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Chapter Text

Throughout the night, the sleep-resistant Zagreus flirted with consciousness at irregular intervals, but his body was too tired to commit to his insomniac fancies and he found repose in spite of himself. His half-formed dreams bled in and out of reality, cradled by the soothing sounds of the industrious Thanatos typing on his keyboard and, later, his soft steps around the room. A few times Zagreus began to stir, and his befogged senses became aware of Thanatos' gentle fingers combing lightly through his hair, eliciting a contented sigh from him before the weight of his exhaustion dragged him under again.

He woke fully only once. The room was silent then, and almost completely dark. The only vestige of light came from the street lamp outside the window, its amber hues softly piercing through the thinning curtains to outline the silhouette facing him on the bed. 

Thanatos lay asleep on his side, close to the edge of the mattress. He had not fully pulled the bedsheets over himself, perhaps to avoid rousing the slumbering Zagreus. His expression was peaceful, free of the manifold preoccupations that gnawed at him during the day, and the graceful lines of his torso rose and fell with every deep breath. Zagreus' heart ached at the sight of him. He strained his eyes in the dimness of the room, committing every detail of Thanatos' sleeping countenance to memory. 

The conflicting wants that coiled inside Zagreus of late reared their myriad heads and opened their jaws to tear him from every flank. Here was proof that Thanatos had been right in his earlier assessment: now that the enamored Zagreus knew that he could have this closeness between them, he was loath to surrender even a fraction of it. And yet, he could not so easily let go of the fervent aspirations that made Olympus' offer such an enticing prospect.

Just a day ago, he may have been able to content himself with admiring Thanatos' printed likeness and imagining improbable romantic scenarios between them, always with the harsh conviction that such longing would never be fulfilled and the knowledge that their friendship was no less precious because of it. But in that precise moment, having so recently had his abstract fantasies dwarfed by the very real experience of Thanatos' mouth on his and the affectionate warmth in his eyes, the decision before him seemed more daunting than ever.

Assuredly he had been earnest when he had expressed his intent of driving down to visit if he did transfer, and he believed that, were he to leave Styx, Thanatos would understand his decision and support him in it, as he had affirmed. Nevertheless, the dread-filled Zagreus knew he could not expect to drive down every weekend, and when he did, what little time they could have together would fly by with cruel celerity, as his brief visits to his long-absent mother always had. How long, he wondered, would phone calls and perhaps a handsome poster on his wall serve to dull that distance? 

He found himself inundated by turmoil, lovingly gazing at the sleeping Thanatos and wanting to make him happy, as he deserved, but knowing that he might instead bring grief with his departure, and unable to quench his ambition in spite of it. Even if Thanatos understood why he was leaving, Zagreus' first-hand experience had taught him that the understanding of a necessary absence did not mitigate any suffering it may cause. 

He watched Thanatos for a few heartbeats longer, eyes tracing the curve of his lashes on his cheeks, the arch of his nose, the cut of his jaw. Then, as carefully as he could, he lifted the blanket that lay mostly covering himself to drape over his cherished partner as well. Satisfied when this did not wake him, he rested his hand in the hollow of Thanatos' upturned palm and traced reverent circles with his thumb over Thanatos' knuckles until sleep claimed him again.

When next he came to his senses, the room was filled with morning light and Thanatos was gently rocking him awake and calling his name. His voice was soft but it pierced through the haze of sleep and put a smile on Zagreus' face. 

"G'morning," he yawned, and blearily opened his eyes. 

"Good morning, Zag." 

Thanatos was perched on the edge of the bed, clad in a dark purple dress shirt, black tie, and neatly pressed slacks; an alluring sight to wake up to. Zagreus' mind, made sluggish by his unusually long indulgence in sleep, took a moment to dredge up his awareness of the debate scheduled for that morning and connect it to the formality of the outfit. 

Absently, he wondered at Thanatos' uncanny ability to move about in complete silence when he wanted to; Zagreus had not heard or felt him leave the bed, though he must have been up for some time. 

"Your bed is magic. I slept like the dead." Even after waking, his body remained faithful to the analogy: he was stiff from lying in the same cramped position all night. He stretched his arms over his head until he felt his muscles unwind and his back pop, and let out a sigh of satisfaction. At the edge of his vision, he saw Thanatos' eyes wander down the line of his torso, and he grinned, entirely too pleased with himself. "Than? You okay there?" 

He bit back a laugh at the way Thanatos started at the sound of his own name and snapped his gaze back to the smug Zagreus' face. Petulantly, he said, "Yes, of course I'm okay. I'm not the one who got beaten up yesterday." 

"Right, that was me. Did you want to check me for bruises, or...?"

Thanatos scoffed, but Zagreus knew better than to mistake it for genuine annoyance. "I assume you have no shortage of those, and I need to leave soon." At that, the exultant Zagreus did laugh, conceding the point, and he saw merriment dance in Thanatos' eyes, much in spite of the sobriety of his tone. "How are you feeling today?" 

"Right now? Invincible."

"Be serious, Zagreus. I meant on a physical level." He further specified, "Your injuries. Are you in pain, or dizzy?"

Zagreus mentally catalogued the various dull aches left behind by Asterius' fists and judged them unimportant. Pain was a sensation he was accustomed to, a house guest whose comings and goings were frequent enough to be hardly noteworthy anymore, barring some special visits of a particularly memorable nature. This was not one such, and he saw no point in inviting Thanatos' worry. 

"I'm a little sore, but that's about it. I'll go see Doctor Patroclus just in case, anyway. Though there's, uh, something I want to double-check with you first."

"Yes?"

"About last night. I didn't dream our conversation, did I? It actually happened?"

Thanatos' expression shuttered at the question. "It happened, yes. Are you... having second thoughts?"

"What, are you serious?" He was, Zagreus realized. He sat up and reached out to take his hand, wishing to convey his sincerity through the gesture. "Not a chance, Than. I told you, I'm not going to change my mind." 

He saw the way Thanatos relaxed at the confirmation, and was gripped by the desire to bear him down onto the bed and make sure he would never doubt again but, at that untimely moment, he knew that he could not. He settled for the second best option, which was to reach for him, fisting one hand in the front of his shirt to pull him in for a kiss. He felt the minute hitch of Thanatos' breath just before their lips met, as if he could not believe it was real, and Zagreus set about proving to him that it was.

By the look on Thanatos' face when they parted, he surmised he had been convincing enough. 

"Zag," Thanatos breathed. He had braced his hands on Zagreus' shoulders and there they clutched at his frame and the fabric of his shabby T-shirt. "Gods. I have to be coherent for the debate in... I don't know. Soon. I should have already left." But he was not letting go.

"Just making sure I got my point across, Than." He couldn't stop grinning. "Did I do a good job?"

"Like you don't know. Don't fish for compliments." 

Zagreus laughed, taking those words as one. Regretfully, he released his hold on Thanatos, and was pleased to see that it seemed to take him some effort to do the same.

"I won't keep you any longer, then. I'll see you later?"

"Yes, I'll see you after the debate. It's just an exhibition to recruit new members, I don't imagine we'll go longer than ninety minutes." He sounded like he was saying this for his own benefit as much as Zagreus' which, to the latter, felt like another laurel for his crown. "Stop looking so smug, Zagreus. You're incorrigible. I'm going to be late because of you."

Leaning back, Zagreus fished his phone out from under the pillow and turned on the screen. There were over fifty messages from the Olympus chat, which would no doubt prove entertaining, as all live reports of their parties were, but he ignored those for the time being. "It's still 9:30. I thought the debate started at 10."

"I have to be at the auditorium early. I'm the first debater for Styx." 

It was, at most, a ten minute walk to the auditorium from the dorms if one took a leisurely pace, and Thanatos always walked with purpose. Nothing short of a natural disaster could have made him late. Perhaps even such unlikely eventualities were taken into account with his ample buffer; Zagreus would not have been surprised if this were the case. 

Nevertheless, he clapped Thanatos' shoulder twice, the universal off-you-go gesture that his sports history had drilled into his mannerisms, and the astute Thanatos, appearing to recognize it as such, gave him an amused look before standing up.  

In truth, watching Thanatos at that moment was not so dissimilar in spirit from watching his teammates gather themselves before skating onto the rink. Where hockey players might check their gear or fidget with their stick, there was likewise a ritual quality to Thanatos' movements as he straightened his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles left by Zagreus' fist, and infinitesimally tightened and centered the perfect full Windsor knot of his tie. His expression was stolid as he squared his shoulders, like a man headed to battle. For him, the debate may count as such. 

Then, unexpectedly, he turned his attention back to Zagreus. "Didn't you say yesterday that you were working on not staring so much?" His tone was deadpan, and Zagreus could not tell if he was bothered or not, but he had a point.

Sheepishly, he replied, "Sorry about that. It's a work in progress. Does it make you uncomfortable when I stare?"

A pause. "Sometimes."

"Oh. Sorry. I'll do my best to avoid that from now on."

"You don't need to." Thanatos frowned, seeming to struggle with a thought before he found the words to pin it down. "I suppose what I'm saying is it can be a little overwhelming to feel so much of your attention on me, but it's not overwhelming in a bad sense. It's... flattering. I don't mind it."

"Then I'll probably keep doing it, if we're being honest with ourselves," said the young Zagreus, displaying remarkable self-awareness for once. "It's hard not to look."

The corners of Thanatos' mouth twitched upward. "Suit yourself. I'll take that as permission to do the same." He shook back his left sleeve to check his wristwatch and, showing faint alarm in the face of potential tardiness, his greatest fear, he announced, "It's 9:33. I really have to be going now." 

He began to turn away, then hesitated and, seemingly overcome by impulse as he rarely was, he bent down to plant a kiss on Zagreus' forehead. Taken unaware by that tender gesture, Zagreus felt his breath catch in his throat and was perfectly still, his preternatural hyperactivity contained by the softness of that unexpected moment. Thanatos' lips lingered for several heartbeats, and then withdrew, leaving the smitten Zagreus to stare up at him in adoration, and then follow him with his gaze as he beat a tactical retreat to the desk and busied himself with the contents of a briefcase, his back turned.  

An overdue realization struck Zagreus and swept him away with it, and it was this: the word crush didn't cut it anymore, if it ever had. Looking at his oldest friend fastidiously arranging his belongings, turned almost defensively away, Zagreus knew the fondness squeezing his heart for what it was. He was in love. 

He held that thought and sat quietly with it, marveling that he had taken so long to see the truth of it. Perhaps it had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged.  

His musings were interrupted by the object of his redefined affections, who presently appeared to have succeeded in imposing the desired order upon his belongings and fastened the briefcase closed. "One more thing, Zag." He paused, and Zagreus saw his shoulders tense and heard the carefully restrained uncertainty in his tone. "I wasn't sure if you would feel unwell when you woke up, so I texted Megaera to ask if she could go with you to the doctor's office, in case your symptoms worsened. She agreed."

Still in the daze of his recent epiphany, Zagreus' mind struggled to process this new information, which it managed with difficulty and a vague sense of trepidation. "Oh. She doesn't need to be at the debate?"

"Not until about an hour from now. She's last in our roster, as club president." Thanatos held the briefcase at his side and turned to look at Zagreus, a hesitant air about him. "Should I not have asked?"

The conflicted Zagreus considered the question, one for which there was no simple answer. Despite the rather tumultuous nature of his relationship with Megaera—his former high-school sweetheart and one of Thanatos' closest friends—Zagreus recognized the good faith in that request: Thanatos was relying on the person he trusted most to help when he himself could not. The possibly-concussed athlete tailored his response in accordance with this insight. 

"No, it's fine. I know you're worried, and having Meg accompany me would probably help put you at ease."

"It would, but this isn't about me. If I've overstepped—" 

"Than. I told you, it's okay. We'll be fine, we've been doing remarkably well at civil conversation lately." Thanatos regarded him dubiously, as if he could read his misgivings on his features—a likely circumstance, for the earnest Zagreus had never been adept at concealing his emotions, though still he persevered thus: "Granted, we're not exactly friends at the moment, but I'm sure we can manage a peaceful ten minute walk in each other's company. I don't mind that you asked her."

There was a strained quality to Thanatos' voice when next he spoke. "You know you can tell me if I do something that makes you uncomfortable, right?" 

In the wake of such a question, uttered with a weight that belied its apparent simplicity, the uneasy Zagreus vainly searched his partner's expression for clues as to his train of thought, for he was quickly sensing that the conversation had shifted away from the difficulties of his relationship with Megaera to probe at a deeper concern, and he feared the answer that came to his mind was not the one being sought. 

"I know," he said, every word a careful step in the dark. "You asked her because you're concerned, and I'm grateful for that, Than. What do you want me to say?"   

Thanatos scowled. A moment too late, Zagreus realized his metaphorical foot had stepped on the wrong floorboard.

"I don't want you to guess at what I want you to say, Zagreus. Just tell me what you want to tell me. That's why I asked, even if I did it after the fact." 

By virtue of their long acquaintance, the surprised athlete intuitively recognized that this was only an echo of whatever worry had gripped Thanatos, but not knowing its true source he could not attempt to assuage it. "I know, I just... it's complicated. It's not that I don't want to be around Meg, I just get the feeling she doesn't particularly want to be around me. But she said yes, so that's that. I'll go with her." He balled his hands into fists in his lap, observing with desperation the guarded slant of Thanatos' amber eyes, his tight grip on the briefcase handle, his body angled toward the door. "Are you upset with me?"

"No, Zagreus, I'm not upset," he retorted, yet the heavy sigh that followed seemed to debunk the credibility of his words; he must have realized this himself, for he added, "Don't mind me. There's no point in arguing about this. If you're feeling well and you'd rather go alone, please text her and let her know. I have to go." He moved to open the door. 

Zagreus hastily called, "Okay. I'll see you at the auditorium later?" 

He suppressed a wince at the antsy edge in his voice. Thanatos surely noticed it as well, for he stopped in the threshold, one hand on the doorknob, halfway out of the room. "Yes, Zagreus. I'll see you later." He regarded Zagreus a moment longer, hovering on the edge of speaking again, but then he glanced down at his watch and sighed again, seemingly despairing of finding whatever words he was looking for. All he said was, "I'm going now." 

"Good luck, Than." 

His boyfriend nodded, and then he was gone. Zagreus, now alone in the room, buried his face in his hands and groaned.

In a bid to impose order on his thoughts, the restless Zagreus enacted it outwardly on the space around him. There was precious little that required tidying up in Thanatos' room, but he cracked the windows to let fresh air in and made the bed, a task he invariably shunned in his own chaotic quarters. His attempts to figure out how to tuck the corners of the bedsheets as sharply as they had been the previous evening found little success, which led him to quickly downgrade his aspirations from Thanatos' exacting standards to an average level of neatness. After he was done, he gathered his bag and returned to his room.

The curtains were half-drawn and, for once, Hypnos was not napping on any of the plush furnishings. Most likely, he was at the auditorium, if only to secure a comfortable seat where he may snooze until the debate started. Zagreus grabbed a change of clothes from his drawer, on his way stepping over an oft-perused promotional pamphlet for Olympus University sent by Athena months ago, as well as one of Hypnos' many pillows, and headed into the bathroom to take a shower. 

Impulsively he turned the water on as hot as it would go, and stood under the spray until his skin was numb from it. The discomfort in his quickly-reddening shoulders served to temporarily soothe the maelstrom of unwelcome thoughts swirling in his mind. When he emerged, flushed from the heat, the notification light of his phone was flashing, and there was a curt text from Megaera. 

He dressed quickly, gave his hair a perfunctory pass of the towel to dry it and hurried outside, where his ex-girlfriend waited with her hands on her hips, exuding impatience.   

By way of greeting, she said, "Come on. Let's go get your head checked. I don't have all morning." Then she turned around and set off briskly down the hallway. 

He followed her with his eyes first, mentally arming himself with an arsenal of charming quips with which he might attempt to deflect her scorn and insinuate himself into her good graces for the duration of their walk, if not permanently—for, indeed, there was only so much one could hope to accomplish within the span of a few minutes. 

"Appreciate the vote of confidence," muttered the anxious Zagreus, discharging his nerves by protesting the words of this humble narrator. Compulsively he wiped his sweaty palms on the front of his pants and then jogged to catch up. Once they were level, he risked a sideways look. 

The ever-imposing Megaera had dressed formally for the debate, foregoing her usual form-fitting wear in favor of a royal blue blouse, puffed at the shoulders and tucked into a pencil skirt, and her customary spiky jewelry had been replaced by simple golden studs to adorn her pierced ears. She wore high heels that tapered to a point. Barefoot, she would already have towered above Zagreus' modest height, but the shoes made her nearly a full head taller than him. They clicked sharply on the linoleum with every purposeful step. 

The impressionable Zagreus knew better than to voice any compliments, in light of the uncertain ground on which he currently stood with her, but nevertheless found himself awestruck by her commanding presence. He spared a silent prayer for whoever of the Elysium debaters would have the misfortune of facing her; more than ever, she looked like a vengeful goddess.  

"If you've got something to say, spit it out, Zagreus," she snapped, no doubt aware of his less-than-subtle scrutiny.

"Sorry," he said, a reflex that he had never unlearned with her, and saw her roll her eyes. "I wanted to thank you, Meg. For the company. I feel fine, but it's still a nice gesture."

"You know I'm doing this for Thanatos, not for you."

"I figured as much. Still, thanks. I know he appreciates it, and so do I."

"You're welcome, Zagreus." She smirked, a familiar expression that made the ghost of warmth bloom in his chest, even though he suspected her amusement to be at his expense. Such suspicions were quickly confirmed. "I told Than he shouldn't worry, since your skull's too thick for any lasting damage, but he didn't seem convinced." 

"Harsh, Meg. But probably true." 

She hummed in response, as if to say of course it's true . It was matter-of-fact, a barb untipped with the venom that he had come to expect from such thinly-veiled indictments of his character. Whether this glimpsed mercy was the fruit of her most charitable mood, which he had not enjoyed in quite some time, or else a sign that the anger she had long harbored for him had morphed into cold indifference, he did not wish to know.    

Presently she interrupted his anxious musings by pleasantly saying, "From what Thanatos told me when he texted me, it seems you're done dancing around each other. I'd say congratulations are in order."

"Thank you," replied the surprised Zagreus. "He told you already, then. That was fast." Thanatos was a private person; that he had been so eager to share the news of their relationship warmed Zagreus' heart, in spite of his unease regarding the unfortunate turn of their most recent interaction. 

"Of course he told me. He's one of my best friends." The piercing look that accompanied her retort triggered a notion that, perhaps, this conversation would not be the friendly overture that Zagreus might have hoped for. He tried not to squirm under her gaze and failed miserably. "You seem uncomfortable, Zagreus. I'm sure I'll regret asking this, but is something the matter?"

"Just have a lot I've been thinking about today is all."

"You, lost in thought? That can't possibly end well."

He huffed out a laugh. "You're telling me."

It had been a jest at his expense, and yet an insightful one, for Megaera had experienced first-hand the disastrous consequences of allowing the naturally-impulsive Zagreus to wallow in his thoughts for longer than was his usual inclination. He noted her expectant glances in his direction as they continued down the hallway, which soon enough convinced him to elaborate. As long as they were walking side by side, he figured, they might as well speak of something, and no promising alternatives came to mind.  

"Here's a proposition, then, Meg. You listen to my worries, which I'm sure will sound quite absurd to you, and you may feel free to mock me if you so feel the need, but tell me your opinion after. What do you say?"

She released a low, pensive hum. "Zagreus, if you really think your worries are absurd, why would you need me to tell you that?"

"They don't feel as absurd as I'm trying to tell myself they are," said the troubled athlete. "I want to hear what you think. I trust your judgment."

The evaluating look she turned on him then planted a seed of doubt, and he second-guessed the wisdom of his request, but before he could think to retract it, she nodded. "Very well. Let's hear it, then, Zagreus. It's about Thanatos, isn't it."

"Yes and no," he replied, taken aback, for he always found himself unprepared when faced with Megaera's intuitive understanding of his character. "It's uncanny how you're still able to do that. I didn't say anything yet."

"Call that an educated guess. There aren't many other reasons you'd be wound so tight. Keep talking."

"You know how I texted him about the poster yesterday, right?" 

Megaera smirked. "I remember. When he saw the messages, I believe his exact words were 'I want to die'."

"Were they? Well, I'm glad he was flattered and I didn't make a total fool of myself," said Zagreus with a chuckle, having correctly assessed Thanatos' flustered reaction from such a phrase, but quickly his expression turned serious again. "I spent hours after that worried it looked like I was making unwanted advances, and that I'd upset him and he'd get tired of me."

"Come on, Zag. Thanatos, get tired of you?"

He felt himself flush at the incredulity in her voice. "Look, just let me finish. Unsurprisingly for you no doubt, it turned out he wasn't tired of me, so that part was fine—better than fine, actually—but now I think maybe I did upset him, earlier this morning." He spoke passionately, with his sight nebulously fixed on the fire door at the end of the hallway, so he was fully unaware of the upward journey of Megaera's sculpted eyebrows. "And I keep thinking, what if I mess it all up? If I go to Olympus, we only have about two more months together here, and he said he'll support me, but what if I do something wrong and he decides long-distance isn't worth it?" 

He had to take a moment to simply breathe after so vehemently disgorging his concerns, and glanced up at his ex-girlfriend, who had the familiar pinched look she reserved for exceptionally daft statements.

"That," she began, that single syllable already laden with judgment, "is the stupidest thing you've said in some time. Then again, we haven't talked in a while, so maybe there have been other contenders for that title and I just haven't heard."

"I guess I did give you full permission to mock me," conceded the chastised Zagreus. They had reached the side exit of the dormitories, and he stepped forward to push open the door and held it for Megaera. "After you."

As she passed by him, stepping out onto the path that would lead them alongside the track field and to the building that housed the campus doctor's office, her striking hazel eyes scanned his face, unsubtly marking his visible injuries, and he had a moment to wonder how bad the bruising looked before he followed her out. 

"Asterius must have knocked you around hard if you really believe what you just said, Zag." She sighed, conveying an air of exasperation wholly justified given the circumstances. "You know Thanatos as well as I do. He'll hem and haw as long as he's allowed to, but once he's made up his mind, he's almost as stubborn as you. He won't give up so easily just because he can't see you every day." She rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Zagreus. Transferring to a new school in a different city isn't the relationship killer you seem to think it is."

He did not immediately reply, for he knew her appraisal of Thanatos to be true, yet her words resonated uneasily with the kernel of fear in his heart, for no other reason than because they were hers. He searched her expression, with some difficulty; she faced implacably ahead and would not meet his eyes. His lips gave shape to the dread uncertainty inside him.

"I didn't mean to mess things up between us either, when you moved away for college," said the earnest Zagreus, voice small to his own ears. "But I did anyway. I'm more sorry than I can possibly say, Meg. And I'm afraid of that happening again, with Than this time. You're both so dear to me, I—"

"Save it, Zagreus. I've heard enough of your apologies. And you must realize Thanatos doesn't want you to stay here for him if you really want to go. Or what, would you have wanted me to waste a year waiting around until you graduated high school?"

"No. That would have been dumb." The regret-stricken Zagreus thought back to the sorrows of that summer: his first girlfriend moving away to college just as he was beginning to grasp the full extent of his feelings for her, his best friend Thanatos moving away with her to the same distant school. Meanwhile Zagreus was left behind in his father's house, alone in a grim-faced town, clinging to a hope that he might manage to borrow his father's car to visit them or his absent mother, of whom he had only a distant childhood memory of a sun-kissed smile and a warm embrace. "Even back then, I understood that, as poorly as I handled it. I said a lot of stupid things to you."

"You're not abandoning him by going to Olympus, Zagreus."

Her voice was unexpectedly gentle as she said the words—perhaps because she was intimately aware that she was striking at the root of Zagreus' most persistent fear, the one that had held him in its thorny grip for most of his life. To hear it so succinctly stated made it seem so small, even as it threatened to overpower him.

"I don't ever want him to think I'm leaving because I don't want to be with him," he said, giving voice to that anxiety. "I do. I've told him I do, but it feels like he's still second-guessing it to some extent. When I leave, is that going to get worse?"

"I swear, you two idiots are made for each other." Spoken in that way, this did not sound like a compliment, but Zagreus nevertheless detected a hint of fondness in her tone. "Once you leave, I expect he'll mope for a time, and I'll be taking him out for drinks with more frequency to make sure he doesn't get too deep in his own head. Do expect me to invoice you for it if you hurt him and I end up dealing with your mess. Better yet—don't hurt him."

"I see we've moved past mockery and straight to threats. Or, at least, that's what that sounded like," observed Zagreus, smiling in spite of himself.

"Oh, it absolutely was. I like that you're quick to catch on." Her returning smile, if it could be called such, was forged out of sharp edges. "Than wants what's best for you, and he deserves to be happy, Zagreus. I won't forgive you if you break his heart."

"I won't. At least, I'll try my damnedest not to, and hope it's enough." 

They continued down the paved path in a sort of silence of a quality adjacent to comfortable, as close to it as the ever-talkative Zagreus was ever comfortable in such quiet moments. Shortly they reached the building that housed their destination, and again Zagreus opened and held the door for Megaera, feeling for once cautiously hopeful in her esteemed presence. In the heartbeats between each step, each sharp click of her heels stabbing the quiet of the empty hallway, his foolish heart gathered its courage and he was moved to speak again.

"Thanks for listening to me, Meg. I really appreciate it." He put his hands inside the pockets of his varsity jacket in an attempt to avoid fidgeting. She glanced at him, but said nothing. "For all I know, that was also for Than's sake more than mine, but I'm grateful anyway."

"You're welcome, Zag," she said, somewhat warily, as if she could sense what he would say next. 

"And it's nice, occasionally, to talk like this. Without, you know, feeling like you can't stand me. After the way things ended between us, I'd understand if you never wanted to see me again, but if there's even a chance that that's not the case—"

"The jury's still out on that one. Besides, we're here," she interrupted, stopping in her tracks, and jabbed her thumb at a door down the corridor. A door that was, in fact, the doctor's office, and it was ajar. Zagreus swallowed what he had been about to say. "Go on. I'll wait here. But if you take longer than ten minutes, I'm leaving."

"Right." Her expression was opaque, and he could find in it no purchase for the outsized hopes of his heart. In hindsight, it had been near hubristic to expect a single semi-friendly conversation could start to bridge the rift between them. Absently, he wondered how well their voices had carried down the hall. "Right," he repeated, and walked away. 

The dejected Zagreus took a deep breath and knocked. Shortly he heard Doctor Patroclus' deep voice call, "It's open."

"So it is," agreed Zagreus, as nonchalantly as he was able to manage, which was not much. He slipped inside and closed the door behind him, relieved when he heard it click. "Doctor Patroclus, sir, I was hoping you could examine me, if now's not a bad time. I got a bit battered yesterday, and coach Achilles—"

The doctor held up a hand, and Zagreus stopped rambling. "He told me." His dark eyes creased with a smile as he shrugged on his white coat. "Why don't you take a seat on the cot there, and I'll take a look at you."

"Thank you, sir." 

The polite Zagreus quickly did as he had been told, relieved for once to coexist in silence as the doctor examined him. 

The frequency of his visits to Patroclus' immaculate office lent a familiarity to the process, so that he required no prompting or explanation as the doctor gently poked and prodded at his injuries to test the extent of the damage. The routine of those ministrations relaxed him, which Patroclus seemed to notice, for he was a deeply perceptive man, much like his partner Achilles. He waited until the end of the exam to listen to Zagreus' heart and check his pupils. Then, in a tone of wry disbelief, he declared Zagreus the picture of good health.   

"You heal faster than any patient I've ever had," Doctor Patroclus said, applying light pressure to Zagreus' cheekbone, where Asterius' knuckles had impacted. "By all rights you should have a black eye, but the bruising is mostly healed already. Does it hurt?"

"It's a bit sore, sir."

"'A bit sore', he says. Well, I'm sure you'll be good as new soon enough. You don't show signs of concussion." He let out a long-suffering sigh and stepped back. "And don't be offended if I say I don't want to see you in my office again for the remainder of the semester. You're in here far too often, I fear."

Zagreus sheepishly acknowledged the truth of that statement. Giving his thanks, he put his varsity jacket back on. He had lost track of time during the exam, and wondered if Megaera would still be waiting outside. Doctor Patroclus sat down at his desk to make notes in a file, but when his patient stood from the cot, he glanced up and pointed to a large tupperware placed beside him. 

"Before you go, feel free to help yourself. I made cookies last night, if you're interested."

"Oh wow, yes please," immediately replied the ever-hungry Zagreus, for it was a feat beyond his means to turn down the doctor's baked goods, a delicacy worshipped with particular fervor by the members of the Styx hockey team. The attractiveness of the offer was further compounded by the fact that he had skipped breakfast that morning, as his growling stomach eagerly reminded him. He peered into the tupperware at the three varieties available. 

"Take two, if you'd like," said Patroclus, with a knowing lilt in his voice. "One of those for the lady outside, perhaps. As a peace offering, if you will."

Zagreus did, wrapping them separately in paper napkins from a stack placed beside the container. He thought about Thanatos, sitting beside him when he had woken up, and wondered if he had eaten anything before the debate. He glanced at the doctor and asked, "Is it okay if I take three?"   

"Be my guest."

Zagreus thanked him and excused himself, three cookies wrapped and lovingly tucked inside the pockets of his jacket. 

When he stepped out into the hallway, he expected to find it deserted, but Megaera was where he had left her, scrolling on her phone, her right foot tapping impatiently on the floor. 

"I was about to leave," she said at his approach.

"Glad I got here first then." He gave her a smile, recalling Patroclus' words: a peace offering. "How would you like a cookie?"

The question appeared to placate her mood, if only by virtue of its unexpectedness. "You got cookies from the doctor's office?" 

"He makes them for the team sometimes. Your sisters love them, actually. As much as they're capable of loving anything, anyway." He took out the three palm-sized bundles and unwrapped them enough to see which was which; then, he returned one to his pocket. "Okay. Pick one out of these two. Chocolate chip or peanut butter?"

"What's the third one?"

"White chocolate and macadamia nuts, but I can't give it to you, it's Than's favorite. Sorry." He held out her two options, one in each hand. "If you can't decide, we can take half and half. Like good friends."

"Oh? These must be god-tier cookies, if you think they're enough to buy my friendship." It stung to hear her so clearly spell out that he currently held no claim to such a bond, but she delivered the jab without malice, the way she had used to tease him before everything had turned sour between them, and so he clung to his far-fetched hope of reaching a truce. "Let's split them, then."

She reached out to do so with a care that rather surprised him—unhurriedly, seemingly trying to get perfect halves, or as close to it as the consistency of the dough would allow. There was a strangely ceremonial quality to the process, or so it felt to Zagreus as he stood before her in the otherwise empty hallway, holding out the offerings with steady pulse as she performed her task. 

When she was done, she regarded with satisfaction her handiwork: the crumbly, serrated edges of the four pieces. Peremptorily, and without so much as a thank-you in his direction, she said, "Give me one of the napkins."

Zagreus hurried to do so. He shifted his halves onto his right palm and offered the napkin on the left. As she took it, errant crumbs slid off and down the sleeve of his jacket, tickling his arm until he shook them out. 

"Go on, try them."

"Fine." There was a pause of deliberation, and Zagreus realized then there might be some difficulty to the task if she meant to avoid smearing her lipstick before the debate. He had an instant to wonder if she would break off a piece with her fingers, but it turned out she was only considering which one to try first. She brought the chocolate chip one to her lips and bit into it, unconcerned. Her mouth left a pink print on the edge, but her lipstick defied his expectation and did not budge. 

"Your lipstick's magical," said the fascinated Zagreus. 

Once she had swallowed, she said, "Mm. Not magical, but close enough." Then she bit into the other cookie. Zagreus watched her expression, awaiting her verdict. At length, she said, "Stop staring, Zagreus. Aren't you going to eat yours?"

"Oh, right," he said, feeling quite foolish. 

He proceeded to do as prompted and chose not to be disheartened by the vaguely horrified look Megaera sent his way when he stacked his two different halves and bit into them at once as if he were eating a sandwich, like an uneducated savage. Perhaps the act of finding new ways to consume his food in as barbaric a manner as possible was a source of amusement to him, for he chuckled at this humble narrator's description of his frankly disgusting behavior.   

The dignified Megaera made no further overtures to conversation until such a time as they had both finished their snack, she having done so with far more refinement and patience. Eventually, as they neared the auditorium, she said, "When the debate is over, Zagreus, you should talk to Than. I don't know what you might have said to upset him, if you did, but you should fix it."

Zagreus nodded. "I'll find him when it's over. He's usually not in the most talkative mood after a debate, though. He needs time to unwind."

"Do you really think he'll be able to unwind after you just had an argument?" Megaera scoffed. "Talk to him, Zagreus."

"Yeah, you're right. I will." 

"And stop overthinking everything. I hate to admit this, but your lack of circumspection has always been part of your charm. This insecurity isn't a good look on you."  

Briefly he considered calling her out on veering so close to paying him a compliment, but decided against it. Despite the animosity that had characterized several of their interactions since his arrival at Styx, hearing her speak of him without rancor in her voice gave him some hope that not all was lost. And, as ever, she was right about him—his heart, foolish as it may be, had never led him astray. 

"You're right." He scrubbed his face with his hands, pushing down the apprehension that rose in him. "You know, I really love him, Meg. It's all a little scary right now." 

He was taken aback by hearing her laughter beside him, for it was not a scornful sound, but rather her real laughter, short but rich with benevolent amusement. He looked up at her in amazement. "Of course you love him," she said, for he had spoken words so obvious they need not be stated. "You don't feel anything by halves. You just can't help yourself, can you, Zag."

"Maybe so," he agreed, smiling around the tightness in his chest. "And... sometime, if you're not opposed, you and I should talk, too. I don't want to leave without clearing the air between us. If that's alright with you."

The beautiful Megaera's expression had sobered, and she considered him for a moment that dragged out tortuously for the hopeful Zagreus; eventually, she said, "I'll think about it," which was not a no .

"That's all I ask." 

They stood now outside the auditorium, and Thanatos' bewitching baritone drifted from inside, the volume of the speakers not entirely dampened by the heavy brass doors. The lovestruck Zagreus gravitated toward the sound, reaching out to curl his hand around the brass handle.   

"Thanks for the cookies, Zag," Megaera said, with a faint smirk. Her lipstick was still perfect. "Now go in there and watch your boyfriend wipe the floor with Theseus."

Boyfriend. Truly it was a wonder his face did not split in two, so widely was he grinning at that word. "Yeah. Yeah, I can't wait." 

She gave him a knowing look and turned away; as he opened his mouth to ask, she explained, "I'm taking the other entrance. I have to go in through the wings." 

"Oh, right. Well, see you later then."

"See you around, Zag," she called over her shoulder. 

The ever-warmhearted Zagreus watched her walk away for a moment longer; then, with a smile on his face and the sound of Thanatos' voice in his ears, he pushed open the doors and let himself into the auditorium.

Afterward, he would remember very little of the debate itself. 

He slipped through the side doors with care, pushing them open just wide enough to pass without triggering the complaints of the rusty hinges. In the audience he spotted a number of familiar heads, among them Hypnos' tousled curls and his classmate Dusa's dark green braids but, rather than approach either of them, he quickly found an empty seat nearby with a good view of the stage and the two modest podiums upon it. 

Behind the one on the left stood Thanatos with perfect poise, convincingly exposing some argument or other; his voice rang evenly and compellingly into the microphone before him and throughout the chamber, and Zagreus found himself warmed by its very sound even if the elegant syllogisms it laid out found no immediate purchase in his mind. The opposite podium was attended by the likewise familiar, if far less esteemed figure of Theseus, of Elysium College, who had once before faced Thanatos in official competition and been thoroughly defeated. Judging from the scoreboard, history was looking to repeat itself. 

Time stretched out agonizingly. 

The restless Zagreus had never so deeply resented the experience of socially-enforced idleness as he did for the forty minutes he sat in that auditorium. His mind was whirring as he processed the conversation with Megaera and her encouraging words regarding Thanatos and his potential transfer. 

Just a day ago, he had feared that going to Olympus might disappoint his idolized coach, that Thanatos may not reciprocate his affections, that Megaera might never again deign to give him the time of day. Now that all those concerns had been banished, he considered the possibility that his current insecurities may be just as misguided, and he was so filled with renewed excitement about the changing direction of his life that he could not bear to sit still.

When Thanatos' intervention ended, and the judges put their heads together to confer about his score, Zagreus caught his eye briefly. He sat close enough to the stage that he saw the shadow of uncertainty that flitted over Thanatos' features then, and the minute relief that replaced it when Zagreus gave him two thumbs up. Thanatos coughed discreetly into his fist, perhaps concealing a smile. 

The remainder of the debate he whiled away on his phone. He read back what he had missed in the Olympus group chat, namely the recounting of their most recent debauch, and found himself holding back laughter as he scrolled down the increasingly drunken conversation. 

The epic tale of Dionysus' improvised party was a compelling, if fragmentary, narrative told across dozens of text messages, pictures, and brief audio clips from various contributors who became progressively more unreliable as the evening progressed. Only one among them, Zagreus' wise and responsible cousin Athena, preserved the continuity by requesting or providing periodical updates on the whereabouts and activities of her far more inebriated co-protagonists. 

The story was light-hearted in tone and dealt primarily with the events and debauchery of the party itself, though halfway through the night a theft subplot emerged, as Dionysus claimed one of his bottles of Ambrosia had been stolen from his person by some unknown entity, a claim tactfully questioned by Aphrodite and later accepted by Artemis as a personal quest. Scrolling to the end, the identity of the alleged thief was not revealed, although some closure was given, as Artemis provided proof of her successful tracking of her alcoholic quarry around 4AM, in the form of a picture of said item sitting, inexplicably, in the shower in Ares' room. No further speculation was made about this circumstance.

The young Zagreus followed the various threads of the conversation to their conclusion with fondness and the practiced ease of one who received and deciphered such drunken chronicles at least once a week. Now and then, he glanced at the proceedings on the stage. 

During one such occasion, he saw on the Styx side that Megaera was getting ready to take Thanatos' place at their podium. She lightly placed a hand on the small of his back to signal her presence behind him, and Thanatos turned to whisper to her something the microphone did not pick up, and moved to take the seat she had vacated near the wing. Even from a distance the familiarity in their manner was unmissable, and the sight of it made warmth surge in Zagreus' chest.

In that moment, in spite of the difficulties that no doubt lay ahead, he felt like he could move forward. Achilles' sage advice from the previous day— try not to get so caught up in thinking you become afraid to act — resonated in his mind with the weight of truth. He had debated long enough. 

He looked down at the group chat again, the blurry pictures of his cousin and her friends preemptively celebrating his transfer. After sending a few replies they probably wouldn't see until they awoke from their hungover stupor, he swiped out of the conversation and opened a chat with Athena.

> hey thena

> so uh the transfer papers

> i might need help with the motivation letter sometime when you're available

> how do i write a motivation letter to UNCLE ZEUS???

owlthena is typing...

When finally the exhibition drew to a close, and with it Zagreus' obligatory inactivity, he sent a final message to his cousin and abandoned his seat among the audience to find Thanatos. 

At the foot of the stage, the victorious Styx team stood fielding informal congratulations by the few faculty members present and inquiries by a handful of students who appeared to be prospective members. Zagreus saw that Thanatos had been engaged in conversation by one of the latter, and was replying to questions in a cordial manner that nevertheless appeared laced with the desire to put a swift end to the interaction. 

Biting back a smile, Zagreus went to his side without a word, not wanting to interrupt but hoping to provide through his proximity some measure of emotional support. He waited out the conversation as patiently as he was able, vainly attempting to tune out the Elysium competitor Theseus' sonorous lamentations to his boyfriend Asterius, which carried with unfortunate clarity from the hallway just outside. 

Before too long, the aspirant debater speaking to Thanatos concluded her business and walked away, at which point he visibly relaxed, for the gods had not made him to mingle, and turned his attention to Zagreus. "Good to see you, Zag." 

"You too." Zagreus noted the hesitation in his eyes and smiled to reassure him. "Congratulations on winning. You were fantastic! Made all the best arguments and looked handsome all the while. Flawless debate."

The corner of Thanatos' mouth twitched. "The judges don't score debates based on handsomeness, Zag."

"They don't? That's too bad. Guess you would've won by a larger margin if they did." Thanatos fixed him with an odd look and Zagreus added, "What? I can make up debate rules. You don't know how hockey works either."

"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?" 

"I just like talking to you," Zagreus said, earnestly sincere. "But you look like you're tired of so much talking."

A miserable sigh confirmed that guess. "I've talked so much this morning. I'm exhausted, Zagreus."

"So let's get out of here. Meg can handle it if someone else wants to ask about joining the club or congratulate you or whatever it is." Thanatos opened his mouth, doubtless to protest the suggestion of shirking even such minor responsibilities; before he could, Zagreus pressed his argument. "She's club president. And there's only a handful of people still hanging around. I'm sure she won't mind." 

He grabbed Thanatos' hand, and Thanatos in turn looked at Megaera, who was speaking to one of the judges some ten feet away, and caught her eye. 

Fascinated, Zagreus watched one of their wordless conversations happen; within the span of a few significant looks, Thanatos got an air of resignation, and Megaera glanced at the expectant Zagreus and helpfully translated the gist of their conclusion by making a shooing motion with her hand. Zagreus grinned at her and led his boyfriend to the door and out of the building. 

The hour was nearing noon, and some of the outdoor benches around campus were now occupied, as students began to drag themselves out of their Saturday morning slothfulness to purchase lunch, or breakfast as the case may be. Thus Zagreus was reminded of the cookie still inside the pocket of his jacket, and he took it out with his free hand and presented it to his weary companion. 

"Doctor Patroclus baked cookies. I got you this when I went to see him earlier." 

Thanatos tucked his briefcase under his arm and reached for the cookie with a small smile. 

Once he was holding it, however, he seemed to realize he could not unfold the napkin with only one free hand. He gave Zagreus an apologetic look and let go of his hand to unwrap the gift, saying, "Hold on a moment," as if Zagreus would have considered going anywhere. Having successfully revealed the contents of the napkin, he immediately took Zagreus' hand again. Zagreus' stomach did a funny flip. "Oh, it's white chocolate and macadamia nuts. I like this one."

"I know. That's why I picked it for you. You don't have to eat it now, I can put it away again if you want."

"No, I'm going to eat it," he affirmed at once. "Thank you, Zag."

Zagreus stifled a laugh at the defensiveness in his response and how he immediately took a bite. "You're very welcome. Do you want to walk around a bit? Fresh air's probably good for you, right?" 

Thanatos hummed in agreement, and so Zagreus led them off the paved path to wander aimlessly around campus, content to spend time together without any particular hurry to be elsewhere. The day was warm, and a spring breeze carded light fingers through their hair as they walked past the dormitories and the gregarious students that milled in their vicinity. 

He lapsed into silence for his partner's sake, but knew that Megaera had been right about the necessity of talking to him. He would have broached the subject then, had Thanatos not beat him to it, like so: "Zagreus, about this morning... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have walked out like that."

His nervous remorse was evident in the way he spoke and in the slant of his eyes. The equally nervous Zagreus, having spent much of the morning similarly concerned about the circumstances of said abrupt departure, was flooded with relief. "Don't worry about it, Than. You're not upset?" he asked, though the answer was now clear to him.

"No, I'm not. I think I was, at the time, but once I was halfway to the auditorium, it all seemed so... pointless. I wanted to turn back and make sure I hadn't upset you , but..."

"You would have been late if you had," Zagreus finished for him, and chuckled at his nod of confirmation. "You could have simply texted me, you know."

"I didn't think of that." A bemused frown creased his brow, as if he could not fathom how such a simple course of action may have eluded him, which the relentlessly extroverted Zagreus could not help but find endearing. "I don't text all that often, so it just didn't occur to me. It's only ever you and Megaera who write to me anyway."

"Hypnos writes you."

"Hypnos! My brother shouldn't be allowed to text. He insists on using commas to form ellipses, it's distressing." With an affronted sigh he punctuated this denouncement, and Zagreus laughed at the uniquely characteristic quality of his complaint. At the sound of it, Thanatos' disgruntled expression softened, and he squeezed Zagreus' hand before speaking again, haltingly at first. "In any case... let me apologize properly. I wasn't fair to you. I know you meant well. It's just, when I realized you were trying to set me at ease, all I could think was that I don't ever want you to feel like you need to do something you're uncomfortable with, just because you think it'll make me happier. But I'm sure you know that already. You'd tell me if I did something wrong, wouldn't you?"

The enamored Zagreus' first impulse was to deny that such a thing was possible, but of course that would have been untrue, no matter how keenly he may have felt it so. It was not inconceivable that they may accidentally hurt each other as their relationship continued to evolve. And as his initial unreasonable expectation receded, a more comforting notion took its place—the certainty that, while occasional conflict may be inevitable, and had indeed occurred throughout their lifelong friendship, it would never be insurmountable as long as they resolved to be open with each other.

"If you did make me uncomfortable—which you haven't—then yes, I'd talk it over with you. I hope you'll do the same." An answering nod, at that. Zagreus squeezed Thanatos' hand back, which immediately felt insufficient as a display of affection; to compound the sentiment, he settled for bringing it up to press a kiss against his knuckles. "I was a little nervous about being alone with Meg, but it went well, I think. Talking to her helped."

Thanatos smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. So then... are we good?"

"We're good." 

Better than good , he would have said, yet he simply grinned, seeing his thoughts reflected in the soft lines around Thanatos' sharp features—the fond crinkling around his eyes, the dimple that formed at the corner of his mouth when he smiled. Zagreus made no attempt to disguise his admiration. 

Only after a fashion did he recall the brief exchange at the end of the debate, and sheepishly said, "Should we walk in silence the rest of the way? I don't mean to keep you talking while you're tired."

"I'm the one who started it," Thanatos wryly pointed out, but he looked to be considering the offer. At length he said, "I wouldn't mind if you want to continue talking, as long as you don't expect me to participate much. I like hearing you talk."

Zagreus felt himself flush at this revelation. "You... you do?" The warmth in his cheeks intensified as Thanatos gave him a look that made him seem as though he were laughing without laughing; it was a familiar expression, but felt different than it ever had, playful and teasing. He swallowed nervously, his mouth having suddenly gone dry, then asked, "What would you like me to talk about?"

"Anything you like. Tell me something you're excited about. Tell me about Olympus." His voice softened, warm, and it was a wonder to Zagreus that his own cadence could be praised by someone who sounded like that. "You're accepting their offer, aren't you? You said 'if' yesterday."

Being so directly asked, he might have expected his determination to waver as it had before, but it did nothing of the sort. His heart was set, and he recognized the unwavering support threaded through the question.

"I'm going, yeah. I'll miss everyone here, but I have to do this. I'll regret it if I don't. And even if it's hard to be away from you, I believe in us. I'm done worrying. We'll make it work." 

He lifted his eyes from the dirt path under their feet and found Thanatos looking at him as if he were some unspeakable wonder of the world.

"You're right." His voice quivered, a ripple on the usually calm surface of the well of emotion inside him. So slight was this tremor that anybody else might have missed it, but Zagreus heard and held it close. "Zagreus. Talk to me as we walk, all right? Tell me anything you like. I want to hear you." 

"Anything for you, Than," Zagreus told him, and proceeded to honor his statement.

As words rose whimsically to the forefront of his mind, the chattery Zagreus allowed them to spill forth. He began with Olympus and its hockey program, a matter they had previously discussed, but this time rather than complaining about his father's opposition, he spoke about his cousin and their friends on the team, and his excitement to play and prove that he deserved a regular place alongside them on the ice. 

Then his thoughts turned to the long drive between the two schools, and with a full heart he described to Thanatos the beautiful sights along the road: the startlingly clear waters of the river delta just north of Styx University, the small farm nearby, and beyond that the verdant plains he must cross on his way to the distant mountains, all the while warmed by the sun that rose higher and higher above as he drove. 

Throughout it all, Thanatos continued to hold his hand, tenderly brushing his thumb over Zagreus', and contributed thoughtful hums and occasional comments or questions. Zagreus answered every one of them with unflagging enthusiasm, gesticulating with his free hand, and fantasized about showing it all to him one day soon. 

He glanced constantly at his partner's persistent smile and, at last, his absurd worries were definitively banished from his mind. The full extent of his love and his joy was packed into every word he spoke for Thanatos and he knew in his heart that Thanatos understood. 

Eventually their ambling footsteps led them back to Thanatos' room. The tired debater released the hand cradled inside his in order to open the door, but did not ask for solitude in which to recover his social energy after the morning's activities and, selfishly, Zagreus chose not to extend the offer. If Thanatos wished for space, he would ask for it, as he had before on similar occasions. 

However this time he did not, and so the self-indulgent athlete slipped in after him and let the door fall shut under his weight. He watched his boyfriend place his briefcase on his desk, loosen the knot on his tie, then smother a smile as he regarded the bed with its covers adequately smoothed and tucked only as sharply as Zagreus' untrained skills had allowed.

"I tried my best," Zagreus told him, sheepish.

"It's fine, Zagreus. I didn't say anything."

"I don't know how you make it so neat. I even Googled how to do it. It didn't turn out quite the same, though, I'm not sure why."

Thanatos snorted. "Come here, Zag." 

Zagreus did, and Thanatos reached out to cup his face with both hands, gently holding him for a moment before leaning down to kiss him. Zagreus held onto his wrists, unable and unwilling to move away. His face felt hot, or maybe Thanatos' hands were cold, but either way it filled him with warmth to be cradled like that. He heard himself sigh when Thanatos broke away. 

"Thank you for tidying up. And for coming to see the debate."

"Of course," Zagreus replied, and immediately felt compelled to add, "The doctor cleared me, by the way. No concussion. So you don't need to stop kissing me if you don't want to. I'm allowed to elevate my heart rate as much as I wish."

That elicited a rare laugh. "Is that so? Good to know." He bent his head down again, but not quite all the way. The impatient Zagreus felt his next words as a whisper across his lips. "Seeing as I don't want to stop." The last syllable was understood more than heard, as Zagreus tugged on his shirt to close the distance. Thanatos' mouth tasted faintly like white chocolate.

What followed from that point would be difficult to narrate but may be easily understood. 

Feverishly clutched clothing provided leverage for proximity and, just as quickly, became an obstacle to be conquered and discarded about the room. Their hands sought skin and their mouths wandered, only occasionally pausing in their exploration to ask permission or convey it with increasing fervor. The bedsheets that Zagreus had so carefully endeavored to tuck that morning shortly became a tangled mess. 

The full details of what transpired between them are best left undocumented. At a certain juncture, even the most exacting storyteller must cut away and leave some things to the imagination. If you must picture what occurred, picture this: two people in love, proving through touch what may not always be adequately conveyed through words, wrapped up in each other, laughing joyfully.

Later, they lay facing each other, still clinging together and whispering words of affection. They smiled and let their fingers trace idle shapes across the other's skin, their legs entangled on the too-small bed.

"We should get up and shower," Thanatos said after a fashion. "Sometime soon." 

"Sometime soon," the besotted Zagreus agreed, because logically he knew that they must, but he wanted so desperately to stay in that moment, just him and Thanatos with nothing between them. His heart felt impossibly full. Seconds trickled by, and he asked, "What are you thinking about?" 

"A number of things." Articulating them seemed a difficult task, for his brow furrowed in the attempt to do so, and his amber eyes searched Zagreus' face. "Earlier, you said you're 'done worrying' about us. You were worried before?"

"Just scared, I think. That I'd mess things up somehow. But it's such an abstract fear, and it's so exhausting to cling to it, I just decided to stop. Fear is for the weak, as Achilles likes to say."

"You just decided to stop worrying," Thanatos repeated, slowly, as if those words in that combination were incomprehensible to him. "Just like that, you're not going to worry ever again? A bold proposition, Zag. You'll have to let me know how it feels." 

"Are you worried?"

"I worry easily," came his unsurprising admission, accompanied by a wry curl of his mouth. "But I'm... I'm happy, too. I'm happy to be with you like this."

"I'm really happy to be with you, too, you know. And I've got a feeling we're going to be fine, Than. So from now on, I'm just going to do what feels right and stop getting caught up in my own head." 

To hear him speak thus, one could not help but think that he had finally learned his lesson about the futility of attempting to rein in the wants of his greedy heart—albeit with substantial help and multiple false steps along the way. But a lesson learned is a lesson learned in any circumstance.  

Thanatos wrapped an arm around his shoulders and edged closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead and allowing him to burrow into the embrace. 

"I'm still taking the poster, if you get me a copy," Zagreus told him. Whatever fancies he might conjure whenever he saw it on his wall would be a poor substitute for the real thing, but he would be happy for any piece of Thanatos he could take with him to Olympus, to tide him over until such a time as he could be so lovingly tucked into his arms again. "Even if you don't. I'll break into the cafeteria at night and steal the one up on the wall. I don't care."

He felt his partner's chest rumble with laughter, and smiled into it. "I'll see what I can do to keep you from a life of crime," Thanatos said, and held him close.