory when inside him, but it seemed that taking his cock put Cleon back at square one.

It took Cleon a long time to think of the sensible solution, but once he did, he executed it immediately. He wrapped his arms around Anthos’ shoulders, gripped his soft hips between his knees, then rolled over onto his back, taking Anthos with him. He whimpered as that hot cock shifted inside him, and Anthos cried out too, clutching on tight as he landed on Cleon’s chest.

“Please…” Cleon gasped. “I can’t…I need you to do it.”

“Of course,” Anthos said, leaning forward to kiss Cleon’s chest. “I’ll do it as much as you want.”

Cleon smiled up at Anthos as he leaned back, eyes confident as he arranged Cleon’s legs to hook over his slender shoulders and easily lifted Cleon’s hips. Anthos rocked back, dragging his cock out slowly, past that secret tightness. He pulled out farther, farther, until the head caught on the rim of Cleon’s hole, leaving him gasping with need. Anthos waited a heartbeat, two, Cleon twitching and clenching around the emptiness—

Then Anthos snapped his hips forward, going balls-deep in one single, glorious thrust. Cleon howled, scrabbling at the moss as his body was filled to the brim in one mind-melting second. Anthos stared down at him, pupils blown as he panted with clear want, the need to fuck Cleon senseless.

And he did, again and again, so slow and sharp and hard and deep.

Cleon had been fucked plenty of times in his life, but never like this, never in a way that punched the air from his lungs and made his skin tingle. His own cock was twitching and throbbing, longing to finish but untouched and unfulfilled.

Cleon didn’t want to come, though, didn’t want this to end. His eyes fell closed but he forced them open, taking in the glorious sight above him. Anthos was flushed and panting, golden skin covered in shining sweat. His eyes glinted like green stars, antlers standing tall and proud above his sweat-damp hair. Kiss-reddened lips moved, but it took Cleon long moments to make out the words.

“I love you,” Anthos whispered. “I love you I love you I love you…”

“Me…” Cleon gasped. “M-me too, I love you so much…”

Anthos smiled, as bright and beautiful as the sun. He leaned forward to kiss him, and the change in angle folded Cleon nearly in two. Cleon moaned into Anthos’ mouth, thighs trembling against that slender chest, as he wrapped his arms around that lovely neck. Cleon wasn’t normally flexible enough to make the position work, but with Anthos, anything was possible.

“All of it,” he whispered, voice hoarse and wanting. “Give me…give me everything.”

Anthos nodded, sucking Cleon’s tongue into his mouth. He shifted a little, making sure Cleon was bent back and spread open, then put his hips to work. He fucked into Cleon, deep and hard and perfect, sending heat surging through his very being. Anthos filled him to the core, driving out every thought, every feeling, everything but love.

He would have called the thrusts punishing if they weren’t so rewarding, every one a gift. Cleon took them all, accepted and embraced them, as his mind floated in transcendent bliss. He belonged to his god, his lover, his soulmate, and nothing else mattered. He almost didn’t want to come, longing instead to stay in this place, this moment, forever.

Yet climax was inevitable, both of them reaching the peak in perfect sync. The shivers ran through Cleon, and he pulled Anthos close, forehead to forehead as they cried out in pleasure.

Cleon was filled once more with the rush of divine essence, of heat and life. It soaked into his bones, his very being, but this time it didn’t rouse him to further desire. He felt content, complete and satisfied.

“Thank you,” Anthos said, for what felt like the thousandth time, pressing a soft kiss to Cleon’s lips. Cleon kissed back, a gesture of affection rather than lust, simply enjoying the closeness.

They lay there in the nook, fireflies winking out in an unspoken signal as their kisses slowed and their eyes began to droop. The day had been physically and emotionally exhausting, but they had survived and come out stronger.

“You know,” Cleon said, smiling wryly, “I think that was the best harvest festival we’ve ever had.”

Anthos burst out laughing.