Fiction: In the Heat After Battle (Ares / Alektryon)

Hello my lovelies,

enjoy adorable simp Alektryon living the dream and winning the subject of his admiration and affection, the bloody God of War.

Aphrodite / Hermes is already about halfway done but as I'm with family for another week I assume that I'll be slower with the writing and editing. Despite that I'm confident to post Aphrodite domming Hermes by the end of the month.

A little teaser of this month's illustration, a super cute Ares with an even cuter Alektryon, was created by Amanda Freitas, self-identifying Ares simp. Find the illustrated version of the story here.

Glossary

body hair: The main thing separating a youth from an adult man. The ancient Greek same sex relationship between a mature, adult man (erastes) and a youth (eromenos) was supposed to end when the eromenos could grow a full beard. In ancient texts, facial hair, leg hair, and other body hair are treated as marring the beauty of a male youth. I decided to make Alektryon, who is the youthful partner, actually be attracted to his "mature" partner and the signifiers of his adult manhood in particular.

chitoniskos: While a chiton usually reached to the knees or ankles, the chitoniskos (literally "little chiton") was even shorter, mid-thigh or shorter. See Peleus in a chitoniskos and Thetis in a long chiton here.

crying: as opposed to several modern Western cultures today, crying was not an unmanly thing to do in ancient Greece. At least in myth, boys (Kyparissos), adult men (Achilles, Odysseus), and even gods (Apollon, Zeus) shed tears, usually out of grief but also out of rage and frustration (Diomedes), defeat (Agamemnon), or seeing a loved one wounded (Patroklos).

cuirass: is a piece of armour which covers the torso. It generally refers to both the chest plate and the back piece together, so while a chest plate only protects the front and a back plate only protects the back, a cuirass protects both the front and the back. In ancient Greece and Rome, the chest piece of the cuirass was designed to mimic the idealised musculature of the male torso. This kind of cuirass is called "muscle cuirass" and looks like this.

gigantes: in Greek mythology the gigantes or giants are the offspring of Gaia. They are of great strength and aggression, though not necessarily of great size. They battled the Olympians in the Gigantomachia (or Gigantomachy) in which Ares fought (alongside his family, even mortal Herakles gets in on the action).

Keres: female spirits (daimones) of violent death, including death in battle, by accident, murder or ravaging disease. Their brother Thanatos is the god of non-violent, gentle death.

klinē: a type of ancient furniture used by the ancient Greeks, usually translated as "couch", but it was a multifunctional piece of furniture that was used for reclining while dining and drinking as well as for sleeping, sexual activity, and funerary rituals, and could serve as eternal resting place in a tomb.

masculinity: Ares is the God of Masculinity and Courage because the ancient Greek word andreia, a word deriving from andreios (manly), is synonymous with masculinity and courage.

phalanx: a military formation made up of rows of shoulder-to-shoulder hoplites. The hoplites would lock their shields together and the first few ranks of soldiers would project their spears out over the first rank of shields. In combat, the whole formation would consistently press forward trying to break the enemy formation, so when two phalanx formations engaged, the struggle essentially became a pushing match.

pteryges: literally "feathers", the iconic strip-like defences that formed a defensive skirt of leather or multi-layered fabric or lappets worn from the waists of ancient Greek and Roman cuirasses, protecting the hips and thighs.

Titanomachia: Τιτανομαχία, "Titan battle", a war fought between the older generation of the gods known as titans and the younger generation of the Olympian gods to decide which of them would have dominion over the universe. Zeus and his allies emerged victorious.

trireme: an ancient Greek war ship

xiphos: a one-handed straight shortsword used by the ancient Greeks in the Iron Age.

In the Heat After Battle (Ares / Alektryon)

Alektryon was steering the golden-reined chariot away from the battlefield. As warriors were returning to their camps – those who were not lying dead or dying in the sand – so were the God of War and his retinue. He felt Ares standing behind him, his big hands on the edge of the car. Eris was flying above them with the dark Keres, chthonic spirits of violent death who had claimed the lives of many brave men today. But Alektryon only noticed them in passing. He had to keep focused on the chariot – the horses of Ares were unruly and dangerous, just like their master. Despite his iron grip on the reins, he was all too aware of the war god's presence. The warmth of his immortal body heated by battle. His towering physique, daunting and awe-inspiring. Clad in a blood-red tunic and a matching cloak, his whole appearance invoked carnage. Dark leather strips fell to his mid-thighs, and the gilded cuirass was nothing but a poor imitation with fake muscles etched on top of the god's perfect shape. The scarlet crest of his helmet would strike fear into anyone who found themselves on the opposite end of his spear. Alektryon risked a glance at the fearsome god behind him, his handsome features hidden behind the grim-faced gold of his helmet. The stench of battle lingered around them but Ares often smelled of blood and despair. Maybe only a bath drawn by his sister Hebe could truly wash it off.

Alektryon hurried the horses over the dark earth until they reached the camp of the gods where he had erected the tent of Lord Ares at the start of the war. He brought the chariot to a halt and waited until his master had stepped off the car before he unyolked the divine horses to feed and water them. A gust of wind on his face made him shield his eyes from the black wings of Eris as she landed beside her brother, gleefully holding a severed head. Alektryon turned away to focus on his work. He wasn't put off by the gruesome reality of battle but the morbid remains of mortals such as himself still churned his stomach.

"Did you notice your little protégé charging ahead like a wild beast?" Eris chuckled. "Aiming to impress you rather than at the enemy."

Ares took off his blood-stained helmet.

"There is no enemy," he said gruffly. "There are only mortals going to war. This is not the Titanomachia. They are not our enemies."

"You're right. How could they be when you change your mind about who to favour at every push of the phalanx."

"Their displays of valour impressed me."

"I knew you were fickle but that was impulsive even for you."

"You know what father says. I cannot control my temper." He pulled on her wings to tease, ruffling the feathers.

"There are more things about you that you can't control."

"If you say my spear I'm going to cut you."

Eris cackled.

"Your heart,brother. You've been courting Aphrodite. It's embarrassing. She's married to Hephaistos now."

Alekytryon shuddered at the rage in Ares' voice when he replied:

"I don't care, Eris, and if she were married to our father himself I would never let her go!"

"You're making a fool out of yourself," Eris scoffed. "If you can't keep away from her conch, at least be smart about it. Lavishing her with expensive gifts for all of Olympos to see is just incredibly stupid."

"It's not about the sex, Eris," Ares said coldly, "I love her."

"Hmmm, and her status as the goddess of fucking lust and passion has nothing to do with it."

Ares scowled at her.

"Of course the sex is great. But there's so much more to her."

"Sure. Her tits are amazing too."

"Shut up, Eris! I love her and I mean it! Every moment I have to think about Hephaistos sharing her bed is more agonising than an eagle picking away at my liver. She clearly still wants me, so take your discord elsewhere."

She stuck out her tongue at him.

"The discord is between you and Hephaistos."

"Whatever. Fuck off."

"Mark my words, brother. If you're not gonna be more subtle about it, your whole affair will come to light in a flash. Don't be daft."

She took to the air and flew back towards the battlefield, maybe rejoining the Keres. Alektryon didn’t care. All he cared about was having his master to himself now.

"Lord Ares? I'm awaiting your command."

"Yes," came the gruff reply. "Take off my armour."

He followed the war god into the big, blood-red tent where they stayed during the campaign. A large weapon rack and armour stand took up most of the room but there was a simple bed and a stained boar skin rug in front of a chair with a small table where a bowl and a jug of nectar stood to be used for refreshment. Despite the simple flair, the tent never failed to feel majestic and magnificent, no matter how many times Alektryon had been inside. He waited for Ares to stand still before he began his work. The crested helmet was handed off to him first, stained with blood and gore. He put it up on the armour stand, secretly marvelling at the sweaty dark hair that had been pressed down by the golden piece. A shiver ran down Alektryon's spine when the thick curls reminded him of the body hair still covered by the chitoniskos and armour. One thing at a time! He took a calming breath and freed the god from his bronze cuirass, setting it up for cleaning below the helmet. All kinds of human material had marred the polished metal and had to be removed before the new day dawned on the battlefield. Ares' linen chitoniskos was horribly stained as well but Alektryon hunkered down to take off the greaves first. Touching the toned calves of the god, even if just while working on the clasps, filled Alektryon with awe. Firm and bulging with muscle he wanted to stroke them, massage them after this long day of fighting, maybe lick them... But he had a job to do and there was no licking or kissing or nibbling involved. He looked up from his crouching position, the feather-like leather straps of the pteryges falling over the short chitoniskos to protect the thighs, holding the cloth snug against the body, preventing him from stealing a glimpse. He put away the greaves to clean and polish, hoping his red face looked like exertion and not like the blush it most definitely was. He opened the belt around the war god's waist, more or less hugging him as he removed the pteryges. He would have liked to stay like this a while longer, feeling the warmth of the god, the abdominal muscles underneath the fine cloth moving with his every breath, the strong back pressing against his cheek. But he couldn't fumble for too long without appearing incompetent and that would be awful. He gulped as he put away the belt, his cheeks hot and flushed. Ares would think him so embarrassing! He had to steady himself before returning to take off the chitoniskos. Getting a full view of the god's glorious form before pouring him a bath to wash off the grime of battle. Drying him off and serving him a cup of nectar and a bite of ambrosia before bed... Alektryon couldn’t quite mask the weakness in his knees as he started taking off the garment, trying not to look at the gorgeous male form of the god. He could feel the moisture of skin and linen under his fingers, smell the distinct scent of a body fresh from battle. He longed to taste his skin, salty with sweat and blood. Touch the perfect, chiselled muscles, the battle-hardened skin, the living embodiment of masculinity himself. He placed the chitoniskos in a basket and set it outside for the women of the camp to collect and wash.

Naked but no less intimidating, Ares gestured at the small table.

"Pour me a drink."

Alektryon hurried to pick up the jug and pour the god some refreshing water mixed with nectar. Ares nodded as he received it and drank in big gulps. With a loud thud he set down the empty cup on the table. His fiery dark eyes caught Alektryon's gaze.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his rough voice softened with kindness.

Alektryon nodded.

"Yes. I am." He was not all right but not for the reasons the god was most likely to expect. He had admired Ares with fascination ever since he was a child. To be approached by him during a raging battle, to get to be his personal attendant, it still felt like a dream. While his actual dreams all too frequently involved Ares without his armour, speaking soothing words as he rammed him from behind as if it was his last night on earth. But Ares hadn't really defined their relationship in those terms. He had not spoken to his father about getting permission to court him nor done it anyway. And while he was a friend and mentor, a great mentor, he taught him about the art of war almost exclusively. There had been some dancing lessons and he seemed sincerely invested in Alektryon’s skills and success, but there were no expectations beyond that, no lingering stares nor wandering hands. No lover’s gifts. Had Ares ever touched his cock or bum or thighs without obvious purpose, it would be much clearer. But as the matter stood, he might not desire him at all, his eyes set on Aphrodite and Aphrodite alone. Which was understandable. The Goddess of Love and Beauty would look the part for sure, soft curves and red lips and ribboned hair. He sighed. No, he was not all right.

Ares sat down in his simple chair, nodding at his empty cup for Alektryon to refill it.

"It is all right to be afraid sometimes, you know?" he said. "As I fill a mortal with my spirit, I can also steal courage from their heart."

"Cowardice doesn't belong in the heart of a warrior."

Ares took a sip from his cup.

"Many heroes, even the sons and daughters of gods, have known fear and despair in their life. What makes a good warrior is not a lack of fear. It's doing it anyway."

"Have... you ever been afraid, Lord Ares? Does your heart know fear?"

The god stared darkly into his cup.

"Not in combat," he said, "But there are areas where I'm not as skilled."

"What do you mean?"

Ares sighed.

"You know of my love for Aphrodite."

Alektryon nodded.

"I was lucky that she was the one to approach me because I can kill a thousand men in a day, fight gigantes and Athene, but telling a goddess I adore her? Struck my heart with a fear you can't imagine."

"I... think I might be able to imagine it." Alektryon looked at the god through his eyelashes, his cheeks turning a soft pink.

"Is that so? Who is the lucky girl?"

"It's... not a girl."

"Who is the lucky boy?"

"It's not a boy either."

"A man?" Ares asked.

"More than a man. A god."

"It's not Eris, is it?"

Alektryon had to chuckle. Eris wasn't unattractive per se but the wings and sharp, claw-like fingernails as well as her affinity to the underworld made her a little bit too scary for his taste.

"No, it's not Eris. I know you have your differences but she is very much a goddess, not a god."

"Is it Apollon?" Ares grimaced. "All the young lads have a hard-on for Apollon."

"I have never met Apollon," Alektryon said tentatively, "He may be beautiful beyond belief but my taste are the more masculine types, battle-hardened, bold, and strong."

"Like my father?" Ares asked gruffly.

"Like you."

There was a silence and Alektryon wished that Eris would come back and make a scene or snatch him for a one-way ride to the House of Hades for all he cared because he had obviously embarrassed himself to the point where Ares didn't even know what to say. He stared at the boar rug, hugging the wine jug so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Give it here, you're gonna break it." Ares had risen from his chair and gently but firmly took the jug away from Alektryon's desperate grasp. "I didn't realise you felt this way."

Alektryon kept his eyes on the boar, defiantly crossing his arms. Now Ares would tell him to seek education somewhere else.

"Do you wish for an erotic mentorship?" the god asked point-blank.

"What does it matter? It's not your intention, is it? And never was."

Ares shrugged.

"So what? Do you want it now?"

Alektryon had been ready to release an angry tirade on how cruel it was to mock him. Only, those words had sounded nothing but sincere. Ares was a straight-forward god, he didn't usually beat about the bush. He whacked right in the middle of it. So Alektryon reined in his temper and replied with a shaking voice:

"Yes."

"All right." Ares forced his chin up to look at him. "Then that's what we'll have."

Alektryon had hardly processed this new information when the war god's lips where upon him, kissing him with the force of an advancing phalanx. Breathless, he leaned against the broad chest of his mentor. His erastes. This was a language he understood. A clear statement. An unmistakable gesture. Tears of joy blurred his vision. Ares kissed them away.

"Don't cry, little fledgling. I'll teach you all about being a man, don't you worry. In the bed and on the battlefield." His rough fingers felt good on Alektryon's cheek. "If that is what you want."

"I want it, Lord Ares. Please!"

"In that case..." Ares picked him up with such ease as if he weighed nothing more than a child, his thighs secured in his big hands. Attacking him with ever more demanding kisses, he roughly pressed the mortal boy against the armour rack, knocking off a bronze cuirass in the process. Alektryon would have made a mental note to put it back but his mind was much too busy right now. Rising desire, stubble against his chin, wet kisses, and the sheer and utter love for the war god filled his heart and his head. Ares' grip was firm, almost painfully so, his hands coarse from wielding his weapons, but Alektryon felt safe in his embrace, as if the only thing that could knock them over was desire. The weapon rack was heavy and yet their kisses were forceful enough to make it shake. Alektryon wrapped his arms around his lover's neck, happy to surrender himself to the caress of Lord Ares.

"Don't think I didn't notice your fine arse during training," Ares whispered, biting his ear with enough vigour to make him cry out. "Or your thighs, promising delight." He squeezed, surely leaving marks.

"The delight is yours," Alektryon spluttered, "Take your pleasure!"

Ares pushed him hard against the weapon rack.

"Don't be a push-over, boy!" he growled, leaving love bites on his sensitive neck.

"I'll look more battered than after weapon practice!" Alektryon laughed.

"This is weapon practice too," Ares said, "You thrust with both your spear and your phallus." He lowered Alektryon, letting him stand. "We'll do this right."

The youthful warrior wasn't short but he still had to look up at Ares, his eyes burning with love and admiration. Ares’ mouth was on him again, strong fingers pinching his buttocks. Alektryon whelped, daring to touch his– yes, his lover! in turn, curious fingertips taking in the sensation of hirsute skin, broken in some places where ichor had been drawn, now turned into scab. They would be gone eventually, there were no scars left behind on the bodies of the immortals. But they could get hurt, as Alektryon had seen. Ares' muscles flexed and relaxed under his tanned skin, tangible evidence of his lover’s great strength and athletic prowess that made Alektryon feel protected and safe from all harm. Coarse, curly chest hair invited his fingers to ruffle and play with them and follow the trail all the way down to the pubic bush. Body hair was supposed to be ugly, a sure sign of a body past the bloom of youth, but Alektryon couldn't help but feel it was incredibly attractive, just as mature men – or gods – were attractive. Just as he was considering whether or not he should venture deeper, enjoy not only the sensation of the pubic curls but maybe, just maybe, the silky prepuce as well, when Ares did just that. Only, he didn't spend much time on the hair, going straight for Alektryon's cock. A gasp escaped the young mortal. The god's touch was surprisingly gentle and teasing, making him leak in anticipation.

"Oh by heavenly Aphrodite..." he stammered.

Ares gave him a light squeeze.

"She would be cross with me if I didn't give you a good time, believe me."

"D-do you think she's watching or something?"

"You just invoked her." Ares pinched one of his cheeks. "Let us hope the lady is kind and grants stable hardness and a gushing climax." His large hand snug around Alektryon's erection, he gave the head a brief caress with his thumb, drawing a moan from his young lover’s throat. "A gushing climax for the both of us."

Alektryon nodded weakly, only half-registering Ares' words. His mind was swimming with lust, love, and all these new sensations. Of course he had touched himself before but it was fundamentally different when someone else did and even more so when that someone had been the focus of his affection and desire for so long. He groaned when Ares gave him an actual rub, pulling the prepuce all the way down, leaning hard against the weapon rack. A xiphos dropped noisily but neither of them paid it any mind. Ares kept rubbing him while undoing his belt with just one free hand, letting it slide to the floor. Alektryon was quick to remove his chitoniskos too, standing naked in front of the god. They had been naked during training many times but it felt so very different now. For the first time, he was seen as an erotic partner. An erotic person. Alektryon clung to Ares, burying his face in the curly hair of his chest. He smelled of the blood of the fallen, that was undeniable, but there was also that strong masculine note that Alektryon found so irresistible. He basked in the scent as if it were a perfume, rubbing his cheek against the broad chest. Should he dare? Ares rubbing him gave him courage and also effectively silenced any parts of his mind that may have wanted to come up with counterarguments. He kissed the warm, firm skin of his lover's hairy breast, his lips lingering. Ares neither pushed him away nor did he comment on it. Feeling very lascivious, he put his tongue into the kiss, sliding it over the naked chest. He tasted the salt of his sweat, the slightly metallic sting of blood, and some complex flavours he couldn’t quite identify. Maybe it was ichor, maybe it was… other bodily fluids. A shiver ran down his spine, both from the gruesome thought and the physical pleasure.

"Let's move it to the bed."

The lust in his eyes made Alektryon giddily follow Ares to the wooden klinē with plump red cushions and a simple woven blanket.

"Get comfortable. I'll get us the oil."

That would normally be his responsibility as the attendant. But it was nice, to lie here on the exceedingly comfortable bed and watch the handsome god pour some oil from the heavy storage amphora into a libation bowl.

"Turn around, fledgling."

Alektryon did as told, wiggling his bum a little to amuse his lover. Ares gave it a good, hard smack in response.

"Hold still."

"Yes, Lord Ares."

Warm hands spread the olive oil over his legs in the way the god approached most things: head-on, effective, and without frills. He unceremoniously shoved the bowl under the bed and rubbed his oily hands on his own cock. Alektryon gaped at the sight. The war god exposed a spear-like – others might say heart-shaped – head, glistening with the gift of Athene. He was about the span of a hand in length, a size some might consider unrefined. Alektryon didn't care. If the Goddess of Love and Lust found it acceptable, he wouldn't find any fault with it.

"You are prepared. Are you ready for me to come between your thighs?"

"Yes."

Alektryon turned so he could see his lover's face pushing in. Unexpectedly kind eyes met his and a rare smile graced the war god's features. He held Alektryon's hips firmly without gripping too hard. His cock glided between his slightly opened legs with the ease of a trireme. He felt smooth and warm and not as thick as he would have imagined.

"Are you all right?" Ares paused, waiting for a reply.

"I am great!"

"Good. Let's make you ecstatic, then."

Ares' large fist closed around Alektryon's cock again, still slippery with oil. Alektryon couldn't hold back a moan, the immense arousal fired by his lover's cock between his thighs paired with the pleasure of a big, rough hand around his own, he could hardly imagine anything more titillating. Both the thrusting and the rubbing started out slow, letting him get used to this kind of sex. Not that it was particularly out there. Thigh sex was about as run-of-the-mill as one could get. But still, it was new and amazing for him. Feeling his lover’s length, its warmth and hardness sliding along his skin. The hand that held a different kind of spear during the day, now dealing delight instead of death. Alektryon blinked away tears of joy. Ares too seemed overwhelmed by desire, his thrusts coming faster and more forceful, accompanied by lustful grunts that brought Alektryon to the brink of orgasm. He felt his climax approach much too soon. He wasn’t ready. If he couldn’t hold back he had to get one thing out before it ended.

"Lord Ares?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

A moment passed and Alektryon was sure he had startled the war god but then his broad frame leaned over him, kissing his cheek and wrapping his free arm around him.

"My sweet Alektryon."

This loving embrace was too much. Alektryon spilled over the sheets, groaning in the lustfilled ecstasy granted to gods and mortals by mighty Aphrodite. Ares kissed his cheek and his temple, holding him through the shudders of his climax.

"Good boy."

Alektryon's orgasm hadn't fully subsided when a sudden grunt made him jump, the warm wetness between his thighs an obvious reason for the sound a blink of an eye later.

"What a blast!" he exclaimed. "We have to do that again!"

Ares' bristly cheek rubbed against his own.

"We will."

They stayed like this for a moment, Lord Ares bent over him like a protective shield until he got up with a groan.

"I'm in dire need of a bath," he said. "Care to join me?"

Alektryon blushed.

"In the tub?"

Ares grinned.

"As long as you pour the water too, you are welcome to jump in with me."

Alektryon rolled off the bed and grabbed the water jug. Cuddling in a hot tub, that was an offer he couldn't refuse!

FIN

Epilogue

“Soooooo…”

Aphrodite lay in her lover’s arms, enjoying the afterglow of a very satisfying tribute to her domain. Ares gave only a grunt in reply, on the verge of dozing off.

“How did you like your sweet little warrior friend?”

Ares shrugged.

“I like him. He’s my friend and I trust him. Why else would I ask him to guard the door?”

“Oh come on, love.” Aphrodite pouted. “He invoked me. That is practically an invitation.”

“What are you even asking then?” Ares shook his head. “If you already know all the answers.”

Aphrodite grinned. “Oh, I know his side of the experience well enough. I’m asking about yours.”

Ares shrugged.

“There isn’t much to tell. I gave him what I thought he wanted.”

“Uh-huh. Surely there was no passion involved on your part.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Give me the details, love. You know how much I long to hear about your exploits.”

“It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t courting him nor did I steal him away like my father did with Ganymedes.”

“You were not courting him and yet you ended up in bed together. And you are right, I would have been very cross indeed if you hadn’t given him a good time. I want to hear about it, love. You’re not getting out of this one.”

Ares sighed.

“Will you stop asking about him if I tell you?”

Aphrodite smirked.

“Maybe. Or I may start asking for a threesome.”

🌹🌹🌹

A salute to my phalanx of supporters, especially to my demigodesses and demigods Paul, Fire, Ophidian Lass, Callum, Cosima, Dami, Sarah, Linda, and Jane, as well as my lovely nymphs and satyrs Malpertuis, Kaitlin, and Magda!
May Ares always have your back ⚔️

Next, Aphrodite dommes the hell out of Hermes. The May Fiction Poll is still running. Vote here to determine what happens in Masturbation Month 💦