Disclaimer - Hercules and Iolaus are the property of 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!



I CANNOT

by Martine Barratt


I
t's not possible to describe the softness of his skin; I've felt nothing like it before. Where he is concerned I have no frame of reference, no likenesses to call upon, for there is no one else like him. You could laugh and tell me that I'm acting like a father who dotes on his son, knowing him all the while to be a coward but still saying `my son, the hero' - for he is just that - his son and he is proud.

I'm not telling you that Iolaus is different simply because I adore him, I'm telling you because that IS the simple truth. He is the very essence of that which I've not found before. Oh I know he isn't perfect, he has his faults but they are infinitesimal by comparison to the greater part of him, the goodness that exudes from every pore in his soft and scarred skin.

He gives me a reason, a reason for all the heartache and suffering and I love him dearly. What man, woman or child would not wish for such a friend or lover? Who would believe such a person exists in this life? There are certainly none like him in the next.

I cannot describe the feeling I get when I'm close to him, more that just lust, though that forms a great part of my susceptibility to his aura, it is something spiritual. He is the most passionate man I have ever met, whether he uses his passion sagely or no makes little difference, it is the essence of the man himself. Deep inside him, he burns and hungers for what is right and I see it clearly, reflected in those deep blue orbs. He feels, cares and worries about humanity and nature and the balance of the world. He would make a great leader. Despite that, he's content to follow me, to be if not beside me, then behind me in all things. I sometimes worry that I cannot match his perception of me. I am but one man, half immortal or no.

When we touch, again, I cannot describe the feelings as they truly are. He's the most incredible lover, sensitive, gentle and forceful all at the same time. Bare, he moulds himself to my naked body and displays more affection and love for me than any creature known to man, his touch is ice and fire. He willingly opens himself to my hands, surrenders the force of his will to become the supplicant of mine. How lucky am I that he yields? How blessed that he possesses?

I tremble when he's compliant, slave to my desperation, my flesh melds into his. He bends and moans and shivers with desire as I use him to slake my thirst. In this desert, he is water. In the heat of passion, when our spirits run together in the wind and we are cresting towards the peak of ecstasy, I see him clearly - outlined as if in a painting; his gold hair like gossamer, his lithe and shapely body cut for my own wanton purposes, his firm thighs and strong legs made to be ridden, his cock so thick - weeping for me as mine weeps for him and in him. His eyes, gently closing in the light, liquid sea, designed to drown the strongest of men, stare back with such intense emotion that my heart stills, not one beat more would it take if he wanted it so. I would die in his gaze.

When he comes he calls my name as if in prayer and I like nothing more than to make him happy; we rock together; moan together, slide together as one being - with a force of the titans. I coat him with my essences, face, stomach, thighs, buttocks, cock; inside and out and his flesh is mine. In return he gives what he has direct to me, pulling me towards him, I suck the juices as my offering and he provides the ambrosia that sustains my life. When he enters me I could cry - so tender is the bonding. His sweat pours upon my chest with every blessed thrust and he touches a core deep inside that is just for him, only for him and he smiles because he knows that we belong.

I need him. Not just want, nor desire - I talk of need, like the crops need the sunlight or the babe needs milk. There is no world for me, save within his arms and linked to his body, and if I should not survive him I will seek him out from the next world and stay by his side - guiding and guarding, keeping him safe. I would not hasten his exit from this life; he is too important and the others would see the most delicate and vital candle snuffed from their presence. But - this I tell you truly - should he not out live me, then I will search the ends of earth; Olympus, Hades' realm and beyond until I find him and bring him home.

For I cannot tell you what he means but surely, if he leaves me.

I will die.



Return to Slash Fiction

Return to Home Page