Disclaimer Hercules and Iolaus belong to MCA/Universal and Renaisance Pictures. They
were used without permission. No copyright infringement intended. No money
was made.


BATHTIME

by Queenie


"Iolaus?"

"Yeah?

"Let's go home."

"I thought that's where we were going?" The hunter frowned up at his friend, stifling a yawn and bringing up a hand to rub at one stiff shoulder. One too many battles with one too many groups of bandits, he figured. There was only so much punishment a body could take before it began to protest, and that was just what his body was beginning to do - not so much protest as scream for help.

"No, not Corinth, I mean let's go to Thebes." Hercules looked exhausted as well, reflected Iolaus. Time for a little rest and relaxation, maybe. Which was the very reason they were headed in the direction in which they were travelling - if only they could avoid the seemingly endless groups of thugs who took pleasure in leaping out from behind trees and bushes every mile or so intent, or so it seemed, on making names for themselves by pummelling the son of Zeus and his warrior companion. Iolaus didn't really know why they bothered. He and Hercules were quite capable of handling themselves against every one of the badly trained men, regardless of their size or the sharpness of their weapons. The last group had fared particularly badly - as Hercules, tired and becoming more and more irritated with being attacked, had really laid into them. Iolaus, having taken care of the four who had charged at him, had watched in fascination as one man after another had flown through the air, landing in trees, splashing down in the river and coming to rest in the various prickly bushes which lined the road. That latter had made him wince as the thorns of that particular bush were imbued with a sap which caused virulent itching, which could turn into large, painful blisters if not treated.

"Well, Thebes is closer," Iolaus mused. "But I thought you wanted to see your mother and Jason? Not to mention Iphicles, Rena and the baby."

The demigod smiled down at his friend and lover, his azure eyes sweeping over the beloved form appreciatively. "I do - eventually," he conceded. "But right at this minute I'd rather spend some time alone - with you."

A rush of warmth spread through the hunter at his friend's words, followed very quickly by a frisson of anticipation. "Okay," he agreed, readily. "Thebes it is then, Herc. Lead on!"


They encountered no further rogues or bandits on their journey to Thebes. By the time they arrived, dusk was beginning to fall and both men felt tired, hot and dirty. The sun's blistering heat had beat down on them all day, and that, coupled with the energy expended during their various and numerous bandit encounters had been instrumental in making them both feel very much the worse for wear.

Hercules had retained a small property near the base of the mountainside which sheltered Thebes from the vagaries of the Easterly wind. The plot of land on which it was built had once been farmland, but Hercules had never been much of a farmer, and his long absences from the place meant that its upkeep was sporadic, to say the least. The meadows of waving yellow corn had long since been replaced by verdant pastures of tall emerald grasses and huge sunflowers. It was peaceful, quiet and just what the two friends needed after so much recent conflict.

The house itself was small, but sufficient for the demigod's needs. A neighbour very kindly cleaned it once in a while and had obviously paid a recent visit, for not only was it free from dust, but the shutters had been half-drawn to protect the rooms from the heat outside.

"Ohhh - that's better," sighed Iolaus, almost purring in bliss as he sank into one of the two comfortable chairs by the open fireplace. "Gods, I could sleep for a week!"

"You could?" Hercules sounded disappointed and the hunter slanted a glance up at him, smiling slyly at the crestfallen expression on the demigod's face.

"Well, I could use a bath first," he temporised. He made a big performance out of stretching and yawned widely. "Maybe I'll go out back to the stream and ..."

"No need," interjected Hercules speedily, just as Iolaus had hoped he would. "There's the wooden tub - I'll fill it."

"Oh well - if you're sure ...?" Iolaus stifled the urge to giggle at the eagerness with which Hercules was willing to carry out this task, tired as he had claimed he was. He risked another glance at the demigod and felt his heart miss a beat at the expression in those warm, azure eyes. Pure animal lust coupled with a kindling passion, warring for prominence therein. Oh boy, there was going to be some fun in this house tonight - it was just as well that all of Hercules' neighbours lived a couple of miles away - too far to be bothered by any noise!

Whilst Iolaus relaxed in the chair, Hercules busied himself readying the tub, carrying buckets of water from the well and boiling them - muttering impatiently as the heat from the small fire he had lit for that purpose seemed bound and determined to take its sweet time.

Eventually, the tub was ready and he tested the temperature with one hand, nodding in satisfaction. Just right. Returning to the fireside, he stood for a moment, staring down at the small figure sprawled inelegantly in the chair. Iolaus had not been kidding when he had complained of being tired. As exhausted as Hercules was, sometimes he tended to forget that his friend was merely mortal, probably because the hunter possessed a seemingly inexhaustible amount of energy, which he expended constantly. The demigod had set a gruelling pace to reach their home in Thebes, and Iolaus had kept pace with it uncomplainingly - and now he was paying the price. If Hercules was tired, then the blond warrior had been pushed to the limits of his endurance and beyond. Crouching beside the chair, he ran a tender finger over the beloved face, tracing one fine cheekbone, travelling down the corded neck and coming to rest on the hollow at the base of that creamy throat. Leaning forward, he placed his lips in that sweet place, tasting the sandalwood and honey scent of his lover, revelling in the feel of the satin skin, and smiling as his tender ministrations roused the other man.

"Hey," he said, in a low, throaty voice, gazing up into sleep-fogged gentian blue eyes. "Ready for your bath?"

Iolaus nodded. Was he ever! He rose from the chair, intending to divest himself of his clothing on the way, but found himself held hostage by a pair of strong hands which glided over his responsive body, awakening the dormant desire which was ever present and realised that he was being slowly stripped of his dusty garments.

He moaned softly, the sound reverberating against the lips which had captured his, and Hercules tightened his hold on the naked body which he held in an almost crushing grip, his hands travelling down the broad back and cupping the taut buttocks, pressing the burgeoning erection against his own clothed form.

Secure in the demigod's grip, Iolaus brought up his legs to wrap them around the muscular waist, his arms wound tightly round his lover's neck, one hand gliding slowly under the yellow tunic to stroke the skin beneath.

It was Hercules' turn to groan, as he ground his own aching shaft, trapped beneath the confines of his leather pants, into the willing form which had attached itself to him like a limpet. He freed one hand and worked frantically on the belts, then pushed the trousers to his knees, hearing a sharp intake of breath as the turgid cock jumped free and rubbed against Iolaus' scrotum.

Heat was filling his body, centred on and around his groin and the straining penis which pointed out from therein. The demigod hefted the small body within his arms up a little, so that his cock could grind against the underside of the hunter's ass, and as it did so, the blond head fell onto his shoulder as Iolaus uttered a strangled scream.

"Herc ...!!!"

Freeing his left arm, Hercules hand forced its way between their two bodies, clutching at the blond warrior's erect penis and running his fingers across the top of it. The arms around his neck tightened even further and Iolaus emitted a series of heated breaths into his shoulder, whimpering with need. Their bodies rubbed against each other as the smaller man shifted slightly in an up and down motion, the sensation of that firm hand milking him and the firm, moist length stroking impatiently under his loins sending him reeling over the edge of ecstasy. He was no longer capable of coherent speech, but clung fervently to his partner, luxuriating in the lust which was overwhelming them both.

The demigod himself inhaled sharply as Iolaus began to buck within his embrace, and, with a strangled shriek, shot his semen upward in a pearly white fountain. Unable to wait any longer, Hercules removed his hand from his friend's shrinking erection and placed it beneath those creamy white globes, insinuating one wet finger into the aperture between, stretching it gently but firmly. Another finger joined the first, widening the tight hole, until a third finger completed the trio and pushed upward, eliciting a yelp from the direction of his shoulder, where the golden head was still buried. Iolaus' breathing was ragged and unsteady by the time the demigod had finished preparing him. He would have begged for completion, but he was now completely incapable of any speech whatsoever. The next moment, he was impaled upon Hercules' thrusting penis, and pain widened his blue eyes before it settled down into pure, unadulterated pleasure and then more, brilliant ecstasy as the pulsing member pushed in and out ruthlessly, brushing by that sweet place within him time and time again until sweet oblivion threatened the delirious torment which had overwhelmed him.

Hercules grunted as his erection entered its welcoming home. Again and again he thrust upward, his legs aching with the pressure, his arms straining, but unable to stop or even pause now that he was so close to completion himself. Up and down, in and out, he held on to the beloved form within his embrace, felt the muscles within that tight anus clamp around his burning cock until a tightening in his groin signalled his release and he spurted wave after wave of hot liquid into the waiting body of his lover.

"Oh gods ..." he moaned, tucking his face into the shoulder of the man in his arms, inhaling the fragrance which was uniquely Iolaus, breathing in and savouring it until the essence which was his beloved hunter seemed to fill him as his semen filled the small form which was wrapped around him.

"Herc ..." Iolaus could barely speak. He was gasping for breath, his heart beating wildly against the demigod's broad chest, feeling the echoing of its own pounding within Hercules' own body.

"I love you, Iolaus," Hercules whispered, gazing adoringly into the dear, flushed face of his partner, and brushing those sensuous lips with his own, pushing his tongue between them to meet and dance with its counterpart.

"I think we need a bath," Iolaus said, at length, when they broke for air. "I thought that was the intention before ..."

"I ... got a bit carried away," the demigod muttered, with an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

"No, no, don't apologise." The hunter grinned lasciviously. "That was really ... great! But - we *really* need a bath. Now I'm hot, tired, sweaty, dirty and sticky!!"

"You don't say!" The demigod laughed in delight. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

The bathtub was a large, round wooden affair, with a shape more akin to a barrel than a 'tub'. It was, however, big enough for two and hot wisps of steam still rose from the water within. Hercules had cheerfully refused to relinquish his hold on his golden lover and so Iolaus had had to submit to being carried to the bath - despite his very loud and very eloquent protests.

"In you go then," said Hercules, leaning over the tub to place the warrior in the lightly scented water. A rich aroma wafted from the tub itself - a co-mingling of sandalwood, honey, jasmine and lavendar - all conspiring to make for a very heady, intoxicating brew.

Iolaus inhaled deeply, and smiled. "Wow! When you fill a bath, Herc - you fill a bath!" He sounded impressed. Hercules grinned widely and stepped over the rim to join his lover.

"I might say the same about you," he responded, inclining his head and staring pointedly at Iolaus' groin.

The warrior sniggered, then leaned back, closing his eyes and stretching his arms around the outside of the tub, luxuriating in the feel of the warm, scented water lapping around his body. Boy, this was bliss, he decided. He could stay here forever. He allowed himself to drift for a moment or two, letting his mind wander and relaxing his body, rotating his neck a couple of times to ease it free from the stiffness which seemed to have settled there after their last bandit attack.

"Let me get that for you," came the soft offer from right in front of him. He cracked open his eyes to discover Hercules crouching close to his body, a gentle smile playing about his own tired face. "You need a massage," the demigod decided.

"No, I'm okay," said the hunter, reaching out one hand to lovingly stroke the pinched looking features, aching to remove the lines of stress from around his beloved Hercules' eyes and mouth. "You're tired as well."

"Iolaus, don't argue with me." The tone was one he'd heard before. It was Hercules' patented 'Do as I say, or you'll be sorry' tone. With a sigh, he complied and turned around, to find himself being pulled back into Hercules' lap, the demigod's strong, skilful fingers kneading into his neck and shoulders, working out the kinks and smoothing the knots which had formed there. Iolaus relaxed, then jolted slightly as he settled on his lover's strong, muscular thighs, feeling the faint stirring in the groin under his. "Gods, you're stiff," muttered Hercules into his ear, seemingly intent on his self-appointed task.

'So are you, Herc,' thought Iolaus, giggling slightly. "That's what running into bandit troops will do for you," he said, aloud. "Especially when there's so many of 'em!"

"Well, we deserve this break." The demigod leaned forward slightly as his hands worked on Iolaus' broad, muscular shoulders. His lips lowered achingly close to that corded, tantalisingly tasty throat, but he ruthlessly pulled back, before he ravished the golden warrior again right there, in the tub. Reaching behind him instead he found a bottle of honeyed oil and, unstoppering the top shook out a few drops onto the cloth which lay beside it on the table beside the bathtub. Settling himself more comfortably, with Iolaus still sitting in his lap, he began to stroke the cloth gently over the warrior's golden back, watching the muscles ripple beneath the satin skin and yearning to place his lips on the places he was caressing with the soft material.

Iolaus sighed contentedly, leaning back into the smooth strokes, tilting his head forward to allow the demigod better access to his neck, where the moist cloth lingered for long moments, cooling the heat which rose from that region, transferring it all the way down to that part of his anatomy which rested against the demigod's.

Hercules continued his ministrations with the material, sponging down the hunter's spine, removing the dust and grime which still clung to the smooth body, gently marking his territory with sweeping motions until he reached the fine buttocks, when he paused for a moment. Then, slowly, torturously, he insinuated the cloth beneath those beautifully rounded, pert little cheeks to the private parts below, exhaling deeply and uttering a soft sound of contentment as his lover jumped.

"Wha ...!"

"It's all right, Iolaus," he whispered, leaning into that fine, clean neck, pressing his lips to the moist skin and breathing in contentedly. "Relax. Just relax," he reiterated, licking where he had just washed, moving the damp tendrils of blond hair out of the way with one hand.

The smaller man slowly settled once again, but a fire had kindled deep within which was not going to be easily extinguished. He could only wait for the demigod to add more fuel to the smouldering embers and encourage the flames to burn higher.

The soft wad of material ran slowly to and fro beneath him and he could not suppress a gasp as the blazing flames licked ever higher within his groin, lapping further and further upward, making his heart race with anticipation, his blood beat loudly in his ears.

The terrible, wonderful pressure eased slightly as the cloth was removed, and the bronzed demigod slowly manoeuvred Iolaus around to face him, his azure eyes clouded with rising passion and desire, his quickened breathing more evidence, should it be required, of his increasing need.

The hunter returned the gaze, his pupils darkened and widely dilated with longing, then trembled uncontrollably as the cloth was laved tenderly across his chest, the demigod taking the utmost care over the erect little nubs of flesh which stood out firm and brown and proud. From there, the stroking motion followed the line of his body, as Hercules ensured that every inch of his lover was cleansed by the fragrant smelling cloth - lingering over the flat abdomen, pushing a corner of the flannel into the tight belly button, and plunging down toward the submerged blond curls below, where it paused for a long moment before it was wrapped around his fast filling shaft.

The feel of the material on his stiffening member brought forth a hiss of fevered breath from those thin, sensuous lips, a sound which only served to ignite the demigod's own heated core. Iolaus heard it, and took advantage of the slight hesitation it brought to Hercules' action of bathing him to wrest control of the situation away from the other man, along with the cloth.

"Your turn," he whispered, an evil glint in his gentian eyes, his mouth finding purchase on the startled lips and kissing him with brutal, bruising intensity.

Leaning across, he laid the soaking cloth across the other man's broad, tanned chest, following its path with his tongue as he saturated the demigod's firm body with the fragrant, dripping water. Hercules leaned back in the tub, his body arching up slightly as Iolaus squeezed the cloth hard, letting the droplets splash onto his muscular abdomen, then the warm, wet tongue licked the drops away, teasing its way across his smooth, browned skin, poking into *his* belly button, and breathing hotly across the dark hairs just below the water.

He almost came out of the water completely when Iolaus' sure hand found its way to his aching penis, pushing at it with the cloth, flicking it with a corner until the engorged cock began to pulse with the need to expel the seeping moisture which was nothing to do with their present location.

The blond hunter abandoned his washing of the demigod when said demigod took him tenderly in his arms and kissed him, thrusting his tongue into its other home with a force which shook them both to the core. Iolaus floated into the embrace willingly, his arms tightening around his beloved, their bodies so close together that not even the tiniest whisper of air could have come between them.

As the kiss ended, Hercules drew away from the man he loved more than life itself and he cupped that gorgeous face in his hands, staring for long moments into the limpid gentian pools in which he could see his love echoed and returned. Then they kissed again, gently, sweetly, hotly, tongues probing, meeting and twirling around each other, as the heat rose and devoured them both in a swirling maelstrom of need and desire and passion born of the purest love.

After the storm was over, they lifted their spent bodies out of the tub and, after rubbing each other briskly with two large towels, took their lovemaking to the large bed, where once again, the golden warrior and the demigod pleasured each other before falling asleep in a tangle of limbs, arms wrapped protectively around each other, one blond head cradled on one broad, bronzed chest, the chestnut haired head resting atop the burnished curls.

FINIS

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