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Words on a page always seemed to sing to Zagreus: writing songs or stories, the words came easy. Even when it came to making conversation, his wit was never something he struggled with. Genuine compliments from his kind heart, snark to snark with his Olympian family, he never failed to have the perfect quip ready.
That is, until he was talking to Thanatos.
Something about the other man stole the cleverness from him; heart hammering in his chest and stomach squirming, butterflies as deadly as the ones in Elysium fluttering up to tie his tongue and make him make a fool of himself. He did try, really; he’d learned the hard way that trying to dance around his feelings never worked out well.
(He still has scars from Meg’s whip- it hadn’t been a good break up)
Nectar made it easier: it gave him an excuse to stop Thanatos before he left from their little fights, attempt to express affection in a way that wouldn’t scare Death incarnate off. Not that he ever seemed to appreciate the nectar, but he accepted it every time. Than was sure to get in a jab about how he gave this to everyone the last time they had run into each other, holding the nectar bottle in his sharp looking gauntlet.
And yeah, he kind of had him there. In his defense, though, giving nectar was an underworld tradition. It signified friendship, a bond, a deep respect: and as nice as sweet words were, Zagreus liked to follow up with action.
With Thanatos, though… it was something more. He felt it, so real and deep it scared him a little. The way he felt about Thanatos cut down to his heart: it was real, and deep, and he was so in love he might burst.
When he started getting ambrosia, the bottle weighed heavily in his hands. It was beautiful, ornate, truly a gift from the gods. He’s got no idea how a guy like Theseus got his hands on it but it was much better suited in his hands. The first bottle sits on his bookshelf for the first few runs after that, catching his eye every time he runs through, ready to fight through his father’s realm again and again. It deserved something special, to go to someone special.
The day comes faster than he expected.
.O.
Again, he crawls out of the Styx, gasping as the icy cold of the blood red water slides off him, shaking it out of his dark hair. Those fucking satyrs and their fucking poison; he grumbles at the thought, although dwelling on it, remembering the clawing, agonizing heat tearing up his lungs, his legs going weak and giving out under him, his body heavy as he desperately drags himself to the pool that will cure him-
He shivers, and shakes his head. Fear is for the weak. He has to keep going.
The flash of a dark cloak makes his head snap up. Thanatos is bowing in front of his father- Hades hasn’t noticed him yet- and he turns, drifting to wait by his usual balcony. This is exactly what he’s been waiting for, but he wants to move quickly; Thanatos’s free moments are few and far between, and Zagreus intends to take full advantage.
He darts past his father’s desk, past a surprised looking Nyx, and nearly trips over a towel in his doorway, cursing as he stumbles and tries not to break his neck. That’s all he needs right now, is to listen to Hypnos tease him over dying because of his own mess.
The ambrosia bottle is still warm to the touch, a comforting feeling that makes Zagreus feel at ease even without taking a sip. He rubs over the seal of the bottle, kicking the towel out of the way as he rushes back out of his room.
“Than!” The other man turns as he calls his name, and the sight of those gold eyes on him feels like an arrow through his heart. Cmon Zagreus, fear is for the weak. “Hey, um, I wanted to catch you before you left.”
Thanatos watches him carefully, and if Zagreus wasn’t so nervous, he’d notice the way his eyes soften at the corners, the way his shoulders droop slightly, his body opening up as much as it can with Thanatos’s stiff nature to the warm blooded prince. “Hello, Zag. What is it? Want to shower me with some more lavish gifts? Seems like you’re too stubborn to give up on that particular plan.”
Zagreus blushes deeply, shifting the bottle in his hands. “Actually, uh, yes. And you know me, I’m too stupid to give up on things.”
He smiles at that, a crooked smile, but it only makes Thanatos frown a little, tipping his head. “You aren’t stupid, Zagreus. You make stupid decisions but you aren’t stupid.”
Zagreus blushes, squeezing the bottle again. He doesn’t know how to deal with that, so he doesn’t. “Well, I mean… this stuff is the gift of the gods, so you know. This was the first bottle I won but you’re so busy on the surface…” He holds out the bottle of ambrosia, hoping it goes over better than the nectar. “You… mean a lot to me, Thanatos. I know I don’t always say it but I’m grateful for your company and your help. And… well. I wish I could see you more. I miss you.”
The last part slips out of his mouth before he can stop it, snatch the feelings between his teeth and swallow them back down, and his heart pounds in his ears once the words fall. That was, that was stupid, unnecessary, he shouldn’t’ve… Than was going to disappear now, it was too much-
Thanatos was staring at him, as Zagreus turns redder and redder and gets twisted up in his own thoughts, and the feel of the cool gauntlet against his hands makes Zagreus jump. Thanatos lifts the bottle gently from his hands, looking at him as he holds it close. He can’t read what’s in Thanatos’s bright eyes, but he hopes it’s good. He hopes he hasn’t been reading this wrong.
“... well. I can’t let one gift go unanswered.” Thanatos says quietly, a hand dipping into his robes. “Especially since I’ve let the rest go.”
Zagreus holds out his hand, and lights up when Thanatos puts his gift down. “Mort!” Zagreus says with delight, pulling the stuffed mouse close. “I thought you lost him!”
A small smile quirks the corners of Thanatos’s mouth, watching as Zagreus tucks the little mouse in his robes, the soft plush pressing under the scars under his pecs. Zagreus’s fingers touch them idly, instinctively.
They were the only scars that ever lasted.
“Well, I hope you’ll take good care of him.” Thanatos says softly. “He’s always been very fond of you.” Here he pauses, looking at him. “If you ever need me, use Mort. I’ll hear you.”
Zagreus blushes, smiling a little. “At least I know someone is looking out for me.”
The smile grows on Thanatos’s face, just a little. “Always, Zag.”
.O.
Zagreus gasps as he stabs the points of his spear into the hard lava rock of asphodel, holding a burn on his side. It was a lucky shot from a Burn Flinger, frowning as he touches his signed chiton. The burn is angry and radiates pain, bleeding into the scar under his pec. He traces the scar idly, shifting Mort to the other side to avoid any damage. He thinks it could be his imagination, but he could swear he hears a soft squeak under the fabric.
It makes him think of Than, honestly; he can remember when they were young, Thanatos’s eyes just as bright and sharp as ever even as a young boy. He’d found Zagreus, curled up and upset by some new rejection his father had given him; he’d squeezed himself into the small space and, rather awkwardly, shown him Mort and started to talk with him. It had been a little awkward- Than had never been good at talking with people- but Zagreus had appreciated it. Than had been the first person to use his preferred name, had quickly spread it along with Achilles that he was Zagreus, he was a prince.
“Gods, I love him so much.” Zagreus sighs, reaching down to rub Mort’s ear. “I really do. Kinda scary to realize huh Mort?”
He pulls the spear out of the ground- the spear of Achilles, a warm comfort in his hands- heading for the makeshift boat. “I wish he’d realize how wonderful he really was. I don’t know anybody I favor more in the underworld than him.”
He looks at the two boats critically, both rippling with magic. One, he could smell smoke, hear the creaky, low groans of his favorite boatman. The other, he could hear the whisper of running through the grass, the whistle of an arrow through the air. Artemis.
He steps onto the boat leading to the goddess, sighing softly. “... he deserves better than me Mort. More than a failure of a Prince who can't even run his father’s realm.”
The boat creaks and rocks under his feet, feeling the heat of the Phelgathon even through the fire wrapping up to his calves. “I wonder if Than knows how much I really like him. He always acts like I don’t care.” He mumbles. He shouldn’t talk to himself so much, but he did. Sometimes it was just a deep ache, so absolutely lonely he wanted to talk to anyone, even if it was just hearing his own voice. “I wish I could tell him how much I love him.”
He shakes his head, resting his spear on his shoulder as the next island slowly comes into sight, wavy with the heat coming off the lava. There was no time for that now- time to fight.
.O.
On the surface, cold wind howling through the small house, Thanatos is standing stock still, his cheeks almost hot, the soul in his hand forgotten as Zagreus’s words echo in his head, brought to him through Mort.
He probably should’ve told Zagreus that he could hear him calling through Mort; he could hear everything Zagreus said to the little companion, but he never thought Zagreus would...
I love him, I love him, I love him
“He loves me.” Thanatos whispers, almost in awe. “Zagreus loves me.”
There’s a flash of green, and Death is gone, landing somewhere in the fields of Asphodel