Disclaimer - these characters are the property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures and no attempt is made to infringe the copyright thereof. We are just borrowing them and will give them back at the end of the story!

TILL DEATH ...

By Queenie


Another day, another war campaign. Maybe this would be the day that his now legendary luck ran out, Iolaus reflected ruefully to himself. Since Hercules' death six years before, Greece seemed to have fallen to pieces, or, more appropriately, torn itself apart, in some vile imitation of his own life, which had been rent asunder with his lover's demise.

That awful, dreadful, shocking day had seared his soul, shattered his heart and rendered his heretofore shining, carefree persona to a pale shadow of its former self, crushing beneath the weight of grief and longing the joy of life, the sheer exuberance of simply being.

For a long time after Hercules' death, his life had been shapeless, formless, and not even revenge against the one who had stolen his friend's life could appease the ache which constantly besieged him. Eventually, however, he had discovered within himself the ability to fight without caution for his own safety, detached from the cause and yet still capable of battling against the evils which prevailed now that the world's greatest hero was gone.

So it was that Iolaus, despite his unwillingness to adopt the mantle, despite his seeming indifference to life and all its wonders, became the one whose name inspired armies to greatness; whose courage on the field of battle encouraged all who fought alongside him; whose innate gentleness, despite the horrors around him, gave true meaning to the word 'Hero'.

And here he was, once again, embroiled in yet another conflict. It was all he seemed to do these days. All that seemed to confirm that he was still alive and breathing, that his heart was still beating - to fight, to feel the adrenaline rush, to feel his heart pounding fiercely beneath his ribs. It had taken the place of the passion of his best friend and lover - it had had to.

He spent his nights tossing and turning, trapped in a seemingly endless spiral of utter loneliness and a deep and abiding yearning - but whether for the feel of another human body - Hercules' body - or whether for death, he was never entirely sure. He only knew that each headlong rush into battle brought with it a promise, a promise which kept his hopes alive, which fed his need and yet left him unsated and ravenous for something he would never know again in this lifetime.

A sudden strident yell from outside penetrated his gloomy reflection and, with a heavy sigh, he slipped his sword from its well-worn scabbard, threw back his shoulders, and went to face yet another skirmish ...

... The battle was long, arduous and many casualties resulted from it. The Greek army had gained ground, fallen back, pushed forward and finally vanquished their opponents - but not without a heavy price.

Their unofficial leader, the bright and shining star of their battalion, whose heroics during the struggle had saved many lives, and whose fighting prowess had taken many of their enemies, had fallen. His compact, broken body, bleeding profusely from a multitude of heinous wounds, had been borne up by the victorious, grieving troops and taken back to the camp. There he was to lay for the night, whilst the respectful soldiers showed their homage by keeping a night-time vigil over his corpse.

He looked serene in death, his sword cleaned and laid beside him in honour of the vital life which had been extinguished this day; the lines of stress and heartache finally smoothed out by Celesta's kindly hand. The only signs of age remaining to crease the fine features were the laugh lines beneath the gentian blue eyes, now permanently closed, never to shine with life and laughter and joy again.

All who looked upon the dead warrior's face, however, agreed that in death, the animation which all had known existed but had rarely seen evidenced had returned in full force. And despite the anguish which his death had wrought, all were in accord when one dared to voice the opinion that the celebrated hero, Iolaus, looked far happier now than some of them had ever seen him in life.

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Charon grumbled to himself as he steered his boat into the black shore at the edge of the river, Styx. The still figure of a man lay on those ebony rocks, completely oblivious to his surroundings, utterly senseless and unaware of the boatman's rather irritated mutterings. He was picked up, literally, by the black-robed figure, and dumped rather unceremoniously into the dilapidated vessel. Then Hades' Collector of Souls eased his boat away from the rocky outcropping and back toward the other side, where a tall, muscular figure waited, his impatience tangible in the still air which pervaded the river and its surroundings.

Charon continued his muttered tirade against dead heroes, the lack of good food in Hades' realm, the job itself and the lack of decent facilities until he reached the other shore.

"Well, you wanted 'im, you got 'im," he rasped to the other man. "Don't s'pose I'll ever see payment for this. I dunno - you guys think ya can die, come here and ride across and who gets all the aggro? Ol' Charon, that's who. Ya don't appreciate the work I put in, neither does da bossman, but then, he doesn't have ta travel with me, does he ..."

Hercules shut out the droning voice and, reaching down into Charon's boat, picked up the limp figure, cradling it gently and possessively against his broad chest. For long moments, he didn't move, allowing the cherished familiarity of the flesh against his to surge through him, almost overpowering him with utter contentment and joy. At last. He could breathe again. Could live again. His heart had returned to him and he felt complete once more Then he turned on his heel and carried the unconscious man to his home in the Elysian Fields where he laid him gently and oh, so carefully on the huge bed.

With a smile of triumph, he slowly divested his lover of his garments, lingering as each piece of apparel removed uncovered more and more of the tawny skin over which he wanted nothing more than to lavish fingers, hands and tongue. By the time he had finished, his throat was aching, his heart contracting painfully at the sight of the golden body laid out before him like an offering. Then he stripped off his clothes, wrapped his lower extremities in a sheet and stretched out beside the still slumbering form, running one tender finger gently down the much loved face, savouring the feel of the familiar warm, living skin beneath his own flesh.

Eventually, the sleeper's eyelids fluttered and he stretched, cat-like, instinctively snuggling closer into the comforting warmth curled around him. "Mmm," he murmured, "Herc ..."

Then ...

"Herc??!!"

"Iolaus ..." Hercules' soft voice was filled with love and longing, exultation and relief, and Iolaus blinked rapidly, staring up in shock into the treasured and much missed azure orbs.

"Herc ..." Tears sprang unbidden to his eyes and he gratefully inhaled the fragrance of his lover, a scent he knew so well, so long absent and now, miraculously, restored to him - then he realised ...

"I ... I'm dead?"

The demigod nodded. His expression never wavered from its smile of jubilation, but it was coloured slightly by sadness on his beloved's behalf. "You died in battle. You were a hero, Iolaus, just as I always knew you were. You were a force for good and your very presence helped defeat entire armies. Your name will be revered throughout time - and rightly so. You will be honoured and loved and worshipped, but no-one will ever adore you as much as me."

Iolaus heard the speech, was even secretly thrilled by the proclamation of his fame, but his soul was touched only by Hercules' final words, his heart leapt back to life at the ardour behind them, and his very skin was responding with a tingling sensation at the touch of Hercules' hand stroking rhythmically up and down his face.

"I missed you, Herc," he said.

It was a simple statement, but it filled the demigod's heart with ecstasy so intense that it all but stopped beating for an instant. His hand paused in its exploration of the sweet face and Hercules gazed down at his beloved friend. Tears filled his eyes and obscured the golden form beneath him. Nonetheless, he leant down and met the honeyed, sensual lips with unerring accuracy. His tongue demanded and gained entrance into that moist cavern, was welcomed with desperate eagerness and engaged with its counterpart in an erotic dance which seemed to journey into infinity and beyond.

It was more than a kiss. More than a greeting. It was a homecoming, a benediction, an act of devotion given and received by each party.

Some time later, both demigod and warrior came up for air. It was necessary, lest they simply stopped breathing right there and then, expelling their last breaths into one another, fused into one being, suspended together in mid-air, tasting once again the seamless, euphoric merging of one soul rent in two by loss

"Iolaus." Hercules could barely draw breath. "Iolaus, I love you."

Their lips met again, this time delicately, tenderly, and Iolaus sank into the embrace for which he had hungered for so long, unable to hold back the emotions which were sweeping over him, capturing him in their warmth and thrusting him up into a rapture from which he never wanted his freedom. The incipient tears flowed down his face, droplets of joy, rivulets of utter bliss.

It had been years since he had allowed himself to even show any emotion, let alone wallow in it as he was now.

But now he and Hercules were finally reunited.

And he no longer cared.

The demigod kissed those salty trails away, his tongue lapping up the teardrops and savouring the sheer, unadulterated happiness which had prompted them. Their upper bodies melded together, sharing the same heartbeat, the same warmth, their very nearness inciting a depth of passion which would have been frightening had it not been so welcome.

It was at this point that Iolaus became aware that he was completely naked atop the silken sheets which covered the bed, whereas his lover ...

Herc," he began, sending one hand on an investigative quest down the muscular body, "why are you wearing a sheet?"

Hercules smiled. A silly, shit-eating grin. He looked like the cat who had got the cream - and maybe, Iolaus reflected, silently, with a stifled giggle - maybe he just would before this day (or night) was ended.

"Modesty prevails," he said, with a suggestive leer at Iolaus.

The warrior narrowed his eyes. "Oh yeah?" he said. It was not so much a question as a challenge. "Well, we'll soon see about that!"

There followed a wrestling bout on the bed which involved much laughing, a lot of giggling (especially from the blond warrior), and, eventually, the removal of the sheet which was concealing from view the rest of what Iolaus had most wanted to see.

By the time the struggle ended, the golden warrior was astride his demigod, hands splayed along the rugged chest, blue eyes wide and dilated with desire. "Wanna play, huh?" he asked, moving one hand atop a nipple and tweaking it between thumb and forefinger. The reaction this elicited from the writhing body beneath his delighted the hunter. He tweaked the brown protuberance again - harder. A harsh intake of breath, then Hercules was grinning up at him, anticipation lighting up the azure eyes. He was almost glowing from within. Iolaus realised with a start that he was seeing a reflection in his dearest friend's face of what he himself must look like. He answered the smile with a broad one of his own, before bending over to take one of the puckered nipples in his teeth, worrying it, pulling and flicking his tongue over it, until it peaked, and he could hear Hercules panting for breath.

The sound was a sweet refrain to a man starved of that particular melody for so long. Iolaus whimpered slightly, then continued on to lave his tongue over the other nipple, sucking it so hard that it gave an audible 'pop' each time he let it out of his mouth.

Hercules tasted wonderful - a distinctive earthy, musky scent which was both recognisable and yet at the same time unexpected. And Iolaus couldn't get enough of him. He wanted to sample each part of the large body beneath his own, lavishing his attention on each piece of the demigod's anatomy, leaving no area uncovered. Thus he moved further down, pulling and probing at the firm abdomen with his teeth, planting tiny kisses on each part thus chartered, running his hands slowly down his lover's sides, feeling the little shivers coursing up and down Hercules' form as intensely as if they were a part of him.

Eventually, he paused, glancing upward, to find the demigod gazing at him through hooded eyes, passion painting his face with a rose-hued flush. "I love you, Herc," he whispered, leaning forward to place his mouth demandingly on the demigod's parted lips.

Hercules arched into the kiss, one hand knotting itself in the wild tumble of golden curls, the other roaming lingeringly up and down the broad back, feeling the muscles bunching and moving beneath the creamy skin. He groaned into the kiss, a deep rumbling sound which reverberated through Iolaus who responded with another muffled whimper.

The demigod tightened his hold on the warrior, and rolled them to the left, their legs entangled, their bodies pressed as close together as it was possible for them to get.

Both were breathing heavily as the kiss continued, and they floated onto a plane far beyond reality, far away from everyday existence, their hands grasping each other feverishly, desperately, unable to get enough of each other. The kiss could not last, could surely not become any deeper; their mouths were becoming sore just by the sheer protracted contact with each other. Yet still they could not stop, not even pause for breath. This was their time. This was real. They were together again. Nothing could ever separate them again and this contact was the living proof of that.

Slowly, both became aware of an a deep and relentless ache in their groins. Iolaus was half buried beneath his lover, and could feel the demigod's erection grinding against his balls, seeking for itself that sweet place that was the only home it knew. His eyes widened as Hercules moved his body further down, pushing the bulging shaft further and further under his throbbing groin, the friction of the demigod's body against his own painfully tight cock threatening to send him over the edge. He held himself back only by sheer force of will, clenching and unclenching his ass muscles, the fire raging within him threatening to burn out of control. A stifled moan escaped, and Hercules leant back to gaze at his golden lover, gasping for breath. "You're my life," he said, softly, at length, stilling the movements of his fists, twisted in the disarrayed locks. "You're everything to me. I've waited for you for so long, Iolaus. We'll never be parted again - we have all eternity together now. I've missed you so much."

The blond hunter stared up at his love, his reason for being and smiled - a little tremulously. "I didn't know till I'd lost you what loneliness was," he responded. His voice was shaky, and the room was charged with emotion so intense that it threatened to sweep down and engulf both of them. A tidal wave of exhilaration cresting high and wide. "Now I have you back. Nothing else matters - not any more."

Their lips met again, another kiss of blinding intensity, and the inferno building within grew, its flames licking at their bodies, threatening to devour them in incandescent heat. There was no more time for talk, words between them having always been redundant in any case. Their hearts sang as their bodies writhed together, sweat and rising passion moistening their skin as they slid up and down on the increasingly rumpled bed.

Hercules broke off the kiss at length to nibble his way across the corded throat, pausing to mark his territory every so often with playful teeth and whipping tongue, then journeyed across to the warrior's ear, pulling gently at the ear-rings which still adorned the lobe. He smiled as Iolaus squirmed beneath his tender ministrations, and took the opportunity of his lover's temporary passivity to wander further down, trapping between his teeth one of the strong brown nipples which protruded from the tawny chest. He sucked on it long and hard for several moments, enjoying the reactions which his attentions were receiving, shivering slightly as he felt resourceful hands wander down his back and jerking sharply as one finger teased at his opening.

Despite the promise of pleasure in that movement, he wriggled further down, taking his buttocks out of the reach of questing digits, until he found himself at Iolaus' naval, where he inserted a teasing tongue, pushing, probing until he heard the sound that was music to his ears emerging from the lips of the man under him. He glanced upward to see that Iolaus' head was thrown back, the cords standing out in his strong throat, little gasps of passion emerging from between clenched teeth. With a feral smile, the demigod moved on; his hands having moved downwards to support the arching back, now finding a firm purchase on the slim hips as his tongue lapped across the purpling head of the straining cock standing upright in its nest of golden curls.

Iolaus almost shot off the bed as he probed more deeply in the weeping slit, and when his mouth engulfed the entire length, sucking and pulling, exploring every ridge, every contour which made it uniquely Iolaus', the warrior let out a scream which would have woken the dead - had the dead been sleeping.

Bucking furiously, Iolaus was held down only by the demigod's strong grip on his hips, as Hercules continued sucking his painfully tight shaft, then he could no longer ignore the incredible tension in his groin and he came with another scream, spurting a hot liquid jet of purest white straight into the demigod's eager orifice.

For long moments after he spasmed uncontrollably in Hercules' embrace, breathing heavily, unable to draw sufficient air to form words. Then he felt the hardness of his lover's own unfulfilled desire pressing against his groin again and instinctively spread his legs wide, opening himself to the demigod.

"Yes," was all Hercules was capable of saying in a hoarse whisper, as he removed one hand from behind Iolaus and, fumbling on the table beside the bed, uncorked the small bottle of oil which had appeared there. He covered his hands with the sweet-smelling stuff, which smelt pleasantly of almonds, then, finding the aperture, pushed one finger in, slowly, stretching and widening his love's anus in readiness. Another finger was quick to join in, forcing itself past the fleshy muscles, upwards, seeking, searching until the inevitable third digit uncurled and pressed in and soon, Iolaus was panting in need, his eyes almost black with desire.

"Herc ..." he managed, through gritted teeth, forcing his body to remain still, fighting the urge to start bucking again, and therefore dislodging the painful yet erotic pressure within him.

With a groan, Hercules removed his fingers, and, quickly coating his burning cock with oil, pushed past the first ring of muscle. He forced himself to pause, laying his head upon a broad shoulder, whilst small hands reached up to run trembling fingers through his hair.

"Herc, please ..." gasped Iolaus, burying his own head in the crook of the demigod's neck, his eyes closed tightly against the initial pain, even whilst his mind screamed 'More!'

"Oh gods ... I love you, Iolaus," managed Hercules, and thrust upward, past the point of pain, past the point of pleasure, until he reached the domain where ecstasy resided, and Iolaus let out a strangled yelp, his hands tightening in the demigod's long mane, his legs wrapped tightly around Hercules' waist. They lay quiescent for a moment, Hercules finally imbedded within his golden hunter's body - the place he had longed for for so many years - Iolaus' whole body taut with need and desire as he was finally filled with his demigod's magnificent member. Then sensation overtook them both as Hercules drove up and down relentlessly, brushing by Iolaus' prostate time and time again, sending his lover into a sweet agony of utter ecstasy, and bringing both of them to the brink too many times to count before, finally, Iolaus miraculously refilled penis ejaculated once again as another orgasm overtook him, and the convulsions of his body brought Hercules to climax, his semi-divine seed filling the hunter's anus.

As they drifted slowly back to earth, Hercules eased out of Iolaus incrementally, but a movement from the groggy hunter, as his strong slim legs drew ever more firmly around the demigod, kept the larger man's shaft enclosed within its home.

Iolaus was drifting off to sleep in his arms, perfectly content to remain thus.

"Iolaus ..."

"No," mumbled the drowsy hunter, smiling against Hercules' chest, his arms encircling the demigod's torso, almost crushing his lover. "Don' move ..."

Hercules smiled in return, one hand lovingly stroking the tousled, damp, silken hair. His left arm was tucked securely around the smaller man's waist, pulling him as close to himself as he could, feeling their two hearts beating in tandem and uttering a long sigh of complete fulfilment.

"Don't think I will," he said, planting a kiss on top of the blond head. "Think I'll stay here forever."

"Tha's good ..." came the almost indistinct murmur. "Cos we've got forever ..."

With a deep sigh of contentment, the two lovers, together again at last, inseparable forever, fell asleep ...

END

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