Other Fan Fiction ❯ Blame It on the Wine ❯ A Little Breaking and Entering Never Hurt Anyone ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Title: Blame it on the Wine

Author/pseudonym: Cheyenne Dancer

Fandom: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys

Pairing: Autolycus/Ares

Rating: NC-17

E-mail address for feedback: cheyenedgr@aol.com (feedback and/or critique welcomed, flames used to feed the muses)

Series/Sequel: No

Disclaimers: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys and Autolycus are actually owned by Renaissance, Universal and whomever else received creative rights. They don't belong to me, I wish they did. Especially big dark brooding War Gods... As I understand it, Ares is in the public domain. So, maybe we can make a deal.. I make no money off this work of fanfiction. If you sue, you'll be collecting from my ghost. It would take *that* long. Trust me.

Additional Notes: I adore Kevin Smith. He was a funny, loving wonderful man. I grieve with all of his fans and wish that time could be turned back.

Notes: Thanks go to my wonderful betas: Huntress and Melinda, who put up with tons of errors to help me. ^_^ I made several changes after I received the story parts back, so any errors are mine.

// represents thoughts

Summary: Autolycus trespasses and must pay the price

Warnings: I tend to write dark stories, this is no exception. It contains elements of BDSM, rape, non-con, coerced sex (however you wanna say it) and the victim turning to his tormentor for comfort. NO DEATH.

Category: First Times, PWP

Other comments: I wrote this story for a challenge on the Hercules list I belonged to at the time. It was once posted to Fanfic.net but they do not take M rated stories any more.

Cheyenne

Miscellaneous: Other Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 09.29.2014 | Pages: 15 | Words: 5.5K | Visits: 232 | Status: Work In Progress

Chapter 1 - A Little Breaking and Entering Never Hurt Anyone

By Cheyenne Dancer

Never, never, never enter a drinking contest with a God. Especially when that God was Dionysus.

What in Tartarus had he been thinking?

Hadn't been, he had to admit to himself, had already been deep in the Elderberry wine, when dear old Di, the God of all drunken revelers, had approached him in all amiability and flattery, Autolycus had only been too willing to listen... and appreciate.

After all, the subject had been his favorite... himself, and his self-proclaimed skills.

Which brought him back to just where he was... in the courtyard to Aphrodite's temple. Flowing like the God of Shadows, himself, he slunk across the flagstones... past the fluttering flames held aloft in stone nymph's hands... through the stone portal guarded by marble satyrs, gliding stealthily into the heart of Aphrodite's stronghold.

Lush tropical vegetation swayed in a gentle breeze inside the sacred Temple. Huge moon shaped flowers in impossible hues bobbed and danced, doubling their stems and scraping the floor.

A few scattered torches against the temple walls held sway over the dark of the moon so that the interior seemed to be cast in an eternal dusk. Braziers hung on long silver chains about a hole cut like a starburst in the center of the roof. Frankincense and Myrrh drifted heavy on the air, promising a night of fleshly passion.

The path through the plants and bushes was well-marked, a path of pale white flagstones set into the mosaic of tile patterned across the floor of the Temple. An assortment of divans was scattered throughout in various nooks and crannies created by the twists and turns within.

Small night creatures scuddered from the path as Autolycus moved cautiously through the greenery. Cicadas sang their song of eternal summer, hushing at his approach and bursting back into full glorious cry as he wended his careful way along the path towards where he knew the altar lay.

Autolycus noted that some magics must be in use here, as the Temple seemed much larger within than it ever had without.

A small flock of brilliantly plumaged birds scattered from his path, causing the thief to start and take a small bit of cloth to mop at the sweat trickling down his face.

The birds settled only a few branches from him, watching with dark beady eyes, judgement sitting in their very regard.

"Just a flock of birds. What do they know of Gods and humans?" His voice sank into the dimness.

He called himself six kinds of a fool, even while his heart surged with the recklessness of his quest. When Dionysus had made his challenge, even deep in his cups, there was no way that Autolycus could have refused.

The familiar rush of excitement thrummed through his body as he contemplated his task.

He was truly the King of Thieves, if he could steal the fabled golden feather from Aphrodite's very altar.

"I love a challenge." He whispered to himself, shrugging off the unease as the whisper disappeared in the plant enshrined interior as if swallowed by the River Styx. Even the Cicadas had fallen silent.

He did not want to know why Dionysus wanted the feather. No. Did not. It was better for mortals not to get involved in the affairs of the Gods. And where had been this bit of wisdom last night? Maybe he *should* have asked why Dionysus wanted the feather.

He refused to give in to that bit of curiosity as he hesitated before the pink altar with it's gilt trim and a statue of Aphrodite standing nymph provocateur above it, arms spread in welcome, hip canted in invitation like a vestal virgin. Incense hung heavy on the perfumed air, reminding him more of a Sultan's seraglio than a temple to the Goddess of Love.

How he knew what the inside of the seraglio was like, was another story. He allowed the pleasant memories to dance briefly through his mind.

He grinned, giving the statue of the Goddess a very thorough examination. The sculptor had an amazing eye for detail. He ran a hand lovingly along the curve of shoulder and breast exposed by an artfully fallen fold of cloth. Oh yeah, hubba... hubba...

Aphrodite was one of his all-time favorite Gods... er Goddesses... right after Hermes... or well, honestly maybe before Hermes. He considered the supple curves and long lean limbs and amended definitely before Herm, but he didn't have to let Hermes in on that little secret, did he?

His grin stretched as he let his voice whisper out into the unfriendly shadows, more bravado than courage, "Maybe I can get the sculptor to make me a miniature Aphrodite to play with." This thought, too, he judged safest to keep to himself. Never could tell what Gods would find offensive. They were such a touchy, humorless bunch.

He did a slow double take as he realized the stone beneath his hand was unexpectedly warm to touch. He jerked his hand back as if burned by a firebrand. He peered up at the unseeing stone, not sure whether he imagined laughing blue eyes peering back or not. A shiver danced along his spine.

Nerves. Had to be nerves. He'd been in this business too long to let nerves get the best of him. He gave the statue another long thoughtful look before deciding to get on with business.

A deep sigh feathered through his lips as he slowly wound his way around the altar, avoiding the unnerving warmth of the marble Goddess, checking carefully for any traps.

"Seems to be just sitting pretty, waiting for old nimble fingers to just add it to his cap" He nearly laughed out loud at his own humor, but decided he didn't like the lack of echoes, even though it boded well for tonight's business.

He reached across the altar and gingerly plucked the feather from the cool surface, letting the harpy feather he had carefully colored, take its place. There, with luck, no one would be the wiser.

"Oh Auto, you have been a bad boy!" Small spheres of light began to fill the Temple roof, until it blazed like the noon day sun. Ferns and wide splayed leaves whipped back and forth in a conjured wind.

The handsome thief jerked back from the altar guiltily, shoving the feather into his belt behind his back. Autolycus felt his heart jump from his chest into his throat, the rapid tattoo threatening to choke him.

He stared disbelievingly at the stone statue, now slowly de-solidifying, the stone melting and re-shaping itself into whatever it is that Gods were made of.

"Gads, 'Dite! You nearly scared me to death!"

She looked at him disapprovingly. "I thought we were friends, Auto. I thought you liked me."

"We are, I do…"

"You have something that belongs to me."

"I do?" Autolycus gave her his most innocent expression, flashing an endearing grin, dark eyes sparkling.

Aphrodite stamped one slender sandaled foot, "You have cost me quite a bit with this stunt, Auto. And I am very unhappy. You want to see what the feather is for? Good! Be it on your head. You come into my temple to take what belongs to me... well the first to enter my temple this day will take what belongs to you in my name!"

Aphrodite gestured angrily at Autolycus. The dark thief felt a chill pass through him, causing him to arch his back and stand on tiptoe. Then the cold and Aphrodite were gone in a slew of sparkling hearts. And then darkness.

Autolycus had never known 'Dite to be so snippy. This was not a Good Thing. He glanced hastily about the darkened temple and watched as the few lit torches guttered and flickered out one by one.

He decided that the better part of valor was to get the Tartarus out of the Temple before whomever 'Dite summoned decided to enter. He raced back the way he had come, crashing through bushes and leafy plants that seemed to grasp and pull at his ankles and clothes. Suddenly, it was no longer a lovely garden of love, but a dark and dangerous jungle, the likes of which were spoken of in hushed tales of Phrygia.

He ran full tilt into a stone wall and bounced backward, rubbing his head.

"Ow! C'mon, 'Dite! It was just a little joke... a wager between men... I wouldn't keep it... not really." His plaintive tones were sucked into the shadows.

He sighed heavily, "Women! Can never take a joke, almost as bad as Gods! Sheesh!" He kept his thoughts away from the fact that he had managed to cross both, this time.

He pivoted, placing his hands on the wall, nimble fingers searching across the cool impervious stone for any discrepancy in the surface. He followed along, tapping quietly, retracing his steps, frustration warring with a slight welling of panic deep within his breast. "Of all the stupid, stupid things to do... I know there's a door here... I just need ... to ... find... "

He knocked into a bench he could have sworn had been on the other side of the room. He began to feel very much like an Athenian thrown alone, abandoned in the labyrinth of the Minotaur.

"Fuck."

A deep laugh shivered through him, "Maybe, if you play your cards right."

Autolycus whirled around peering into the gloom. His heart had rejoined his tonsils and they seemed to be embracing quite madly. "Who?"

Torches flared to life with God-fire, and Autolycus, now, wished fervently that it had remained dark. The red glare was eerie and cast no shadows, pushing back the darkness until he, Aphrodite's altar and Ares stood within a circle of blood-colored light.

The red glow seemed to focus on the God of War, emanating from him. Ares moved through the temple with cat-like grace, his hooded eyes focused through thick dark lashes on Autolycus. The God was clad in black leather from head to foot, a wide metal studded belt at his waist. An aura of danger seemed to flow and curl about him, like Medusa's snakes.

Ares looked about the temple, one lip quirking up as he took in the wealth of flora surrounding the pink gilt marble altar and the stone Goddess. "I have got to talk to 'Dite about her interior decorator." The dark brooding eyes settled on Autolycus like a physical touch.

The mortal shivered in apprehension. "Oh man, could this get any worse?"

Ares quirked an eyebrow at Autolycus as he prowled towards the wary thief.

"I didn't say that aloud, did I?" With a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, he wondered what Ares was up to.

"Are you talking to me, mortal?" Ares taunted, dark eyes slowly roving over Autolycus in a manner that made the fine hairs on the back of the thief's neck slowly rise.

"Uh, hello, Ares, fancy meeting you... here." Autolycus backed up slowly, until he was at the edge of the crimson circle and found, to his dismay, that he could go no further. The God-fire thrummed like the beat of some massive pulse, its touch searingly cold even through Autolycus' green over-tunic and jerkin.

"Crimson... scarlet is really... so you. Very warlike. Much in keeping with your image..." He smiled placatingly, slinking around the circumference of the circle, keeping his eyes on the War God.

Ares snorted. "Save your flattery for someone who might be tempted to listen."

"O-kay. This is going well." He stumbled backwards over the forgotten bench and ended ass over teakettle on the flagstones.

He found himself staring up the length of shiny black boots, up the dark leggings, past a prominent bulge -//do not go there, Do Not go there//- across the expanse of leather clad chest into dark humored eyes twinkling with an emotion Autolycus thought it better not to interpret.

Ares reached down and hauled the supine thief up by his collar, shaking him much as a warrior would an errant pup. Autolycus twisted in his grasp, seeking escape.

"Hey! Easy on the threads! I'll have you know this is rare Theban silk... "

Ares swung him negligently against the barrier created by the pulsing red light. "You talk too much."

Autolycus felt as if his head had been slammed through a stone wall. He gasped, going limp in the God's grasp, blinking up dazedly at his captor. He licked his lips, ignoring how Ares' dark gaze latched on the journey of his tongue about his lips.

Aphrodite said that something of his would be taken. His life? Surely 'Dite wasn't --couldn't be -- anywhere near as viciously vindictive as Hera?

He shuddered as he looked deeply into Ares' burning gaze. "You want the feather? Here, let me... it's no trouble... not damaged... at all. Never even left the temple."

He pulled the cursed object from his belt brandishing it sword-like beneath Ares' chin.

Ares laughed, plucking the golden feather from Autolycus' shaking fingers. "Not so easy, is it, little mortal, to steal from a God?"

"Steal?" Autolycus all but squeaked, clearing his throat and trying again, "Oh, no. You've got it all wrong. Not steal... borrow... borrow, yes.... never steal, not from ..."

Ares lowered his head, bringing their bodies uncomfortably close, pinned as Autolycus was against the God-fire. Ares' breath tickled warm against his cheek, amusement clearly written across the dark God's face, "A God? What about Hermes? And his sandals?"

"Is that what all this is about? I never... “He gulped shuddering in a breath as he was slammed backwards again. "Just... a joke... I gave... them back." He rasped. "Come on, Ares! You're a man --er-- God -- whatever, I'm sure you've played a joke or three in your time!"

Ares bent Autolycus head backwards, until his Adam's apple felt like a spear tip trying to saw its way through the too thin flesh of his neck. "Don't presume, little mortal, it's not becoming."

Autolycus gulped in a painful swallow of air, squeezing his eyes closed as he concentrated on breathing and not strangling on his own spit. Breathe in. Breathe out.

He splayed his hands across the rock hard chest, and pushed. He might as well try moving Mount Olympus for all the good it did. He felt the leather heat beneath his sweaty palms. //Oh yeah, never let them see you sweat... good advice if you're not up close and personal with the God of War!//

"All right. All right. Let's get down to business. You don't want the feather. 'Dite doesn't care about it. I'm to be punished for poaching on Divine property. What do you want? I could swear an oath to 'Dite... or you... I could work for you..." Autolycus wished his voice hadn't come out quite so desperate.

Ares nuzzled along Autolycus' neck, turning to follow the line of the thief's neck with his lips. "I don't need thieves."

Autolycus squawked as Ares bit him at the juncture of throat and shoulder. "Hey. Enough of that! I'm a little old for a catamite, don't you think?" He batted uselessly at the War God's hands, hoping to get Ares to drop him.

Ares ignored him and licked the blood away from the bite that marked Autolycus. An evil grin danced across the darkly handsome face at the thief's involuntary shiver.

"What do you want? What are you here for?" Panic was beginning to dance the Bacchanal through Autolycus' belly and up his spine. He didn't like the answers that his inner scribe was coming up with.

Ares pressed his larger body against the mortal's, grinning evilly. "I'm here to make sure you make proper amends to my little sister. And I... just... might... enjoy... this." Ares accented each of his last few words with a savage thrust of his leather clad pelvis.

Ares allowed Autolycus to squirm out of his hold, smiling with the indulgent amusement one has for a well-trained beast. Autolycus took off across the circle, trying to put as much space between them as the God-defined barrier would allow.

Autolycus refused to meet the God's heated gaze, his eyes sliding sideways, desperately seeking some chink in the enchanted circle. "I'm more than willing to pay homage to 'Dite. And beg her forgiveness and her blessings. I mean," he spread his hands wide at shoulder height, "Hey, she's a wonderful girl, woman... person... God... Goddess.... and what would I do without love, right?"

Ares clucked his tongue sadly shaking his head. "Too late, little mortal."

"Really. Really, Ares. Tell 'Dite I'm sorry. Ask her what she wants from me. I mean you have an in with her. She's your sister. I'll even settle down. Yeah. That's the ticket, woman of her choice... pledge eternal fidelity, and she should love that! It'll even get Hestia into the act."

Ares stalked across the room, slamming various obstacles out of the way, his dark eyes burning. The heat of that gaze pinned Autolycus immobile, frozen like a rabbit in one of Iolaus' traps.

Ares' voice rumbled through the temple, echoing where Autolycus' own voice was lost, sending shivers of heat dancing in counterpoint to the frozen God-fire at the thief's back.

"You don't need someone you can manipulate, little mortal."

End Part 1