Chapter Text
As the last camper left, Dionysus let out a long-suffering sigh. He melted into his chair on the porch, enjoying in the wonderful silence. For once in all his years as camp director, none of those little shits were staying year-round. Somehow, by some stroke of luck, all of them had something to do or some family to visit.
Dionysus had the rest of the year to himself... well, almost to himself.
“It’ll be so empty without the children around, don’t you agree?” Chiron asked as he walked over to the table, hooves clopping against the wooden porch. Doesn’t this guy have anything else to do? Is he really gonna stay at camp all year, willingly? Dionysus then remembered the centaur was immortal for the sake of training heroes, so apparently he was.
“You could go visit relatives? They seem like they’d be fun to hang out with for a while.” Dionysus offers, but he knows his attempt to get Chiron out of camp won’t work. The guy hates his cousins.
Chiron raised an eyebrow, calling the god’s bullshit immediately. “My cousins…the party ponies? Who I only visit during emergencies? The ones I openly dislike?” He asked, crossing his arms as his tail flicked in annoyance.
Dionysus was silent for a beat, trying to salvage this somehow. “No no, of course not! Not those relatives! I meant your…” Siblings? Hell no, that would be so much worse than suggesting the other centaurs.
How would that even go? Y’know what you should do Chiron? Go visit your half siblings! Y’know the ones, the gods who barely respect you! Y’know, like your half brother Zeus! Who kicked you out of the camp that you literally live for because you're Kronos's kid, which he also is!’
“...your dad!” Dionysus blurted out, wanting to disappear then and there. His dad!? Kronos!? That one!? Wait no, no he could fix this. Before Chiron could say anything Dionysus rushed to amend his err. “Apollo probably misses you, when’s the last time you paid him and Artemis a visit?”
Chiron was caught off-guard, mouth slightly agape as he was trying to formulate a response. “...Despite how obvious it is that you’re just trying to usher me out, I have to agree. It’s been a long time since I’ve paid them a visit. Although I must wonder, what do you have planned that needs me out of camp?” The centaur asked, tone skeptical and slightly judgy.
Dionysus sipped on his diet coke, taking his sweet time drinking it as he tried to stall. He was planning to get the satyrs to pour wine for him, get shit faced drunk, and spend the year in bliss. Chiron did not need to know that.
“Just relax, I suppose. Enjoy my time to myself. Is that so wrong?” He said, crossing his arms. Dionysus doubted that Chiron would buy it, but it was worth a shot.
Chiron smirked, settling into his wheelchair and pulling up to the table. “What a coincidence! I had that exact plan in mind! Relaxing, enjoying the rare silence we’ve been blessed with! I think I’ll stay, Apollo can wait.” He said with a smile. On the surface his expression looked genuine and kind, but Dionysus knew better. He saw that gleam of mirth in the centaur’s eyes, that little hidden tone of humor in his voice as he grabbed the deck of cards on the table. “Shall we kick off our off-season with a game of pinochle, old friend?” Chiron asked, easing into his wheelchair to sit at the table.
The coke can dented and creaked under the god’s tightening grasp, Chiron thought he was sooooo funny, didn’t he? Ruining Dionysus’s party before it even got started! He slowly set the can down as he glared at Chiron from behind his sunglasses. “Sure thing, old pal.” He said through slightly gritted teeth. “But first, I need to speak with the satyrs.” Dionysus said as he rose from his chair, planning to accost one of them for wine.
“Your alcohol can wait, I’m sure of it.” Chiron said as he shuffled the cards, seeing right through his former pupil. “Besides, I figured you’d be smart enough to not choose someone who’d easily confess to be your little cup bearer, if put under pressure.” He commented, and he was right. Dionysus never used the satyrs to get around his punishment because he knew most of them wouldn’t keep their mouths shut about it.
Dionysus plopped back down in his chair with a grunt, crossing his arms as he thought about it. “I guess you have a point, so what do you suggest I do, Professor Hay-for-Breath?” He scoffed, swirling his drink in its dented can.
Chiron narrowed his gaze at the sound of that hated nickname. It had been started up by the god years ago, and it seemed that nothing Chiron did would make him stop. “Well,” He said, clearing his throat, “I would say that you should just wait out the punishment, but you won’t accept that answer. So I suggest you find someone either thick-headed or just plain stupid enough to defy Zeus.” Chiron said as he dealt the cards, giving Dionysus a perfect idea.
“Someone like you?”
“Are you implying that I’m stupid or that I’m thick-headed?”
“...if I say thick-headed will you pour me some wine?”
Chiron let out a long sigh and Dionysus could swear he heard a hoof hitting the porch in annoyance, despite Chiron being in his wheelchair.
Dionysus smirked as he picked up his cards. “Come on, there’s no kids to set a good example for. Genuinely, when’s the last time you actually let yourself unwind?” He asked. It wasn’t the most morally sound decisions he could make at this moment, but Dionysus slowly started trickling his influence into Chiron’s head, compelling him to drink and enjoy the merriment that came with intoxication.
Chiron’s expression darkened, his posture tensing as he felt Dionysus in his head. “Watch yourself, little godling.” The centaur warned, using a tone Dionysus hadn’t heard in years.
All of a sudden he was a kid again, his ‘mother’ Ino had just lost her mind and he was on his own. A stranger, a centaur, had taken him in as an apprentice. Apparently the centaur, who said his name was Chiron, trained heroes? Dionysus didn’t think himself to be a hero, he was just some teenager. But the centaur wanted to teach him stuff, dances and chants and things he never would’ve learned at the palace with his parents. When he asked why, the centaur only laughed. He put a hand on Dionysus’s shoulder and said words that would stick with the young boy for the rest of his life, mortal and otherwise: I see your potential, little godling. At the time Dionysus had no idea what the near-stranger meant, calling him a ‘godling’.
Dionysus was silent, expression unreadable as Chiron rose from his wheelchair. Not a word was uttered as Chiron returned holding a bottle of wine. The sound of liquid pouring cut through the silence, Dionysus finally spoke up as the glass was handed to him. “...’m not a ‘godling’ anymore, nor am I little.” He argued, tension melting off his body as he took a sip of that sweet elixir known as Merlot.
Chiron’s expression softened just a little bit, but he was still clearly miffed about earlier. “Ah, forgive me old friend. Old habit, I suppose.” He said, but Dionysus knew him well enough to know when Chiron was sorry.
He wasn’t, that fucking dickhead.
“Whatever, just play your trick.” Dionysus grumbled as their game of pinochle started. As he sipped his wine, he felt whole again. Being the God of wine, not having his wine around was like having a piece of him ripped away. He felt sluggish, weak, and above all else: he felt alone annoyed.
The game was played in silence as Dionysus slowly nursed his drink, frowning when he was met with an empty glass. He looked up, about to ask for more, but paused. Chiron had poured himself a glass, but hadn’t even touched it.
“Wanna slide that one over?” Dionysus asked, gesturing to Chiron’s drink. He hated to see good wine go to waste.
Seemingly just to spite him, Chiron took a sip of his wine, licking his lips as he set the glass down. “I'll pour you another one if you win.” He challenged, his lips turning up in a smile.
Dionysus scoffed as he laid a card down… immediately losing the trick, nevertheless he was determined to win. “Alright then, you’re on!” It seemed like the earlier transgressions had passed as the two men played cards, the odds not in his favor in the slightest. Chiron was the one who taught Dionysus how to play this game, and the god loved it more than almost everything the mortals had made (with pacman being a close second), but he just couldn’t seem to beat his old mentor.
“If you ever wanted tips, I’d be happy to oblige! Nothing makes me happier than seeing a pupil surpass their teacher.” Chiron said in that sickeningly sweet voice he had, Dionysus knew that underneath that kind, gentle, caring tone was enough patronization to floor a horse. Pun intended.
“Not your pupil anymore, hay-for-breath.” Dionysus shot back, putting down his card with slightly more force than needed. “That was literally thousands of years ago.” He didn’t like thinking about that time in his life, for more than a few reasons.
Chiron looked like he wanted to say something, but simply took another sip of his wine as he put down two melds... a trump marriage that was then used in a trump run. How lovely. Dionysus hadn’t been paying too close attention to the points, he was busy with his wine, but he was almost certain that Chiron was close to winning.
“Shame, looks like that one glass will have to hold you over.” Chiron commented offhandedly, not looking up from his deck of cards. Gods this man irked him, he was smart and he knew it. It wasn’t even that that irked Dionysus, it was when Chiron flaunted it. When Chiron outsmarted him and he let out that stupid little chuckle and his expression lit up and you could see all his laugh lines and crow's feet and-
“Dionysus,” Chiron asked, raising an eyebrow, “What’s on your mind?” He said, his tone casual and his question loaded.
Dionysus rolled his eyes as he put down a card. “Just how good this wine is gonna taste when I win it off you.” He snapped back, shutting down the inquiry before it could fully kick off. Chiron didn’t call his bluff, but the look in his weathered eyes made it clear that he didn’t buy it.
The rest of the game was mostly uneventful, but as time went on Dionysus noticed that the game was tilting in his favor. With each round his mood picked up, by the end of the game he was grinning from ear to ear. “Ha! I oughta start calling you hay-for-brains! That was too easy!” He boasted as he held out his glass, which Chiron filled with more wine. “Your old age is getting to you, Chiron.” Dionysus teased as he pulled his glass back, revelling in the taste.
Chiron had this weird expression on his face as he watched Dionysus sip his wine. His eyes bore into the God as he took a sip from his own cup. Dionysus glanced at the centaur from behind his sunglasses as he wiped his mouth, slowly putting his glass down. “Do I have something in my beard?” He asked, running his fingers through his curly facial hair.
Chiron seemed to snap out of a trance, softly chuckling as he shook his head. “Not at all, I was just thinking.” He said, then proceeded to not elaborate further. Dionysus seriously hated how cryptic this guy was.
“About what?” He huffed, watching his wine swirl in the glass. Merlot was one of his favorites. A beautiful dark red wine, the fruity smell wafting in the air as he rested his elbow on the table. The notes of plum, cherry, and even a little chocolatey flavor in the very back of each sip. Wine truly was his greatest achievement, that and the dramedy.
He almost missed Chiron’s answer as he pondered his wine, but what the man said could snap him out of any moment of solemn appreciation of his creation:
“I was just thinking…It’s kind of funny that you’ve grown up so much, but you’re not at all unrecognizable from that little demigod I found in the wilderness. So much has changed, but at the same time nothing has.”
Dionysus set his glass down, taking off his sunglasses to properly glare down the centaur. “Oh yeah? What’s that mean?” He asked, his tone accusatory as he folded his hands, waiting for an answer. Though he doubted anything Chiron said would cover the sting of his words.
Chiron, seeming taken aback by Dionysus’s reaction, shrugged. “Just that you’re still the same old Dionysus you’ve always been. It’s nice to think about how throughout all the years you’re still the same old you.” He explained, only making things worse.
Dionysus scoffed, shaking his head. “And the campers call me inattentive. If you seriously think that, you better get your eyes checked.” He spat, voice dripping in vitriol. “What in the name of Olympus has compelled you to equate me to some lost teen crying in the desert!?” He demanded, fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white.
Chiron raised his hands in supplication, voice level and calm as he tried to smooth things out. “That’s not what I meant, Dio. I simply-”
“Don’t call me that!” Dionysus snapped, smacking a hand on the table for emphasis. “You haven’t called me that in years-” since he was a demigod “-What in my father’s name has compelled you to pick that back up? You ain’t got any kids around so you’re gonna start projecting onto me, is that it?” He accused, so mad he could spit fire. Who did this guy think he was, talking to a god like he was some kid!? (sure, Dionysus was significantly younger than Chiron and his former pupil, but that was irrelevant.)
Chiron set his hands in his lap, folding them as he calmly thought of his next response. Gods that got on Dionysus’s nerves, the way Chiron always took a beat before responding to anything. “It was always a fond term of endearment on my end of things, I suppose you don’t feel the same. Apologies.” He said, expression unreadable but still kind nonetheless.
There was a moment of tense silence blanketed over the two men, leaving them both awkward and unsure of what to say next until Chiron reached over and took Dionysus’s cup. “Allow me to top you off, old friend.” He offered, clearly trying to make amends as he filled the glass back up and handed it over.
Dionysus, for a second, considered not taking it out of spite. Hands down one of the stupidest ideas he’s had. The god grumbled out a ‘thank you’ as he sipped the wine, the smell of sour grapes filling the air as he sat with his annoyance. He knew Chiron didn’t mean it like that, he doubted Chiron even really knew why the comment upset him so much, but the hurt was there.
“...you let me win, didn’t you.” Dionysus asked, looking at Chiron out of his peripherals. It made sense, the game suddenly getting easier right after Dionysus shut down Chiron’s attempts to ask about his wellbeing.
The centaur rolled back and forth in his wheelchair, pretending to be in deep thought about the game. “Hm, I think you’d finally strike me down if I did that.” Chiron said, neither confirming or denying the allegations. “What do you care, though? You got your wine.”
“It’s a matter of principle!” Dionysus huffed, but he still very much enjoyed the wine he got from that maybe rigged game. “And I’ve known you long enough to know when you’ve got a scheme.”
“A scheme? Please, tell me all about my scheme to get you drunk.” Chiron laughed as he finally finished his first glass and poured himself another one. “I’d love to hear all about this supposed master plan, what in the name of Olympus do I have to gain from stroking your already egregious ego and helping you dodge your father’s punishment?” He teased, his cheeks looking a little rosy as he sipped his wine, taking to it a bit quicker than he did his first glass.
Dionysus had never seen Chiron intoxicated before, it was quite the sight. His eyes had this spark of mischief, his smile was a bit wider, his cheeks had this soft rosy tint to them, and he-
“You’re staring, Dionysus.” Chiron pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “And you haven’t answered my question.”
Dionysus just rolled his eyes, causing a strawberry plant to grow beside him so he could enjoy the fruit. “You look ridiculous when you’re drunk, that’s all.” He lied. “As for your scheme… how should I know! You may have been raised by Apollo, but you’d think it was Athena with all the convoluted shit you come up with.”
Chiron laughed, and it wasn’t that curt little chuckle he usually had, that one was restrained and ‘sophisticated’. This was a real laugh, hearty and full bodied. The centaur’s eyes seemed to have the sun in them, fitting for Apollo’s foster son, as he shook his head. “Dionysus you are just a card! No wonder you’re the god of theatre.” He said, clearly drunk. Dionysus had heard that centaurs get drunk from rootbeer, so he had to admit he was curious to see what actual alcohol would do to one. Hang on, now that he thought about it, he had heard one story about centaurs and wine-
“By the gods I better put this down.” Chiron laughed, pushing his half empty second glass of wine away. “Last time my brethren took part in wine…” The man trailed off, then cleared his throat. “Anyways. Mind summoning me a soda?” Chiron asked, rolling his wheelchair back and forth. Dionysus couldn’t tell if the movement was restless or impatient.
Dionysus smirked, pushing the glass back. “Oh c’mon Chiron! What’s the worst that could happen?” He asked, and Chiron immediately gave him that look, the one he gave the demigods when they asked a question they’d’ve known the answer to if he paid attention to his lectures.
“... The Centauromachy? One of the most famous examples of Centaur brutality in history, explicitly caused by the consumption of wine?” Ughhhh, Dionysus wanted the silly drunk Chiron back, this was a pain in the ass.
“The centauromachy… ahhh, yep i remember that now.” Dionysus said awkwardly, clearing his throat. Centaurs are invited to a wedding, the wine gets the whole lot of them worked up, hell breaks loose and they start killing people and try to kidnap the bride, ect. ect. Let’s maybe not give one of the most powerful centaurs ever some wine, just a hunch.
Chiron nodded, pushing his glass back over to Dionysus. “I shouldn’t have even had that first glass, much less the half of this one I drank.” He sighed, eyeing the wine glass like he was trying very hard to not pull it back. Dionysus had to hand it to him, Chiron was very self-controlled. Although it got boring pretty quick, he’d love to see what would happen if Chiron just let go, for fuck’s sake they’re both immortal so it’s not like anyone would get hurt.
Dionysus took the half empty glass, swirling the liquid inside. “So a bunch of centaurs got a bit too into the wine one time, and now you’ve swore it off? I mean, I can summon rootbeer if you want but I really don’t see the issu-”
“Dionysus.” Chiron interrupted, voice sharp like a bullwhip. His eyes cold and mean. Dionysus had never seen Chiron like this, hell he had hardly seen Chiron surpass a state of mild irritation. Any anger he had seen in the past has always been accompanied by endearance and maybe even a bit of fondness. “I don’t drink. Now unless you plan to honor my request for a soda, I’m going to get one from the big house.”
Dionysus begrudgingly summoned a blackberry ginger ale, he would’ve summoned a grape soda to be petty but Chiron didn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes. However, he’d still summon something fruit related, it was simply on-brand for him.
The older centaur was silent as he opened the can, taking a sip as he kept that hard glare on his face. Not specifically directed at Dionysus anymore, but it still stung.
It reminded Dionysus of being a demigod and fumbling through Chiron’s spear training, getting scolded and reminded that living a pampered life in Boeotia wasn’t an excuse. Although Dionysus thought that was a perfect excuse for his struggles in learning outdoorsmanship and combat, and gods know Chiron’s attempts to teach him medicine ended horridly. Dionysus still remembers the grimace on his mentor’s face when presented with whatever concoction the young demigod tried to pass for a tonic.
After a moment, Chiron took a slow breath and calmed himself. “I am aware that you were referring to the campers, but when you accused me of projecting on you it made me think of my actual children.” He explained.
Ah yeah, Dionysus hadn’t really thought about that. Chiron had four kids, of course that’s what he’d think of when called an empty nester.
He awkwardly cleared his throat, looking down at his glass. “Hmp, I see. Well you’re right, I wasn’t talking about your kids. Hell, I forgot you had kids.” He grumbled, narrowly avoiding one of Chiron’s many attempts to get the God to discuss his emotions.
Chiron chuckled, nodding in understanding. “I'm not surprised, I had left my home in Mount Pelion to find you, among other pupils of mine." He explained, drumming his fingers on the table. “I had four children, three daughters and a son."
“Man. gotta feel bad for your wife." Dionysus joked, snickering into his glass. Chiron gave him that steel glare again, but there was hardly any anger behind it, just mild annoyance and… maybe endearment?
“My wife, Chariclo, and I were very happy together. She was a water nymph, the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen…" Chiron trailed off, staring off in the distance with a dreamy look in his eyes. Dionysus gave him a moment, letting him dwell on the memories of his wife. Dionysus knew what that was like, he'd spent many a night thinking about Ariadne.
The two men sat in a comfortable silence, Dionysus sipping his wine and Chiron enjoying his soda. Dionysus found himself, once again, studying Chiron's face. He was immortal, but unlike most immortal beings Chiron aged with the years. He looked to be in his mid 70's, but he wore it well. Dionysus found his eyes tracing the smile lines and crows feet, the marking of a life well lived. Then…Dionysus was staring at Chiron's lips. His brow furrowed as he was deep in thought. What was he thinking about? Funnily enough, his time as a demigod. He'd never admit it, not even to his closest friends, but when his teen self had been rescued by a strapping centaur who literally carried around a stick with rabbit pelts hanging off it… well he developed a bit of a crush. Could you blame him? He was sheltered and freshly traumatized.
“Dionysus? Are you quite alright? You seem very deep in thought." Chiron pointed out, swirling his soda in it's can as he looked at Dionysus with such care. Maybe his teen self had been onto something…
“Gee, thanks for the astute obversation Chiron. I never would've known I was deep in thought if you hadn't told me yourself." Dionysus mocked, finishing off his glass. He should've held it out for a top off, but he paused for a second. Chiron had made a slight move to grab the bottle, knowing his former pupil well enough to know he'd likely ask for more, but something had shifted in Chiron's expression when he did. He seemed… hopeful, like he was waiting to see if Dionyus would drink or not.
Dionysus knew Chiron wanted him to put the drink down, to abide by his father's stupid punishment and be sober for a few more years, but cmon! He'd won this wine fair and square! Nevertheless, Dionysus found himself setting the glass down. “So… You enjoy teaching all those brats? Why?” Dionysus finally asked, struggling to find something to say to fill the silence.
Chiron smiled, his cheeks still a bit rosy from the alcohol in his system. “Well, there’s a few reasons. First off, I’ll always be a father at heart, I’ll always have a deep care for children. Secondly, my foster father is the god of teachers; I suppose I carry his spark for education.” Chiron shrugged, but Dionysus could tell the old centaur was hiding something. Ah well, none of his business. He didn’t care. Not at all. He couldn’t care less about Chiron.
Dionysus looked down at his glass, then huffed. “Yknow- and don’t get mad! I think you should have some more wine.” He said, raising his hand to silence the arguments he knew Chiron would have. “Consider it! There’s no kids, no one to take care of. And I’m a god, the least likely to get hurt if anything happens and the most likely to be equipped to handle a drunken centaur.” He pointed out, sliding the mostly full glass over to Chiron.
The centaur’s nostrils flared, he licked his lips as he eyed the glass. “I must be honest, I am already surpressing multiple primal urges from the small amount I’ve already consumed. I fear that if I have more, I might resort to my base instincts.”
That little bit of Dionysus, the teen boy staring at his new mentor in awe and a bit of teen puppy love, perked up at the thought of Chiron’s ‘base instincts’. “Well at that point what’s the point of abstaining! You’re already on edge, might as well jump the fence, y’know?” He pointed out, holding the glass out to Chiron.
There was a moment of silence. Chiron looked around, as if expecting to see some lost little runt, before taking the glass and downing it rather quickly. “Yknow-” he started, the alcohol hitting his system far faster than normal. “I’m not even a centaur- like bioligcally. My mom was a nymph, my dad was a titan who turned into a horse mid-coitous to stop Rhea from catching him having an affair.” He chuckled, rubbing his temple. “When I was a foal, I used to go crying to Apollo begging him to tell me what I was. He either said ‘a centaur’ or ‘my son’. I was never happy with either answer.”
Dionysus listened and nodded, he sort of understood. The transition from Random Boy Being Raised By His Aunt, to Demigod Being Raised By Satyrs, Nymphs, And Sometimes A Centaur, to A Literally God was… rough, to say the least. Not to mention his casting down back to Earth, with a massive chunk of his domain ripped from him.
“Im classified as a monster, and I don’t dispute that. I can smell them, Dionysus, the campers.” He admitted, his tone taking a dark edge to it. “There’s a part of me, I part I’ve worked hard to repress, that is so hungry.” He said, sounding a bit exasperated. “Centuries of self control, centuries of counseling from Apollo and Artemis, could be undone by a single slip of my resolve.” He said, his words airy as if he were struggling to get a full breath.
“You smell like a demigod, especially now that you’re bound to camp.”
Dionysus felt the tension. He felt the way Chiron stared at him with feral eyes. He felt his hair stand up on end. He felt his cheeks flush golden with ichor. “Yeah? You plan to hunt me down and try to eat me?” He challenged, already moving to get out of his chair in case something happened.
Chiron, upon being faced with the reality of what he’d likely do if he followed this path of questionable decisions, immediately tried to sober himself up, smacking his cheeks and shaking his arms around. “No! No of course not! I’d never forgive myself if I turned on you like, Dionysus.” He huffed.
Dionysus furrowed his brow, Chiron seemed to still see him like a pupil. Gods that got on Dionysus’s nerves. The god stood up, dusting himself off. “Good, because you’d make a fool of yourself.” He shrugged, catching the drunk centaur’s attention.
“Wh- huh? Pardon me?” He said, gripping the sides of his wheelchair. “I am a centaur, I can bend space and time to run as fast as I like! You can teleport, but not outside of camp’s boundaries!” Chiron pointed out, his words slurring. “And that’s assuming I want to catch you with my hands! I was raised by TWO deities of archery! Who’s to say I won’t- won’t shoot you in the leg- knee- foot- something like that! And just track your blood until I get bored of watching you hobble through the woods!” Chiron huffed. He seemed a bit distracted for a second, maybe imagining what Dionysus would look like stumbling through the woods like prey.
Dionysus nodded, slowly starting to back up. He knew the second he turned his back to Chiron the chase would start, so he tried to draw it out a little. “mhm! I dont care how ‘primal’ that wine makes you, you could never hunt me! You said it yourself, centuries of self control! You’ve lost your touch! You couldn’t catch a demigod if they were one legged and blind!” He taunted. Okay maybe that was a bit much.
Chiron clambered out of his wheelchair, knocking it over with the force of which he got up. He didn’t even have a quippy remark, he just drunkenly stumbled over himself as he made his way off the porch, baring his teeth as he glared at Dionysus with pure primal vitriol. The god chuckled at how clumsy Chiron was as he turned, taking off towards the woods.
Dionysus, even as a mortal, was athletic. Somewhere in his mad dash to the woods his shoes came off, which was more than fine by him. His clothes shifted too, from a Hawaiian shirt and khakis to a toga. Dionysus had stumbled a little when he realized it was the same toga he wore as a teen, when Chiron first found him. Part of him wondered if Chiron had that same hunger back then, or maybe it was stronger? After all, at that point in his life Dionysus was a ‘big three’ demigod.
Seemingly out of nowhere, an arrow whizzed past his head, taking a lock of curly hair with it. Dionysus cursed under his breath, his brief stumble giving Chiron ample time to close the distance. He got back on pace, his ichor pumping through his veins as he sprinted through the woods. He made the decision to not teleport or use any major godly powers, he wanted to give Chiron the chance to hunt a ‘demigod’. And maybe he wanted to get caught.
He started scaling a tree, his nails shifted to feline talons to grip the bark. He got himself up on a high branch, hiding within the leaves. Good thing he made haste, because mere seconds later Chiron came galloping in. Gods Dionysus was so glad he goaded him.
Chiron’s tweed jacket was gone, revealing a body weathered by age but toned nontheless. He was panting heavily, his saliva frothing on his lips as he looked around, tracking Dionysus’s footsteps. He stopped right in front of the tree Dionysus had hidden in, looking at the claw marks. He looked up, almost immediately finding Dionysus. Who’d’ve thought wearing a white toga while hiding in a tree with green leaves wasn’t a good idea!
He notched an arrow, pointing it right at Dionysus. The god went to leap to a neighboring tree, but even in his altered state of mind Chiron anticipated that. Thankfully he missed, the arrow only grazing the god’s side. He winced, crashing into the tree and falling to the ground. He hit the earth with a thud, the air getting knocked out of his lungs as Ichor dripped from his cut waist. Chiron stood over him, a wicked smirk on his lips as he stared down at Dionysus. “What was that you said, little godling? Something about not catching a blind one legged kid?” Chiron mocked, his tone cruel as he took his sweet time approaching Dionysus’s bleeding form.
Dionysus forced himself up on his feet, gripping his side. “Y- yeah.” He panted, his chest still tight from the force of the fall. “I meant it! You just got a lucky shot.” He mocked, further angering the already raging centaur.
Chiron reared up on his hind legs, trying to crack Dionysus’s skull. Dionysus ducked out of the way, stumbling through the woods as the sun started to set. His ichor left a nice trail for Chiron to follow as Dionysus ran wildly through the woods, nearby plants growing a bit in response to his stress. Was he getting more than he bargained for? Maybe. But that little bit of him, that teen part that was a bit too happy to have Chiron looking down at him, was over the moon with glee. That part was really fighting for control of Dionysus’s decision making as he ran wildly through the trees, leaving a plethora of ichor, footprints, and broken branches for Chiron to track.
He heard the thudding of hooves against the ground, the whiz of an arrow right past his head, and the rapid beating of his own heart as he tried to keep up a sprint, but his legs were getting tired. How was that even happening? He’s a god, his legs shouldn’t get tired! It never occurred to Dionysus that maybe he was willing himself to conform to mortal standards, just to make the chase more exhilarating.
Suddenly, Dionysus tripped over a root. He careened into the ground, getting the wind knocked out of his lungs. By the time he got off his stomach, Chiron was on him. Literally. The centaur had settled down onto his knees right on top of Dionysus, pinning him to the ground. Chiron’s eye were wide, his breath coming in raggedy pants.
Of all the things Dionysus could’ve said in that moment, he only felt mild regret for picking “Do it, you wont.” as the first thing to blurt out.
Chiron took the challenge. In the blink of an eye, Dionysus felt teeth in his shoulder. Chiron was biting him, hard. He felt his ichor dripping from the wound, he felt Chiron’s warm tongue against him skin lapping up his divine blood. He felt goosebumps rising on his arms as Chiron grabbed his wrists, pinning them above his head.
Now, Dionysus was no stranger to biting. They don’t call him ‘the flesh-eater’ for nothing. And of course, he could always take a more leopard-like form if he so desired. And he did desire. He willed his teeth to sharpen, likening to a wild cat’s fangs, then craned his neck to sink his teeth into Chiron’s arm. For a normal mortal, centaur blood was a toxin so potent a single drop applied to the skin could kill; thankfully Dionysus was neither of those things.
Dionysus heard a low growl in Chiron’s throat, gods that light a fire in his stomach, as the centaur tried to get his arm free. Dionysus kept to it, hissing as Chiron tried to shake him off. When the shaking stopped working, Chiron tried another tactic: shoving Dionysus’s head back, smashing his skull into the ground. Dionysus felt the trickle of ichor on the back of his head, his ears ringing as he was forced to let go.
Chiron had, at some point, let go of Dionysus’s shoulder. Dionysus didn’t know when, he was too busy drinking Centaur blood and getting his head smashed into the ground. Chiron gripped his chin, watching his face for a moment. Even in his drunken, frenzied stupor Chiron still had that look in his eyes that made Dionysus feel like his former mentor was always 5 steps away and planning the 6th.
Before Dionysus could fully get his bearings and look for another piece of flesh to sink his canines into, Chiron used his grip on the god’s chin to pull him into a kiss. That put Dionysus off his bearing far more than the bleeding head ever could. Of all the things he could think of at this moment, he was reminded of vampire bats. Why?
Because he was having ichor fed into his mouth via the sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. He didn’t find it accurate to call it French kissing, that had at least some decorum. This was all tongues and teeth and blood. Chiron shifted his grip to hold the back of Dionysus’s head, fingers tangling in his blood-soaked curls.
Now, leopards cannot purr. So logically speaking, Dionysus should not be able to do that. However, over the years Dionysus has found himself connecting to a manner of other large cats. Plus, he’s a god. He can purr if he damn well wants to.
Chiron chuckled pulled back to look down at Dionysus with a crazed grin. “You look…divine.” He said, smirking at his stupid little pun. Dionysus refused to give Chiron the satisfaction of a laugh. He was also entirely out of breath, but that meant nothing. He also had no chance to make any noises, since Chiron went back in for another kiss.
This one was a bit slower, more methodical. Chiron kept his hand cupping the back of Dionysus’s head, holding him steady as the two men made out in the woods, each one bleeding on the other. Somehow, this got Dionysus’s heart pumping more than being chased down and roughed up. This was intentional, he couldn’t chalk this up to Chiron’s base instincts or the wine, he was patient. He was…well not gentle, but not rough either. It was obvious that Chiron had the capacity to be gentle through the way he was kissing, if that makes sense. It made sense to Dionysus, that’s all that matters.
Dionysus draped his arms around Chiron’s neck, pulling him closer. It was a bit clunky with Chiron’s anatomy, but being loomed over by such a large and imposing creature really added to the allure of it all. When Chiron pulled away he was panting softly, ichor staining his lips and sticking to his stubbly beard. It seems like the wine was starting to wear off, Chiron’s gaze was noticably less animalistic.
“You…I…” he panted, seeming to come to grips with what he’d just done. Chiron just stared down at the god, slightly slack-jawed. Dionyus did laugh at that, much funnier than Chiron’s stupid pun.
Dionysus leaned up to kiss him again, this time just a quick peck. “Heh, don’t even try that flustered old man act on me, hay-for-breath, I know you’re a freak.” He spat.
In return, Dionysus was slammed back onto the hard ground, it was no longer cold, having soaked up fresh blood and body heat. He grunted, getting air knocked out of his lungs as he chuckled. “Cmon Chiron~, don’t get all cold on me now, I thought we had something going~”
Chiron tried to keep his hard gaze, but wound up letting out a slight chuckle. “Oh you..” He sighed. There was something heavy in it. Something Chiron had bottled up for years. Dionysus knew how that felt. He made jokes about his teen crush, but it stopped being just a teen crush about 90 years ago, when he was sentenced to this stupid camp and was made co-workers with his former mentor. He’d spent the last 9 decade pining, and now he had exactly what he wanted. Chiron's tail flicked, the skin on his hind twitching. “Hm.. it’s cold out here. And we need to patch ourselves up.” Chiron pointed out, taking his hand off Dionysus’s head to cup his cheek and wipe some blood off his mouth. Dionysus couldn’t help but lean into the hand, calloused from centuries of work but still gentle.
“Gods- for once can’t you turn off your teacher brain? I mean- you can, you just did. Do it more often.” Dionysus huffed as he rolled his eyes. He felt the aforementioned cold as Chiron got off of him, struggling for a second due to his bad leg. He shifted his weight from one back leg to the other, trying to work the pain out of his hindquarters.
Dionysus hauled himself up to his feet, a little shaky from the bloodloss and adrenaline. He felt hands on his shoulder, keeping him steady. “There we go, nice and easy.” Chiron hummed, helping Dionysus re-gain his balance. Gods that got to him, all the blood flowed from Dionysus’s head down to his-
“C’mon, up you get.” Chiron said, picking Dionysus up by the underarms and putting the god on his back. Dionysus was shellshocked, not entirely processing what was happening until Chiron started walking back to camp. Not wanting to fall off, Dionysus wrapped his arms around Chiron’s waist and held on tight, pressing himself firmly against Chiron’s back. Chiron chuckled, reaching up to hold Dionysus’s hand. “I’ve got you, have I ever let you fall off?”
Dionysus had to admit that was true. In his demigod years, in the brief time he traveled with Chiron, he’d often fall asleep on the centaur’s back. At first he had been nervous, convinced if he did so he’d awaken in the dirt. But that never happened, partially due to Chiron’s careful pace but more so attested to the way Chiron held onto him. Back then Chiron simply held his arm, but now a more intimate gesture was called for.
Dionysus huffed, lightheartedly kicking Chiron’s side. “Whatever. Just let me relax, I think you ripped skin out of my shoulder.”
“Indeed I did. I believe I may have- ahem- swallowed it in my fever.” Chiron said, clearing his throat awkwardly. Fuck that was so hot.
Dionysus didn’t answer. he just put his head on Chiron’s back and let himself relax. The closeness helped combat the cold. Ichor and centaur blood dried on his skin and in his hair. He looked up at the sky, the moon and the stars. When had it gotten so dark? The moon was full tonight.
Dionysus had… sour opinions on the moon. Selene, the titaness personifying the moon, had a large hand in the death of his lover Ampelos. Oh Ampelos… Dionysus had quite the small list of lovers in comparison to his brothers, and he was certainly a prude compared to his father. Not counting his quick affairs, like his quick run with Aphrodite, he’d only had eyes for maybe 4 people. Althaia, a mortal queen he wooed with her husband’s consent. Ariadne, his glorious wife he’d burn cities down for. Ampelos, the most beautiful satyr he’d ever met, the tragedy that scorned him from most affairs for quite some time….
And Chiron. The centaur who’s back he was currently sat upon. After he lost Ampelos, Dionysus had shut his heart off from anyone except his beloved wife. Then he ran with a random nymph, and got stuck here at camp. So, if history truly repeats itself, Dionysus was destined to find suffering at the end of his time with Chiron. Dionysus felt as though that might be worth it.