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The sacred grounds of Valhalla were not, usually, a place of celebration. Surely, they gave home to hundreds, even thousands of gods that reigned all over the world, but just as that, there was almost nothing that could put them all together in one place with the objective of simply “enjoying themselves”. The lack of common grounds in terms of festivities would make it impossible, after all.
So there should be absolutely no reason for the flashy decorations across the halls. For the candlelit rooms, and the slow, dancey music playing in every single corner of the realm. However, Zeus’ insistence was even more of a reason for a huge, senseless party. After all, he personally sent out invitations to the most… interesting —or potentially trouble-making— deities out there, so they could join him in the luxurious ballroom constructed under Hermes’ lead, after he got fed up with his master’s whims and decided to simply give in.
And despite it being Zeus’ idea, the divine messenger was entirely to thank for the entire attire of the Gods’ realm, after being seen pulling several strings for a total of two long, sleepless days, rushed by his boss and his annoying requests. And judging by the way all minor gods did not even hesitate to obey Hermes’ orders, one could assume the Olympian God truly was one step away from stabbing someone in the jugular. And that wouldn’t be far from the truth.
But, when looking at the finished product, he couldn’t have felt more proud of all the time he spent living up to his father’s expectations for the party. Everything, from the hand sewn silk tablecloth and gold cutlery, to the delightful dishes, was of the best quality, beyond what anyone could imagine. The place was perfumed with a harmonious mix of the sweet aroma of warm food, and the melting wax that dripped slowly from the chandeliers that hung above their heads, painting the entire room in soft shades of yellow. Upon seeing the already prepared room, while holding the guest list under one of his arms, he softly clapped his hands, congratulating himself for his hard work.
He couldn’t wait for his work to be torn apart in seconds by everyone else’s complete buffoonery and childish behaviour. More than gods, they acted like mortal children. The annoying ones.
And in fact, it didn’t take long for his efforts to go to waste. He watched it happen in real time, as well, as he welcomed each and every one of the gods passing by with the biggest fake grin one could ever see. Name after name was crossed from the list, making his eyes go from the paper, to the god in question, watching them walk to the absolutely hellish ballroom, going straight to either their heaven, or the purest form of desperation and demise they’d ever see.
When the Hindu God of Destruction was the one that joyously crossed through the door, one pair of arms resting behind his head, the other one crossed over his chest, was the moment Hermes knew that this god-forsaken celebration was meant to be his downfall, rather than something he’d get to enjoy as the likes of Zeus or Loki, who already seemed to be having the best time of their long lives and by all means ignoring every possible rule regarding proper etiquette one could’ve ever taught them.
And though he was not one to moon over others, whether it be gods or mortals, he couldn’t help but feel vulnerable when a very heavy sigh left his lips as he allowed Shiva inside of the ballroom, receiving a quite strong pat on the shoulder and a smile as his thanks. Arguably better than the greetings he received from the other deities, but that’s beyond the point.
The point in question is that he shouldn’t be allowing himself such… Liberties, not when he’s supposed to be a professional, when his job is to be taking care of the celebration, of hosting it, since Zeus had freed himself of any responsibility and left everything in his care. Not that he minded, he likes the feeling of having control, but…
Seeing Buddha and Poseidon walk inside, what exactly was the control he’d be having? The freedom to pick whoever’s blood he’d have the delight of mopping up first when someone inevitably annoyed the God of the seas, or one of the fortune gods decided to get on Buddha’s nerves once again?
He was starting to have regrets over this celebration. Many of them, in fact.
He tossed his notebook to the side, finally done with every single God listed down, and walked his way to a large table, right at the opposite side of the room. It was particularly well decorated, made for the Greek gods specifically. Zeus was sitting in the middle of it, engaging in a conversation with Ares, who seemed very proud of himself for talking in such friendly terms with his father. Hermes sighed, a tired smile drawn on his face, as he moved his way to his placement on the table, right between Zeus’ right and Poseidon, who barely raised his eyes to gaze at the divine messenger before getting back to staring at absolutely nowhere.
He swiftly moved his chair to sit between the two brothers, hoping nothing would go wrong with his night. But sometimes hoping and manifesting something in your mind is not enough. It especially isn’t when you happen to be surrounded by deities that have been alive for thousands of years, and will exploit the slightest chance of cheap entertainment they get. It merely took some sips of wine, the greek gods filling their glasses on ambrosia, to drive them all crazy, to a major or minor degree. And everything Hermes could do was rock back and forth in his chair, giving short sips on his glass, while questioning the sanity of every single god that was around him.
The only reasonable person in that place, the Tyrant of the Oceans, had left the room the second Zeus started drinking wine straight out of the bottle, much to his dismay. And so, he was left alone to handle the mess by himself. He rolled his eyes and stayed in his seat, simply keeping guard, his feet messing with the winged sandals that adorned them, slipping in and out of them out of sheer boredom. He wouldn’t normally wear them, even less on a meeting of this regard, but if he had to be honest, he was sure he’d need to be fast at handling the shenanigans of a bunch of drunk deities. The music that came from behind was surprisingly calm, and he was sure he’d fall asleep if the circumstances continued like this, he was sure someone else could handle Zeus’ stupidity…
Until the loudness of an improperly used mic forced his eyes open, rubbing them as he tried to understand what was going on. He heard nothing but gibberish, probably because the older god was holding the microphone awfully close to his mouth, but the second the voice that sounded more like an orchestra of tone-deaf songbirds rather than a god stopped talking, he pointed at the band ensemble with a proud smile. And, almost as if they spoke the same newly discovered language as Zeus, they were quick to change the sounds, the tunes they were performing.
Hermes let his head fall right between his own hands, trying to hold himself in one piece. The sharp sound of the bandoneon that stood out from the rest of the instruments was almost like a death sentence.
The celebration had gone from drunk gods causing a hassle, to the, probably even worse outcome, “drunk gods miserably attempting to dance tango and continuously crashing against one another.”
The dance floor was quick to get crowded once again. Everyone was bumping into one another, making a rhythmless mess out of the gorgeous melody that plays behind them. And he sighed, because he couldn’t even enjoy the only good thing he ever found from mortals: their absolutely astonishing music, each note embroidered with the other almost perfectly as if it was the finest threads we were talking about, instead of such complex structures.
That, until he felt a hand lay swiftly in his shoulder. He raised his head, his eyes rolling slightly due to annoyance…
Until he realized the presence he took notice of was Shiva’s. His soft grip, which shook Herme’s body a bit to get him out of his stupor, felt warm against the messenger’s skin, whose sighing became one of relief, after finally coming upon one person he could actually sympathize with, even if it was only for a couple seconds. He gave him a rather cocky grin in response, bringing one of his hands to his, patting the back of his hand a couple times, which the hindu god took as a signal to move from his spot.
“What are you here for?” Hermes asked, straightening himself in his seat, his hands now laid in his lap. The change in his demeanor was easy to take notice of, and so, it earned him a chuckle or two from his companion.
“It was just weird to see you sitting here all alone, y’know, with the music and all that.”
Excuses.
Hermes could read bullshit in his eyes, those bright yellow orbs that sparkled as they skimmed their surroundings, but would always draw back to another position as soon as they caught his own staring. It was entertaining, to say the least.
“I am not quite keen on dancing, Lord Shiva.” and the Greek man spoke almost way too delicately, almost expert in using that tone on his voice. “I thought that was something you’d be aware of.”
His fake tone of utter disappointment somehow managed to get through the other God’s facade, who attempted at all costs to hide something Hermes was already starting to take notice of. A faint nervousness, totally uncommon to his usual destructiveness. He wanted to laugh at it, but he decided to refrain from being rude.
He did, however, speak; his red eyes glistening, reflecting the sparkles from the chandeliers as he did so, maybe in an attempt to put the other man under more pressure than he already was in, or it could perhaps be the fact that Shiva was being beautifully illuminated by all lights around him, a heavenly sight, worth of being painted, or even immortalized in a perfectly constructed stained glass creation.
“May I know what’s the reasoning for this question? Are you, perhaps, trying to ask me to dance with you?”
He cocked a brow at the comment, and, finally, Shiva seemed to be back at his usual prideful self, much to Hermes’ amusement. Or at least, he attempted so, though clearly his true intentions have come to light due to the messenger’s observant nature.
“You’ve been sitting here all night long, it’s quite the shame that you’re still stuck in here when you could be having some fun. Someone else can control Zeus’ mess, right!? Just how annoying can the grandpa get?”
“Well, he can get infuriating at times.” Hermes explained, letting his head rest atop his palm. “ Besides, you have not one, nor two, but three lovely wives, yet you’re asking me to dance with you. Are you perhaps trying to spark jealousy into them?”
Shiva took that last question a tad too personally, bringing one of his hands to his chest, appearing to be offended by those kinds of assumptions. The smaller god giggled, amused by his reactions. Shiva seemed to be a really volatile guy when you looked at him up close. And there he thought that, if he ever got asked out by him, he would’ve been completely put into submission by whatever the Hindu god had in mind. But, he assumed that once you got to his softer spots, you could play his strings however you desired. Maybe that’s what his wives enjoy so much about him? It’d be interesting if that was the reason, frankly.
“Come on, do I really look like I’d do that!?” Shiva sighed, finally, refraining from causing an uproar just by raising his tone just a bit more. Destruction was his finest skill, after all. “They are having fun elsewhere, if you’re so curious.”
“And what if I say no?”
The Hindu deity stayed silent for a couple seconds. They felt like entire minutes to Hermes, but, the clocked only ticked a couple times before he finally opened his mouth, with a certainly scary grin drawn on his face, one that Hermes wanted to wipe off with a kiss at that very moment, though, he held himself back on such carnal wishes.
“I will assume you want to stay here until the end of times and grow into a wrinkly old god like the grandpa over there.”
And Hermes, although quick to judge others, was just as fast to fall trap to those kinds of provocations, stepping out of his seat on a really harsh motion, very unlike him, but driven completely by the way he got offended by those couple of words. With no sounds leaving his lips, but with his brows furrowed, he laid a hand on Shiva’s chest, practically pushing him right to the center of the dancefloor. He got both of them through the crowds as he forced his companion to have to move his head a couple times to see if he wasn’t bumping against anyone and creating more inconveniences. It was strange to see the usually so put-together deity in that state, but, clear by the way his yellow eyes reflected Hermes’ expression, he found that newly discovered behaviour very interesting.
Once they finally stopped, both of them finally stared at each other right in the eye. The smaller one’s almost deadly stare contrasted to the curiosity that was sparkled all over Shiva’s gaze, completely entranced by a wish of seeing more of it. Which he surely was going to get, considering how fast the night was flowing, how the music surrounded them, and how Herme’s foot hit the ground on beat, the muffled rhythm making both gods feel at ease, considering their common enjoyment of those mixed sounds.
“Are you going to take your words back, Lord Shiva?” One of his eyebrows raised slightly as the question rolled out of his tongue. “If I comply with this single dance, will you swear on your life that you will never direct another insult like that in my direction, unless you want to face divine consequences for it?”
Shiva laughed, and Hermes didn’t know what was so funny about his warning.
“I will, I will. Though, I don’t know how this dance is performed, and you seem to be very knowledgeable about this kind of melody…”
And if the Hindu god was having his fun with him before, then the messenger might’ve made the strangest face ever seen in their realm, because it seemed as though the air was being stolen from his lungs, considering how loudly he was laughing after seeing the expression on his face. Though, he probably would’ve been right to do so, taking into account the feeling of his jaw nearly hitting the ground and his eyes open widely in surprise.
“You want me to take the lead!? Oh, Lord Shiva, I was unaware that you were that kind of man.”
He fixed his tie while speaking, attempting to clear his throat in distraction from the flush that was building on his cheeks, burning him from the inside. Shiva had to be aware of the implications of his words, of this provocative mortal dance…
Was he going to throw all his pride to let an inferior God’s hands run all over his body like that? It was strange, and it was weirder that he felt honored by the request.
“I assume your judgment isn’t always right, isn’t that so, Hermes?” Shiva chuckled, and now he felt like the tables had turned, as he became the easiest to pick on one out of the pair.
But, he tried to put himself together once again. He brought back the grin on his face, the one that brims on the almost ironic nature of his persona, and caught one of the other man’s hands within his, their fingers holding tightly, like a lock that should never get opened, no matter the reason there was behind doing so. His free hand roamed around his back, feeling the tight white fabric at the tip of his fingertips, before settling on his back, holding him way too delicately. He felt a hand lay on top of his shoulder, and he couldn’t resist the giggle that left him.
Such a fragile-looking servant taking power off the most important god of his religion was hilarious to even him, but Shiva seemed to be taking this seriously, so he once again cleared his own throat, immediately getting back to business.
He’s seen humans perform this art several times. He’s even had the honor of dancing to it himself; those times he acted like a young rebellious deity and ran away when he wasn’t looking, in search of thrills. It had gotten popular quite a while ago, actually.
One, two, three, four.
He guided Shiva through the patterned steps. Starting out slow, any step Hermes gave, his partner would follow, walking right back, following the orders given to him. They weren’t looking at each other’s feet at all, even during the first steps they were giving, those completely experimental ones. Hermes would walk forward, and Shiva would walk back as a result. They read that in each other’s eyes, where they seemed to be the most invested. They simply refused to stare away from each other, as the divine messenger moved him through the dancefloor in slow, easy steps.
One, two, three, four…
Shiva caught on how the moves worked after a couple of times, that assuming he wasn’t playing dumb for starters and wanted to test Hermes’ limits above all things. And almost coincidentally, the way the music played more energetically, wrapped both of them in a tighter embrace, finally picking up a pace less exploratory, and more passionate.
They didn’t even need to speak to each other. They were both made for dancing, after all, and the slightest difference in the messenger’s moves was to be caught by the God of Destruction, who would always respond accordingly to them. And despite that strong build of his, when he and Hermes danced, he was as light as a plume, his body moving to the lead. Shiva was a natural dancer, after all, so he would be quick to learn something as simple as that.
“Lord Shiva, I am afraid I cannot maintain the leading role any longer. It is slightly awkward to have to move your body around.” Spoke Hermes, laughing. “Besides, I could show you where my skill takes me if you agree to take my place, as you’ve seen to have caught the steps rather well.”
The longer-haired god walked a couple steps away, extending his right hand for Shiva to take, not without taking the gloves off both of them first, tossing them away, for some other god to trip over them and fall. Once again, it was their hands that wrapped with each other, as they held tightly. The grip was deadly, a slight pain ran through his hands, but he was more than just at peace with the sensation.
“Well, if that’s your wish.”
And his body was slammed closer to Shiva’s, almost way too close to his chest. He was being held by two hands on his back; a third one was the one that had its fingers interlocked with Hermes’, leaving one wandering directionessly, ghosting on top of the other god’s waist, unsure on whether or not he should grab it.
“Show me what you’ve got.”
“With pleasure."
The music wrapped them in an even tighter embrace. They moved swiftly, the dance floor becoming their very own divine territory, as Shiva pushed Hermes wherever he so desired. After all, he would follow wherever his body pushed him to. The patterns they moved in became complex despite its simple structure, and the sound of both of their shoes hitting the ground loudly was muffled by the louder music, that only made their movements become more hectic as a result, but still maintaining a certain poise to them. Hermes’ body was being handled like the lightest weight on the entire universe, and the godly messenger took advantage of that, showing how refined his dancing skills actually were.
Figure eights were drawns perfectly on the ground with his shoes, and it almost looked like he was floating on Shiva’s arms. Maybe, it was the sandals that he had forgotten to take off in the spur of the moment that made him look as if he was an angelic figure moving on thin air, or maybe, it was the thick atmosphere that embraced them both. His legs would stretch with no effort at all, and he’d lock himself on Shiva’s waist as they danced. He would hold onto him as if this was the last time he’d ever be by his side, and they would completely appropriate those heavenly grounds, even if it was for that second.
Their faces were comfortably close to each other’s. It didn’t matter how short the distance was, they only seemed to be more at ease, the more their breaths mingled, lips partially open as they tried to keep their breathing steady. They were so comfortable with each other, and it showed;
It showed in the way Shiva’s hands softly made their way up Herme’s back, caressing him on top of the layers of clothing of his suit.
Or in how Hermes confidently let Shiva set up an even faster pace, knowing he’d follow with about no major inconveniences.
Their bodies were sweating, limbs entangled, in a sight that should’ve been captured and allowed into eternity by sculpting it with even luxury of details. Every move was dripping on artistic beauty, it was pure perfection, the result of the encounters of two gods could not be anything but an utmost blessing to the eyes. The music was loud, despite the deafening sound, they could still hear each other’s messy breathing.
And yet, they refused to stop their dance. Their frenetic, divine dance couldn't stop, they were way too invested in it to even think about it. It was fantastic, a complete out of body experience for both of them. All they knew was each other, and the little quirks of their movements, and they were amazed by each other’s anatomies.
The music gradually became slower, and with their keen ears, they adapted to the sound’s velocity.
Hermes’ weight was on his godly companion as the sounds became slower. Their bodies were closer to the ground than before, and Shiva couldn’t help but wonder just how flexible his partner actually was. Their eyes met, messy stares being exchanged as Shiva pulled Herme’s right arm, just right behind the hindu god’s head, in a way too classic motion for the genre they were performing.
They tried to gain their breathing back for the time being. Until the melody once again picked up its fast tempo, they could stop and wait.
Shiva’s features were fascinating up-close. Even more when he looked like this, tired out after an everlasting session of movements that they both hoped would have lasted forever, because, damn, that would’ve been almost ideal.
The feeling of the rest of their bodies faintly touching each other as they danced, the grips held, the almost nonexistent distance that separated them… And now their gorgeously flushed faces…
“That was something…”
Hermes laughed, still trying to take in the sight he was getting right in front of his eyes, and the experience that had just ended. Still, despite their sounds now being louder, and the music being a ghost just like their former touches, he almost seemed to refuse to let go of Shiva. Not that Shiva himself wanted to let go either.
It seemed to be a reciprocated feeling. And he was quite glad it was.
“It sure was.” Now it was the bigger man that let a chuckle leave his lips, although softening the grip he had on Hermes’ hand, before he could accidentally hurt him. Even though they were gods, and their wounds would not precisely last longer than a couple days, weeks at most, they were unimportant. Still, getting Zeus’ most important servant injured and unable to perform his duties was not ideal.
Just like before, their eyes glistened, and reflected each other on their surfaces. No matter how much they blinked, it was a mirror-like reflection. There was an odd purity to the way they seemed to be so on top of each other, as if it was their soul’s very own desire, one they had locked for hundreds of years, and that now had become a reality.
“You’re a fast learner, Lord Shiva.”
“I guess so.” Hermes was held by the waist as those words were spoken, his body pulled closer than ever, with almost no space separating them. “But I also had an amazing teacher as well”
“It’s nothing, really. I am also capable of offering private dancing lessons, if that interests you.”
“What about Zeus?”
The question came out of the other man’s in a very teasing manner, and Hermes used the hand that was gripping Shiva’s back to give him a very soft hit, barely noticeable for the other God, who even laughed at the gesture.
“Someone else can take care of him… Now, shall we dance again?”
“Lead the way.”