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Most of the time when Tiresias visits his prophet in the underworld, Hermes would be speaking to one of the supposed heroes who come to him for whatever they may need. Today however, that wasn’t the case. Instead he was quiet, seemingly absorbed in his thoughts, something Tiresias had learned was usually not the best of signs.
He was hunched over and swishing at the river of souls that lay before him with his staff as Tiresias flew down. His pointed ears perked up at the sound of Tiresias’ feathers and he turned his head to the god.
“O-Oh, I wasn't expecting you today, dawling.” Hermes sputtered, proving this true by his tone.
“Even with all of your clairvoyant capabilities?” Tiresias asked, kissing Hermes’ hand so he may be more aware of his presence.
“Yes, even I, the blind prophet of Thebes, can be surprised from time to time.” Hermes scoffed.
“Well then all-seeing prophet, is there anything you’d like to get off your chest?” Tiresias said as he sat down next to the prophet and let him rest his head on his shoulder, folding his wing over Hermes, covering him like a large feathered blanket.
“Well, there is certainly one thing.” Hermes started, “I had a sort of epiphany”
“Go on,” Tiresias said, mildly terrified of what Hermes might say next.
“I have no idea what the hell you look like!” Hermes stood up looking in Tiresias’ general direction, and hitting his wing in the process. “And I think we should remedy that!” He smiled “If you’re okay with that of course.”
Tiresias smiled back, “Absolutely”
Hermes sat back down and Tiresias guided his hand to his cheek.
“I would appreciate it if you could be careful beneath my eyes, my pigeon, I have an extra pair of them there.” Tiresias whispered.
“You do?” Hermes asked, his ears perking up in confusion.
“Yes,” Tiresias replied.
“What else have you been hiding from me, dawling?” Hermes asked tracing down the bridge of the gods nose.
“Well,” Tiresias began “As is relatively obvious, I have a pair of wings on my back, but I also have a pair on the sides of my head that replace my ears.” He led his lover's hands to his ear-wings, twitching as Hermes brushed against him. “Contrary to what most think, I don't actually have any wings on my feet, those are just the sandals.”
“Mmm,” Hermes cooed in acknowledgement, running his hand down Tiresias’ neck to a patch of feathers.
“What’s this?” He asked, lightly flitting the feathers up and down, causing an oddly annoying sensation that ran through Tiresias’ entire body.
“Ah, I was just getting to that,” Tiresias said, righting his now puffed up feathers. “I also have patches of feathers all over my body, an-” Tiresias shuddered against his will. Hermes had flicked the feathers in just the right (or wrong) way. The feeling it caused wasn’t painful by any stretch, but it wasn’t pleasurable either, it was just infuriating.
“Please… don’t do that” Tiresias huffed in annoyance.
Hermes smiled deviously.
“What dawling, this?” Hermes flicked the patch of fluff once again, causing every feather on his body to go up, and causing Tiresias himself to jump upwards back into the air.
“Yes, that!” Tiresias snapped.
Hermes let out that stupid, annoying, maddeningly endearing, laugh of his.
“I’m sorry dawling you left me no choice, I had to” Hermes smirked.
“Mmhm, ‘no choice’.” Tiresias mimicked, planting his feet back to the ground, standing close to Hermes, but not close enough for him to reach his feathers.
“You are impossible sometimes, I hope you know that, prophet.” Tiresias said as he cupped Hermes’ face in his hand and gave him a small peck on the cheek.
“Oh I absolutely do, Devine Tiresias” Hermes purred, reciprocating Tiresias’ advances.