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!
The Challenge ...
Prop : Dite's Shell
Person : Autolycus
Place : The Beach
Piece of clothing : the Blue 'jammies' (whimper!)
Position : Hercules' lap
SHELL SHOCKED
by Queenie
It was a perfect summer's day.
The glorious golden sun gilded the lapis lazuli sky, sending bright shards
of light skittering across the landscape below, mirrored a thousand times
over in the sparkling crystal of the dancing waves as they undulated and
surged in huge white clouds of glittering moisture over the dark sable sand
of the shoreline.
The lilting crash of the breaking foam formed a harmonic background to the
wild call of the seagulls as they flew over the brightly prismed ocean,
sweeping down in ever decreasing circles, performing their graceful, erratic
dance over and over for the audience of one.
Hercules was oblivious to the beauty of the day, however; paid scant attention
to the harsh, strident cries of the birds as they swooped and soared, increasing
their flight path here, diminishing their circular motion there. He was
deep in contemplation, his azure eyes trained first on the distant horizon,
then, to his left, on the promontory of blackened rock which jutted out
into the dancing waves, covered every so often by a crash of foam as the
surf cascaded onto its outer rim.
He was waiting.
He seemed to have been waiting for ever.
Of course, forever was a relative term.
And speaking of 'relatives' ...
Aphrodite.
He was actually quite fond of his little sister. Sure, she could be petulant,
capricious and as annoying as hell, but she was one of the best out of the
bunch of Olympians who were his family.
But right now she was not at the top of his Solstice card list.
And sitting there, on the black shingled beach, just out of reach of the
vast breakers which were rolling further and further up the coastline, was
the reason why.
Her damned shell.
Why she couldn't send the damned thing back to Olympus or just make it disappear
as she did with other objects when she wasn't using them he didn't know
and hadn't had the opportunity to ask. She had collared him on his way here,
begged him to look after it for her whilst she went to take care of a little
quarrel between two young lovers who had been unfortunate enough to become
entangled with one of Autolycus's wild schemes and, having been falsely
imprisoned for theft, had then proceeded to blame each other instead of
the real culprit, then, in a twinkling, aureate shower, had disappeared.
That form of travel was actually the only thing he envied in the rest of
his family. And now here he was, sitting on the beach, sighing heavily,
his gaze alternating moodily between her blasted mode of travel and the
rocks beyond.
It was no wonder he did not appreciate the day's beauty.
**********************
Iolaus was whistling cheerfully as he clambered down the moss-covered crag,
his appreciative gaze drinking in the wondrous sight of the racing turquoise
ocean and smiling as the seabirds' melodic chorus sang above the tuneful
sound of the rolling waves.
His smile wavered a bit when he spotted the familiar figure hunched on the
sand, looking like he'd just lost his best friend. His cheerful disposition
re-asserted itself as he realised that he could remedy that situation in
an instant and he increased his pace, eager to reach the brooding demigod.
"Hi, Herc," he said, as he approached the silent, mournful looking
figure. "What's up?"
His words elicited a gasp from the son of Zeus as Hercules swung round to
face him, his gloomy expression swiftly transforming into a blazing smile
of greeting. "Iolaus!" he exclaimed, joyously. "Finally!"
"Oh, been waiting long, have you?" the blond hunter teased him
as he was enveloped in an enthusiastic and somewhat bone crunching hug.
"Herc ... the ribs!"
"Oh ... sorry." Hercules stepped pack apace to survey the golden
vision before him, his eyes travelling appreciatively over the tawny, sculpted
chest, down the firmly muscled abdomen and stopping at the waistband of
the blue, multi-hued pants which clung enticingly to the lower half of the
hunter's gleaming, tanned torso. "Iolaus ... what are you wearing?"
The blond warrior frowned for a moment, then suddenly realised that he was
still garbed in the billowing pants which he had been given by the cult
members in the Lost City. He had removed the tunic when the heat of the
day had made it too uncomfortable to wear any longer, clinging as it was
to all the damp parts of his upper body. "Oh, this," he replied,
pulling at the sash distractedly. "I ... um .. it's a long story, Herc."
"It must be," said the demigod, softly, reaching out one finger
to tenderly trace the healing cut which still marked his friend's fine features.
"Are you all right?"
Iolaus shrugged. "I'm fine." A shudder which he could not suppress
tore through him at the memory of the wheel and Kamaros' attempt at brainwashing
him. It had all but succeeded and it was only by sheer strength of will,
not to mention the mind techniques he had learned in the East that he had
managed to resist. "I'm just fine," he repeated, noticing the
speculative gaze with which his best friend was regarding him.
Hercules was not entirely convinced of this. There were shadows in those
gentian blue eyes which had not been there before their parting a week ago.
However, he knew better than to question Iolaus' sincerity. If there was
anything to tell, then his friend would share it with him eventually. Iolaus
could never keep anything from him for long.
Masking his concern with an appraising stare, Hercules grinned. "Nice
outfit," he commented. "It goes with your eyes."
"What - the dashes of mauve and violet?" queried the blond, laughing,
relieved that his partner was not going to push him to reveal the details
of his latest solo adventure, not quite sure how he was going to explain
it to his friend, but knowing that at some stage, he was going to have to.
At least before they met up with Salmoneous again. The plump little merchant
would delight in regaling the demigod with the exaggerations of this latest
incident and Iolaus wanted to make damned sure that Hercules had all the
real facts at his disposal before listening to Salmoneous's somewhat loose
version of the truth. Besides, Hercules would be hurt if he heard it from
the other man before it came from Iolaus' own lips.
"Actually, I was thinking more in terms of the pink and yellow bits,"
came the demigod's swift rejoinder, aiming a friendly punch at the hunter's
exposed shoulder and missing as his friend stepped out of the way.
"Thanks," came the dry retort. "You make me sound like a
demented rabbit."
"Well, you can be demented, certainly, and let's face it, Iolaus, sometimes
you remind me of a rabbit."
"Ah..." The golden warrior smiled broadly. "You mean the
way I fuck?"
"That too."
"What d'you mean 'that too'??" Iolaus pretended indignation. "You're
saying I look like a rabbit?"
"Well, you have to admit," murmured Hercules, who had stepped
closer to the smaller man and was in the process of placing featherlight
kisses across the bronzed shoulders, his large hands grasping the slim hips
securely, "you are cute, and your hair is fluffy and ..."
"..I have big ears?" interjected the blond, stifling a gasp as
the well-practised lips travelled further afield, moving up his corded throat
and toward the back of said protuberances.
"Actually ... very ... nice ... ears ..." the demigod assured
him, inbetween kisses. And ... very nice ... other things ... as well ..."
Iolaus bit back a whimper as Hercules mouth closed on a nipple, tugging
and pulling at it until it stood practically to attention, He was just about
to render the same treatment to the other one when ...
C-R-U-N-C-H!!!!!!
Both men whipped their heads round in the direction of the terrible noise
and Hercules groaned at the sight which met their dual gaze.
Aphrodite's shell, left unattended and unguarded, had been caught in a particularly
huge tidal surge and was now lying on its side, its back broken, the straps
which she used to guide its progress through the waves hanging limply out
and trailing pathetically in the sand.
"Hercules!!!"
"Uh - oh - you're in trouble now, big guy!" Iolaus said, sniggering,
as an outraged Goddess of Love suddenly appeared in a spitting shower of
sparks.
"Shut up, Iolaus," muttered Hercules under his breath. Turning,
he smiled hesitantly at the undoubtedly beautiful but extremely angry blonde
Olympian. "Uh - sorry, 'Dite," he said. "I - guess I wasn't
paying attention."
"Darned right you weren't!" she snapped. She tossed her mane of
golden curls back as she advanced upon him, aquamarine eyes, echoing the
colour of the dancing waves, flashing. "You just ... you just - look
at my shell! Look at it! I ... oh, hi, Sweetcheeks." She flashed a
brilliant smile in Iolaus's direction, then suddenly paused, looked from
one to the other speculatively and the next instant, let loose a peal of
laughter which caused several of the seagulls flying overhead to swoon helplessly
and plummet into the ocean. "Oh ... I get it," she said, thoughtfully.
"You and he are ... and you were .. when my shell was ... oh ..."
"We're sorry, 'Dite," Iolaus apologised, taking one delicate little
hand within his own and placing a featherlight kiss on the back of it. "I
guess if you want to blame someone, then it should be me."
"Oh, I could never blame *you* for anything, curly." She giggled,
then gazed at him appraisingly for a long moment. "You know, you look
*really* good in that colour ..."
"'Dite ..." growled Hercules warningly.
"Oh all right," she conceded, grudgingly, "I won't yell at
you this time, even if you did, like, completely wipe out my *favourite*
clam! I didn't know you were going to be distracted by Sweetcheeks here,"
she went on, aiming her most engaging smile at the blond warrior and feeling
a distinct sense of satisfaction as he visibly wilted a tad beneath her
obvious charms. "You should've said something, Hercules."
"You didn't give me a chance," he pointed out, ruefully. "I
barely even got to say 'hello'!"
Aphrodite shrugged carelessly. "Bummer," she said. "Okay,
guys, must fly. Having dinner with Hephie tonight - gotta make myself look
beautiful."
"You already look beautiful," said Iolaus, somewhat wistfully,
then remembered who he was addressing and gave himself a mental shake. "Besides,"
he continued, more firmly, "Haephestus wouldn't care if you turned
up filthy, dusty and wearing an old rag. He loves you, 'Dite."
"Oooh .. you are sweet," she cooed, reaching out one perfect finger
to stroke his cheek, removing it with a jerk as Hercules bristled. "I'm
blowing this joint," she said. "Byee!"
As she winked out of existence in a shower of shimmering golden dust, Hercules
turned back to his friend and lover. "You already look beautiful?"
he growled.
Iolaus shrugged. "Herc, you can call your sister many things - and
believe me, if you haven't, I certainly have - but she's definitely beautiful.
What? You wanted me to lie?"
"No." The demigod sighed heavily. "But don't let her take
advantage of you, Iolaus. She's *very* good at it, remember - and I thought
you had more sense."
"I have," Iolaus told him, stepping forward to wind his arms around
his friend's firm waist. "There's only one person I allow to take advantage
of me - and I'll give you three guesses as to who that is."
Hercules groaned as his partner's searching fingers probed the top of his
pants, slipping inside the waistband and running lightly up and down his
spine. "Do I get a prize for ... the right answer?" he asked,
breathlessly, running his own hands up and down that smooth torso, rejoicing
in the feel of that silken skin beneath his questing digits.
"Yeah," came the response, as the blond warrior made his own foray
into the broad, lightly furred chest of his best friend, then turned his
face upward and gazed lovingly into the azure eyes. "Me."
"Iolaus ..." The demigod could no more resist that expression
on his friend's mobile features than he could turn back the ocean, and he
leant down to meet those sensuous lips, probing with his tongue until it
gained entry into that sweet mouth, engaging with its counterpart in a duel
for dominance. Iolaus melted against him and Hercules was lost, forgetting
all else except the body in his arms - his friend, his brother, his lover.
His arms tightened around the compact, muscular form and they sank to the
ground, barely aware of the rough sand beneath them as they re-acquainted
themselves with each other.
"I hope these come off as easily as the leather ones," Hercules
mumbled as he ran his hands up one slender leg, the unfamiliar silken material
riding softly against his skin.
"I'm sure you'll manage," came the throaty response, as Iolaus
reached up to remove the demigod's tunic and then began working on his leather
pants. "Damned sight better than these are, anyway. Did I ever tell
you how much I hated these pants?"
"Several times." Hercules had decided to forego convention and
had begun to remove the sash holding Iolaus' pants up with his teeth. This
put his mouth and nose into contact with the warrior's flat, muscular abdomen
and the mere touch of his lover's lips and the warmth of his breath on that
sensitised area was threatening to send Iolaus reeling to the edge. "Hold
still," he admonished as the smaller man squirmed beneath these ministrations.
"I'm almost there."
"So ... so am I!" gasped Iolaus, arching his back as his lover's
teeth found a particularly vulnerable spot, and almost forgoing the task
of removing Hercules' clothing.
Hercules laughed, and continued to tear the sash off with his teeth, holding
the silk in a firm grip and ripping it off the tight waist.
Thus freed, the light, billowing material fell away from the firm body and
it was a mere matter of pulling them down to free the burgeoning erection
which had been barely concealed below their scant cover.
The demigod would never get used to his partner's golden beauty. From the
top of his burnished blond hair to the tip of his bronzed toes, Iolaus was
the epitome of gilded perfection, and nowhere more so than here, at the
centre of that wonderful body, where the tight thatch of fair curls did
nothing to hide the glorious size of his now straining cock.
The son of Zeus kicked off his boots with an effort and, with eager fingers
lending a hand, removed his own pants. His own penis was quivering with
need and he lost himself for a moment in the liquid blue of Iolaus's eyes,
which were awash with longing and desire. Then he bent himself to the task
at hand, the feel of the smooth torso below his own body sending ripples
of lust surging through him.
Iolaus reached upward, lacing one hand in the long, fine, chestnut hair,
allowing the other to roam freely over the broad back, feeling every contour,
recognising every dip and curve as his fingers meandered over muscles and
bone and taut skin.
As they kissed and explored each others' bodies, so their desire increased
in intensity. Then Hercules paused and, sliding both hands beneath his lover,
manuouevred him up so that Iolaus was sitting in his lap, the hunter's strong
arms wrapped around the taller man's neck. The son of Zeus slowly moved
his hands down to cup the firm buttocks and, with one probing finger, moistened
with the fluid from his own seeping erection, found that puckered hole,
and entered it. Iolaus gasped and his head fell onto the demigod's strong
shoulder. Hercules could feel him trembling and ran his other hand gently
up and down one soft, downy cheek. Once this single digit was encased within
that tight entrance, he pressed another one in, continuing his tender stroking
as his lover gasped and shuddered slightly.
They remained thus for a long moment
until the demigod began thrusting with his fingers and the blond head tucked
into his shoulder was thrown back, the tousled blond curls bouncing up and
down in rhythm with what his fingers were doing within Iolaus's anus. The
golden warrior's body jerked as the fingers probed deeper with each thrust
and a strangled scream was ripped from the straining throat as they located
and brushed by that sweet place within him.
Before Iolaus could attain orgasm, Hercules slipped his fingers from their
home and, supporting the hunter with one arm behind the rippling back, eased
him up and turned him around, setting him down slowly, positioning him so
that as he sank back onto the demigod's lap, Hercules' aching cock entered
the already prepared anus.
The fair head fell back against his shoulder, soft, golden curls tickling
the hollow of his throat. Iolaus moaned, and moaned again as Hercules took
his shaft in one strong hand, stroking it lovingly, running his finger over
the tip, and down the length of it. With one arm wrapped around that magnificent
tawny chest, Hercules started to pump in and out of the tight aperture between
the perfectly formed buttocks, and soon, the only sounds were their mutual
groans and sighs as they undulated and rocked, their swelling need coursing
through them, racing towards completion, until finally, with a hoarse cry.
Hercules tensed and sent his semen shooting upward into his lover's body,
Iolaus spurting his own milky white liquid in a cascading fountain, dripping
down over Hercules hand and onto his own slender thighs.
Slowly, the demigod pulled out of the smaller man, and, turning him around
again, kissed him thoroughly. He stretched his legs out before him, easing
Iolaus onto his muscular thighs, as Iolaus' own slim legs stretched out,
behind the demigod. The kiss seemed to last forever, then was ended, and
he pulled the blond warrior into a firm embrace, holding him against his
body as though he would never let him go.
"Nice homecoming," murmured Iolaus, some time later, arms tightly
wrapped around the demigod, head still resting against the broad shoulder,
and quite content to stay there for as long as Hercules would have him.
"Beats looking after a damned shell any day," came the laughing
response.
"Well, just so long as I know where I figure on your list of priorities."
Iolaus tried to sound wounded but failed miserably. He knew his demigod
too well to fall for the noncholance which he was attempting. Hercules needed
him. He knew that. Which was okay, because he needed Hercules.
As he allowed himself to drift, he pondered on the ordeal through which
he and the other members of the cult had been put and decided that it wasn't
important enough to keep a secret. He would tell Hercules about it later
tonight ... unless, of course, he was too busy ...
Finis
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