Work Text:
Asterius wasn’t sure why his half-sister’s ex kept coming to his gym and tagging him in workout pictures afterwards, but he wasn’t complaining; it helped him keep track of their shared workouts.
It was a little weird that these pictures were all of Theseus shirtless and sweaty, but that was how good workouts usually ended.
After all, Theseus was one of the only people who had ever beat him in a wrestling match before, and one of the few people who had never seemed intimidated by him, in or out of the ring.
Theseus had strode up to him before the practice match, loudly declaring that no matter how ‘magnificently burly’ Asterius was, he was going to win, and by the gods, he really did.
(While Asterius had both his bulk and reach to his advantage, Theseus had lightning fast reflexes and flexibility on his.
He was not expecting Theseus to be able to slam him to the ground with a snake-like hold and then pin him there for the referee to count to three, the fluorescent lights up above glowing in Theseus’ blonde hair.)
And then right after blatantly kissing Ariadne in the stands, he had come over to shake Asterius’ hand and demand his number because “obviously, we have to train together!”
Asterius hadn’t thought there was anything obvious about it, even if they happened to be on the same college wrestling team, but he had still bemusedly input his number into the blonde boy’s phone, expecting that at the very most, he might see him again at their fraught Thanksgiving family meal.
However, Theseus had immediately barraged him with texts, demanding to know where he worked out and when, and after hearing that he was just working out at the school gym, declared that was unacceptable for his great rival, and then dragged him to the Elysium Gym despite Asterius’ protests.
“I can’t afford this place,” Asterius had confessed, glancing around the glowing white walls and the gleaming gym equipment and cucumber water dispensers.
“That’s no problem, I shall pay for your membership fees here!” Theseus had said, slapping his shiny gold credit card down on the receptionist counter.
Asterius immediately shook his head at the bemused receptionist. “No—I really can’t allow you to do that—”
“An ability such as yours shouldn’t be confined to the recesses of the college gym!” Theseus pointed at him and expounded, “You are an amazing wrestler and warrior, with your strength only rivaled by my own. Such greatness deserves the best a gym can offer!”
“The college gym isn’t that bad—”
“It is a cesspool, and here we can train together like the champions we are!” Theseus interrupted, pushing his credit card further over towards the receptionist.
Asterius had paused then.
(No one had ever wanted to train with him before.
Back in high school, his coach had even set up a shift system of who had to train with him, and no one had seemed to ever enjoy it.
He hadn’t really either, since no one seemed to want to fight against him, but he had still persisted since an athletic scholarship had been his only chance at going to college, what with Minos declaring that as soon as he turned 18, he would be on his own.)
“You— want to train with me?” he had asked carefully.
“Of course!” Theseus had replied breezily, the receptionist already handing back his credit card. “How else are great rivals supposed to progress together? With you by my side, we shall compete and egg each other on to even higher levels of strength and fitness!”
So even though it hadn’t quite sat right with Asterius to be accepting Theseus’ charity, his desire for an actual person to compete against who was also enthusiastic about the sport had overridden his disquiet, and he pretty much stopped going to the school gym in favor of going to Elysium with Theseus.
It wasn’t too bad—Theseus genuinely seemed to enjoy training with him, keeping up a stream of conversation all on his own the entire time. All the while he would also compliment his form and his wins or boastfully extoll his own praises when he won.
(It actually began to feel too quiet when Theseus wasn’t there, as well.)
And then within a month, Ariadne broke up with Theseus in favor of one of his fellow fraternity brothers, Dionysus, as Asterius had found out when Theseus had loudly complained about it to him.
“She didn’t say anything to you?” Theseus finished plaintively.
“No,” Asterius managed to grunt out, lifting up the bar again. “We aren’t—exactly close.”
(Ariadne is nice enough, but the simple fact is, as the bastard offspring of their mother and some man she had fallen madly in love with at apparently a furry convention—Asterius sincerely wishes he could erase his memory of that conversation, although at least it hadn’t been the weird guy who had both a bull and a swan fursuit—their relationship was strained at the best of times, much less after Ariadne’s father had cast him out of the house, and Asterius had accidentally ended up as the same college as her.)
“Huh,” Theseus paused, seeming to mull that over a bit, “I just assumed—you have a great number of siblings, don’t you?”
“Half-siblings,” Asterius corrected before grunting as he set his weights down and said seriously, “I am sorry for your break-up. Your fraternity brother has no honor, stealing your girlfriend from you.”
Theseus pointed at Asterius from the spot where he was spotting him, “Indeed, exactly what I said, my friend! It has to be against some kind of regulation of brotherhood, to perform such a deed—and yet Hector says that our partners are all our own business, and he definitely cannot interfere in that kind of situation.”
“Are none of the others in your frat on your side?” Asterius asked curiously, sitting up and grabbing a towel to wipe at his neck.
Theseus shrugged, his eyes following where Asterius’ hands went. “Well—I will say that Hector is sympathetic, Odysseus has some clever idea that’s bound to somehow benefit him as well, and Jason, of course, thinks the best way is to immediately go on a dating spree—which I might, Pirithous seems game to join me! You are welcome as well, Asterius!”
(He was maybe starting to see why Ariadne had decided to break up with Theseus in the end.
Still—it was very nice of Theseus to offer.)
Asterius held up a hand, “I must decline—I do not think I would help either of your chances.”
Theseus sputtered a bit, drawing himself up to his full height, which is about level with Asterius’ shoulders. “Come now Asterius! Neither of us may have quite your level of spectacular musculature, but we are still godly specimens of manhood!”
“I mean that I would probably scare people away,” Asterius clarified, feeling a bit warm.
(Theseus’ compliments are as ridiculous and overblown as the man himself, but—
But it’s all still really nice to hear.
Asterius had never met someone so complimentary before.)
“What?” Theseus scoffed loudly (not that Theseus ever seems to do anything quietly). “That’s absurd, Asterius! How could you possibly scare anyone away! I’m sure as soon as you enter any club, you are absolutely surrounded by girls and boys vying for your attention.”
“That has generally not been my experience,” Asterius said delicately. “I generally get mistaken for a bouncer.”
(And also, the dark, crowded space with strobing lights and ear-splitting music tended to give him headaches.)
“I will correct their horrendous mistake!” Theseus said, looking so offended, as if someone had mistaken him for a bouncer instead. “They are obviously blind and mindless to have made such a mistake, and if they persist, I shall—”
“You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself on a dating spree,” Asterius cut him off and reminded him. “Go ahead, have fun.”
Theseus stopped, glancing at him with a furrowed brow. “…are you sure, my friend?”
“I am sure,” Asterius said with a small smile (it’s so nice to hear Theseus refer to him as a friend—he’s never really had one before). “Go have fun, and I hope you find what you are looking for.”
“Indeed I shall!” Theseus said, puffing up again. “After all—so what if your sister has decided to leave me, there are plenty of other beautiful fish in the sea! And I am a master fisherman!”
“Alright,” Asterius replied, bemused.
And after that, Theseus really did go on a binge, tearing up the town with his friend Pirithous and cousin Heracles in tow. Asterius heard about his many, many exploits, in more detail than he really wanted to hear, This was then followed by him dating Antiope, a fearsome star archer, and then Theseus apparently enraging her into nearly turning him into target practice by maybe cheating on her with Phaedra, another one of Asterius’ half-sisters (Theseus claimed he had just been flirting to make Antiope jealous, but who knew really). He then broke up with Antiope, really started to date Phaedra (at this point, he did ask Theseus if he truly thought this was a good idea, but Theseus just laughed and brushed him off), then Phaedra cheated on him with a freshman. That was obviously another breakup for Theseus, and then him and Pirithous apparently tried to hit on some wives of some of the visiting board members, only to get glared at and then tossed out of the room by campus security.
“It was humiliating,” Theseus admitted with a sigh, slumping down on the ground, lethargic as Asterius had ever seen him. “They looked at us like we were something disgusting that they had found on their shoe.”
“I don’t think Pirithous is a good influence on you,” Asterius said bluntly, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Hey! We’ve known each other since we were kids!” Theseus retorted then deflated again, running a hand through his blonde hair, “Although—he said he’s transferring soon—doesn’t want to wait and see what the board members might try to do…”
“Are you leaving too?” Asterius demanded, a cold feeling in his stomach.
(If Theseus leaves—
Who will he listen to chatter away from now on?
Who else will happily and enthusiastically train with him and seem to genuinely enjoy his company?
It will be empty without him by his side—)
“No, I am not so craven,” Theseus said, then tilted his head, a smile appearing on his face. “Why, Asterius—would you miss me if I left?”
“Yes,” Asterius replied instantly. “The team wouldn’t be the same without you, since you are a king on the field, and I—I enjoy training with you.”
Theseus visibly brightened, his chest swelling up as he stood up and beamed at Asterius, “You think I’m a king ?” he breathes.
“…you’ve called yourself a king during competitions before,” Asterius pointed out.
“Yes, but you have never called me that,” Theseus said before nodding to himself. “I like it. You may continue to refer to me as such!”
“…sure,” Asterius said, humoring him (at least he seemed more cheered up now). “If I do, will you focus on wrestling and less on—whatever led you to this entire mess?”
“An easy bargain to strike, Asterius. I accept!” Theseus said loudly, sticking his hand out to shake.
Asterius nodded, firmly grasped Theseus’ hand, and shook it, “Very well, king.”
Theseus’ already fairly obnoxious grin was now in danger of splitting his entire head. “I like the sound of that…” he purred, not letting go of Asterius’ hand and staring deep into his eyes.
Asterius stared and then coughed, pulling his hand back.
(He wasn’t entirely sure what Theseus was up to here, but it was probably best not to read too much into it.
After all—friends were hard to come by, and Theseus especially was—special to him.
Besides, Theseus could have anyone—has had a great variety he had even bragged about to Asterius, while Asterius was his intimidating, scary, hulking self, so—
So he shouldn’t overthink it.)
“…if you still miss Ariadne—I think that ship has sailed after everything with Phaedra, but—if you really want me to—I can try talking to her?” he offered instead.
Theseus’ eyes widened. “Aren’t you not close?” he asked, “I do not want to impose upon you, my friend—I know my behavior was rather—boorish with everything…”
“We’re not but—can’t hurt to try,” Asterius shrugged. “And yeah, you really messed up, but I think in the end, you have a good heart, king.”
For some reason, Theseus’ cheeks turned pink at that before he rubbed his neck and then laughed ruefully. “…you may be the only one who thinks so currently, Asterius, but I assure you, very soon, the campus will be ringing with my name once again!”
Asterius doesn’t remember the campus ever resounding with Theseus’ name except the time Antiope had been trying to kill him, but he nodded anyway. “I am sure of it, king.”
And Theseus is true to his word, no longer running off to cause trouble clubs and tales of his exploits go down to pretty much nothing as he lectures and hectors the team to do better, faithfully trains every day with Asterius, and their team even wins the championship under Theseus’ renewed leadership.
There was just this matter of getting tagged in sweaty workout pictures now that was kind of strange, but all in all, Asterius is very pleased with the situation.
“Good god, did he tag you in all of those?” Patroclus asks, leaning over his shoulder to stare at Asterius’ phone as Asterius waits patiently at Theseus’ frat house for him to return from class so they can go to the gym together. “Talk about a thirst trap.”
“Thirst…trap?” Asterius asks, his brow furrowing as he glances over at Patroclus.
“When someone is thirsty for your dick, and they want you to be thirsty about theirs too,” Achilles explains, sweeping in and landing a kiss on top of Patroclus’ head. “What’s going on? Is someone trying to seduce you away from me Pat? Tell me so I can go stab them—oh god, who is that, is that Theseus? Eugh—do you want to stab him Pat, or should I?”
“No one’s trying to seduce me, it’s Asterius he’s after,” Patroclus pats Achilles’ shoulder and nods at Asterius.
“And these photos aren’t bad!” Asterius argues, dismissing the rest of what Achilles said (Achilles is the star of the college track team and not a terrible person to workout with, but he’s also terribly dramatic, especially about anything that could tangentially involve his boyfriend).
“Well, I guess it’s fine if you think so,” Achilles says doubtfully, wrinkling his nose a bit.
“You could do so much better though, Asterius,” Patroclus says seriously.
“…I think you have the wrong impression of my relationship with the king—”
“Are you seriously calling him king? ” Ariadne demands, sweeping down the stairs, her hair a tangle. “I really thought everyone was exaggerating about that.”
“He agreed to focus more on wrestling if I did,” Asterius mumbles, putting his phone away and looking down. “And he has.”
Ariadne raises an eyebrow. “Wow—I think you’re the only person he’d actually keep a promise to.”
(That unfolds a nice warm feeling in his chest.
He knows of course how many people Theseus has let down, but at the very least—Theseus has never let him down before.)
“Still, I can’t say I approve,” Ariadne continues, giving him a critical once-over. “Even without everything with Phaedra—which by the way, mom still doesn’t know about, so you don’t go blabbing to her about all that, it’s a total mess—Theseus is also just shit in bed.”
(Oh god, why has Ariadne gotten this vocal about her sex life, Asterius doesn’t want to even imagine his half-sister on a bed.)
Asterius grimaces and quickly stands up, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “I really don’t need to know about this—”
“Dionysus has some friends who are like wow at it though. Want me to introduce you to them?” Ariadne continues blithely, grabbing some grapes from the fruit bowl and eating some.
“Why do you know—I don’t want to know,” Asterius says fervently, placing his hands over his ears and striding out. “I’m going to wait outside—please don’t tell me anymore.”
“Coward,” Ariadne scoffs at his retreating back.
“Not helping,” Patroclus sighs, pointing at Ariadne before calling out to Asterius. “Keep that in mind though! We know plenty of other people not related to your sister or Dionysus!”
“And none of them have ever made out with their reflection in the mirror,” Achilles adds.
Asterius stops and despite himself, he turns around out of sheer morbid curiosity. “…what?”
“Your boy Theseus once made out with his own reflection,” Achilles nods wisely.
“You blackguard, I was super drunk, and we agreed never to speak of that again!” Theseus yells, striding into the kitchen.
“I’m not sure being super drunk makes it any better,” Patroclus comments.
“It’s pretty weird,” Zagreus, a dark-haired recent pledge says, sticking his head into the kitchen.
Theseus grabs one of the protein powder tubs on the kitchen counter and throws it at Zagreus. “No one asked you, you fiendish little pledge!”
Achilles catches the tub in mid-air and glares at Theseus. “Hey! No bullying pledges under my charge!”
“Then no slandering me to Asterius!” Theseus retorts.
“It’s not slander if it’s true though,” Ariadne points out, still eating grapes and idly twirling a strand of her curly brown hair around her finger.
“It was Dionysus’ fault anyway!” Theseus declares before turning to Asterius and looking at him imploringly, “You believe me, right Asterius?”
(On one hand, he can’t say that making out with his own reflection sounds out of character for Theseus.
On the other, he probably was pretty drunk to get caught at it.)
“Yes, king,” he affirms.
“Seriously?” Ariadne asks, giving him an unimpressed look.
Theseus beams at him. “Good! Who cares what these peons think anyway! Let’s go work out, Asterius!”
“Yes,” he nods again and follows Theseus out of the frat house.
“Awful, heinous villains!” Theseus rants as they walk towards the gym. “What other slander and lies did they tell you, Asterius?”
Asterius pauses. “Uh—nothing to concern you with, king.”
“Come Asterius, do you think their envious lies coming out of your mouth would bother me?” Theseus asks, raising an eyebrow. “And I am sure Ariadne had a lot of things to say.”
(On the one hand, Theseus is asking him.
On the other—Asterius really doesn’t want to repeat Ariadne’s words and have to picture the two of them in bed.
Although Theseus would probably look something like how he does when Asterius has got him grappled and pinned to the ground, cheeks flushed, hair askew, panting and gasping—
And he really needs to cut off this train of thought before it can go somewhere more inappropriate than it already has.
He shouldn’t dishonor his best friend with lustful thoughts like that.)
“I would not repeat their words to you, king,” Asterius says finally, hefting his gym bag up. “I do not want to strain your relationship with anyone, and needless to say, I have taken none of it to heart.”
Theseus’ eyes soften a bit before he laughs and slaps Asterius on his shoulder. “Worthy of being my dear friend and rival! As for Achilles and them, you do not have to worry. Achilles just wishes he was as famous as I am!’
Theseus and Achilles had similar levels of fame on campus due to their athletic prowess and Theseus’ messy love affairs and Achilles’ legendary devotion to Patroclus, but Asterius nodded anyway. “I am glad things are fine between you and the fraternity.”
“Why, because Dionysus didn’t get thrown out?” Theseus sniffs then shakes his head, “Pshaw, his father and uncle are far too well-connected anyway, and besides, we just avoid each other now, and I am allowed to raid his liquor supplies at any time, and it’s fine.”
(It doesn’t exactly sound fine to Asterius, but then again, he supposes that Theseus still hasn’t gotten over Ariadne yet.
He doesn’t think his half-sister seems apt to change her mind, but then again, Theseus really does seem to have turned over a new leaf, so—
So that thought shouldn’t bother him at all, and he should simply be happy for his friend.)
He pushes his troubled thoughts to the side and manages to have a productive workout session with Theseus, even managing to surpass his best bench-press weight, which Theseus announces to the entire gym with evident delight.
They only return later when he gets back to his dorm room and sees a message from Ariadne on his phone.
Ariadne: seriously though u could do so much better
Ariadne: hes hot but thats pretty much all he is
Ariadne: hes like a pretty loudspeaker
Asterius snorts and texts her back.
Asterius: please dont insult my friend
Asterius: also we are not like that, so you can set your mind at ease
Ariadne’s reply rapidly follows.
Ariadne: really? r u sure?
Ariadne: because from my pov hes doing a lot of the same things to u he did with me and phaedra
Ariadne: all the thirst traps, and wanting u to go to his workout with him, and spending money on u like water
Ariadne: hes really nice to u thats true but i hope that lasts
(That’s—
Well, it all sounds pretty damning, but then again, if Theseus wasn’t over Ariadne, and he wanted to get her to notice—
It did seem like it had worked, even if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
Still—if that was what Theseus really wanted—
Should he just play along?
He doesn’t—that seems like a dangerous path—it’s too close to stupid, fanciful things that he actually wants but hasn’t let himself really consider—
And he still can’t because whatever he does will be temporary, and it will hurt less maybe if he just flat out tells himself that now.)
Asterius slowly replies with “it’s fine” before his phone vibrates again, and he sees that it’s a message from Theseus.
King: Asterius!
King: What Halloween plans have u made!
Asterius blinks then slowly types out.
Asterius: maybe watching some scary movies
Asterius: why?
King: No parties???? Unacceptable, Asterius.
King: You are coming to Alpha Epsilon Alpha’s costume party with me, that’s an order!
King: We shall have matching costumes, I will take care of everything, never you fear!
(…was this another ploy of Theseus’ to get Ariadne’s attention?
He—he can’t say that he likes it but—
For Theseus, he is willing to go along with it.
He can just—follow Theseus’ direction and—
It’ll be fine.
He’s always known he doesn’t have a chance.)
He types and deletes his response to Theseus a few times before finally settling on:
Asterius: alright, but don’t buy anything too expensive.
Asterius: I will pay you back.
Theseus protests and sends back a whole string of disappointed face emojis, but Asterius holds firm in his decision (it should also hopefully limit exactly how over-the-top Theseus could go with the costumes), so in the end, Theseus sulkily agrees.
King: fine then
King: i shall constrain myself and still bring over something magnificent worthy of the both of us!
Asterius isn’t really sure what that means, but he sends over a thumbs-up emoji anyway and decides to not worry about it.
(He’ll play his part and—
Well, he can’t exactly say he hopes that it’ll convince Ariadne of anything, but—
It’s the least he can do for Theseus, right?)
--
“…Is this a toga?” Asterius asks slowly, picking up the turquoise and white drapes of cloth that Theseus has handed him.
“A chiton; we are a Greek organization, not a Roman organization!” Theseus corrects, already having put his on his, leaving his left shoulder bare and the tanned skin of his chest exposed. “ We are not some uncultured frat that doesn’t even understand the roots and history of our organization, like some fraternities I could name….”
“How much did this cost?” Asterius asks, eyeing the very shiny gold-colored belt that was on top of the chiton.
“Oh, something like ten or twenty dollars, never you mind,” Theseus says breezily. “Put it on!”
“…really?”Asterius asks doubtfully, shaking out the cloth that falls forward with a smooth ripple. “This fabric feels…very nice…”
“Indeed, can you believe there were some perfectly good chitons tossed at the wayside in some thrift store? Some people really will throw away anything—do you need help putting it on?” Theseus asks, a thread of eagerness in his tone.
“You just happened to find something of my size at a thrift store?” Asterius persists, taking off his shirt and holding the chiton up to himself.
(He usually finds it hard to find clothes his size anywhere—it’s why he doesn’t really like shopping, beyond the fact that he doesn’t quite have the money for it.
If he’s looking at all these folds of fabric right, it will definitely fit, but it seems a bit short…)
“Indeed, such a lucky find. Pants off as well, otherwise it won’t look right,” Theseus instructs, already drawing closer to gently tuck the folds of the fabric around Asterius, pinning the turquoise cloth across his left shoulder. “There now—and add the belt and— wow. ”
Asterius tugs at the bottom of the chiton, feeling a bit exposed with the cool air flowing across his thighs and bared hairy chest, and trying not to squirm at Theseus’—it could only be called heated —gaze upon him.
“Um—won’t it be cold?” he asks.
Theseus blinks, and his dazed expression returns to normal as he readjusts the laurel leaves in his hair. “The frat house will be warm, never fear, my friend! And there are leggings to put on as well. The costume does indeed suit you very well—nearly beyond my sizable imagination—but it is lacking the final touch!”
Theseus holds up some garlands of laurel leaves much like his own, and Asterius stares at them and then looks at Theseus’ hair. “….I’m not entirely sure how to secure those on my head—”
“Never fear Asterius, I can help you there! Let me braid them into your hair,” Theseus says, his voice a bit breathless as he reaches forward towards his hair.
(Whatever mess Theseus may make of Asterius’ hair, he isn’t quite strong enough to resist the idea of having Theseus’ hands on him as he attempts to take care of him.
It’s pretty pathetic but—
Well, Theseus would probably be happier with Asterius’ hair arranged to his liking, right?
So it’s not like both of them aren’t getting something out of it.)
“Alright,” he agrees, and Theseus beams and then immediately pushes Asterius into a chair as he gets out a comb and goes behind him.
Asterius realizes this was a terrible idea as soon as Theseus begins to gently work the comb through his thick hair, deftly and carefully braiding in the laurel leaves, and keeping up a stream of complimentary murmurs the entire time about how nice Asterius’ hair is and questions about what shampoo he uses.
“Just—whatever is cheapest—” Asterius manages to say, choking back a gasp as Theseus’ fingers trail against the back of his neck.
Theseus clicks his tongue. “And it’s this thick and silky! My, Asterius, I will admit to a bit of envy—but imagine how glorious your hair will look on premium hair products in that case! I will buy you a whole case.”
“That’s really unnecessary, king,” Asterius says weakly, trying not to shiver as Theseus tugs a bit on his hair as he braids in the laurel leaves.
“It’s completely necessary! You deserve all the best things, Asterius,” Theseus says seriously, stepping back and then nodding to himself while snapping a picture and saying, “Come see!”
Asterius turns to look at the mirror, touching the laurel leaves so beautifully braided in his hair as Theseus hums happily and types something into his phone.
(…is this really all for show?
Are these all things Theseus has done for Ariadne and Phaedra before?)
“Why?” the question slips out of Asterius’ mouth before he can stop it.
Theseus looks up, tilting his head, “Why what? The laurel leaves? Well we have to match, and your hair is so long, so it seems a shame not to take advantage of that and just braid them in—”
“No, why do I deserve all the best things? Because I’m your rival? Because I call you king?”
(Because I’m Ariadne’s half-brother?)
“Because you are someone with abilities that can rival my own, you are my friend, and we share a bond forged from the strongest bronze!” Theseus declares, jutting his chin out. “Nay, adamant!”
Asterius’ brow furrows, “But—”
“But nothing! You deserve all the best, and if we do not hurry, we will miss the best time to make a dramatic entrance into the party,” Theseus pushes him forward towards the door, “Onward!”
If he really decided to stand his ground, Theseus could probably only push him forward by exerting all his strength and then maybe trying to drag him, but he’s pretty sure Theseus really would try. And if he doesn’t get to do his dramatic entrance, he’ll probably sulk, so he lets Theseus push him forward.
(Theseus’ plan probably won’t work without a dramatic entrance.
He can only hope that people won’t laugh at his ridiculous costume.
He’s not sure how Theseus makes it look so good—he looks practically godlike with all those muscles exposed—and somehow he’s glowing —is that oil?)
“The Champions of Elysium have arrived!” Theseus announces loudly as they enter the frat house.
Patroclus, wrapped in a dark green cloak, a more armored looking chiton, wrist bracers, and holding a spear, looks unimpressed, but he does nod at Asterius. “You look obnoxious, but you did do a good job with Asterius.”
“Ha! You may think that is an insult, but since my companion and I match, obviously it is a compliment to me as well!” Theseus preens.
“You took the matching costume thing pretty far,” Achilles comments, wearing a light green cloak, a chiton much like Patroclus’, wrist bracers, and holding a spear as well.
“You copied us!” Theseus complains, pointing at Achilles.
“Uh no, me and Pat were always going to do matching costumes, and I think we look much less obnoxious than you,” Achilles says with narrowed eyes, settling his spear against his shoulder.
“You definitely do!” Zagreus pipes up while passing by, dressed in a red chiton and what looks like a three-headed dog as a pauldron on his shoulder.
“Begone, you pledge!” Theseus yells at Zagreus.
Zagreus rolls his eyes. “Not a pledge anymore. Anyway, great costume Asterius! Looks good on you!”
“Thank you,” Asterius inclines his head, “The king picked it out.”
“I suppose we should be thankful that he didn’t go for that gold-plated monstrosity of an armor he was originally considering for you,” Patroclus notes, patting Achilles on the shoulder as the blonde man relaxes.
“Asterius would have looked magnificent in that armor, but I decided to abide by his more modest wishes, and in the meantime, you are all blessed with our glory,” Theseus sniffs.
“….sure, anyway, Asterius, you look like you have a pretty high alcohol tolerance, right?” Zagreus says with a grin. “Want to help me try to win some money off of Odysseus in beer pong?”
“Asterius will not aid you in any games!” Theseus loudly declares, clutching at Asterius’ arm and glaring at Zagreus.
“Uh, you could ask him his opinion first?” Zagreus points out.
“….I am not very good at games that require finesse, my apologies,” Asterius says simply, nodding at Zagreus as Theseus’ lips curl.
“It shouldn’t be that bad! Odysseus says it’s a casual game!” Zagreus argues.
Achilles laughs, shaking his head, “Oh no—kid, Odysseus runs this scam every year. He’ll say it’s all in good fun, but Penelope will be playing for sure, and the only person I’ve ever seen beat Penelope at beer pong is Odysseus. And believe me—we’ve all tried.”
“Tried and failed with terrible headaches, and the less said about the bathrooms that day the better,” Hector murmurs, walking over in full armor and a shining bronze helmet, “That woman has a sharpshooter’s accuracy and a liver made of steel.”
“Are we talking about my gorgeously smart girlfriend?” Odysseus asks, wandering over and beaming at them, slinging an arm around Zagreus’ shoulders. “I carved a beer pong table just for her at her place for her birthday.”
“You can take the fiendish pledge off to get decimated by your queen, I will be taking Asterius to more enjoyable ventures,” Theseus sniffs, pulling Asterius forward.
“Do not attempt to break into Dionysus’ room again, or else I will banish you for a week,” Hector calls out.
“As if I would!” Theseus retorts back, “And that isn’t much of a threat anyway since Asterius would allow me to live with him and sleep on the floor of his dorm—wouldn’t you, Asterius?”
“I would,” Asterius inclines his head. “Except you would take the bed—I cannot let a guest sleep on the floor.”
“And I could not let my friend be displaced from his own rightful bed to the floor!” Theseus declares before sidling closer, “We would therefore have to share.”
“…I don’t think we would fit together,” Asterius points out, imagining his twin sized dorm bed that he barely managed to fit in as is.
“I think we could make it work,” Theseus says, his voice suddenly weirdly breathy as he looks up at him.
(Theseus would probably have to burrow his way thoroughly into Asterius’ chest, their legs intertwined, and their bodies completely stuck together—
No, no, no, he can’t imagine that, it’s never going to happen, and he needs to focus.)
Asterius coughs and looks away, “Then—if you do not want us to play beer pong, then what do you want us to do at this party, king?”
“Many things, but for now—behold!” Theseus says, dragging him forward through the crowd towards a door where a ton of masks are hanging off of it. “The gateway to the labyrinth!”
“The labyrinth?” Asterius asks as Theseus swings open the door to reveal a darkened space.
(He doesn’t like the look of that.
But—some kind of maze created within a frat house couldn’t be that bad, right?
And Theseus looked so enthusiastic about it…)
“Indeed! Diomedes decided to put his lessons from Professor Daedalus to use, and he thought a scary maze would be perfect for Halloween celebrations,” Theseus explains, picking out an extremely ugly gold half-mask and setting it on his face. “Pick a mask, Asterius!”
“…are you sure about yours?” Asterius asks hesitantly, picking up the bull-horned mask that is closest to him.
“Of course! It is gold and suits me well, doesn’t it?” Theseus preens.
“…Alright, king,” Asterius replies, placing his own unwieldy mask over his face.
(As long as Theseus likes it, he guesses.)
“Good! And you look quite nice in yours as well—truly a bull of a man!” Theseus laughs at his own joke and grabs Asterius’ hand to tug him inside. “Now come! Let us see if we cannot set a record for fastest traversal of this maze!”
At first it’s fine—it’s dark, but the guys and girls leaping out of the corners dressed in a variety of monstrous costumes are a nice distraction (Theseus laughs at every single one, and Asterius feels heartened), but then there’s a stretch where it’s just dark—dark to the point where they’re feeling their way forward with their hands against the wall—and Asterius tries to breathe although it feels as though the walls are closing in—
(He could never get out, no matter how much he threw himself against the door or pounded against it.
Minos’ wine cellar had been built sturdily, and the door to it was no exception.
There was no light anywhere, and the longer he stayed down there, the more it seemed like the narrow shelves and walls were closing in on him, and he couldn’t get out couldn’t get out couldn’t get out couldn’t get outcouldn’t get outcouldn’t get outcouldn’t get out— )
“Asterius? Asterius? Asterius! Asterius!” a hand seems to be shaking his shoulder, but he can’t quite figure out what is happening. “Shit—hey, help! Some help here, please!”
“Hahaha, there is no help here, just darkness as you well know—what the fuck, what did you do to him?” Ariadne’s voice seems to float through as a creepy looking witch sticks her head out of the wall.
“I didn’t do anything—he just—suddenly slumped and—Asterius, hey, my friend—are you still with me?” Theseus’ worried voice filters through.
(Oh.
Right, Theseus is here—this is the frat’s maze, not the wine cellar.
He should try to stand up, obviously he’s worrying his friend.)
He attempts to stand, but his legs are stupidly weak and useless, and his breathing is still—he can’t control it—and so he just stumbles, Theseus grabbing him around the waist and supporting him up.
(It’s warm.
It’s warm, and—Theseus is so close and obviously there, his bare skin brushing against his, so—
So he’s not alone here.)
“Oh god—you brought Asterius here in with you? Are you stupid? Don’t answer that question, I know you are—why did you bring him here ?”
“We can argue later Ariadne, right now, get us out of here ,” Theseus snaps, his voice suddenly devoid of all its usual dramatics and pomposity.
Ariadne huffs, then takes out her phone and turns on the flashlight (oh thank god, there’s some actual bright light now), and starts walking forward. “Well, good to see you have some sense of priorities. Hey Asterius—it’s going to be alright, okay? We’ll get you out soon.”
“Yes Asterius, all will be well—do you wish to go outside after this? Or somewhere else?” Theseus asks anxiously, steadily supporting them and occasionally running a comforting hand down his back as they stumble together behind Ariadne who shoos away the occasional person who leaps out at her.
(Outside is dark right now.)
“Not—not outside,” he manages to croak out.
“You should probably take him somewhere quieter than right in the middle of the frat party though—the noise might overwhelm him,” Ariadne says, looking back at them. “I can take him to Dionysus’ room—”
“Asterius, surely you would prefer my room?” Theseus asks urgently.
By now, they’ve reached the end of a meandering hallway, and Ariadne swings open a door where waves of noise start blasting in, and Asterius can feel a headache building, and his breathing starts to go out of his control again. “I—yours.”
“Alright,” Theseus says, his face worried again as he supports Asterius out and shoves his way through the party throngs. “Breathe—breathe Asterius, do you want water? Or something stronger? I can go plunder Dionysus’ stores right now for something, and Ariadne can take you to my room—”
“No, just—stay. Stay here. With me,” Asterius manages to mumble out between his irregular breaths and the way his eyes seem to be tearing up.
(God, he’s pathetic.
Minos was right—)
“I’m right here Asterius, never fear—and we’re here,” Theseus says, opening the door to a room that is plastered with grinning photos of Theseus and many, many wrestling trophies. “Here’s some water—Ariadne, can you go get some ambrosia?”
“So it looks like you can be considerate sometimes after all,” Ariadne says softly before sweeping out of the room, and the door closes behind her, letting the roar of the party fade away to more of a persistent murmur.
Asterius takes the bottle of water with trembling hands and tries to screw it open, but his hands are shaking so bad, and—
(And this is so pathetic and weak and dumb and Theseus is going to realize this and just leave—)
“Hey, hey, hey, here, let me,” Theseus says gently, taking the bottle from his hands and screwing it for him before hanging it back. “Unworthy of me not to think of that—I’m sorry, Asterius.”
Asterius shakes his head, gulping down some water, and then wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I—I should have been able to do it myself, king.”
“No—you’re obviously—Asterius, I have to apologize for taking you there, I didn’t realize—are you claustrophobic?” Theseus asks, peering up at him.
Asterius opens his mouth then closes it, trying to gather his thoughts together.
(It would be easier to just say that he’s claustrophobic.
But it’s not really the entire story—he’s fine with enclosed spaces as long as they’re well-lit.
As long as they’re not like that wine cellar…
But does Theseus really want to hear all that?)
“It’s okay if you don’t wish to tell me right now! Or at all!” Theseus quickly interjects, drawing closer. “I just want to—I just want to support you, my friend. The way you have supported me this entire time.”
(Oh that’s—
He can feel his heart melt a bit.
If he wasn’t already hopelessly in love with him, he’d probably fall for Theseus right now.)
There’s a knock on the door, and Theseus glances at it before patting Asterius on the knee and saying quickly, “I’ll just get that, be right back.”
As Theseus opens the door, taking a glass bottle of honey-colored liquid from Ariadne while exchanging some hushed words with her, Asterius glances around the room. The little of the walls he can see that isn’t plastered with photos of Theseus are a nice pale, seafoam green color, and hanging right smack dab above Theseus’ desk cluttered with textbooks and weights is an enlarged photo of him and Asterius, beaming at the camera and holding up the championship trophy they had won that year.
(This is Theseus, the only person who had never been intimidated by him, who loved to train with him, and was his best friend and rival.
Surely it was safe to tell him a little bit of what had happened?)
Theseus grabs some glasses from a shelf, uncorks the bottle, and pours a bit into each glass, pushing one into Asterius’ hands, “Here—ambrosia, the good stuff. Ariadne didn’t stint, that’s good. Take a sip?”
Asterius obediently does, and the liquid is both sweet and bitter, a warm heat traveling down his throat and settling in his chest. He sets the glass on the set of drawers by Theseus’ bed and takes a deep breath before saying, “…I am sorry, king.”
“Sorry? Whatever are you sorry for?” Theseus asks, his brow furrowed. “I should be the one groveling for your forgiveness—if I had just realized that you were claustrophobic—”
“I’m not exactly claustrophobic,” Asterius interrupts, gripping his knees and staring at the floor. “It’s—when I was younger—I got into a lot of fights at school. I was—angry, and I didn’t really know my own strength so—other kids ended up injured. My stepfather would lock me in the wine cellar as punishment—it was always so dark and—and—”
(Even remembering the cold dark makes it feel as though his throat is pinching shut, and it’s too much—)
“Breathe Asterius, I am here with you,” Theseus says, his hands coming out to tightly grasp Asterius’ hands. “That is—that is abominable! Where was your mother in all this!”
“She—she thought it would help calm me down—and it was already good that Minos agreed to raise me when I was the product of her affair—”
“He should never have blamed you for that!” Theseus says, his hands tightening in Asterius’. “That—how was that your fault?”
“Still—I was pretty—angry I guess when I was younger—I didn’t really learn to manage it until I got into wrestling—”
“They still shouldn’t have locked you in a godforsaken, fucking cellar!” Theseus yells, his eyes blazing. “Your stepfather should be reported—”
“Maybe but—but I don’t want to go through all that trouble—and I pretty much don’t interact with him anymore anyway, so—can we talk about something else?” Asterius pleads, looking up at Theseus.
Theseus deflates a bit, then nods, his jaw clenched tight. “…of course. I am sorry to bring up old wounds, my friend.”
“It’s alright,” Asterius replies, taking the glass of ambrosia and sipping a little more of it.
(It had been—kind of nice actually that Theseus had reacted so strongly against Minos.
No one ever stood up to his stepfather.)
“Still—I have been very remiss with you, Asterius,” Theseus insists. “I should have better described the labyrinth to you before bringing you there—”
“You had no way of knowing,” Asterius interrupts softly, setting the glass back down with a muted clink. “I thought it couldn’t possibly be that impressive, but I should not have underestimated the work of your frat.”
“Perhaps, but—but next time Asterius, if you do not wish to do something, you will let me know, alright?” Theseus says, leaning in, his blue eyes and mouth all still and serious. “I do not wish to force you to do anything you are not comfortable with.”
(See this is what Patroclus, Achilles, Ariadne, and the rest of them don’t get—Theseus is so sweet at the core of him.
He’s a bit thoughtless and selfish sometimes for sure, but—but he cares and knows when he’s messed up.
He supposes they just need to convince Ariadne of that again.)
Asterius nods, not quite able to keep a small smile from quirking up his mouth even as there’s an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. “I will let you know, king.”
“Alright, that’s good then,” Theseus nods imperiously before patting Asterius’ knee and then standing up to walk towards the giant plasma TV taking up an entire wall of the room. “Now then—there are probably a great many horror movie marathons happening right now, or I do own many films, or of course, there are many recordings of all our matches—”
“Shouldn’t we go out there again?” Asterius asks, puzzled and nodding towards the door to Theseus’ room.
Theseus turns around, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “…if you wish to, of course, Asterius, but your hands are still trembling. Would you not be more comfortable staying here for now?”
(He would be—he could think of nothing better right now than watching scary movies with Theseus while curled up in his bed and sipping ambrosia, but—
That’s not what he is here for.)
“We should go,” Asterius insists, standing up. “You still have not yet won over Ariadne yet.”
Theseus blinks then holds up a hand. “Wait—what? What does Ariadne have to do with any of this?”
Asterius frowns. “You wished to use me to make Ariadne jealous, correct? While that may work with us sitting here and watching movies together, it is still probably best to go outside to the party to let her see you—”
“Asterius, you think that I am using you because I’m not over Ariadne?” Theseus says, his face stricken and his voice appalled. “I do not wish any longer to be with her—she can have her vineyard and liquor store owning boyfriend all she likes, I do not care, I have found someone I like much better.”
The bottom of Asterius’ stomach drops, and he lowers his head.
(Why does he feel bad?
It doesn’t really change his situation—it just changes who they need to impress.)
“Still, king,” he says softly. “You could probably better impress them out there than in here—”
“Asterius, the only person I want to impress is right here in this room with me,” Theseus says simply, tilting Asterius’ chin up so that their eyes can meet.
(What?
But—but the only person here is—himself—
Oh.
Oh. )
Theseus bites his lip and continues in a rush in the ensuing ringing silence, “I—I know with my history with your half-sister—both your half-sisters—and the rest of my exploits, that you may have some…qualms about me, but—but I swear Asterius—to me you are—you are not just some object of desire that I want to impress, you are my beloved friend, my brother in arms, and my most esteemed rival—and I love you dearly. I would of course like it if our relationship could deepen to a more intimate level, but if you do not wish it, simply say the word, and I will speak no more of this—”
“I would like that too,” Asterius blurts out, feeling his face grow so warm, he’s surprised it isn’t on fire. “I would like—like to be more intimate with you.”
Theseus stares at him for a moment, before a smile nearly splits his face, and he grabs Asterius’ hands. “You would?”
“I would.” Asterius nods. “I—I am very fond of you, Theseus. I really—really like you too.”
“Even when you thought I wasn’t over Ariadne?” Theseus asks, tracing his hand down the side of Asterius’ face.
Asterius leans into his touch. “Even then,” he confesses quietly.
Theseus laughs joyfully and throws his arms around Asterius’ neck. “Well, my silly bull—you were wrong, and I have been completely preoccupied with trying to make you fall in love with me and then date me as of late.”
“So all those pictures…?” Asterius asks, carefully placing his hands on Theseus’ hips (wow he is really letting him).
Theseus gives Asterius a smug look as he presses even closer, “And also preoccupied with getting you into my bed.”
“Which you have done,” Asterius points out, glancing back at the bed that they had been sitting on.
Theseus rolls his eyes then places his hand at the back of Asterius’ neck and pulls down, “I was thinking something a little more…hands-on,” he purrs, his lips inches away from Asterius’ own.
Asterius swallows and asks, “….show me?”
Theseus shoots up to his tiptoes, Theseus’ lips pressing against his own, and it’s—it’s hot , heady , and pleasurable, and for all the trouble Theseus’ wild promiscuity across campus had caused, he obviously knows how to move and use his tongue.
Asterius frantically kisses back as best he can, while trying to keep his grip on Theseus’ hips gentle, but then Theseus wraps his bare legs around Asterius’ waist, and Asterius can’t help but tighten his grip, and then Theseus lets out a low groan—
Asterius quickly pulls away, panting and looking down at Theseus, “Are you alright?” he asks worriedly.
“I am fine, dear one. More than fine…oh, are you worried about hurting me?” Theseus asks, quirking up an eyebrow and licking his lips. “Dear Asterius—I like it rough. Feel free to throw me around.”
Asterius does not throw Theseus around because mostly he just wants him closer and is still worried that he might overstep, but Theseus is extremely and loudly enthusiastic as he pushes him towards the bed, and Theseus sprawls out in the very vision of lust.
“Come here and let me see if you’re as big as I imagined,” Theseus cajoles, nipping and sucking all the way down from Asterius’ neck down to his exposed pec.
“You— ah —you’ve seen me in the changing room,” Asterius points out, gasping.
“Mm yes—but not, shall we say—fully erect with desire?” Theseus says mischievously, starting to slowly undo Asterius’ belt.
“Oh—uh— ah —but— Ah! Sorry, sorry, I’ll try to keep quiet—”
“Let your pleasure be known as you please, Asterius. I certainly shall,” Theseus says in a husky voice as he starts to take off his own chiton.
--
“Here you go Asterius, glad you and Theseus worked things out.” Hector beams at him as he hands him a towering plate of freshly made blueberry pancakes.
“Well, I’m not,” Zagreus complains, kicking his heels as he waits for his plate. “You guys were so loud —I had to grab my noise-cancelling headphones! And that didn’t cover up the walls shaking!”
“Silence, you tiny fiend, you just wish you could have someone as grand as Asterius,” Theseus says, smugly intertwining Asterius’ fingers with his own.
Zagreus rolls his eyes. “Still say you could do better, Asterius.”
“I could not,” Asterius says seriously, passing his plate over to Theseus.
Ariadne makes a gagging motion then sighs, pushing her hair back and pulling out her phone. “Well, at least Phaedra will fall over laughing when she hears this. And—you’re still on thin ice, Theseus, but I guess you’re okay for Asterius. Although if that ever changes, I’m sweeping him away and making him meet new people, just so you know.”
“I will not fight with you right now because I am simply too happy,” Theseus declares, eating some pancakes before feeding some to Asterius.
“And I would imagine too sore,” Patroclus says languidly.
“Ha! You wish you could be pleasured so well—”
Asterius puts his hand over Theseus’ mouth as Patroclus quickly grabs Achilles who is shooting up with an angry expression. “I would rather those matters remain between ourselves, king.”
Theseus turns and beams at him, “Of course, my bull!”
“If you really want matters to remain private, you might want to, like, rent a place in the middle of the wilderness or something— oh my god! ” Zagreus suddenly shrieks, staring at his phone.
Orpheus comes running down the stairs, his hair a mess. “What happened? Who got murdered? Zagereus?”
“No—my childhood friend is transferring here!” Zagreus explains, his smile nearly blinding.
“Wow, that’s great kid!” Achilles says, thumping him on his back. “The one you have a crush on, right?”
Zagreus ducks his head, some color on his pale cheeks. “Well…yes.”
“I am truly sorry you have to see this pathetic display, Asterius,” Theseus says, shaking his head as Zagreus freaks out over his friend coming and the rest of the frat comes into the kitchen in search of pancakes. “It is quite a mess.”
“I don’t mind. I like being here with you,” Asterius says honestly, squeezing Theseus’ hand.
Theseus beams at him, then places his head against Asterius’ shoulder and sighs happily. “I hope I can make you feel as happy and cared for as you do me,” he murmurs.
“You already do,” Asterius murmurs back.
“No making out in the kitchen,” Phoenix says loudly, pointing at the two of them. “No sex either—it’s in the frat rulebook.”
“ I wasn’t the one who made that rule necessary,” Theseus sniffs, digging into his pancakes and pointedly looking at Achilles and Patroclus.
Achilles sneers and puts an arm around Patroclus’ shoulders. “Well maybe if you had a partner you couldn’t keep your hands off of—”
“Theseus, do not start feeling up Asterius in front of all of us, and Achilles, don’t escalate. Weekend pancakes are a peaceful time, and anyone who breaks the peace will not get any more pancakes,” Hector says, his voice ringing with command.
Everyone settles into their pancakes after that, and Theseus settles for squeezing Asterius’ hand and whispering into his ear as his foot runs up his leg, “Don’t listen to Achilles, I definitely can’t keep my hands off of you.”
“I share the same sentiment, Theseus, but not in public,” Asterius replies gently, nudging Theseus’ foot down.
Theseus pouts but then beams again as Asterius lifts up a forkful of syrup-soaked pancake towards his mouth.
(He can’t quite believe this isn’t a dream, but—
He could never have imagined a happiness as warm and giddy as this.)