Don't Read in the Closet volume one Read online

  The god threw back his head and laughed aloud at something one of his companions said and Dashiel felt a tight heat flare to life deep in his gut. It raced to his cock, which in turn began to stir and ache. The unknown godling was—

  “You mean Achan?” Korey asked, finally scanning the new recruits below.

  “Achan?”

  “Yeah. You know, Gareth’s little brother.”

  “No way!” Dashiel’s jaw literally did drop open this time before he managed to catch himself and school his features into something a little less smacked-in-the-back-of-the-head-with-a-blunt-object.

  “Yeah! Kind of cute now he’s all grown up, huh? I can’t believe you haven’t noticed before.”

  “I’ve been… busy,” Dashiel said, too preoccupied with drinking the other god—Achan—in to pay much attention to Korey’s needling.

  Korey snorted. “You’ve been in a coma.”

  Dashiel could only nod dumbly.

  Of course he remembered Achan. And the little godling had always been cute, but in a kid brother kind of way. Growing up, Achan had been the sweet, rather shy sidekick—forever tagging along as Dashiel and Gareth got up to mischief. But those days were long, long gone. And this Achan was anything but kid brother cute. He was—

  Trumpets sounded all around the amphitheatre, announcing the beginning of the ceremony. Ruling gods and goddesses of all the houses, with Mercury’s leader heading the procession filed into the space. But the pomp and ceremony passed in a blur for Dashiel as he remained spellbound, watching Achan’s every move.

  Finally, the moment arrived for the blessing and each of the newly-made Mercury Heralds received their gifts—tiny wings sprouting from their heels and the buzz of divine energy granting them their legendary speed. Then their leader—a rather pompous little man with thin lips and sharp features—stepped forward to retrieve the Chalice of Eternal Ambrosia and finalise the deification process. But, as he opened the doors to its sanctuary above the altar, it became obvious that something was horribly wrong.

  The Chalice had vanished.

  Gasps of disbelief and fear filled the space, bouncing off the marble and rippling out to fill every corner of The Pantheon. Without the life and power of Ambrosia they would all slowly fade from existence—starved of their immortal essence.

  But before panic could truly take hold, Achan appeared in a blinding flash of light—newly granted wings on his heels fluttering wildly as he hovered above the crowd of new Mercury Heralds holding the Chalice aloft. Laughing as the gasps of horror turned to amazement and awe, Achan flew over his brethren, sprinkling them liberally with Ambrosia. The liquid rained down over them in a golden storm—anointing them all in a shower of eternal life and divine power.

  Finally, regal as any of the gods and goddesses that had ever assembled in the Divine Amphitheatre, Achan returned the Chalice to its rightful place in the Sanctuary and bowed before the leaders as if he’d just preformed a great service at their behest.

  As the crowd continued to exclaim and chatter, Dashiel stared at the now glowing Achan. He was covered from head to toe in the golden radiance of Ambrosia. But it was more the expression of triumph on his beautiful face that truly made Achan shine. He was captivating—a golden being of light and joy.

  Then Achan turned his head and looked straight at Dashiel. The smile on the younger god’s face made Dashiel’s heart flip flop wildly in his chest. Their eyes seemed to meet and hold for an eternity across the distance—drawing Dashiel in with every drumming beat of his heart. But the moment was shattered when the newly anointed Mercuries swarmed in to hoist Achan high above their heads.

  Dashiel continued to follow Achan as he was carried out of the arena like a conquering hero—he simply couldn’t tear his eyes away.

  “Where is the graduation party being held?” Dashiel finally managed, watching his new, laughing obsession being taken away.

  “Bacchus’, of course,” Korey replied.

  Not even that could deter him. Dashiel had to follow. He needed to meet this new Achan. Needed to know the god that had him completely enthralled.

  ****

  Dashiel scanned the room, unsurprised to find the party in full swing by the time they reached Bacchus’ Den. While the formal deification ceremony had finished less than twenty minutes ago, many had obviously started celebrating long before the formal proceedings had started.

  All around the room, gods and goddesses, monsters and creatures of legend engaged in excess. Sex, drugs, alcohol—all were freely available at every turn. And it appeared to have been going on for quite some time judging by the state of many of the revellers.

  Dashiel let his gaze roam around the room—not focusing on anyone or anything in particular, but looking for one being specifically. One head of sparkling blue/black spikes. One set of dark, mischievous eyes. It wasn’t easy.

  It was always the same at Bacchus’ Den. The music was a vital, living thing—its pulse the constant throbbing beat of the drum base, its breath the ebb and flow of the melody. The dim lighting and ever present, theatrical wisps of smoke created the kind of atmosphere that encouraged a sensual slide into debauchery. And the heavy scent of lust and pleasure teased and tempted. Dashiel had to fight hard to maintain focus.

  Korey, on the other hand, apparently set no such restrictions on himself. “Oh my! Sorry to love you and leave you, honey, but I see a little something I just have to try.”

  Dashiel didn’t look to see what Korey had spotted as he hurried away. Knowing his friend, he’d probably have to swab his eyes out with bleach afterwards if he did. He was pretty sure Korey had tried everything—and he did mean everything—at least once. Usually a lot more than once.

  He let him go and concentrated on why he was here. Starting his hunt at the entrance, he systematically moved through the room towards the bar. But it soon became apparent that Achan wasn’t with the other Mercuries rapidly trying to catch up to their drunken friends and cohorts. Frowning, Dashiel wandered about the sea of tables and party-goers randomly, hoping he might have missed the god in passing somewhere along the line. But as hard as he searched, he couldn’t spot his elusive quarry.

  Having seen Achan in the amphitheatre—the way he shone with life and energy—Dashiel didn’t think it possible the other god could have resisted the celebration. But perhaps he was wrong. It had been so long since he’d known the younger god, he didn’t really know him at all. And yet he wanted to. Something about Achan called to him. If he was honest with himself, he’d have to admit he’d always enjoyed Achan’s company. It just held a very different appeal now. One that wasn’t so innocent.

  Fortunately, just when Dashiel was starting to lose all hope of finding and exploring his new fascination with his childhood friend, his eyes zeroed in on his target.

  Really, now that he thought about it, he should have known to start at the dance floor. Achan had never been one to stay still for long. He’d always loved to move. And now, beneath the random spray of coloured lights that repeatedly bombarded and illuminated the writhing bodies, Achan seemed lost in the pleasure of dance.

  The sensual grace and fluid slide of his body made Dashiel’s cock hard, but the enthusiasm and abandon displayed in every movement called to something deeper. He wanted to taste the passion from Achan’s skin. He longed to nudge against the simple joyfulness he saw in the other god until it wrapped around his own flagging lust for life and revived it to once again come out and play.

  As if aware of Dashiel’s gaze, Achan turned to stare at him as he continued to dance. A wicked smile curled the corners of his lips in the most carnal of invitation, but the light Dashiel saw in the other god’s eyes was surprisingly unguarded and artless—a simple delight and guileless greeting. It was an appealing mix of seductive tease and pure, eager welcome that beckoned Dashiel like nothing else had in centuries.

  Stunned, Dashiel realised Achan was beautiful in the most unique and unexpected of ways. So used to the classic good looks and sop
histicated wiles of The Pantheon he was all but immune to them, Achan’s beauty was in the inner light of joy and enthusiasm. It was in the love of existence Dashiel detected in every smile and energetic sensual move of his body.

  With Achan’s eyes fixed on him, Dashiel found it impossible to look away. He could only continue to stare. Somehow, despite the crowd, the heated look they shared made it feel almost private—just the two of them and a seductive dance.

  When the music finally changed, Achan quit the dance floor and sauntered towards Dashiel.

  “Hello, Dashiel,” Achan said as he stopped in front of him.

  “Achan.” Dashiel was thrilled to see Achan’s grin get wider as he greeted him by name. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “Definitely. It’s been a long time.”

  “It certainly has.” Dashiel let his eyes linger over Achan and was surprised when the other god didn’t move or blush. So much had changed about the shy, retiring little godling he’d once known. “I didn’t realize how far along in your training you were.”

  “Mmm… time flies when you’re having fun, I guess.”

  Dashiel frowned. Was that a hint of censure in Achan’s voice? But the thought fled as Achan reached out to tuck his arm through Dashiel’s. The feeling of the warm, sexy body pressed up against his own sent all sorts of sensations—most of them red hot and needy—coursing through him. And yet, at the same time he felt an unfamiliar uncertainty. It was difficult to reconcile the godling he had known with the fully-fledged god beside him.

  “You look like a man who wants to buy me a drink,” Achan said, leading him towards the bar.

  Dashiel blinked—far more used to being the leader rather than the led in this sort of situation. “Wow. That’s a pretty cocky line.”

  Achan shrugged, but there might have been the slightest hint of colour covering his high cheekbones. “What can I say, I like cocky. It seems to really work for me these days.”

  Dashiel gazed down at the godling he’d known as a quiet, starry-eyed youngster in surprise and received a cheeky grin in response.

  Nudging their way through the crowd, they finally made it to the bar. Dashiel managed to get their drinks and escape the mayhem without too much hassle. Although, having Achan pressed close against his side was distracting. Not necessarily unwelcome, just… diverting. They’d ended up with a Long Hot Screw and a Slow Blow Job at Achan’s rather provocative insistence.

  Finally seated at one of the tall tables scattered around the room, Dashiel took a sip of his drink—eyeing Achan as he tried to work the other god out. “That was a nice stunt, by the way. At the ceremony, I mean.”

  “Thank you.” Achan’s mischievous smile inspired a stab of desire deep in Dashiel’s gut… and had some pretty interesting reactions lower down as well.

  “I’m rather surprised to see you here, actually. I thought they’d have you chained to the rock for sure by now.”

  At the comment, Achan’s smile became a little strained, his complexion a little paler. But he still managed to shrug nonchalantly enough. “Hey, I’m a Mercury. Theft and mischief are part of my portfolio now. I thought I’d start things off with a bang.”

  “Well, you certainly got everyone’s attention, that’s for sure.”

  “Mmm… well, getting a little attention is nice, don’t you think?”

  Achan’s eyes fixed on him, the teasing light well and truly back in full force now.

  Dashiel cleared his throat and took another sip of his drink. “So, what have you been up to anyway?”

  “Oh, lots of things. But I never kiss and tell.” Achan raised his glass, drawing attention to his full, soft lips currently curled up in a little smile.

  When had Achan become such a tease? And why did Dashiel find it so appealing?

  “What about you?” Achan asked, placing his glass back on the table and running the tip of one long finger around the edge. “Still inspiring love and breaking hearts?”

  Dashiel wasn’t sure he’d quite put it like that, but both were covered under his mandate. “It’s all part of the job.”

  “Such dedication to duty.”

  Before Dashiel could say anything in reply, the music shifted to something slower, a break from the vigorous rhythms that had been pounding out since Dashiel entered The Den.

  “Oh! I love this one,” Achan moaned as he began to sway with the beat. “Dance with me?”

  Dancing was the last thing on Dashiel’s mind after the little moan that had slipped from Achan’s lips and the sensual sway. But he stood, ready to accept the offer in a heartbeat. Although, it was somewhat hard on his cock—which had stiffened and caught at an uncomfortable angle in his tight leather pants.

  With a little laugh—as if he knew exactly what he was doing to Dashiel—Achan took his hand and hurried them onto the dance floor. And soon, he had an armful of warm, sensual god to distract him as they began to move together.

  Achan seemed intent on driving him insane as he continued to rub and slide their bodies together. Then, as if not content with just that level of torment, Achan lay his head down against Dashiel’s chest in an intimate gesture that stole Dashiel’s heart completely. Looking down at the spikes of dark hair, seeing the dark crescents of Achan’s lashes flutter closed and sensing what felt suspiciously like a contented sigh against him—it was too much to take. The ache too intense.

  “Come home with me.”

  “Mmm…” he felt more than heard Achan murmur as he snuggled a little closer. “Wish I could, but I have an early start tomorrow.”

  With a little squeeze as if to soften the rejection, Achan stepped away as the song came to an end.

  “Where do you live? When can I see you again?”

  With a little chuckle, Achan backed away another step, until he was just out of reach. “Oh I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again soon.”

  And with that, Achan was gone—disappearing with all the preternatural speed of his new godhood and a laugh that shot straight through Dashiel like quicksilver.

  ****

  Dashiel tried to concentrate on the job at hand, but it just wasn’t happening. He’d spent hours waiting for the next two mortals on his hit list to be in the right position. But the two stubborn men just weren’t cooperating. It was almost as if they knew they were being targeted and were actively trying to thwart him.

  And all the while, Dashiel felt tight and distracted, wondering when he’d get the chance to see Achan again.

  Finally, thank The Pantheon for small mercies, one of the soon-to-be-lovers missed his bus and hurried into the same coffee shop as his unsuspecting would-be-suitor to keep warm and dry until the next scheduled service.

  Dashiel saw his chance. Drawing his bow with a fluid grace born of centuries of practice, he inhaled, took aim and—

  “Hello, Dashiel.”

  The arrow slipped from his grasp and shot forward with a sickening high-pitched whistle, hitting the target right in the heart. Dashiel suppressed a wince—the poor sucker was going to fall so hard. But at least he’d struck the right mark. Things could have gone all sorts of interesting if he’d got the wrong guy. Or—Godshome forbid—hit the girl standing beside him.

  Dashiel spun around. “Achan! What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, you remember me. How sweet.” Achan smirked, and oddly, Dashiel found himself about to make excuses

  for not having kept in contact over the years—something he’d never found himself doing before. But Achan waved it away nonchalantly. “I’m only teasing. Don’t look so panicky.”

  “I wasn’t panicking.”

  “If you say so.” Achan took a long, slow lick of the sweet-ice in his hand—a slender cylindrical treat that was proving increasingly popular with the younger crowd.

  Dashiel followed Achan’s tongue, now stained a vivid pink with food colouring—thoroughly mesmerised.

  “It’s hot out today, huh?” Achan asked, cheeky grin firmly in place. “You want some?”
<
br />   Dashiel felt himself blush to the roots of his hair at having been caught staring. He shook his head, not quite trusting his voice—sure he’d embarrass himself even more with a husky rasp. Or worst still a moan.

  “So what ya doing?” Achan asked, still licking at his sweet-ice.

  “Working.”

  Achan sighed. “So it’s true.”

  “What?”

  “A love god’s work is never done.” Achan was laughing at him—he could see it in the sparkle of mischief in those dark blue eyes.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Oh, I’m hurt!” Achan mocked with a pout—crunching down on the tip of the sweet-ice and making Dashiel cringe involuntarily. “I thought you wanted to see me again.”

  “That’s not—”

  “As it happens, I was sent to deliver a message. You’re my first customer… so to speak.”

  Waving the last of his sweet-ice out of existence with a casual flick of his wrist, Achan produced a thin scroll from his belt and handed it across. Dashiel didn’t fail to notice the way Achan made sure their fingers brushed against one another in passing. In fact, it was impossible to ignore as the contact sent shivers of delight racing up his arm and across his entire body.

  Trying to distract himself from the sensation, Dashiel broke the seal and rapidly scanned the note.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. How the Tartarus am I supposed to get those two in the same room together, never mind lined up to fall in love?”

  “Bad assignment?” Achan asked, sounding genuinely sympathetic.

  “You could say that. Last I saw these two hated each other. To the point of sending trained assassins.”

  Achan winced, but then did something completely shocking. He raised himself up on his tip-toes and brushed a quick kiss to Dashiel’s cheek. “You’ll do it. I know you will.”

  Dashiel sucked in a shocked breath, only to find Achan smelt divine—a combination of sweet from the sweet-ice and spicy from something that was simply Achan. As he pulled away, their eyes met and held—making it feel like they were the only two immortals in Godshome. But just as Dashiel went to move in and bring their lips together for a proper kiss, Achan stepped back—blushing furiously.