CANNABISTRO → THE BALL
All the drugs in the world couldn’t compare to this high. It rushed through him like the unstoppable crackle of electricity, lighting his skin ablaze. His body felt as light as the clouds he had once floated above; when freedom was a gift he had clutched firmly in his hands and one he had valued only once it had been taken away. Yet, there had still been little, even as an Olympian, that could ever compare to this rush. The endless hours, the graft and toil, the risk and subsequent bounty. Had he known that cons would be so deliriously decadent, he would’ve started doing them centuries ago.
Short cons gave instant gratification but long cons were where he felt his true self. There were few things in this world that came close to the thrill of the game. The grecian adored mortal sins as much as the next man, but they still fell short to a god whose life had been spent ever testing the boundaries of others. He always required something more, something different. But as he strolled down the street, hands tucked in his pockets, shooting a cocky smile at everyone he passed, Hermes had to admit to himself that maybe there was
one thing that could trump this feeling. Or perhaps one deity would be more accurate.
Finally reaching Cannabistro, the ever fleet of foot messenger god wasted no time before he was bounding up the stairs, taking two steps at a time as impatience pulled his body forwards. He couldn’t tell why he was so eager. Maybe it was just the desire to share his accomplishment or maybe it was something more. Hermes was never one to linger on these thoughts for too long though, instead focusing on immersing himself in the delicious feelings that arose from them.
Stopping at the front door, fingers came to press against his crisp white suit, smoothing down the wrinkles that had gathered. Anticipation pulled at Hermes’ lips, a small smile lighting up his already animated features. Nerves were a foreign feeling to him but the energy that rushed through him was probably as close as the herald ever came to such a thing, though he would be at a loss to explain it if he tried to. Raising a hand, his knuckles rapped firmly on the door, Hermes forcing himself to keep still as he waited for it to open.
Only the eager raps against his door could pull Jorm from his thoughts, gently pulling him from the stars he found himself in. This felt like years in the making, yet felt so natural like Hermes slotted himself right next to him. There was understanding in the puzzle piece analogy, but it never really fully came together outside of the bubble of experience he now found himself in. Hermes was there one second and then his the next and it brought him close to a searing sun without the scorch of heat against his skin. He wanted to bask in it.
But Hermes awaited him and the serpent sprang to his feet with all the giddiness trapped inside pistoning him forward. Wind swept him away, hair neatly pressed, eyes widened and his lips bit down upon as he pressed his hands against his suit and reached for the door to his apartment. First to light his vision was Hermes and Jormungandr drank in the glow that set upon Hermes’ shoulders. Lightning lit his eyes and coursed from Hermes’ skin to his until Jormungandr drank the sight of his newly found lover in.
”Oh… hey, wait a second,” Jormungandr’s brow pinched in question at the suit wrapped perfectly around Hermes’ lithe frame. The first thought was ‘damn’ followed quickly by a wandering mind so prone to daydreams of tangled arms lost in the desert of sheets, but that quickly faded to bewildered surprise. Jormungandr looked down to his own suit, perfectly matched to fit Hermes in some serendipitous display set by the universe that had ordained their meat.
”Well, uh, you’re always a present surprise, but this is certainly something else, Jormungandr said with a wry grin twisting his lips.
There left no chance for Hermes to respond in kind as Jormungandr immediately grasped the god’s hand and pulled him into the entryway. He pressed Hermes close to him, both arms coming to wrap around the messenger god’s waist as he leaned in close.
”Did you somehow arrange for this to happen, Noodle?” Jormungandr whispered as he touched his nose to Hermes’ cheek,
”Just to get me flustered, huh? Cause it’s working.”Allowing himself to be pulled into Jormungandr's arms, Hermes pressed his body against his, relishing in the warmth that burned like a constant flame between them. The edge of his lips pulled into a small smirk at the norse gods words and feigning ignorance, he shook his head lightly.
“Me? Do something like that? Of course not…” He trailed off, tongue dipping out to unconsciously wet his lips.
“But tell me again about how you’re getting flustered.” His hands came up to freely roam over Jorms chest, tracing over the fabric and taking note of the feel. The sight of his lover sent a new, entirely different thrum of energy speeding through his body and he had no qualms in openly admiring how damn perfect he looked in his attire. Of course, seeing him wrapped in naught but a bedsheet was what he would normally say he preferred, but this was equally, if not more, pleasurable.
“Maybe we should have a little bit of fun before the ball.” He muttered, lips moving to press against Jorms whilst his hands reached up to deftly undo the first two buttons of his shirt. Hermes was excited for the ball but he would gladly be unfashionably late, or even miss it completely, for the chance to spend another moment alone with him.
A hand reached to grasp at Hermes’ and Jormungandr used that moment to lace their fingers together. A chuckle rumbled his chest, reminiscent of the rolling waves of the oceans he toiled through or the muffled thunder of a storm broken by the surface of the water.
”None of that now,” Jormungandr spoke, pulling Hermes close again to let his lips slide soft against the Grecian’s,
”We’ve done enough of the sexy bit; it’s time I show you what I know of romance, now. I wanna make sure you end this night knowing full well how much I adore you, Hermy.”His hands break a part to glide against the smooth fabric of Hermes’ suit until one reaches up to grasp at Hermes’ chin. Jormungandr tilts Hermes’ head up and allows himself to stare with the moon so clear in his own eyes, beheld by the man of his goddamned dreams. A sigh left him in a flitting breeze before he dipped low to capture Hermes’ lips in such soft, satin touches.
”I know you don’t mind being late, but I kinda wanna have fun at the ball tonight,” Jormungandr grinned, tilting his head to the side slightly as he once again pulled Hermes close to him. The title Hermes wore as conman and troublemaker excited Jormungandr and damned if he didn’t want a taste of what Hermes’ loved to do. It pumped an adrenaline into him that settled in his chest, bumping to the mixture of feelings the god in his arms drew out of him.
”Whaddya say? Wanna get into a little trouble, Herm?”Any protests that Hermes may have had were swallowed down at the mention of mischief, eyebrows raising at this alluring prospect.
“Always.” He grinned back, leaning in so that he could place a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth.
“Are you sure you’re ready though? Sometimes people don’t like my games.” A hand reached up to idly play with the edge of the gods bowtie as he spoke, a glint of something unreadable playing in his eyes. It was true that tricksters weren’t always well received by both gods & mortals alike, and although this usually wouldn’t bother him, something deep down in his chest spoke up about fears of scaring Jorm off. The man was so honest, so good, and Hermes couldn’t see how he would enjoy such trickery.
A subtle shake of his head warded off these concerns though and he was back to donning his usual lopsided smile, making up his own mind before Jorm had a chance to respond.
“Okay, we can play. But only if I get you to myself later...” He murmured pointedly,
“And only if you tell me again about how much you adore me.” Hermes teased, bright blue pools locking onto Jorms own darker eyes, fingers moving to grasp the serpents in his own once more.
A soft expression played at the hard features that sculpted Jorm’s face at the sight of his trickster god’s own doubt. He felt Hermes reel away inside himself just slightly, at least from the odd look that swept the deity’s features. It tugged at something inside Jormungandr that growled below the sinew and bone of his chest. The grip he had against Hermes’ sides tightened and when he grasped at Jorm’s hands to twine their fingers like they were the very fabric of the space between them come together Jorm tugged him forward.
”Everything you do, everything you say, everything you are, Hermes, I adore,” Jormungandr leaned forward, forehead pressed to Hermes’ and their noses brushed together as the air swirled in the space between their lips,
”There’s nothing that could make me think otherwise. I want to be a part of your life and that includes the things you allow me to do with you. Your games, your job, your family. Whatever you desire me to take part in, I will. Likewise for you.”Their hands fell apart so that Jorm could once again wrap his arms tight around Hermes’ waist and bring him in close. His grip felt tight, an assurance that Hermes would not fall from them, and Jormungandr let his breath mingle with Hermes’ as he pressed soft kiss after soft kiss to his lover’s lips.
”We’ll have the rest of the night, I promise.” He grinned, bringing a finger up to grasp at Hermes’ chin, though the smile dropped away to a hardened seriousness,
”I love every part of you, Hermes. I love the games you play and the trouble you make.”The heralds chest moved in and out as he silently listened, basking in the light breaths and gentle kisses that were shared between words. Mentions of love and life stole the very air from within his lungs, in a way that only Jorm could. It gnawed at something inside, speaking to something that he thought was only possible for others but not him. His tongue was normally able to twist words to his desire, his command over language something he had always prized. To make someone hear what they wanted to hear, or think what he wanted them to think. But now he daren’t speak, for fear that his words would fall short compared to Jorms own sweet ones.
Instead, his hands came up to cup the gods face, pulling him down so that he could deliver a deep kiss. Lips pressed hard and desperately against his, and the god did not pull away until he was ready.
“You are too good Jormungandr.” His words were breathy when he finally spoke.
“Too good for someone like me.” A thumb rubbed against his cheek as he took another moment to relish in their closeness. He wanted all of what Jorm had said. Everything.
“Though if after tonight you still want me, you can have it all.” He said, smiling gently. Hermes had long kept parts of himself from the other gods but he wanted Jorm to know and see it all.
”I’m not too good for anyone, Hermes,” Jormungandr pressed another kiss to Hermes’, this time upon his forehead,
”We all deserve a little more than we allow ourselves to, I think. And, I dunno, but from my perspective up here, I think you deserve the world, Herm.” But with that, he allowed Hermes to guide him out without any fuss or protest.
If Hermes truly thought lesser of himself, then Jormungandr had a lot of work showing him otherwise. The world, Odin, the entire Norse pantheon, all told him what he couldn’t have with little words and lofty actions from the thrones they sat upon. Too long upon the earth had he spent thinking all he deserved were the depths of the ocean; not a soul he would let think of themselves in such a manner if Jormungandr could help it. That rang especially true for those closest to him: his brother, his nephews, his sister, his father, and since the day he and Hermes became friends and more than friends, him too.
Jormungandr wrapped a tight hand around Hermes’ own and led him down to the slightly beat up car he’d gotten. If Hermes’ had another idea, then he was very much welcome to speak up because it wouldn’t do well to roll up to a venue in such nice suits only to step out of a 2005 Honda Civic that could either be a dirty black or a dirty dark blue depending on the lighting.
”Please feel free to reveal that you brought a rented Rolls Royce just around the corner,” Jormungandr flashed a smirk down at Hermes,
”Though, anywhere I go with this noodle in my arms, I’m sure would make even the most run down car fancy.” A cocky smile passed over the messenger gods face as he glanced at the Honda, eyes twinkling mischievously.
“Well...” He started, pulling on Jorms hand to lead them a short ways down the street.
“Rented is one way of putting it.” Letting their fingers untwine, the herald reached into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys and pointing them at a
car that looked assuredly out of place amongst the dreary normality of the Seattle street. Borrowed was probably a more accurate way to describe how he had acquired this particular Aston Martin but even that was pushing at the limits of the truth.
Grinning excitedly at Jorm, any previous doubts that had marred his usually confident guise were swept away, now left by only an eagerness akin to a child who had just received a new toy.
“She’s a beauty right? Purrs real deep too.” His voice was as smooth as the engine he described and the god gave Jorm a small wink before darting over to the drivers side.
“Hop in.” He offered as he slid into his seat, nodding to the free space beside him.
Hermes really had little practical use for a car, having retained enough of his light and sure footedness to be able to get around quickly under his own steam. But he was unable to deny the thrill that came with driving something so powerful. It put his mind back to those cherished moments he had spent in the sky, darting from realm to realm with nothing but his own will to stop him. And when he’d seen this pretty gal, well...the temptation to take her for himself had been just
too irresistible.
This had been quite a better surprise than the chariot that would slowly and unreliably tug them along. Jorm grinned, wondering at the exact measure to which Hermes’ took to get something of this magnitude into his own hands. Honestly, Jormungandr didn’t quite want to know or rather didn’t let himself ask despite the curiosity that tugged and pulled at him. It fascinated him to the lengths Hermes could soar to achieve these things that seemed so far from Jormungandr’s grasp—whether by legal means or no. As long as no one came away mortally injured, especially Hermes.
Jorm slid into the seat, leaning over immediately to press a kiss to Hermes’ lips barely able to contain the smile that stretched his own.
”You’re irresistible when you’re all giddy and excited, Herm,” he whispered, pressing another peck before leaning back into the plush seats of this rather fancy car. This didn’t quite suit him in the way that it did Hermes. He appreciated nice cars, but didn’t quite fancy one himself as they didn’t compare to what he already had around him. However, Jormungandr wouldn’t turn his nose at the offer to ride in one.
”What’re you waiting for? I’m surprised you’re able to resist slamming the pedal down and rushing to the ball,” Jormungandr laughed, quickly pushing the seatbelt into place. Though they couldn’t die, getting injured and the pain that followed really wasn’t something Jormungandr wanted to test at the moment.
”Go wild, Herm… just be careful of others,” Jorm made a gesture toward the road, smiling softly at the man next to him.
His hand had moved over to rest on Jorms thigh, which he gave a playful squeeze, fingers lingering a satisfactory moment too long. Even the simplest of touches were enough to send a burning heat rolling over his skin and the god forever had to pull himself back from moving into deeper territory.
“Just making sure you’re tucked in tightly first.” He grinned, his smile giving a hint of the devilry that he always kept neatly simmering under the surface. Hermes had enough self-awareness to know how downright reckless he could be, particularly after a drink or two, but he had no plans on letting this particular god get hurt in any way.
“But if you really must insist…” Raising an eyebrow at Jorm, his hands moved to place the key in the ignition, the Aston emitting a satisfying purr as he turned it clockwise. He felt his heart quicken in excitement as if to match the beat of the engine before him. Little could compare to how fast he had once been but any speed, even that made by mortals, still sent a thrill rushing to his core.
In a flash, he had put the car in gear, purr turning into a biting growl, nimble tires spinning as the car shot down the street like a hunter after its prey. The twilight offered quieter roads and she flew round the corners, Hermes giving her no moment in which to slow her pursuit. When an open road laid itself out in front of them, he pushed her further, eyes moving over to Jorm playfully for the briefest of moments before flitting back to the whirr of lights and lines ahead. Cars were left behind in her wake, though none offered any protests, the sleek form of the Aston weaving in and out as seamlessly as a thread through the eye of a needle. There was no hesitation, no pause. Only an endlessly satisfying forward momentum which spoke to a part of him that few others understood.
The greek gods eyes were alight, excitement coursing through him, reviving that addictively intoxicating high. He could’ve continued on like this for hours but as quickly as they had set off...they had arrived. A feverish atmosphere of flashing cameras and eager shouts greeted them when Hermes pulled to a halt outside of the venue, fingers reaching over to reluctantly switch off the engine. Leaning closer to Jorm, a self-satisfied smile played at the edges of his lips as he gazed at his lover.
“That was fun right?” Speed had never fallen into Jormungandr’s jurisdiction; a being of grand size as he could span the entirety of the earth in but a few deep waves of his serpentine form. Therefore speed didn’t equate much to Jormungandr as it did to others, rather size and form influenced him. Which made the change from ringing the earth in his scales to a small speck of dust that is the human form all that disorienting. With that came the sudden shock of speed that sometimes hit him through a number of transportation, especially subways.
Yet, seeing the joy creep along Hermes’ face wiped away the dizzy spell that hit him, erupting into a deep yearning to see that look cross Hermes’ features an indefinite amount of times. He’d suddenly hoped that he himself would be the cause for such a look and in this case he felt he’d at least aided in it. What mattered was the fact that Jormungandr got to see it and cherish it close to his chest, filed away deep in precious memory banks.
His hand wisped over toward Hermes’ as they came to a stop. The quickness to which they’d arrived meant nothing compared to the steady slowing of time in his little moments watching Hermes envelope himself in joy and adrenaline. Jormungandr gripped the deity’s hand in his and squeezed hard and tight.
”That was exceptionally fun, Herm,” Jorm grinned, bringing the man’s hand to his lips as he kissed Hermes’ fingers,
”I could think of no better place than here with you.” Jormungandr tugged at him then, tilting his head toward the event with the round of flashing lights turning the night sky a stark white blaze.
For a moment Hermes didn’t want to go inside. Entering the ball would mean sharing Jorm with others and he selfishly felt a desire to keep him to himself. The buzz of life, the throng of people. All of it would normally draw him in like a moth to a flame. But he had recently found that such temptations mattered little when he was around Jorm, fading instead to the background of his desires.
“Me neither.” He admitted as his gaze latched onto the serpents own soft brown eyes, hand moving to rub a thumb over his lips. The herald would have stayed like that for longer too...if not for the sudden sensation of being watched.
Turning his head, Hermes couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as he became aware of the valet hovering awkwardly outside the Aston. The man was clearly trying, and failing, to avoid staring at the couple as they lingered for several moments too long.
“Come on then.” He smiled, reluctantly shifting his body away from Jorms.
“Let’s go show you off.” The messenger of the gods offered him a small wink as he opened the drivers side door, sliding out before handing the keys deftly to the valet.
Enraptured by a messenger god from an entirely different pantheon didn’t slot into a neat plan that Jorm would have imagined someone more organized would have. Yet, Jorm relished in the chaos of the life that surrounded him primarily because it had brought Hermes into his life among giving him a chance at freedom.
The irony in that statement alone should have made Jorm chuckle if he didn’t wholly believe it. He’d been tossed to the sea and left to wallow away in loneliness until the very end of time. He’d been destined to bring those end times, at least for his people he did. Knowing the inner workings of pantheon specific end-time prophecies and how they intersected with the world at large didn’t fall into Jorm’s varying talents. However, he supposed that didn’t matter when looking around him now his hand in Hermes’ walking through a throng of bustling reporters.
Now all that mattered was the man at his side and keeping them both free to do as they pleased. It filled Jorm with a welling, bubbling happiness that could only find a place in the bright smile he wore. He tightened his hand around Hermes’ own, smiled down at them as they entered into a den of possibilities.
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