Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Fuck. Zag, I love you. Gods, I’m close-”

Megaera’s room is just barely lit up by gloomy candles and the green-tinted light of Ixion, but the moody lighting is just enough for Zagreus to see that when he wakes up panting and heated, he's alone.

He drowsily reaches a hand out to feel the space around him where Thanatos and Megaera would be, and finds that it’s cool.  His lovers are long gone, no doubt already back to work.

He climbs out of Meg's pink covers, picks up a dark blue pillow that had fallen off the bed, and puts back on his accoutrements. As he absentmindedly straps on his pauldron, his mind wanders to the dream he just had.

Already the details are fading, but he can still make out the general gist of it if he concentrates. 

He was…yes, he was dreaming of Hypnos. No surprise there. The man was never far from Zagreus’ mind.

They had been alone in the lounge drinking…nectar? Probably. Dream Hypnos had taken out his list and had rattled off some of Dream Zagreus’ recent deaths. 

“Hooh, looks like one of those little Numbskulls took a big old bite right out of your back there, I guess they got you, huh? I don’t blame it, it is a pretty nice back! All muscly and everything! Maybe if you weren’t quite so tasty, they’d leave you alone! And so would I.” 

Then Hypnos had leant in, playfully walking his fingers closer and closer to Zagreus’ until they were mere centimetres away.

“ Unless of course, you don’t want me to leave you alone? Unless you want me to- stay close? I'd be happy to, you know. Very happy to.”

He shivers. It was pretty similar to something Hypnos had actually told him, but it was so much more- charged .

Especially if he correctly recalls the lingering look Dream Hypnos had given him, eyes travelling appreciatively down his body.

He tries to remember more. His dream self had said something in reply, and Dream Hypnos had somehow got on his lap, and then,

“I really like you Zag. I hear you feel the same, huh? That’s pretty convenient! But, maa-ybe you should prove it to me, hmm, just in case? I’m sure you can get…creative”

Ah.

Zagreus flushes, fumbling with his jewellery and causing it to fall to the ground.

So he had a dream about Hypnos.

That explains why he was so- worked up when he woke up. Why he’s still worked up, he realises, if the pulsing heat between his legs is any indication.

Somehow, that makes Zagreus feel guilty, even though it’s not like he hasn’t had similar thoughts before.

Maybe it's because dreams are far more concrete than the flitting fantasies his mind creates, or maybe because this particular one was more-

Wait. Can’t Hypnos see his dreams?

Blood and Darkness he probably can, he is quite literally the God of Sleep. 

Ohh, that is not how Zagreus wants Hypnos to find out he likes him. 

Fuck, he’s gonna think Zagreus is a creep, isn’t he? He definitely is a creep though, who has those kinds of thoughts about their best friend? Even if he likes him it’s still- urgh he doesn’t know. 

What are the chances Hypnos hasn’t seen it yet, though?

It’s still pretty early, maybe if he can distract him enough he won’t get the time to check, or at least not check until after Zagreus has carried out his plan and confessed. If that even is how that works. He doesn't know how the Dream realm domain operates. 

But what are the chances Hypnos will ever see his dream? There has to be like what, thousands of dreams in Onerois every night. What are the chances he’ll stumble across one, puny dream?

A small part of him wonders– hopes that Hypnos sent him that dream, on purpose. That this is him recognising and accepting his advances.

Blast, no that’s wishful thinking at best and a hell of a slim chance to bet on.

He can’t subsist on fantasies; Zagreus is already feeling restless.

It’s time for him to enact his plan. 

It’s simple enough in theory.

Zagreus will approach Hypnos and ask him to share a dream with him, like last time. Tell him something about how he enjoyed it so much he wanted to do it again.

Invite Hypnos to meet up in his bedroom and fall asleep there with him, instead of dozing off in the middle of the Great Hall or whatever he did last time. After all, his bed is big enough for two people.

Hell, it's big enough for three people– a fact he has definitely tested out before.

Then he’ll wait for just the right time, and confess.

Hopefully Hypnos will feel the same way and if not… well at least he can always pull the plug on the dream if it gets too awkward. 

Right, he should get out of Megaera’s bedroom now. He takes a deep breath before striding out into the corridor. 

Zagreus takes his time getting to the Great Hall.

Rushing into things never goes well, so he lets himself collect his thoughts and consider his approach more carefully.  Besides, he's in an introspective mood.

At the very least it allows the heat between his legs to simmer down and eventually die.

It would be unbecoming of him to stroll around his Father’s halls with an erection, after all.

His eyes linger absently on the various ornaments that adorn each hallway. Polished marble columns inlaid with various coloured gems, gleaming tiles and gold embellished vases. All entirely ornamental and pointless; nothing but a show of power and wealth.

Tacky, if you ask him.

Before Zagreus started commissioning the House Contractor, the entire House looked this way.

Grand but meaningless, expensive but antiquated, beautiful but stagnant.

It’s the kind of statements his father is fond of, the kind he despises.

Perhaps Achilles is right about him being the God of Life, for he cannot stand seeing anything not thrumming with liveliness.

Empty gestures, careless flauntings of riches with no apparent rhyme or reason, to him seemed worse than not bothering at all.

Practically the same really when you’re powerful and/or incredibly wealthy.

All the upgrades he made to the House had a purpose, to improve the decoration and make it more livable (well, maybe not the disco ball. That he can’t justify, except for that he thinks it looks cool and it fills him with an inexplicable sense of whimsy).

All his gifts have meaning. His only exceptions would be the Ambrosia and Nectar he had gifted almost everyone he got to know because well, everyone likes the stuff. A hot commodity in the Underworld, its allure sweetened by its air of illegality. People love contraband. Why else would it be banned in the first place? 

Zagreus thinks back to the gifts he was planning on giving Hypnos. The bouquet of flowers, the miniature Minotaur, the Ambrosia, which are all now sitting in his room. He tried to be thoughtful with the gifts, and he certainly hopes Hypnos will like them when he gives- 

wait, when is he going to give them? Zagreus hasn’t accounted for that in his plan. Maybe- afterwards? Before?

Anyways that’s a problem for future Zagreus, because he has rounded the corner into the Administration room and is now stepping out into the West hall.

It seems to be a little slow at the moment, with barely any shades lurking around. Hades is bent over his desk, scratching away at paperwork with his quill. Two of Cerberus’ heads are asleep, the other lazily grooming his paws.

Achilles stands guard dutifully as ever, and Zagreus offers him a wave and grin. Achilles nods back. 

“Lad.”

“Achilles, sir! Everything alright this day or night?”

“Just fine, Prince. No different from the usual.”

“Glad to hear it.” He nods in acknowledgment at his mentor, before dashing off.

He hasn’t spoken to Achilles in ages, has he? Hasn’t really spoken to much of anyone in a while. Not even his mother.

Zagreus has been too preoccupied with well-

finding out he has a crush on Hypnos and then running around trying to get him gifts to court him and then failing miserably to court him and now trying again with every chance that he’ll fail just as spectacularly as before and ruin their friendship forever . 

…Er yeah, so he’s been busy.

Speaking of Hypnos.

Zagreus can imagine Sleep Incarnate, dowsing peacefully, head lolled forward to rest on his list, gentle curls spilling out like waterfalls.

Or perhaps, he’s in an (admittedly sort of rare) fit of productivity, scribbling furiously on a form or list, or lazily waving his hands to usher the shades into some kind of order, piping out encouragement, advice or soothing words to the distraught and newly deceased. But when he turns towards the corner in which Hypnos is stationed, he instead finds that he is-

That he’s not there. Wait what?

Zagreus stops dead in his tracks immediately.

For all that he tried to carefully consider and plan out the moment, it never occurred to him that Hypnos might not actually be there.

Well, he’s probably just on a break.

He ducks into the lounge through the side entrance. No Hypnos, not even a flash of red.

Dusa’s there though, whispering to herself in the corner, the snakes of her hair twitching absentmindedly.

She doesn’t seem too stressed, which is good, just busy. She really has been keeping her word about pacing herself about work, ever since Nyx fired her.

Zagreus is proud of her, for though she does have those occasional slips where she slightly falls back into her old habits, she always snaps back, if not with a couple gentle reminders.

Zagreus strolls over, hoping he looks casual. 

“Hey Dusa. Hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Oh! N-Not at all Prince! I’m just going over all the places I’ve already dusted, like the rafters, the statues, the paintings…oh, but what was it you wanted?”

“Oh, I erm- I was wondering if you knew where Hypnos is? Is he on break or something? He’s not at his post. Though, I know you don’t really talk with him often.”

“Actually, I don’t really talk to Mister Hypnos uhm, ever? But I do know that he hasn’t clocked in for work like, at all today. It’s honestly pretty surprising, because even though he’s not always the greatest at well, actually working, he still always turns up! And he’s been actually like, trying? Lately, so it’s even more weird.”

Zagreus frowns. Dusa’s right. That is weird. From what Hypnos has told him and what he’s overheard from his conversations of Than, he loves his job. So why would he-

As if he was summoned, his train of thought is interrupted by a familiar sound of a bell. Thanatos . Maybe he’ll know more.

Zagreus thanks Dusa and pokes his head out of the lounge to catch sight of Death Incarnate.

Than is standing in front of Hades’ desk, faintly bowing his head deferentially. Hades stares down at him, eyes glinting with a mixture of impatience and curiosity.  

“If I may have a moment of your time, my Lord?”

“Thanatos. What is it? Speak plainly, I haven’t got all day.”

“It is concerning my brother. He has…requested some time off.”

Hades arches an eyebrow. “Hypnos? Of all his faults, I would not have expected this. Tell me, why in all this blasted realm would I permit this?”

“It was I who suggested it, my Lord. He is- unwell. I would be eternally beholden to you if you were to allow him this leave. As would he.”

Zagreus can tell this catches Hades off guard.

Hell, it caught him off guard as well. Because never in his entire life would he consider Thanatos actually recommending someone take a- take a break . Much less to Hypnos . 

Hades’ eyes continue to bore down at Thanatos for a terrifyingly silent second before he huffs.

“Hmph. Very well. But I expect him to be back the very moment he recovers. Lest I cast you both into Tartarus. Now, return to your duties.
”

“Of course. I thank you for your magnanimity, my lord.”

With that, Than is gone before Zagreus can even catch his attention. Blast.

So that’s why Hypnos is nowhere to be found. He’s sick?

He seemed fine when Zagreus saw him and that was pretty recent, but maybe that’s why he rushed off all of a sudden.

Honestly he wasn’t aware Hypnos could get sick.

Zagreus gets sick sometimes–though not for a long while–probably because of his lingering mortal blood, but most gods stop getting sick once they reach ‘adulthood’, aka when their divinity has fully settled and reached full strength.

Nyx had explained it to him before, but honestly- he hadn’t really been listening.

Something about how it isn’t actually being ill and more so ‘growing pains’, as the gods’ essence gets used to being restrained in a more or less solid form.

Apparently the Olympians don’t really experience those fits, but he doesn’t actually remember why.

Maybe it's the climate or something. Sunlight’s supposed to be medicinal for mortals, so maybe it has similar effects on Gods. How would he know? He’s never spent more than an hour or so in the sun.

Whatever it is, Hypnos is unwell and he won’t be in the House until he gets better. So Zagreus needs to- what can he do?

Wait for him to get back?

That feels wrong, just waiting for him to get over it instead of doing something to help. Plus Zagreus sucks at waiting.

He has no idea how to care for sick people, though.

When he got sick he would mostly just sleep it off. Drink water. Wrap himself in blankets.

And Hypnos…Zagreus is pretty sure he’s got at least two of those three covered.

Frustrated, his eyes wander around the Hall until he locks sight with Achilles.

Of course. His mentor is a shade . A mortal shade. Mortals get sick all the time! They even die from it all the time, from what he picks up from chatter. He probably knows a thing or two.

He strides forward, ignoring the look Hades gives him. 

“Achilles, sir. This might be an odd question, but do you know much about getting sick? I’m assuming it’s happened to you before.”

Achilles shifts his grip on his spear. 

“It has, though not as often as it probably should’ve. I’ve thanks to my divine lineage for that, I would think. Why do you ask, lad?”

“It’s Erm- I want to know about caring for a sick person. If there is any care to be given, that is.”

Achilles furrows his eyebrows slightly but replies all the same. “I suppose it depends on what in particular ails them-”

Zagreus blinks. There’s different types of illnesses? Zagreus always assumed there was just the kind that kills you, and the kind that doesn’t.

“But usually making sure they get a healthy amount of rest and the correct medicine helps. Hydration as well, warmed drinks in particular. I ah- I remember something that one of the servants would give me, when I was a boy. A soup of some kind. I'm afraid I don't remember the flavour, nor the ingredients, but I do remember feeling far better afterwards.”

Aha. There’s something he hadn’t thought of.

“Oh! Thank you sir! I'll be sure to try that.”

Achilles looks vaguely amused, before his expression turns morose. “Of course Prince. Caring for the ill, it's like taking care of someone injured. Sometimes the best support you can give is just being there for them. And if it turns out to be they're last moments, at least you're there to hold them as they go. Something I wish I learnt sooner.” 

Ah. That's, er- that's quite depressing. Zagreus doesn’t know what to say. 

“Erm- I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to upset you. I can give you some space if you'd prefer?” 

His mentor has that distant glazed look in his eyes that he sometimes gets when he starts thinking of his life. Gently Achilles shakes his head. 

“It's quite alright lad, you didn't do anything wrong. You'll just have to excuse the ramblings of an old man.”

Achilles offers him a small smile and a knowing look. 

“You have a big heart, Zagreus. I hope you get everything it wishes for.”

Zagreus nods, heart-warmed. Achilles must have put two and two together.

He always understood Zagreus better than anyone, more than Zagreus himself. 

“Thank you sir, that means a lot to me, coming from you. I wish the same for you.”

At that Achilles’ eyes gleam

“Oh I already have. Thanks to you. Now go on lad. I believe you have soup to make.”

He's walking back to his room, trying to figure out whatever the hell goes in a soup when he hears a voice calling for him. 

“My son.” 

Zagreus’ face brightens. He turns towards the gardens to see Persephone, waving him over.

“Mother!”

“Zagreus.” She pulls him into a fierce hug.  “I apologise for not speaking with you as much these past few days. But in all honesty your father and I have been quite busy discussing our little situation with the Olympians.” 

“It’s alright Mother.” He says, gently extracting himself from her arms. “I’ve been quite busy myself anyways.”

Zagreus had admittedly forgotten about that issue, despite the fact that he was worrying about it not too long ago.

Or, not forgotten, more like he had pushed it from his mind for later.

Meg- might’ve had a point when she called Zagreus single-minded.

“So…Have you come up with a solution?”

“I might’ve, actually. But, I think I’ll wait a bit to say it. I need to make sure the time is right, first. And consult Nyx. But if this works then, this may be what mends the relationship between the Underworld and Olympus.”

That would be a tall order. Zagreus is pretty sure the only reason the Olympians were willing to help him is because he was rebelling against the Underworld. And because he was kin and trying to reach them.

But if anyone could do it, it’d probably be his mother. 

“If you manage to achieve that Mother, it would be huge.”

“Well I don’t think it’s too hard, not if I continue what you started.”

“I’m sorry? I don’t follow.”

“Why, the only reason I can even think to make this step is because of you. You’ve softened their opinions on the Underworld and you gave them and us a common cause. By simply trying to escape, you united not only the Olympians with each other, but residents of the Underworld as well. Albeit through the common goal of violently thwarting your escape attempts, but you united them nevertheless. If this works my son, it will be because of you.”

Oh wow, that’s- Zagreus doesn’t even know how to reply to that. He never really considered the political repercussions of his escape attempts, didn’t think there were any, but here his mother was, saying that they did good .

It’s hard to wrap his head around, because his father always acted like his escape attempts were sowing discord and chaos, and ruining everything he ever built.

Then again, his father usually acted like Zagreus’ mere presence threatened everything he built.

“I- I don’t know what to say. You- you truly believe that, Mother?”

“I know it. Have a little faith in yourself Zagreus. You ought to be proud of all you’ve done.” Persephone walks a little ways out, leaning down to pull out a weed. “Now, how would you like to help me in the garden?”

Zagreus winces. As much as he would love to spend time with Persephone, he really needs to find and check on Hypnos, not to mention go to the Head Chef and see if they can make some sort of soup for Zagreus to bring him.

Plus he- hold on…

“Mother, you know a lot about plants don’t you. Vegetables, herbs, that sort of stuff.”

Persephone looks back at him. “Yes I do, actually. Though, you know my specialty is pomegranates.”

“Do you happen to know any that would be good in a soup? Preferably one that you’d drink if you were feeling a bit ill.”

Persephone tilts her head, thoughtful. 

“I believe I do know, yes.”

Zagreus grins. Perfect.

It takes him a while to get on track.

He has to battle up to the surface so he can get to his Mother’s cottage and carefully pick out the right plants, before going back again to find Eurydice in Asphodel, because when he asked the Head Chef if they could make him a soup they just stared at him (which– rude, Zagreus is the source of most of their fish! Plus all the upgrades he made to the kitchen).

When he finds Eurydice, armed with a bag full of vegetables (among other things) he fashioned out of an old shawl, he has to awkwardly explain his situation to her.

“One of my friends, he’s sick. I want to make him soup so he feels better, but my cooking skills are well- nonexistent, and I figure a taste of your cooking would make anyone feel better. But if you do this favour for me I’d be forever grateful. I have all the ingredients, plus a couple bottles of nectar for you, as a thank you for your effort.”

“Soup for sickness huh? Let me guess: runny nose, horrifically bloodshot and watery eyes, terrible cough and/or sneeze, and a fever to top it off?”

“Err- Let’s go with that, yes.”

“Well, it’s no big deal hon. I’m always looking out for more recipes anyway. I’ll do it, but on one condition. You get over here and help!”

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d be any good-”

“Nonsense! You can learn! Now pass me that bottle over there.”

Once the soup has been made, with a substantial amount of assistance from Zagreus, Eurydice pours it into a portable container, and passes it to Zagreus, who slips it into his bag. 

“You take care now! And remember, it's only good if it's hot!”

He waves goodbye, before hopping on the bone raft.

This time, when he fights through Asphodel, he’s extra careful as to not spill his hard earned goods. 

Once he reaches Elysium, Zagreus’ resolve falters momentarily.

Elysium is- well, huge.

Not as big as Tartarus, and certainly not Asphodel, but still pretty big.

There's no guarantee Zagreus will even find Hypnos’ cave, much less before the soup goes cold.

And what if he doesn’t like it?

What if it doesn’t even help ? Zagreus doesn’t actually know what’s wrong with Hypnos.

He swears under his breath, hiking over to a cliff ledge and squatting down.

Is there any chance he can spot it from here? He squints, but he can’t make out any details. It probably doesn’t help that he’s only seen the place once in a dream .

He sighs, straightening again. Looks like he’s going to have to do this the hard way.

He never finds Hypnos’ cave, but he does find Hypnos.

He’s floating in a fountain room, hunched over the softly bubbling pool of water and facing away from Zagreus.

He wasn’t expecting to find Hypnos so quickly–the soups still piping hot!- but he sure as hell won’t complain.

He can’t figure out what Hypnos is doing, but his slight head movements cause his cloud-white, mussy curls to subtly bounce and sway.

Zagreus stops in front of the god, who hasn’t noticed his entrance. 

“Hypnos”

He says his name slowly and deliberately, carefully savouring the feel of it in his mouth; rolling syllables on his tongue, pushing out weeping vowels and sharp consonants alike and lingering on the soft hanging hiss of the -nos.

That name, like every other faucet of its owner, is tragically beautiful.

Zagreus thinks that he can understand Tisiphone and her all consuming devotion to her purpose, so strong that it whittled her down until it was the only thing she could speak.

If Zagreus had to choose to be reduced to utter one word, to one single-minded worship, then he would gladly have it be Hypnos’ name. 

“A-ah! Hi Zag.” Hypnos spins around, eyes wide-eyed with bewilderment.

His gaze briefly flits from Zagreus to his makeshift bag. Hypnos’ eyes are rheumy and bloodshot, like he’s been crying. 

Oh- that’s supposed to be a physical manifestation of illness, right?  

Hypnos’ clothes are slightly dishevelled, and his dark circles look even more pronounced than usual.

 All in all, he’s still ridiculously beautiful. 

“I- I didn’t see you there. What are you- what are you doing out here?”

“Than said you were sick. Well, admittedly he didn’t actually tell me but I, well, overheard. So I came to see if you were alright.” 

“Oh w-wow! You really came all this way for little old me? Why, I’m flattered, Zag! But, I’m not actually-” Hypnos stutters to a halt, before picking up again, “I mean-! I’m not actually sick anymore! But you know what, it’s the thought that counts, so thank you. ”

Hypnos still looks pretty sick to Zagreus, but he doesn’t comment on it. If Hypnos says he’s better, then he’s better.

He’s honestly relieved, caring for sick people seems to be kind of hard and- gross, certainly more complex than Zagreus is equipped to deal with. 

What is he going to do with the soup though?

“I’m glad to hear that. And of course I’d come out to find you, you're my mate, and I care about you! You’re always helping me, so it’s only fair I return the favour. Oh that reminds me, I have a few things for you.”

He takes out the mini-Minotaur and the flowers, which through some miracle have not wilted. Must be because they’re from eternal paradise.

He moves closer, more than is probably strictly necessary, and presses them into Hypnos’ arms.

When Hypnos hugs the gifts closer, balancing them into the crook of his arm, Zagreus  moves his hands to cup one of Hypnos’ own.

It’s cool, but pleasantly so, a lovely contrast to his own hands, which he’s been told run far too hot.  

Hypnos lets out a little gasp that makes Zagreus’ heart do a fucking backflip “Oh gosh- Zag I- You really didn’t have to, I’m feeling so much better now and- I- I- Thank you.”

Hypnos looks up at him with such genuine and unabashed love and gratitude his pulse sings with joy.

Oh, it's such a good look on him.

He’s looking at him like he gave him the secrets to the universe, just like when he gave him that autograph.

Blood and Darkness, this was worth it. 

“It’s nothing, honestly. Spending time with you- it's some of the best parts of my day, or night. You…mean a lot to me, so I figured that this is actually a small repayment in the grand scheme of things. Really, even if I raided the entirety of Charon’s vast and numerous hoards of riches and brought it right back to you, it still probably wouldn’t be enough to properly convey my- my feelings. For you.”

Zagreus studies Hypnos’ face to gauge his reaction. He thinks that was pretty straightforward flirting. Right? He kind of wishes Meg or Than were here to tell him.

They’d tell him bluntly, but at least they’d tell him.

Hypnos hasn’t drawn his hand away, but he is also looking at Zagreus with a look of such utter shock he’s concerned his eyes will pop out of his skull.

“That’s- that’s so- why, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were flirting!” Hypnos chokes up.

Wait, but that’s exactly what he’s doing.

Is this a subtle sign to back off?  He doesn’t seem uncomfortable.

“How did I get so lucky to have a friend like you, anyway? I mean- poppies! How’d you even know they were my favourite flowers, huh? You bribed Thanatos didn’t you? Didn’t you!”

Oh fuck it. He’s already going down this path, he might as well commit. He can’t wait any longer.

Whether Hypnos rejects him coldly or reciprocates wholly, he needs to get an answer.

Zagreus chuckles. He’s still holding Hypnos’ hands, but he thinks if he lets go the Styx might actually swallow him. So instead, he runs his thumbs along the length of Hypnos’ fingertips, walking his other fingers to rest beside his palms. 

“Not at all. Just a…” Zagreus’ eyes travel down to Sleep Incarnate’s belt, where two red poppies are adorned. Hypnos doesn’t exactly keep it a secret.

But now that he’s already looking he can’t bring himself to tear his gaze away.

It's too easy to admire the slightly visible curve of his hips, too easy to start imagining what might be hiding underneath .

Begrudgingly, he looks back up to Hypnos’ face, peering directly into those pretty eyes.

“...Lucky guess.”

Hypnos must have noticed his staring, because his face flushes a gorgeous shade of gold, and he twitches like he wants to avert his gaze but can’t bring himself to.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and Zagreus follows the movement, before snapping back up to make eye contact again, though not before he indulges in appreciating the freckles dusted on Hypnos’ cheeks. 

He seizes the moment, and edges a little bit closer somehow, despite their pre-existing proximity. “Can I ask you something?”

The tension in the air is palpable, so thick Zagreus almost wants to whip out his Infernal Arm just to cut through it.

Hypnos nods quickly, never once breaking eye contact.

The look in Hypnos’ eyes- that jolting yellow- it reminds Zagreus of the time he chose another god over Zeus in one of their trials.

In retaliation his Lord Uncle had sent out pulses of lightning bolts to smite him. Fallen onto his back, and covered in his own blood, he had looked up to behold the strike that would take his life.

He remembers how fear-stricken yet quietly awed he was.

That crackling heat, mesmerising patterns of ozone forging through the air. How casually powerful it was, its undeniable, arcing beauty and for Zagreus–just like Hypnos’ gaze– it was utterly, heart-stoppingly, dangerous.

Ok. Just ask the question. You can do this. Remember what Megaera threatened  said. Don’t mess up or you’ll hurt him.

He cannot mess this up. He can’t. His vision is spinning from a whole cocktail of messy emotions. He takes a deep breath.

“I was wondering if you wanted to sleep with me?”

…

Well fuck, that came out wrong.