WHO: Tragos and Ares WHEN: Thursday afternoon WHERE: Hawaii by the pool WHAT: Please sir WARNINGS: Sexual references
This is so dumb Tragos thought as he paced his room. So dumb. He shouldn't be considering it. What was that woman doing to him?
Maybe if they were back in New York he wouldn't have dared. Maybe if they weren't thirteen hours on a plane away from the arena where he'd seen Apollo smashed bloody.
Tragos didn't believe Ares' wedding, Ares' happiness, made him softer, not for a second. Kinda thought Marcie was stupid for assuming Ares worked that way. Wasn't going to say that to her, obviously. Just like when she hadn't been allowed to stay while Ares dealt with Apollo, she'd just get mad that Tragos knew more about Ares that she did (which, he clearly did, but she'd still get mad about it.)
She was so hot though. And daring. And kinky. And...
And he was going to do it. Because he couldn't get her out of his head. Because if she went off without him after that talk of fucking at secluded waterfalls then his blue balls were going to drive him crazy.
He just had to ask carefully, without looking like he cared at all. Like it was more annoying than anything else. Like he'd rather be drinking with the boys and chasing the waitresses and the hula girls who'd entertained them last night. Or watching one of the nymphs get real friendly with one of the dancing girls. Not driving some needy girl to look at some dingy waterfalls.
But not too annoyed. Because he was here to make life easier for Ares, not to whine about shit.
Tragos gradually felt his mind go blank. Forgot about the moans Marcie made when he was inside her. Forgot about Ares fist crunching Apollo's face. Forget about all of it, good and bad. Forget lust, forget fear.
(Try to forget fear.)
He was long practiced at this kind of mental prep. Like before a fight. Like before his initiation. Turn everything else off so you can do what needs to be done without emotions. Man up, in other words.
Feeling much more calm (flat, solid, still, detached) he went out to make sure Ares was alone. He wasn't going to do this if Aphrodite was around. He didn't like what Marcie said about her suspecting, observing. Fuck that.
He found Ares by the pool, sunning himself. Hands behind his back and standing to attention, Tragos flattened the small jolt of warning at the sight of Ares muscles (always more awe inspiring in real life than they were in his memory) and said, politely, "Sir?"