Celebration
By Dawn

Pausing briefly, Iphicles surveyed the scene in his great ballroom.  It was a celebration like he'd never expected.  Everywhere he looked were happy people, laughing and dancing freely, and dispersed among them were gods and goddesses.  Gods celebrating in Corinth.  He shook his head.  Unbelievable, but true.

Suddenly, a giggling blond whirlwind grabbed his arm and swung him out onto the dance floor.  Aphrodite.  "You were starting to look too serious, your highness.  You're not supposed to be thinking tonight, you're supposed to be having fun!"

He couldn't help but laugh.  "A man can only take so much fun without a break every now and then."

"Well, we'll have to see about that!"  She winked, and laughed with him as they moved across the room.

They hadn't gotten very far before they were intercepted by another couple and Aphrodite twirled away, leaving him with another figure in his arms. This happened again and again until he had lost track of the partners, faces and names blending into a blissful combination of cheerful smiles and musical laughs.

Finally, he managed to escape and catch his breath again.  As he made his way to find another drink, he glanced around the room looking for faces he recognized.  Aphrodite was nowhere to be seen.  One of his chief advisors held Cupid close on the dance floor, while the captain of the guard had given up dancing and was locked in a steamy embrace with Artemis.  And leaning onto a nearby pillar was... Ares?

Sure enough, the god of war was at the party, but he certainly wasn't in the spirit of things.  His scowl was like a black cloud and the area around him was clear, as if people were deliberately avoiding his space.  As Iphicles watched, a young girl tentatively approached the god, only to retreat hastily when he turned on the full power of his dark glare.  Without thinking further, the king began to move toward the forbidding figure.

Responding distractedly to numerous greetings and politely refusing several dance requests, Iphicles finally neared Ares' location.  That close, he couldn't help but admire the beauty of the god.  Even unhappy, his features were  unbearably attractive:  soft, dark curls crying out to be touched and lush lips begging to be kissed.  The arrogant stance of his powerful body proclaimed his belief in his control over any situation.

Knowing it was unwise, but unable to stop himself, Iphicles moved to Ares' side and spoke lightly.  "You don't seem to be enjoying yourself."

The god slowly turned his head, leveling his glare directly at the king. "Brilliant observation."

Iphicles shrugged, refusing to be intimidated out of his good mood.  "So why are you here, then?"

If possible, Ares' face darkened even more.  "I'm waiting."

"Waiting.  For?"

Ares slowly turned his head back toward the dance floor and took another drink from the goblet in his hand.

"Ares?"  Iphicles was confused.  He'd expected the sarcasm and maybe some anger, but this silence was odd.  "What are you waiting for?"

Ares turned his head back to look at the king again.

Suddenly Iphicles saw a flash of light and felt his balance shift as his surroundings changed.  He put out a hand to steady himself and found he was grasping the dark god's shoulder tightly.

Ares' scowl turned into a leering grin.

Iphicles snatched his hand back and looked around.  They were in an ornate chamber, one wall completely dominated by a massive bed covered with dark sheets.  Additional furniture was scattered throughout the room, but the significance of the bed sent a rush of blood to his groin.

When he looked back again, the god's eyes were still on him, but strangely unfocused.  "Ares?"

The dark god nodded. "That's me.  Ares, god of war, at your service."  He made a mocking half bow and moved to set his goblet down on a table.

Something finally clicked into place as Iphicles watched the god make his way, none too steadily, across the room.  Ares was drunk.

Suddenly, the situation was ripe with possibilities.  He was alone in a bedroom, who knows where, with a drunk god of war.  A drunk, gorgeous god of war.

Iphicles felt as if he were in a dream.  A good dream.  One where his every wish came true and everything happened in slow motion so he could appreciate it more fully.

Although it was obvious what Ares had in mind, the god hadn't made the first move.  In fact, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking like he had forgotten Iphicles was even there.

Iphicles smiled to himself.  This was an opportunity way too good to pass up.

He walked over to stand in front of the god.  "Ares."

The god looked up as if seeing the man for the first time and a spark lit deep in his eyes.

Iphicles confidently took charge of the situation, pushing Ares backward onto the bed and leaning over him.

"This is what we're here for, isn't it?"  He leaned over, placing his face just above the god's, searching the dark eyes for some reaction.  His answer was there, the glimmer of lust, almost need.  Iphicles closed the distance between them, joining their lips almost roughly as he thrust his tongue into that inviting mouth.

Ares responded in kind, bringing his arms up to wrap around the king's shoulders, one hand threaded through the soft, red-gold curls, but he made no move to take control of the situation, content to accept what Iphicles offered.

After an endless moment, Iphicles pulled back for a much needed breath, once again locking his gaze with that of the god beneath him.  The desire he saw there heated his blood further as he rose to his feet and pulled Ares up to stand before him.  Slowly, he slid his hands under the dark vest, savoring the feel of the silky hair against his palms.

Ares closed his eyes and tilted his head back slightly, gasping as the king lightly brushed his nipples.

Iphicles smiled and continued his exploration of the broad chest, slipping the vest from the shoulders and letting it fall to the floor as he lowered his head to taste the inviting expanse of skin.  His hands moved around to caress the well-muscled back as his lips and tongue moved across the throat and down to tease the dark nipples.

Ares' gasps turned to moans as he grasped the king's shoulders to steady himself.

Satisfied and excited by the growing bulge straining against the god's leather pants, Iphicles pulled back and stood upright.  Understanding the unspoken request, Ares took a deep breath and slowly began to unfasten the king's silk shirt.  Sliding it from the shoulders, he licked his lips, but instead of touching or tasting, his hands moved just as slowly to unfasten the king's pants.
 
Iphicles' moan was almost a whimper as he registered both the denial of sensation, and the promise of what was about to happen.  Another sigh escaped as his aching cock sprang free of the confining cloth.

Inch by inch, Ares pulled the tight pants down, over lean hips and strong thighs until he was helping the king to pull them free from well-muscled calves.  Iphicles felt his cock harden further at the incredible sight of the god of war kneeling before him.  And when Ares looked up, the lust in his eyes nearly caused the king to cum.

As Iphicles struggled to regain control, his cock seemed to draw the god's attention like a magnet. Rising on his knees, Ares brought his face level with it, letting his warm, moist breath tantalize the head.  Slowly he ran his tongue the length of the shaft, from base to tip, stopping to lick the glistening drop of salty fluid from the end.  Bringing one hand up to follow the path of his tongue, he continued to explore the head, engulfing it between his moist lips and circling it with his tongue.

Unable to withstand the gentle assault any longer, Iphicles grabbed the god's head between his hands and urged him closer.  Ares moved to grasp the man's tight buttock  and his throat relaxed, encouraging the king to fuck his mouth.  Together they set a rhythm that seemed to engulf their whole reality, and yet seemed to last no time at all before the king stiffened and shouted his release and the god eagerly swallowed the jets of creamy white fluid.

Iphicles felt a boneless gratitude as Ares rose and steadied him, leading him to the giant bed and urging him to lie in the center of it.  As he watched, Ares stripped off his tight leather pants, revealing an imposing erection of his own before he moved to join the king on the bed.

Seeing the need still shining from the god's eyes, feeling it in the tension of the muscles as Ares nuzzled his neck and explored his body with hands and mouth, Iphicles wondered when he had stopped being in charge and decided it was time to take back some control.

Marshaling his returning strength, he waited for an opportune moment and then rolled, pinning a shocked god to the mattress.  His triumphant grin was met with surprise and then acquiescence as Ares stretched his arms over his head and closed his eyes.

Resolved to return the pleasure he had just received, Iphicles began a detailed assault on the god's body.  His fingers slid down the ribcage, and his mouth trailed a path down the chest, tasting the nipples again, briefly, before traveling downward to taste his navel.  Ares groaned when Iphicles raised his head and his hair brushed the god's cock.

Ignoring the unspoken plea, Iphicles lightly ran his hands over Ares' legs, feeling the tension in the muscles. Massaging them slowly, he leaned over and tasted the sensitive skin of one inner thigh.  As Ares quivered, he trailed his tongue from the knee, not quite to the groin and repeated the procedure on the other side.  This time he didn't stop, but nestled his face and one hand beneath the cock to find and taste the god's sensitive balls.

Ares' groans had become gasps by the time Iphicles finally turned his attention to the cock that stood hard and demanding before him.  Wrapping two fingers around the base, he firmly stroked upward, causing the god to cry out and thrust his hips forward.  Moving the fingers slowly back along the shaft, he lapped at the head of the cock, tasting the fluid gathered there and exploring the slit with his tongue.  He continued this exploration until the god was writhing helplessly beneath him.  Sensing an imminent orgasm, Iphicles stilled his hand and engulfed the cock between his lips, allowing the fiery liquid to slide down his throat as the god screamed in pleasure.

Claiming the last of the creamy fluid with his tongue, Iphicles watched as the god slowly returned to his senses, gathering some semblance of control. Gradually, Ares' breathing slowed, his eyes opened and his lips curved into a glorious, if unaccustomed smile.

Iphicles returned the smile and moved to meet the upturned lips with his own.  This was turning out to be one hell of a celebration.

The End