Drag Me Up

by RM Virtues

  “Uncle,” Dio’s voice booms once the music lowers. “Will you please direct your attention to the southern corner and your beautiful girlfriend, please?”

  Everyone follows the instruction, and Persephone’s eyes gleam when Hades finds her. He begins moving closer as Dio also demands that Eros join him, and they reach the platform at the same time. Hades is immediately smitten with the model, calling out his excitement and hugging the younger man to everyone’s surprise as people clap and cheer. It is impossible not to emulate Hades’ energy, and Persephone is beginning to wonder if maybe, he and Dio aren’t all that different at all when they’re comfortable. She wants to see more of him when he’s comfortable if that’s the case. The light in his eyes could contend with the brightest stars.

  “You found my stash, didn’t you!” Hades hollers to Persephone with a whooping laugh and a giddy expression that nearly floors her. She nods, grinning. “This is stunning. I—”

  But suddenly, everything... stops. The crowd quiets, and Persephone searches face after face before her eyes land on the main door. It’s ajar, and there seems to be a growing hiss of voices there as a guard speaks to someone in the hall. The tension erupts like a plume in the center of the room, spreading outward at a rapid pace. Of course it does. This was the site of an explosion hardly a month ago. For Persephone —and most likely Hades and his three closest friends as well— that fact is only intensified by the appearance of Zeus in the doorway.

  He’s drunk. Persephone doesn’t need to see him up close in order to ascertain that. He stumbles in, his pale skin red as a cherry tomato, and he’s pushing past the guards with a growing aggression. Hades’ face falls, and Persephone’s heart plummets into her stomach. It’s the worst thing she’s ever seen. She watches it in slow motion, the bright grin turned to ash, replaced by this ruin of an expression. She should have known better. Of course Zeus would find a way into the party if only to bring it all crashing down.

  Her eyes scan the room again until they find Hecate’s. The message between them is clear. They need to get rid of him.

  26

  Hades

  Hades knows before he even turns around what’s happened. He feels it in his chest like a spike through his back, puncturing his lungs. When Zeus stumbles into his line of sight, there is a physical pain that accompanies it, and for the longest possible second, he is rooted to the floor.

  “Brother!” Zeus calls, his gaze wild and unfocused. “Where is my beautiful brother!”

  The comfort of the past hour is burned to ash, but from it rises a familiar facade, resilient as ever and goal-oriented. Right now, the goal is to control what damage Zeus might do here.

  Hades quickly throws his eyes on Dionysos, who still stands with the microphone, and nods. Dionysos doesn’t hesitate, and moments later, the music erupts around them again. Hades is moving towards his drunken brother with quick strides, the crowd parting between them without daring to meet his gaze. This is the Hades that is expected, the one people think they know, and while that fear drags across his skin like barbed wire as he passes them, he won’t acknowledge it. He swore he would deal with Zeus from now on, and he wouldn’t go back on it now. He couldn’t.

  He feels Persephone behind him, but he doesn’t ask her to stay back. Part of him wants to, but that part simply isn’t large enough to halt his progress. He needs the support too. He needs to remind himself that if it all comes to a head, he won’t lose everything. However, he most certainly will if he continues to let things like this go.

  Hecate and Thanatos are feet away by the time he reaches Zeus, catching him around the middle and all but carrying him towards the door. Zeus doesn’t allow it however. He swings his arms, and it catches Hades off guard. He releases his brother, and Zeus forces himself upright as best as he can.

  “No invite, brother?” Zeus slurs, blinking repeatedly.

  “You’re drunk,” Hades says simply, his voice quiet yet firm enough to be heard.

  “That doesn’t answer my question.” Zeus almost sings it before belching. Then he turns on Persephone. “Ah, the beautiful Persephone. Long time, no see, Princess. Too comfortable hiding under my brother’s skirts now, huh?”

  “Zeus.” The way Hades says his name causes Zeus’s head to snap towards him as if on instinct, a party trick the elder had been practicing for decades. “I am only going to tell you once. You need to leave.”

  “You gonna have me carried out like some scum off the street again, Hades?” And there it is, a challenge wrapped in a sneer of privilege. Zeus sways on his feet and gawks around at the club. “Hey! I see you’ve put the place back together too.”

  “Surprised, brother?”

  “Impressed actually,” Zeus hiccups, patting Hades’ chest before his eyes fall down Persephone once more. “You’re really doing well for yourself. Don’t need me, do you?”

  “Have I ever?”

  That gets his attention. The bolder Hades grows, the weaker Zeus appears, and he looks up at the elder with wide, red eyes and surprise on his face. It’s the truth. Hades knows that now. Everything he has, he’d built for himself atop the foundation his father had left for him. Cronus had left him nothing, his mother as much as she could, but in the end, Hades had created this. He had built the Styx District anew with only his friends to aid him. He owes them so much more than he owes Zeus. Hell, he owes Persephone more than he owes Zeus, and he wants to respect that, to do right by that, for once.

  Yet there remains a strong urge to ask him the question that has plagued Hades for weeks. He hasn’t seen Zeus since they reviewed the tapes, Hades and the others gathering what evidence they could. Midas still hasn’t been found, but Hades felt that taking their time would work in their favor in the end. The longer Hades put off an attack on anyone, the more anxious Zeus would get. And the more prone he would be to making a mistake that could unveil some truths.

  “You—” Zeus starts.

  “As I said, brother, I’m not going to tell you again,” Hades sighs, a white-knuckle grip on his composure in place. “It’s my party, and I would like to enjoy it with my family, so—”

  “What about me!”

  Zeus is practically foaming at the mouth. His voice is a scratched and torn thing, high pitched and childish as it clashes with the music. Hades is well aware of the onlookers, but his eyes remain firm on his brother’s bloodshot gaze. He knows now that there is no coming back from this however. Not only is this his brother, this is the leader of Khaos Falls. Everyone here is witnessing the man who controls their city self-destruct. The news will spread. Any credibility Zeus has left will be lost, and all power of his bond with Hades will deteriorate. And how can Hades clean up that mess when to do so would be to betray himself and everyone who trusts him?

  He places a hand on Zeus’s shoulder and steers him back out into the hall. Thana, Hecate, and Persephone follow, shutting the doors behind them.

  “We are family!” Zeus goes on, striking his own chest with his finger so hard that Hades thinks he might break it. “You’re supposed to look out for me! That’s your job.”

  “No, Zeus, it isn’t,” Hades returns.

  Hades wants to hit him. He wants to hug him. He wants to scream and shout and plead with Zeus to love him as he has loved Zeus. However, it’s clicked at long last. That is not possible. Zeus is not capable. He takes and takes and takes. He has nothing to give. He is a glutton for sacrifice and accountable to no one. They — no, he, Hades has allowed Zeus to play Fate for so long that he knows nothing else. He will never know anything else, certainly not at Hades’ hand. Hades can only hope that he hasn’t let his mother down, that he won’t start now.

  “You are not my job,” Hades asserts, his voice somehow level. “You are my brother, and we were supposed to take care of each other, but - it’s only ever been about you. I have done everything I can for you, but you will never be satisfied, and I can no longer feed you. I will not. Certainly not from my own plate.”

  “Hades
—”

  “I’m sorry, brother, but you have to figure it out on your own now.”

  “You’re just gonna leave me! Is this what you’re gonna do, huh! After what you said when Mom—”

  “Don’t, Zeus. I’ve made my peace with what I told my mother.”

  “She told you—”

  “She didn’t tell him to kill himself for you!” Persephone shrieks, and only then does Hades feel the way she shakes beside him. “You’re a childish little brat, Zeus, and you don’t deserve a damn thing he’s given you!”

  Zeus looks at her as though she’s slapped him. Judging by the way she curls her fist, Hades sums up that she’d considered it.

  “You think you can speak to me about childish!” Zeus roars, louder than he’s been thus far, and Hades tenses. “You! Mommy let you play dress up for—”

  Hades isn’t entirely sure how the next few moments play out as they all seem to blur behind a red tint. One minute he’s moving forward, and the next, Zeus is rolling on the ground, dazed and unable to sit up. It takes Hades a moment to register Persephone’s raised fist, her body several steps in front of his, Hecate and Thana staring at her in awe. Zeus’s hand rests loose against his jaw, but Hades is sure he’s just about lost consciousness between her strike and his own intoxication. Hades reaches out carefully, taking her hand out of the air and into his own before brushing his thumb over her knuckles and bringing them to his lips. Then he turns to the guard beside the door.

  “Can you get him out of here please?” he requests softly. “And just so we’re clear. He is not allowed back on this property without my express permission. If I am unavailable to give a verbal ‘okay’, he is to be turned away by any means.”

  The guard nods fervently before calling for backup on his radio. It doesn’t take long for several other guards to arrive. They cart Zeus away, leaving Hades’ mind reeling. Persephone places her hand on his chest, and as expected, he exhales. And he feels lighter than he has in a long time. He knows this isn’t the end, but he hopes it is a beginning. If he can do it once, he can do it again, and he can keep doing it until Zeus realizes he’s serious. For now, they continue to gather the evidence. For tonight, he goes back to enjoy his party.

  To his relief, his guests welcome him back into the festivities with open arms and warm smiles. He eats chocolate and drinks wine and laughs and jokes with all of his nephews. He dances with Persephone and Hecate and Aphrodite and Athena, and they sing him happy birthday in front of the biggest cake he’s ever seen. He’d thought it was a real poker table when Eros had wheeled it in, and it was absolutely as delicious as Eros’ chocolates were. In all these years of skipping or completely forgetting his birthday, dinner with his friends being the only exception, he never thought he was missing out on anything. Now, he thinks he could make this an annual thing. More than that, he wants to.

  By the time he and Persephone stumble into the suite, he’s all but forgotten about Zeus’s visit, and she takes care to dampen the rest of the memory. They reach the hallway floor before he lands on his back, her mounting him. She runs her hands up his chest with a devilish grin.

  “Careful with those hands now, baby,” he warns with a smile. “They’re dangerous.”

  “Mm, not to you,” she starts but seems to reconsider. “Well, maybe to you, but in a very different way. Just remember to stay in line, yeah?”

  “Of course.”

  Soon, they are surrounded by discarded clothing, her hips rolling down against his, teasing his hardened shaft. The alcohol they’d indulged in all evening has the suite spinning, but he’s only focused on her.

  “This is the birthday present I was waiting for,” he groans, licking his lips.

  “Is that right?”

  She hums, leaning down to kiss his chest and take hold of a nipple between her teeth. He hisses, spanking her ass twice before his hips buck wildly. It’s no lie. He’s wanted her all night. In fact, there are very few moments when he doesn’t. On any level, he has never wanted anyone with such vigor, such - urgency. Pleasures of the flesh do not often draw him. They have always been something he could live without, and he knows that this need stems solely from his fathomless feelings for Persephone. He gives himself over to them with a willing recklessness, and they become an entity all their own, battering his ribcage from within.

  He reaches for her hips, but she catches his wrists, pinning them to the floor with a sly smirk. He can hardly suppress a shudder.

  “Wait,” is her simple instruction, and although he tests her hold, he does obey.

  She grinds harder against his cock, her slick folds leaving a trail of arousal along the underside. He lets his head fall back against the floor, eyes hooded, a guttural sound growing in his throat. Soon, panting breaths echo through the hall, and he digs his heels into the carpet. She moves up higher and higher until his tip snags against the edge of her entrance, eliciting a pronounced moan from her that has him gritting his teeth. Still, she continues with her teasing, her hands moving from his wrists to tangle her fingers in his. This constant struggle for dominance each time they undress is a thrill he’d never imagined enjoying so much. He isn’t used to being challenged. He yearns for it now.

  Soon enough, her hands are braced firm against his as she works herself against him, sound after hallowed sound pouring from her parted lips. He curses under his breath but doesn’t fight, the desire to be inside of her at war with the thrill of being so very close. When she finally does sheathe him, he’s completely caught off guard. His roar shakes the space around them, but she doesn’t give him time to adjust, riding him hard and fast. By the time she releases his hands to brace her palms against his thighs, he’s too far gone to do anything but grip her hips and hold on. She looks devastating, head thrown back and breasts bouncing, a sinful song staining the air above. She moves with a poised grace he has learned to associate with her, but seeing it in this light is an entirely new experience.

  He watches in awe as the first tremor racks her body. She comes, calling his name like a hymn before she collapses against his chest. He inhales a large breath. Then he reaches for her hair, tugging her head back to capture her lips in a searing kiss. She groans into his mouth, and he’s already pushing himself up off of the floor. She clings to him as he stalks into the bedroom, ravishing his neck with tongue and teeth until he pulls her away and shoves her face down on the bed. Her attempts to turn over are thwarted by his large hand on the back of her neck.

  “Uh uh,” he grunts. “You got yours. Now it’s time to get mine.”

  “Mm, this is how you want it, birthday boy?” she purrs, propping her ass up.

  He slaps it with his free hand, once with his palm and again with the back of it, and she whimpers. He keeps her on her knees at the edge of the bed as he secures her hair in his fist. His knuckles press into her neck and keep her cheek pinned to the mattress. Stroking his cock, he runs the head through her folds from front to back again and again before sliding his shaft through her cheeks. She shivers with a gasp, and he teases her as she had teased him. Her fingers curl into the comforter, toes curling against his thighs before she spreads her legs further apart. He steps closer. Then he drags his head down again until he can slide into her dripping pussy, their collective groan rising like smoke. With a rough tug of her hair, he rams his hips into her, taking no time to ease into it.

  “Fuck, Hades!” she damn near sobs, banging a fist against the mattress, the comforter still clenched in it. “Don’t - you fucking - stop!”

  As if he ever intended to. He yanks her up further, further until he can get a hand on her breast, squeezing it. She throws her hips back into his to the best of her ability, meeting each stroke with eager fervor. Leaning against him, she grips the back of his head, scraping her teeth none too gently against the side of his jaw as he speeds up his stroke and tweaks her nipple. It feels too good. He wants it to last forever. But he also needs a place to put all this power he feels inside of him tonight, power she’d ins
pired.

  He pushes her back down, a sharp yelp signaling her surprise. Crawling atop her, he pins her down by the shoulders and hammers into her with ruthless thrusts that have her moans saturating the space unadulterated. He growls, low in his throat, the sound of skin slapping against skin almost as loud as she is. He doesn’t slow down. He races for the edge, addicted to the way her sensitive walls spasm around him. She screams his name again, her second orgasm sending shockwave after shockwave through them both as she bucks and writhes beneath him. He goes harder still, desperate and demanding, until his own orgasm rips through him with a careless cruelty.

  “Fuck, Seph!”

  It’s a sharp cry that cracks his voice as he rides it out, fingers gripping her shoulders hard enough to bruise as she buries her own deeper into the sheets. When he finally collapses beside her, she glares at him before relaxing her body.

  “Bastard,” she grumbles.

  “Are you complainin’?” he chuckles breathlessly, gathering her in his arms. She only sucks her teeth. “Besides, it’s my party, right? I get to do what I want.”

  She turns in his arms to face him, though he finds that her features have softened.

  “Did you enjoy it then?” she asks.

  He nods. “I did. Very much. —All I ask is that the chocolates be brought upstairs first thing tomorrow.”