Disney's Hercules fic - Hermes/Philoctetes - Hey Is For Horses

[poisontea]

There was maybe a quarter of a second between the sound of Phil's door banging open and his field of vision suddenly being filled by... something.

That was not enough time to prepare-even, he would like to argue, for the best of the heroes he'd trained-or to recognize what was suddenly in his face; it was just a colorful blob to him, but one that he was pretty sure shouldn't have been there, and he nearly fell out of his chair as he jumped, flailing backwards. "Whoa!"

There was a light laugh, followed up by, "Sorry, babe." That voice he knew, the apology sounding as laid back (and, to his ears, as unapologetic) as ever. The Unidentifiable Floating Object left his field of vision, and he glared as his sudden visitor came into proper view. Just as he'd thought: Hermes.

"Ahh, I shoulda known it was you," Phil grouched, settling himself back in his chair and trying to pretend that Hermes hadn't just about given him a heart attack. Lucky he hadn't been trying to drink, or he would've spilled coffee all over everything, including himself probably. "What is it this time, Hermes?"

"Just dropping by to drop this off." Hermes was breezy, and held back out the thing he'd shoved in Phil's face before, in less obnoxious offering this time, and Phil froze in reaching for his coffee, thankful once again that he hadn't actually been trying to drink it. He was actually able to focus on what was in Hermes's hands now, and what Hermes was giving him was, apparently, a large bouquet of flowers.

"Whuh..." Alright, Phil would never call himself eloquent, but he could do better than that. "Okay, what gives? What for?"

"Well..." Hermes flew over to sit himself down on the table, opened his mouth to continue, and Phil grabbed his ankle and yanked him back off of it.

"Off the table, wingtips." That was what he had chairs for!

It didn't seem to bother Hermes, who of course didn't hit the floor or even dip slightly in the air. He drifted down into the indicated chair instead, spinning it around backwards and propping his feet up on nothing, one leg crossed over the other, as if they were on the table behind him instead of being suspended by his ankle-wings. Smartass.

"Hephaestus wanted me to give these to Athena," Hermes explained, as if he hadn't missed a beat. He added, wry, "Not for the first time. I could have told him it wouldn't turn out well, but nobody asks me about these things. They just want me to deliver. Anyway, of course Athena doesn't want them, she hasn't wanted any of them. Usually that means return to sender, and then Hephaestus wants me to make a third trip to take them to Aphrodite instead-you know, pretend he got them just for her?"

Phil had cautiously gone back to his coffee when he'd realized where this story was going, watching Hermes dubiously. So because of this big runaround, Hermes was dumping the flowers off on him? Still, having this firsthand account of what the gods got up to was actually kind of entertaining. "Uh-huh?"

"Except this time instead of telling him off again, Athena went straight to Aphrodite. She puts two and two together, figures out the trick with the bouquets, and she is not too happy. And y'know, she wouldn't even be mad if he'd been honest about it? It's not like they've got a closed marriage. But getting someone else's rejected gifts and having him say they were just for her? Ooh, ouch, babe. So she wants me to take them back to him and throw them in his face-which I don't do, that gesture would not be the same coming from me-but I take them back, Hephaestus gets upset, of course he doesn't want them either. I ask him what to do with them, and he tells me I can do whatever I want, just throw them in the garbage for all he cares."

"So you thought I'd want them?" Phil asked, sarcastic. "A bouquet of flowers from Hephaestus about six times removed?" ...Sort of from Aphrodite too, though, and only twice removed there. Maybe they'd give him good luck.

Hermes grinned, waving them in the air at him, faux-temptingly. "I thought I'd bring them to my favorite garbage disposal."

Phil paused, then, looking over the bouquet with a more discerning eye despite himself. Orchids, anemones, nasturtiums... Sure, anemones were everywhere, and orchids were bad for his digestion, but nasturtiums were great, and- "Is that Minoan Lace?"

He almost regretted asking as soon as the words left his mouth. Hermes had won, and from the smile on his face Hermes knew he had won, and Phil knew both of these things without actually being sure what game they were playing. He definitely wasn't going to admit to not knowing, though.

And it was only almost a regret. Minoan Lace was delicious.

"Sure is. So... you do want it, babe?" Hermes was giving him a knowing look over the top of his glasses, dammit. Phil gave an irritated bleat under his breath, then held out his hand for the bouquet.

"Awright, awright." As Hermes handed it over, and he sat back, starting to pick orchids out of it and toss them on the table, Phil settled a little. Why did he always get so irritated around Hermes, anyway? Phil knew he wasn't irresponsible or anything, despite what had happened with the Bacchanal. Still, it always felt like he was just way too laid back, even when he was in a hurry or not happy with a situation. Mostly, it felt like he didn't take Phil, specifically, all that seriously, and that wore on Phil's nerves.

But this was actually a pretty nice gesture, even if it was a joke gift. Trash he didn't want, that Phil could eat? Eh, maybe, but Phil was still gonna eat it. "Y'know, this is really good stuff. Thanks."

"Gods don't like to gift anything less than the best," Hermes agreed. He reached behind himself, back onto the table to snag one of the discarded orchids, spinning it between his fingers. "You don't like orchids?"

Phil shrugged, munching on one of the nasturtiums, trying to refrain himself from just scarfing down all of the lace first. "I like 'em fine. Probably a little better than anemones, but they don't like me."

"Ooh, got it, babe. And Minoan Lace..." Hermes tossed the orchid back on the table, then reached over and slid one of the laces out from the bouquet, ignoring a "hey!" of protest from Phil. "You know, I had no idea you'd have a soft spot for these. Lucky me, huh?"

Phil rolled his eyes. "If I didn't want it, you could have just thrown it away," he pointed out.

"See, I would just hate to see such a nice arrangement go to waste."

Well, if Phil eating it didn't count as waste, that worked out great, then. "Still sounds like it was a lucky break for me, not you. You're not gonna get caught in this big relationship blow-up just because you're the messenger?"

Hermes looked vaguely surprised, then smiled, toying with the small flower, stem held between two fingers. "Everyone except Aries and the Big Guy himself are good about not shooting the messenger, actually. Athena can be temperamental, but she wasn't that annoyed with me. And I doubt it'll turn into much of a blow-up; Hephaestus will just be in the doghouse for a while."

Phil snorted. "What, love's not violent?"

"Love can be ab-so-lutely merciless." Hermes held the lace flower back out, pointing it right in Phil's face. "Aphrodite's not so much."

Phil squinted his eyes at the flower, thought for a moment about grabbing back, then shrugged internally and just bit the end off of it. He missed the grin that crossed Hermes's face then, reaching up to hurriedly grab the stem as Hermes let go. "Hey, don't waste the stem! The leaves are the best part."

"Really?" Hermes plucked another lace flower from the bouquet, examining it, and then holding it out towards Phil too. "It's funny, everything I've experienced, and I have no idea what these taste like to you. Isn't that just nutty?"

"It's not that strange," Phil disagreed, absently munching on the proffered flower, not severing it completely from the stem so that this time, when Hermes let go, it didn't just drop. "You're a god, not an herbivore."

"Fair point," Hermes said, obviously amused. Tickled by something. Phil tried to squash his usual irritation, trying to tell himself that the joke might not be on him. "But I could be."

"Huh... I guess you could. If gods can take mortal guises, no reason you can't choose to be a satyr." Now that was a weird thought. And for some reason it made him feel weird. Not completely weirded out, but wow. Any god but Pan walking around as a satyr would never have occurred to him, and he couldn't even imagine Hermes, specifically, doing that.

Hermes laughed, then, and Phil looked back over to him. "Sorry, Philissimo, you just looked so stunned." He leaned over, snagging another lace flower, and this one he immediately offered out. "Of course you are more interested in nymphs than satyrs, aren't you..."

"Yeah, that's not exactly..." Phil trailed off then, though, and it hit him like a ton of bricks, what Hermes was saying, that Hermes had just used some little nickname, that Hermes was-

Oh, gods, Hermes was feeding him.

"Then again," Hermes said airily, and this time Phil could tell that he was feigning not noticing Phil's shock, "nymphs are herbivorous too-well, depends on the nymph, a lot of them photosynthesize, and that wouldn't be any help..."

"Do not turn into a nymph." Phil managed to say it warningly, instead of sounding half-panicked, at least. He pressed his free hand to his chest, trying to breathe deep and even. "You're gonna give me heart failure over here."

"Believe me, babe, that is not what I'm trying to do."

Something about the way Hermes said that made a shiver go down his spine, all the way right to his furry little tail. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that, because his head was spinning way too much for him to get a handle on it.

"I think I'm gonna put the rest of these in a vase for later," Phil muttered, scooting off his chair and heading for the kitchen. And his back was to Hermes then, but he could still tell he was being followed, so it wasn't exactly a shock to hear the voice from behind him as he stood on a stool and filled a vase up with water.

The slightly concerned tone was a surprise, though. "Hey- Phil? You feeling alright, babe? I hope I'm not coming on too strong."

Well that seemed kind of ridiculous. He stuck the flowers in the vase, then the vase up on the counter. "No, no- I'm just... I think I'm just remembering that you're a freaking god. Whoa!"

He'd spun around on the stool while talking, there, and nearly fell off of it; luckily, satyrs, like goats, were surefooted, and he caught his balance, then looked back at Hermes.

Who was floating there, of course, a few feet off the ground so that he could be about face to face with Phil. But his usual smile was gone, and he actually did look honest-to-gods worried, and had one hand up in a sort of, aborted, steadying gesture.

He smiled when he saw Phil looking, and his raised his hand up to his own cheek instead, as if propping his chin in his hand in the air. "And what do you mean by that?"

"I ain't exactly the type of guy who usually catches the attention of gods." Phil wasn't down on himself either, at all, he just knew that Olympians tended to go after... oh, curly-haired youths, and impressive heroes, and beautiful women up to and including nymphs. It was a thing. "Now, see, Perseus I get-"

Hermes's mouth twisted slightly. "Let's not talk about Perseus, babe."

Right, maybe not the best example. That hadn't worked out. Phil turned, carefully climbing down from the stool, back to the floor. "Alright, fair. But that ain't it, I mean, I've kicked you out of my house! I made you run laps. I-"

"Haven't treated me with the proper godly respect?" Hermes finished dryly. He dipped down in the air again, so he wouldn't be feet above Phil while they talked. "Crazy, right? You don't even call me 'O mighty Hermes'."

That kind of broke through Phil's little internal crisis. He stared at Hermes. "Yeah, and I'm not gonna."

Hermes actually laughed, this pleased, light chuckle as he rolled over in the air, lounging on his back and studying the lace flower in his hands fondly, fingers brushing over the petals, light enough not to bruise them. "I know, and I like that, babe."

Phil was lost. He trotted a little closer, squinting at Hermes, trying to figure him out. "You like not being respected?"

"Ooh, no, not exactly," Hermes disagreed. He spun the flower in his fingers. "But Zeus sees me as a lackey, and most of the other gods see me as either useful or a nuisance, take your pick-and mortals! They're in awe and in-timidated, you know what I'm saying. All the supplications... And I get it, I mean, I do. It's my job-and by that I mean jobs-and it's not a problem, I knew what I was signing up for. But it's nice, y'know, having someone treat me like I'm just another person."

"Even like you're an annoying person?" Phil had to ask, but he couldn't miss the wistfulness that was in Hermes's voice.

"It's been a long, long time since I've had a lover who wasn't in awe of me."

Phil turned red; he could feel himself turning red. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. "That, uh. That makes sense."

"Besides, Philissimo," Hermes turned back over in the air, righting himself again, "you have a good head on your shoulders... most of the time. And you can be a sweet guy, when you aren't being a prickly jerk."

"Oh. Gee. Thanks." Phil's sarcasm had come back to him, but he was still tense, confused; he still felt speechless. Hermes seemed to notice, and he sighed, fingers deftly starting to pluck the leaves from the flower in his hands.

"Mind if I try something, babe?"

"Sure, I mean, knock yourself out." Phil was kind of at a loss again. Was Hermes going to go back to feeding him-just the leaves this time? That would be more intimate, and Phil's stomach twisted up in nervousness, but not exactly in a bad way. So, huh. Maybe it would be kind of nice? Maybe this wasn't so...

Hermes popped the leaves into his own mouth instead, and Phil could've laughed at himself, both for feeling surprised and for letting himself get carried away. That's what he got for assuming what Hermes was thinking! But he still wasn't herbivorous, so it wasn't like he'd find out what the flower tasted like for Phil that way, anyway-

Hermes kissed him.

After gods knew how long with his mind a complete blank, feeling like his spine and limbs had gone totally stiff in shock, Phil reached up and kissed him back. Which was, he decided, a really great idea, since Hermes seemed to take that as encouragement and permission, and did some amazing trick with his tongue, and kissing him tasted like Minoan Lace...

Wait. His mouth tasted like Minoan Lace. Like, Phil's actual mouth.

He let go. Hermes pulled away, and he pulled back too, realizing the lace flower leaves were in his mouth now, and chewing at them instinctively. Yep, there they were.

Hermes had an uncertain look on his face, mouth twisted slightly again. Maybe not like he had a bad taste in his mouth. More like he had a taste in his mouth that he was deeply considering, trying to figure out whether he'd call it bad or not. "Well, hey, that tasted just like eating a plant," he noted.

Maybe it was the way he said it, or his expression, or his usual casual attitude and the fact that he was acting like that hadn't just happened. But Phil stared at him for about two seconds, and then started laughing, until he was red in the face again, until there were actual tears in his eyes. He heard Hermes laugh, too, and by the time he'd caught his breath again, he looked back up into a pleased, faintly smug grin, and he didn't feel irritated at all.

The tension was gone, just like that, and Phil had to wonder if it was ever going to come back again. Ah, who was he kidding? Things would probably be tense sometimes, and Hermes would probably still get on his nerves once in a while. But... that felt okay. It might come back, but it wasn't gonna be the same.

"Now you're smiling," Hermes observed.

Phil snorted, amused. "Yeah, so what?" he returned, play-challenging, and Hermes snickered.

"'So' nothing. Have I ever told you it's a good look for you?" Obviously he hadn't, and he seemed tickled when Phil went slightly red again, floating closer and giving Phil a kiss on the cheek, pressing the leafless lace flower into his hands. "Sorry, babe, but I really should jet. I should have left a while ago, but I wanted to see where this would go."

Phil popped the flower in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, finding that he was more than unbothered by the cheek kiss-it was nice. "So where did it go, exactly?"

Hermes didn't even really answer. He just reached up to inch his glasses down his nose, giving Phil a look over the top of them and a grin, and waggled his damn eyebrows. "Where do you think, babe?"

Phil let out a huff, but he couldn't help grinning, even as he raised both hands and wiggled his fingers at Hermes threateningly. "I think if you don't wanna spend a lot longer down here, you're gonna get your eyebrows and your ankle-wings out of my house!"

Hermes laughed, backwards and out of his reach before he could even finish his sentence. He only paused long enough to say, with a cheerful wink, "Later, babe," before he was gone, door banging open again when he left.

Phil shook his head, going over to collect the discarded orchids from off the table, heading out the door himself to go toss them in the compost. He still wasn't sure what exactly Hermes wanted out of this relationship-if it even was one, that was one of the confusing parts-but he knew what the game was now, and he'd been reassured that it was one he could play. And all apprehensions aside, he was already enjoying it.

Oh, yeah. He had a feeling this was going to be fun.