Chapter Text
June arrived with all the subtlety of Peter Hale announcing a surprise. Which was to say, there was none.
Noah woke to the sound of fabric bags being dropped dramatically onto the foot of the bed.
"Rise and shine, my beautiful mortals!" Peter declared. "Your gods have arrived."
Chris didn't even open his eyes. "...It's six-thirty."
"It is Pride," Peter replied, as though that explained everything. "Time is meaningless."
Noah cracked one eye open just in time to see Peter sweep into the bedroom wearing a black silk robe embroidered with tiny gold pomegranates.
"...Should I be worried?"
"Always."
Peter untied the robe with theatrical flourish, not to reveal anything scandalous (for once), but an immaculate black tunic trimmed in gold, fitted leather bracers, and a crown of dark laurel leaves.
He spread his arms. "Hades."
Chris finally sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. "You've been planning this for a year."
"I've been planning this," Peter corrected, "for eleven months, three weeks, and four days."
Noah snorted. "I knew it."
Peter ignored him and tossed a garment bag onto Noah's lap. "Hermes."
Another landed squarely on Chris's chest. "And after considerable debate..."
Chris eyed it suspiciously. "...Ares?"
Peter clasped his hands together. "You chose chest."
Chris slowly looked up. "I what?"
"You complained that Zeus required too much jewelry."
"I said he looked uncomfortable."
"So Ares it is."
Chris sighed the sigh of a man who had long ago accepted that resistance merely delayed the inevitable. "...How much chest?"
Peter smiled. "Enough."
Twenty minutes later, Noah stepped out first. Peter's grin softened instantly. Hermes suited him almost unfairly well.
A sleeveless white tunic was belted at the waist with brown leather, exposing his toned arms. Gold accents caught the morning light, while leather sandals climbed halfway to his calves. Around his shoulders rested a short traveler-style cloak fastened with a wing-shaped clasp. The finishing touch was a pair of small bronze wings attached just behind his ears.
Noah looked down at himself. "I actually..." He smiled. "...kind of like this."
Peter walked over, adjusting one crooked wing with surprising tenderness. "You were born to wear them."
Noah bumped their foreheads together. "You're such a sap."
"I'm an underworld deity."
"You can be both."
Chris emerged last. The room became very, very quiet. His costume was deliberately simpler than Peter's.
Dark leather skirt armor over fitted black trousers. Bronze bracers. Sandals. A crimson cloak fastened over one shoulder. The sleeveless cuirass left the upper portion of his chest uncovered, not ridiculous, just enough to suggest rather than display.
Peter blinked. Noah whistled. Chris looked distinctly uncomfortable. "...Well?"
Peter recovered first. He walked one slow circle around Chris. "Oh, that's unfair."
Chris frowned. "What?"
"You look exactly like every historical romance cover ever printed."
Noah nodded immediately. "He's right."
Chris looked between them. "I do not."
Peter reached out, straightened one shoulder clasp, then stepped back with obvious satisfaction. "You absolutely do."
Noah folded his arms. "I'd let you lead an army."
Chris looked horrified. "I was a hunter."
"Same transferable skills."
Peter nodded solemnly. "Excellent battlefield communication."
Peter completed his own outfit last.
His black chiton flowed almost to his boots, embroidered with subtle silver vines. Gold armor wrapped one shoulder while obsidian jewelry caught the light every time he moved.
His crown wasn't flashy. Dark branches curled around his hair, woven with tiny black gemstones. He looked elegant. Entirely too pleased with himself.
Noah looked him over. "...Okay."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"
"You actually look..." Noah searched for the word. "...regal."
Peter placed a hand dramatically over his heart. "I've waited years to hear that."
Chris smirked. "I was going to say intimidating."
"I'll also accept intimidating."
The festival gates came into view just before noon. Like last year, people noticed them almost immediately.
"Oh my God!"
"Greek gods!"
"HADES!"
Someone yelled from halfway across the plaza. "Cute Hermes!"
Noah laughed, pointing at himself. "I've never been called 'cute Hermes' before."
Peter leaned over. "Get used to it."
Another festivalgoer hurried over. "Can we get a picture? You three look incredible."
Peter didn't even pretend to hesitate. "But of course."
The three of them posed instinctively. Peter standing tall in the center. Noah leaning comfortably against his shoulder. Chris trying to look dignified despite Peter subtly pulling him closer by the belt.
Flash.
Another.
Then another.
Within minutes, they had become unofficial photo attractions.
Lydia found them first. She stopped dead in the middle of the pathway. "Oh..."
She slowly looked each of them up and down. "...you committed."
Peter bowed. "As always."
She circled Chris once. "Ares."
Chris nodded. "So I've been informed."
She circled Noah. "Hermes."
Noah gave a little shrug. "I deliver emotional support instead of messages."
"And..." She stopped in front of Peter. "...Hades."
Peter smiled lazily. "The family resemblance helps."
Lydia laughed. "I hate how perfect this is."
Jordan joined them carrying iced coffees.
He nearly dropped one. "...Wow."
Peter took a drink without asking. "Thank you."
"I wasn't offering—"
"You are now."
Jordan rolled his eyes before looking toward Chris.
"You know..." He gestured vaguely. "...that actually works."
Chris looked down at the armor. "I expected this to be embarrassing."
"It is." Peter answered cheerfully. "But aesthetically."
Stiles and Derek appeared shortly afterward.
Stiles took one look at them and burst into laughter. "No."
Peter looked offended. "No?"
"No." Stiles pointed dramatically. "You three look like someone gave Disney an R rating."
Peter considered that. "I'll take it."
Derek looked Peter over. "...Hades fits."
Peter smirked. "I know."
Stiles pointed at Noah's winged sandals. "You've been making airplane noises, haven't you?"
Noah tried very hard not to smile."...Once."
Peter coughed loudly. "Four times."
"It was funny."
"It was."
As they wandered deeper into the festival, Peter noticed something.
Last year people had admired the costumes.
This year... People recognized them.
"Weren't you guys the Village People trio?"
"Oh my God, it's Cowboy, Biker, and Cop!"
"You came back!"
Peter stopped walking. His expression softened. "They remembered."
Noah smiled. "They remembered us."
Chris looked around as several people waved. "...Apparently."
One young couple hurried over. "We saw you last year!"
Peter's eyebrows shot up. "You did?"
"You were dancing with that drag queen dressed like Lady Liberty."
Noah laughed.
"And Peter kept giving fake phone numbers."
Peter looked scandalized. "I gave creative phone numbers."
Chris deadpanned, "One of them was 867-5309."
"It still works."
As the afternoon drifted toward evening, the three of them found themselves once again sitting on the grass overlooking the parade route.
Different costumes. Different year. Same people.
Peter rested against Chris while Noah stretched out beside them, lazily tracing circles in the grass.
"Well?" Peter asked.
Chris looked out over the sea of rainbow flags. "...I think I finally understand."
Peter looked up.
"What?"
"Why you wanted us here."
Peter stayed quiet. Chris continued. "It isn't about dressing up or making a statement, it's about belonging."
Peter's usual sarcastic response never came. Instead, he simply reached for both of their hands."Exactly."
Noah squeezed his fingers. "And next year?"
Peter's eyes immediately lit with dangerous enthusiasm. Chris groaned on instinct. Peter pointed dramatically toward the horizon.
"Arthurian legends."
"No."
"Knights."
"No."
"Merlin."
"No."
"Dragon tamers."
"No."
Peter looked thoughtfully at the sky. "...Pirates?"
Chris sighed. "...I'm beginning to understand why Hades ruled the underworld."
Peter grinned. "Because he had excellent taste?"
"Because nobody else wanted the paperwork."
Noah laughed so hard he nearly fell over. Peter looked genuinely impressed.
"That," he admitted, "was a good one."
Chris smiled, a real, easy smile.
And as Pride carried on around them, Peter decided there were few things he loved more than controlled chaos. Except, perhaps, the two men beside him.
Those, he thought, were the best masterpiece he'd ever stumbled into.