[ just for the record, he hates this and everything you stand for. so he's going to pretend like he has no idea what this message is trying to convey, even though he knows very well what this message is trying to convey. fuck you, heracles. (literally, sometime soon. but that isn't the point. he hates that too.) ]
[ he should really just refuse to speak to him in general but ... well, the thought of heracles' bed and the events that will occur there is more enticing than he's willing to admit. ]
[ come on, leon. all the cool kids are doing it. besides, heracles thought not putting it into words might make it easier — on both of their consciences. ]
[ do you seriously think he wants to be a cool kid. he may not actually want to talk about whatever it is they're doing together, but it's better than using emojis to communicate. they aren't cavemen. and maybe some part of him does want to hear (see) heracles say it. there's more satisfaction to be had out of it, even if that usually comes with more feelings he doesn't want to address. ]
Use your words or I'm blocking you.
[ which isn't entirely an empty threat. he probably would. for a day or two, at least. ]
[ you're right. what was heracles thinking. leon doesn't have a cool bone in his body. but there's really only one bone heracles is concerned with right now. so, he weighs his options, and ultimately decides the joy of annoying leon isn't worth the cost of being frozen out, even if just for a few days. ]
youre no fun but fine do you want to fuck or not?
[ besides, he's plenty capable of annoying him in person. ]
[ there's a bit of a delay between the read stamp and his next message, maybe just to give herc the impression that he doesn't care. it would be only half right. ]
[ ugh. he almost doesn't respond, but he just wants to make his sentiments clear one more time: ]
I hate you.
[ which is leon for "i'll be there." there's a knock on the door about five minutes later and a very peeved leon standing outside, arms crossed. he should really consider questioning his judgment, but he'd also rather get laid so it seems like a moot point. ]
[ when the door opens, heracles is standing there in nothing but a pair of workout shorts, which are barely holding on to his hips. he finished at the gym not too long ago, and though the sweat has since dried, he'd probably still benefit from a shower. ]
You have a funny way of showing it, [ he says, continuing their text conversation. grinning, he steps aside to let leon in. ]
[ listen, it's complicated being leon. the dichotomy that exists between hating heracles and wanting to fuck him is something not even he understands, and he isn't particularly keen on working it out anytime soon. ]
[ instead, he'd rather let his gaze trail south and then back up, wetting his lips involuntarily. there's still a light sheen to heracles' skin that is, by all accounts, quite natural, as opposed to anything remotely godly. he huffs and rolls his eyes, perhaps to attest the fact that he does, indeed, hate him — ]
And you have a funny way of never shutting up. [ except that's easily remedied the moment he crosses the threshold: he has heracles' face in his hands and is shoving him bodily into the nearest surface, their mouths aligned with the familiarity of having done this one too many times. ]
[ they can just blame it on heracles' raw sex appeal. leon wouldn't be the first to fall victim to it, and after all, he is human now. no need to scratch beneath the surface, especially when the surface is so goddamn enjoyable.
heracles lets himself be pushed, reining in the godly strength that might've otherwise made the feat more difficult. his walls come down too easily around leon these days. he kisses back in earnest as his arms wind around leon's waist and pull him closer. heat ripples through him, already pooling behind his navel, and his heart is picking up speed, beating so hard against his chest he wonders if leon can feel it.
as he drags his teeth over leon's bottom lip, his hands slide down leon's back and grab hold of him. with a grunt, he lifts leon from underneath, silently urging him to wrap his legs around his waist. leon's not exactly light, but for heracles holding him up seems effortless. ]
[ he can feel it, the thunder of heracles' heart under his hands, pulsing beneath his fingers like the offbeat of his own, as if at every turn and everything they do is contrary to the other, always opposites drawn together by one common need. sex is the only thing they can both agree on, and even if it goes against every ill feeling he's ever had toward heracles, he can't particularly bring himself to care when they're together like this. sex is the only thing leon trusts heracles with, an act that is both mindless and physical; the intimacy of it doesn't mean anything (or, at least, so he'd like to believe). ]
[ he tenses momentarily when heracles' lifts him, panicking for a split second while he adjusts to no longer having his feet planted on the ground. his legs hook around heracles' waist, his arms clinging tightly to his shoulders. he feels vaguely like a cat stuck in a tree, but at least he knows there's an easy way down from this. he pulls out of the kiss just far enough to look heracles in the eyes, his own slightly narrowed but still intent. ]
What are you doing? [ it isn't exactly a complaint, but he would have liked a little warning. as such, he expects to know what heracles is thinking and where exactly this is going. ]
[ sex is easy. it's been one of the few dependable things in heracles' life. doing it without catching feelings is trickier, but it's necessary. his tactic in the past was not to sleep with the same person too many times. sometimes, though, he finds himself drawn to the same person again and again. so it was with elias — and the way that ended was just another cautionary tale of why he can't let himself get caught up in feelings. the people he cares about just wind up hurt. or dead.
that's why this thing with leon is perfect, in a way. leon's hatred for him is a buffer, allowing them to hook up without developing other, deeper feelings, no matter how often they do it. at least, that's what heracles tells himself when he's kept up at night with thoughts about when and how this is going to go horribly wrong.
but that's neither here nor there. here, now, everything's good. and maybe he should've given leon warning before he picked him up, but they don't usually use so many words. ]
Shower.
[ hopefully that was enough warning this time. he tilts his head and peppers kisses along the leon's jaw as he carries him the short distance to the bathroom, only nearly bumping into the door frame. ]
[ leon tries not to think about any of this once it's over — he may have even started to take far more frequent (and literal) cat naps just so he won't have to think about it, lazing in the sun with very little occupying his mind except the feel of the grass beneath his fur. it's harder to ignore once he's human again, but it's a bit easier to keep heracles out of his thoughts and feelings now that he's actually made other friends. compartmentalizing does wonders, and that's exactly where this encounter is going: straight to the back of his mind, where he will definitely not think about it or what it means in the coming days. ]
[ he isn't entirely sure why the word shower takes him by surprise. heracles had mentioned it before leon arrived, and even if he only jumped in to rinse off, he doubts it would have taken less than five minutes, so obviously he'd waited until leon knocked on his door. he doesn't say anything in response, just tilts his neck to the side to give heracles a better angle, making soft moaning noises in the back of his throat that would almost sound like a purr if he wasn't a lion. his fingers card absently through heracles' hair, blunt nails dragging across his scalp. ]
[ once they're in the bathroom, leon shifts against heracles, anxious to be let down. ] All this just to get me wet. [ it's the closest to a joke he'll ever get. ]
[ it's not entirely fair that leon has that kind of escape, that he can climb out of the complex tangle of human emotion whenever he pleases. the only thing that brings heracles any sort of temporary reprieve is physical activity. sports, weight-lifting, meaningless sex. anything that commands his focus long enough for his nerves to unwind, for his inner demons to fall silent. schoolwork only helps so much; it's too easy to retreat into his own head when it's only him and his books.
( of course, he'd probably benefit from a little more introspection. then maybe he'd realize that having casual hate-sex with one of his enemies from the past is probably causing as many problems as it's helping to alleviate. )
he relishes the noises leon makes, close enough to a purr to make his stomach flip, and the fingers in his hair. he's reluctant to let leon down, mostly because he doesn't want to lose the warmth of his body just yet, but what really makes him pause is leon's attempt at humor. actual humor. heracles stares at him, the kind of look that begs the question, who are you and what have you done with leon? before a smile breaks across his face and he laughs. ]
Yeah, [ he says, kissing leon once more, this time on the mouth, and then setting him down, ] it's my thirteenth fucking labor. Now take off your clothes.
[ while leon does that, heracles ducks inside the shower to start the water. ]
[ there's an extremely fine line between i hate you and i'm only using you for my own pleasure and i tolerate you just enough to maybe enjoy this that they're constantly toeing — and, frankly, it's a little alarming how close they are to crossing into territory neither one of them is prepared to deal with or give a name to. hearing heracles laugh nearly makes him question going through with this at all, his face flushed from something decidedly not related to the fact that heracles' hands were just on his ass or that his mouth had just been giving much needed attention to a very sensitive spot on his neck. he almost feels himself begin to smile (almost laugh, even), but he quickly resists the urge and punches heracles on the arm instead, which really does very little damage, considering. ]
Shut up. [ he rolls his eyes, thankful for heracles' mouth on his again, relieving him from saying anything else particularly stupid. this, he reminds himself, is why they shouldn't talk during these rendezvous, because there's always a chance something else might slip through. he swallows down any further urges he might have to find heracles endearing in any way, because that, he knows, is truly dangerous territory. it's my thirteenth fucking labor. what an idiot. ]
[ nevertheless, he doesn't challenge heracles' instruction and strips down without much fuss, ready to get on with what he actually came here for: the physicality, and using heracles for the only thing he's good for. ]
[ for a second, heracles thinks leon might actually smile. and for that second, his heart seizes, waiting for the magical moment. but leon punches him instead, which tracks with what he'd expect. still, he can't wipe the grin off his own face, if only because leon's surliness is amusing and the slightest bit endearing. he's never had sex with someone who looks less like they want to be there. but the fact that leon strips when heracles tells him to is all the confirmation he needs that leon does want to be here.
while he waits for the water to heat up, he goes to the door. ] Wait here. [ and then he disappears, only to return a few moments later with a small bottle in his hand, which he leaves both on the counter next to the sink. if leon looks closely enough, he'll see an olive on the bottle label. ]
You know, I almost wasn't sure if you'd want to do this. [ hooking his thumbs into his gym shorts, he tugs them over his hips, down his thighs, and kicks them the rest of the way off. when he speaks again, it becomes clear that he didn't mean this as in, sex with heracles, but — ] I didn't think cats liked water.
[ before leon can punch him again, he steps into the shower, leaving the door open for leon to follow. ]
[ he's a bit miffed when heracles leaves him in the bathroom, half undressed and half hard, but once heracles returns with something he most definitely recognizes, he's a little thankful one of them had the foresight to realize they might need it. he doesn't say anything about it, just eyes the bottle knowingly before his attention returns to heracles. he steps out of his remaining clothes, watching heracles do the same with the hungry eyes that could only belong to a predator. heracles is a different kind of prey now, though. less literal food, more metaphorical. ]
[ he almost wants to reconsider how metaphorical with a crack like that, but it's hardly unexpected from heracles. the fact that he's even come to expect it and not entirely hate it as much as he probably should ... well, that's another thing he'd rather just ignore. heracles' jabs used to incite him to anger almost immediately, but now they're almost ... something. it's almost as if leon has grown fond, which is decidedly not good. ]
[ it's difficult not to roll his eyes again, but somehow he manages. ] Do I look like a cat right now? [ if he were, he'd probably be less inclined to get wet; he hates getting his fur completely wet unless it's absolutely necessary. but there's something strangely relaxing about the human ritual of bathing — or, in this case, arousing. the two aren't mutually exclusive. ]
[ he follows heracles into the shower, closing the door behind him. he watches the water trail down heracles' chest for a moment, and then he closes the remaining distance, kissing him open-mouthed, his hands carding through wet hair. ]
[ during the brief moment where leon watches heracles, heracles watches him back, his gaze traveling from leon's collarbone down, down, returning to his face a second before their mouths meet. his eyes close, his lashes already wet, and his hands find leon's hips, dragging him that much closer. the way leon looked at him like a hungry predator is branded on his memory, and while it should unnerve him, the truth is that it makes his heart race for an entirely different reason. hot water beats against his back, and he sweeps his tongue over the roof of leon's mouth and catches his bottom lip between his teeth. ]
Mm, [ he hums as he breaks the kiss, ] definitely not a cat. Otherwise we wouldn't be doing this.
[ his hands give leon's ass a squeeze, while the other sneaks between their bodies and wraps around their cocks. heracles may be the son of zeus, but he draws the line at animal fucking. he strokes them together; the heat and friction of skin on skin, even when it's reduced by the water, makes his blood rush. when he leans in for another kiss, he pries leon's lips apart with his tongue and feeds a moan into his mouth. ]
[ the thought we shouldn't be doing this crosses his mind, and not for the first time. but like all the other times, leon ignores it in favor of the feel of heracles against him, even if he knows one day it isn't going to end this well. they've always been fated; he just isn't sure which side of the metaphorical coin they're going to land on this time. heads: heracles kills leon. tails: leon kills heracles. perhaps in doing this, in claiming some part of heracles for his own in this physical, visceral way, this is his small act of defiance toward the preordained. he's done being used by the gods. using heracles feels like a win, for now. ]
[ he groans in response, his arm snaking around heracles' shoulder to keep himself upright, his knees dangerously close to buckling under heracles' touch. in a more private space as this, where there are no neighboring ears to overhear through the thinness of the dormitory walls, leon is more inclined to be more vocal, his breaths coming out in a series of moans, having very quickly forgotten about the purpose of a shower. he wonders if heracles had ever really intended to clean off, or if this is just the preamble. either way, he finds he doesn't particularly care, as long as heracles keeps stroking them together. ]
Herc — [ it sounds somewhat strangled, mostly because halfway through the first syllable leon realized what was coming out of his mouth and made a rather poor attempt to change course, which cut off the word entirely, leaving it sounding almost like he'd meant to say it like that. he realizes, also, in the space between having said it and left it hanging in the air, that it's the first time he's ever spoken heracles' name during one of their rendezvous, and he desperately hopes heracles will ignore it. perhaps if he reminds heracles why he's here... with a somewhat frustrated grunt, he pulls away just enough to say, ] Just fuck me already.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Wrong number.
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🍆👅💦
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I refuse to speak to you in emojis.
[ he should really just refuse to speak to him in general but ... well, the thought of heracles' bed and the events that will occur there is more enticing than he's willing to admit. ]
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[ come on, leon. all the cool kids are doing it. besides, heracles thought not putting it into words might make it easier — on both of their consciences. ]
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Use your words or I'm blocking you.
[ which isn't entirely an empty threat. he probably would. for a day or two, at least. ]
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youre no fun
but fine
do you want to fuck or not?
[ besides, he's plenty capable of annoying him in person. ]
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Where are you?
[ that's a yes. ]
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persephone's place
i was about to jump in the shower
🚿🍆🍑🛀
[ ok he couldn't resist one more. ]
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I hate you.
[ which is leon for "i'll be there." there's a knock on the door about five minutes later and a very peeved leon standing outside, arms crossed. he should really consider questioning his judgment, but he'd also rather get laid so it seems like a moot point. ]
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You have a funny way of showing it, [ he says, continuing their text conversation. grinning, he steps aside to let leon in. ]
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[ instead, he'd rather let his gaze trail south and then back up, wetting his lips involuntarily. there's still a light sheen to heracles' skin that is, by all accounts, quite natural, as opposed to anything remotely godly. he huffs and rolls his eyes, perhaps to attest the fact that he does, indeed, hate him — ]
And you have a funny way of never shutting up. [ except that's easily remedied the moment he crosses the threshold: he has heracles' face in his hands and is shoving him bodily into the nearest surface, their mouths aligned with the familiarity of having done this one too many times. ]
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heracles lets himself be pushed, reining in the godly strength that might've otherwise made the feat more difficult. his walls come down too easily around leon these days. he kisses back in earnest as his arms wind around leon's waist and pull him closer. heat ripples through him, already pooling behind his navel, and his heart is picking up speed, beating so hard against his chest he wonders if leon can feel it.
as he drags his teeth over leon's bottom lip, his hands slide down leon's back and grab hold of him. with a grunt, he lifts leon from underneath, silently urging him to wrap his legs around his waist. leon's not exactly light, but for heracles holding him up seems effortless. ]
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[ he tenses momentarily when heracles' lifts him, panicking for a split second while he adjusts to no longer having his feet planted on the ground. his legs hook around heracles' waist, his arms clinging tightly to his shoulders. he feels vaguely like a cat stuck in a tree, but at least he knows there's an easy way down from this. he pulls out of the kiss just far enough to look heracles in the eyes, his own slightly narrowed but still intent. ]
What are you doing? [ it isn't exactly a complaint, but he would have liked a little warning. as such, he expects to know what heracles is thinking and where exactly this is going. ]
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that's why this thing with leon is perfect, in a way. leon's hatred for him is a buffer, allowing them to hook up without developing other, deeper feelings, no matter how often they do it. at least, that's what heracles tells himself when he's kept up at night with thoughts about when and how this is going to go horribly wrong.
but that's neither here nor there. here, now, everything's good. and maybe he should've given leon warning before he picked him up, but they don't usually use so many words. ]
Shower.
[ hopefully that was enough warning this time. he tilts his head and peppers kisses along the leon's jaw as he carries him the short distance to the bathroom, only nearly bumping into the door frame. ]
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[ he isn't entirely sure why the word shower takes him by surprise. heracles had mentioned it before leon arrived, and even if he only jumped in to rinse off, he doubts it would have taken less than five minutes, so obviously he'd waited until leon knocked on his door. he doesn't say anything in response, just tilts his neck to the side to give heracles a better angle, making soft moaning noises in the back of his throat that would almost sound like a purr if he wasn't a lion. his fingers card absently through heracles' hair, blunt nails dragging across his scalp. ]
[ once they're in the bathroom, leon shifts against heracles, anxious to be let down. ] All this just to get me wet. [ it's the closest to a joke he'll ever get. ]
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( of course, he'd probably benefit from a little more introspection. then maybe he'd realize that having casual hate-sex with one of his enemies from the past is probably causing as many problems as it's helping to alleviate. )
he relishes the noises leon makes, close enough to a purr to make his stomach flip, and the fingers in his hair. he's reluctant to let leon down, mostly because he doesn't want to lose the warmth of his body just yet, but what really makes him pause is leon's attempt at humor. actual humor. heracles stares at him, the kind of look that begs the question, who are you and what have you done with leon? before a smile breaks across his face and he laughs. ]
Yeah, [ he says, kissing leon once more, this time on the mouth, and then setting him down, ] it's my thirteenth fucking labor. Now take off your clothes.
[ while leon does that, heracles ducks inside the shower to start the water. ]
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Shut up. [ he rolls his eyes, thankful for heracles' mouth on his again, relieving him from saying anything else particularly stupid. this, he reminds himself, is why they shouldn't talk during these rendezvous, because there's always a chance something else might slip through. he swallows down any further urges he might have to find heracles endearing in any way, because that, he knows, is truly dangerous territory. it's my thirteenth fucking labor. what an idiot. ]
[ nevertheless, he doesn't challenge heracles' instruction and strips down without much fuss, ready to get on with what he actually came here for: the physicality, and using heracles for the only thing he's good for. ]
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while he waits for the water to heat up, he goes to the door. ] Wait here. [ and then he disappears, only to return a few moments later with a small bottle in his hand, which he leaves both on the counter next to the sink. if leon looks closely enough, he'll see an olive on the bottle label. ]
You know, I almost wasn't sure if you'd want to do this. [ hooking his thumbs into his gym shorts, he tugs them over his hips, down his thighs, and kicks them the rest of the way off. when he speaks again, it becomes clear that he didn't mean this as in, sex with heracles, but — ] I didn't think cats liked water.
[ before leon can punch him again, he steps into the shower, leaving the door open for leon to follow. ]
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[ he almost wants to reconsider how metaphorical with a crack like that, but it's hardly unexpected from heracles. the fact that he's even come to expect it and not entirely hate it as much as he probably should ... well, that's another thing he'd rather just ignore. heracles' jabs used to incite him to anger almost immediately, but now they're almost ... something. it's almost as if leon has grown fond, which is decidedly not good. ]
[ it's difficult not to roll his eyes again, but somehow he manages. ] Do I look like a cat right now? [ if he were, he'd probably be less inclined to get wet; he hates getting his fur completely wet unless it's absolutely necessary. but there's something strangely relaxing about the human ritual of bathing — or, in this case, arousing. the two aren't mutually exclusive. ]
[ he follows heracles into the shower, closing the door behind him. he watches the water trail down heracles' chest for a moment, and then he closes the remaining distance, kissing him open-mouthed, his hands carding through wet hair. ]
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Mm, [ he hums as he breaks the kiss, ] definitely not a cat. Otherwise we wouldn't be doing this.
[ his hands give leon's ass a squeeze, while the other sneaks between their bodies and wraps around their cocks. heracles may be the son of zeus, but he draws the line at animal fucking. he strokes them together; the heat and friction of skin on skin, even when it's reduced by the water, makes his blood rush. when he leans in for another kiss, he pries leon's lips apart with his tongue and feeds a moan into his mouth. ]
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[ he groans in response, his arm snaking around heracles' shoulder to keep himself upright, his knees dangerously close to buckling under heracles' touch. in a more private space as this, where there are no neighboring ears to overhear through the thinness of the dormitory walls, leon is more inclined to be more vocal, his breaths coming out in a series of moans, having very quickly forgotten about the purpose of a shower. he wonders if heracles had ever really intended to clean off, or if this is just the preamble. either way, he finds he doesn't particularly care, as long as heracles keeps stroking them together. ]
Herc — [ it sounds somewhat strangled, mostly because halfway through the first syllable leon realized what was coming out of his mouth and made a rather poor attempt to change course, which cut off the word entirely, leaving it sounding almost like he'd meant to say it like that. he realizes, also, in the space between having said it and left it hanging in the air, that it's the first time he's ever spoken heracles' name during one of their rendezvous, and he desperately hopes heracles will ignore it. perhaps if he reminds heracles why he's here... with a somewhat frustrated grunt, he pulls away just enough to say, ] Just fuck me already.