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The cold chill of the underworld hit his skin as he flew down, a shiver ran up his spine, but it wasn't anything he wasn't used to.
This time there wasn't anyone to guide, to help or a message to send. but instead someone to see.
His feet hit the ground, the golden wings attached to the heel of the shoe contrasting and shimmering against the deep desaturated blues of the realm around him. When he began his search, the prophet wasn't hard to spot, but he tended to roam often, causing what Hermes thought of to be a little game in his mind. The glowing teals of tiresias caught his eye, a smile forming on his face as he approached.
He sneaked up behind him, attempting to catch him off guard, he went to speak before tiresias chimed in, catching himself off guard instead.
“I know you're there hermes.”
“wh-?? how- oh right.” he paused, realizing his error.
turns out sneaking up on prophets is a difficult task.
Tiresias turned to face hermes, for curtsy purposes.
“Do you need something?”
“Not quite my dear!” the trickster waltzed closer to the soul, taking his cold cheek into his hand, it wasn't quite solid, but it was enough.
“Just here for you” his tone was smug, but had loving undertones.
“How sweet.” the man replied, deadpan tone present, however despite it, he rested his hand ontop of hermes’s, recriprocating the touch.
Hermes moved to pull Tiresias in closer, chest to chest, with the prophet allowing it.
with his arm wrapped around his waist, and a hand on his shoulder, Hermes turned his head to kiss him on the cheek. His touch was gentle, kind, almost human, so unlike what you'd expect from the gods.
Tiresias had always liked that about him.
The ghost melted into the touch, wrapping his own hands around the trickster's waist, resting his head against his shoulder.
“For a trickster god you tend to be quite kind.”
“And for a prophet you tend to be quite ominous”
“It's funnier that way.” the man spoke quickly, as if they've had the conversation a hundred times over.
he smiled. “That's my boy” Hermes replied, as he pulled down the hood the soul wore over his head, revealing the long hair underneath, he rested his hands into it, relishing in the soft coolness of it.
Tiresias removed his grasp from Hermes' waist, instead moving it to his face. no matter how many times he's felt it, he’ll never get sick of his features. the god leaned into the touch, winged ears moving out of the way of his face to allow more room for Tiresias’s hand.
he moved from his chin, to his soft cheeks, to his crooked nose, to resting his hand below the eyes he wished he could get the chance to see, even just once.
“Like whatcha you feel?” Hermes chuckled out, teasing tone present as always.
“I do indeed.” Despite the swindler's tone, Tiresias's was genuine and soft, adoration clear in his words.
“Hmm, well I like your face too.”
“Is that so?” his thumb moves to the gods lips, feeling the warm smile plastered on it, along with the soft lips that accompany the joy.
“mhm! a handsome ghost you are.” Hermes cooed as his hands moved to cup the prophets face once more, admiring it.
“How charming.” The cool hands continued to trace the other's face, never wanting to let go.
“I know right? and they say I'm just a lowly thief!” Tiresias couldn't help but chuckle at the sarcastic tone in his lover's voice.
“You are, but I'm okay with that.”
Hermes simply responded with a hum, clearly lost in a river of thought, Tiresias didn't mind.
After a moment of silence, the thief spoke.
“Is it weird to say I'm glad you died?”
Tiresias paused, tilting his head with confusion painted onto his face.
“it's certainly a thing to say”
“No- I mean- I'm glad you died because I got to meet you- I think- I don't know-” he rambled on, producing a mess of a word vomit before Tiresias covered his mouth, finally getting a chance to speak.
“I understand Hermes, if it means anything, I'm glad I died too.”
Despite his mouth being covered, he spoke again, as if nothing could stop him whatsoever.
“are you sure because I heard arrows hurt quite a lot-”
“I'm sure hermes.”
It really wasn't a lie, he would die a hundred times over if it meant he'd meet the god again, to enjoy his company.
He knew how it would end, but it didn't matter, he didn't care.
Everything must come to an end, nothing gold can stay, he learned that when he was young.
So he would cherish the gold while he still had it, with all the love in his heart.
Even this moment would end, Hermes would get a call for another delivery, another message to send. they'd say their goodbyes and wish each other well until the next time, that's how it always went.
Each goodbye got him thinking about the next one, until the end of the goodbyes.
until the end of the gold.
He just hopes he's gold in his eyes too, that they're both cherished, and memorialized in some way.
All he wanted was to forget.
Not this. Never this.