By Queenie

Disclaimer: The auther does not own the characters from Hercules: the Legendary Journeys. Those characters belong to MCA/Universal and were used without permission. No copyright infringement intended and no money was made.

Prop : Dite's Shell
Person : Autolycus
Place : The Beach
Piece of clothing : the Blue 'jammies' (whimper!)
Position : Hercules' lap

It was a perfect summer's day.

The glorious golden sun gilded the lapis lazuli sky, sending bright shards of light skittering across the landscape below, mirrored a thousand times over in the sparkling crystal of the dancing waves as they undulated and surged in huge white clouds of glittering moisture over the dark sable sand of the shoreline.

The lilting crash of the breaking foam formed a harmonic background to the wild call of the seagulls as they flew over the brightly prismed ocean, sweeping down in ever decreasing circles, performing their graceful, erratic dance over and over for the audience of one.

Hercules was oblivious to the beauty of the day, however; paid scant attention to the harsh strident cries of the birds as they swooped and soared, increasing their flight path here, diminishing their circular motion there. He was deep in contemplation, his azure eyes trained first on the distant horizon, then, to his left, on the promontory of blackened rock which jutted out into the dancing waves, covered every so often by a crash of foam as the surf cascaded onto its outer rim.

He was waiting.

He seemed to have been waiting for ever.

Of course, forever was a relative term.

And speaking of 'relatives' ...

Aphrodite.

He was actually quite fond of his little sister. Sure, she could be petulant, capricious and as annoying as hell, but she was one of the best out of the bunch of Olympians who were his family.

But right now she was not at the top of his Solstice card list.

And sitting there, on the black shingled beach, just out of reach of the vast breakers which were rolling further and further up the coastline, was the reason why.

Her damned shell.

Why she couldn't send the damned thing back to Olympus or just make it disappear as she did with other objects when she wasn't using them he didn't know and hadn't had the opportunity to ask. She had collared him on his way here, begged him to look after it for her whilst she went to take care of a little quarrel between two young lovers who had been unfortunate enough to become entangled with one of Autolycus's wild schemes and, having been falsely imprisoned for theft, had then proceeded to blame each other instead of the real culprit, then, in a twinkling, aureate shower, had disappeared. That form of travel was actually the only thing he envied in the rest of his family. And now here he was, sitting on the beach, sighing heavily, his gaze alternating moodily between her blasted mode of travel and the rocks beyond.

It was no wonder he did not appreciate the day's beauty.

Iolaus was whistling cheerfully as he clambered down the moss-covered crag, his appreciative gaze drinking in the wondrous sight of the racing turquoise ocean and smiling as the seabirds' melodic chorus sang above the tuneful sound of the rolling waves.

His smile wavered a bit when he spotted the familiar figure hunched on the sand, looking like he'd just lost his best friend. His cheerful disposition re-asserted itself as he realised that he could remedy that situation in an instant and he increased his pace, eager to reach the brooding demigod.

"Hi, Herc," he said, as he approached the silent, mournful looking figure. "What's up?"

His words elicited a gasp from the son of Zeus as Hercules swung round to face him his gloomy expression swiftly transforming into a blazing smile of greeting. "Iolaus!" he exclaimed, joyously. "Finally!"

"Oh, been waiting long, have you?" the blond hunter teased him as he was enveloped in an enthusiastic and somewhat bone crunching hug. "Herc ... the ribs!"

"Oh ... sorry." Hercules stepped pack apace to survey the golden vision before him, his eyes travelling appreciatively over the tawny, sculpted chest, down the firmly muscled abdomen and stopping at the waistband of the blue, multi-hued pants which clung enticingly to the lower half of the hunter's gleaming, tanned torso. "Iolaus ... what are you wearing?"

The blond warrior frowned for a moment, then suddenly realised that he was still garbed in the billowing pants which he had been given by the cult members in the Lost City. He had removed the tunic when the heat of the day had made it too uncomfortable to wear any longer, clinging as it was to all the damp parts of his upper body. "Oh, this," he replied, pulling at the sash distractedly. "I ... um .. it's a long story, Herc."

"It must be," said the demigod, softly, reaching out one finger to tenderly trace the healing cut which still marked his friend's fine features. "Are you all right?"

Iolaus shrugged. "I'm fine." A shudder which he could not suppress tore through him at the memory of the wheel and Kamaros' attempt at brainwashing him. It had all but succeeded and it was only by sheer strength of will, not to mention the mind techniques he had learned in the East that he had managed to resist. "I'm just fine," he repeated, noticing the speculative gaze with which his best friend was endowing him.

Hercules was not entirely convinced of this. There were shadows in those gentian blue eyes which had not been there before their parting a week ago. However, he knew better than to question Iolaus' sincerity. If there was anything to tell, then his friend would share it with him eventually. Iolaus could never keep anything from him for long.

Masking his concern with an appraising stare, Hercules grinned. "Nice outfit," he commented. "It goes with your eyes."

"What - the dashes of mauve and violet?" queried the blond, laughing, relieved that his partner was not going to push him to reveal the details of his latest solo adventure, not quite sure how he was going to explain it to his friend, but knowing that at some stage, he was going to have to. At least before they met up with Salmoneous again. The plump little merchant would delight in regaling the demigod with the exaggerations of this latest incident and Iolaus wanted to make damned sure that Hercules had all the real facts at his disposal before listening to Salmoneous's somewhat loose version of the truth. Besides, Hercules would be hurt if he heard it from the other man before it came from Iolaus' own lips.

"Actually, I was thinking more in terms of the pink and yellow bits," came the demigod's swift rejoinder, aiming a friendly punch at the hunter's exposed shoulder and missing as his friend stepped out of the way.

"Thanks," came the dry retort. "You make me sound like a demented rabbit."

"Well, you can be demented, certainly, and let's face it, Iolaus, sometimes you remind me of a rabbit."

"Ah..." The golden warrior smiled broadly. "You mean the way I fuck?"

"That too."

"What d'you mean 'that too'??" Iolaus pretended indignation. "You're saying I look like a rabbit?"

"Well, you have to admit," murmured Hercules, who had stepped closer to the smaller man and was in the process of placing featherlight kisses across the bronzed shoulders, his large hands grasping the slim hips securely, "you are cute, and your hair is fluffy and ..."

"..I have big ears?" interjected the blond, stifling a gasp as the well-practised lips travelled further afield, moving up his corded throat and toward the back of said protuberances.

"Actually ... very ... nice ... ears ..." the demigod assured him, inbetween kisses. And ... very nice ... other things ... as well ..."

Iolaus bit back a whimper as Hercules mouth closed on a nipple, tugging and pulling at it until it stood practically to attention, He was just about to render the same treatment to the other one when ...

C-R-U-N-C-H!!!!!!

Both men whipped their heads round in the direction of the terrible noise and Hercules groaned at the sight which met their dual gaze.

Aphrodite's shell, left unattended and unguarded, had been caught in a particularly huge tidal surge and was now lying on its side, its back broken, the straps which she used to guide its progress through the waves hanging limply out and trailing pathetically in the sand.

"Hercules!!!"

"Uh - oh - you're in trouble now, big guy!" Iolaus said, sniggering, as an outraged Goddess of Love suddenly appeared in a spitting shower of sparks.

"Shut up, Iolaus," muttered Hercules under his breath. Turning, he smiled hesitantly at the undoubtedly beautiful but extremely angry blonde Olympian. "Uh - sorry, 'Dite," he said. "I - guess I wasn't paying attention."

"Darned right you weren't!" she snapped. She tossed her mane of golden curls back as she advanced upon him, aquamarine eyes, echoing the colour of the dancing waves, flashing. "You just ... you just - look at my shell! Look at it! I ... oh, hi, Sweetcheeks." She flashed a brilliant smile in Iolaus's direction, then suddenly paused, looked from one to the other speculatively and the next instant, let loose a peal of laughter which caused several of the seagulls flying overhead to swoon helplessly and plummet into the ocean. "Oh ... I get it," she said, thoughtfully. "You and he are ... and you were .. when my shell was ... oh ..."

"We're sorry, 'Dite," Iolaus apologised, taking one delicate little hand within his own and placing a featherlight kiss on the back of it. "I guess if you want to blame someone, then it should be me."

"Oh, I could never blame *you* for anything, curly." She giggled, then gazed at him appraisingly for a long moment. "You know, you look *really* good in that colour ..."

"'Dite ..." growled Hercules warningly.

"Oh all right," she conceded, grudgingly, "I won't yell at you this time, even if you did, like completely wipe out my *favourite* clam! I didn't know you were going to be distracted by Sweetcheeks here," she went on, aiming her most engaging smile at the blond warrior and feeling a distinct sense of satisfaction as he visibly wilted a tad beneath her obvious charms. "You should've said something, Hercules."

"You didn't give me a chance," he pointed out, ruefully. "I barely even got to say 'hello'!"

Aphrodite shrugged carelessly. "Bummer," she said. "Okay, guys, must fly. Having dinner with Hephie tonight - gotta make myself look beautiful."

"You already look beautiful," said Iolaus, somewhat wistfully, then remembered who he was addressing and gave himself a mental shake. "Besides," he continued, more firmly, "Haephestus wouldn't care if you turned up filthy, dusty and wearing an old rag. He loves you, 'Dite."

"Oooh .. you are sweet," she cooed, reaching out one perfect finger to stroke his cheek, removing it with a jerk as Hercules bristled. "I'm blowing this joint," she said. "Byee!"

As she winked out of existence in a shower of shimmering golden dust, Hercules turned back to his friend and lover. "You already look beautiful?" he growled.

Iolaus shrugged. "Herc, you can call your sister many things - and believe me, if you haven't, I certainly have - but she's definitely beautiful. What? You wanted me to lie?"

"No." The demigod sighed heavily. "But don't let her take advantage of you, Iolaus. She's *very* good at it, remember - and I thought you had more sense."

"I have," Iolaus told him, stepping forward to wind his arms around his friend's firm waist. "There's only one person I allow to take advantage of me - and I'll give you three guesses as to who that is."

Hercules groaned as his partner's searching fingers probed the top of his pants, slipping inside the waistband and running lightly up and down his spine. "Do I get a prize for ... the right answer?" he asked, breathlessly, running his own hands up and down that smooth torso, rejoicing in the feel of that silken skin beneath his questing digits.

"Yeah," came the response, as the blond warrior made his own foray into the broad, lightly furred chest of his best friend, then turned his face upward and gazed lovingly into the azure eyes. "Me."

"Iolaus ..." The demigod could no more resist that expression on his friend's mobile features than he could turn back the ocean, and he leant down to meet those sensuous lips, probing with his tongue until it gained entry into that sweet mouth, engaging with its counterpart in a duel for dominance. Iolaus melted against him and Hercules was lost, forgetting all else except the body in his arms - his friend, his brother, his lover.

His arms tightened around the compact, muscular form and they sank to the ground, barely aware of the rough sand beneath them as they re-acquainted themselves with each other.

"I hope these come off as easily as the leather ones," Hercules mumbled as he ran his hands up one slender leg, the unfamiliar silken material riding softly against his skin.

"I'm sure you'll manage," came the throaty response, as Iolaus reached up to remove the demigod's tunic and then began working on his leather pants. "Damned sight better than these are, anyway. Did I ever tell you how much I hated these pants?"

"Several times." Hercules had decided to forego convention and had begun to remove the sash holding Iolaus' pants up with his teeth. This put his mouth and nose into contact with the warrior's flat, muscular abdomen and the mere touch of his lover's lips and the warmth of his breath on that sensitised area was threatening to send Iolaus reeling to the edge. "Hold still," he admonished as the smaller man squirmed beneath these ministrations. "I'm almost there."

"So ... so am I!" gasped Iolaus, arching his back as his lover's teeth found a particularly vulnerable spot, and almost forgoing the task of removing Hercules' clothing.

Hercules laughed, and continued to tear the sash off with his teeth, holding the silk in a firm grip and ripping it off the tight waist.

Thus freed, the light, billowing material fell away from the firm body and it was a mere matter of pulling them down to free the burgeoning erection which had been barely concealed below their scant cover.

The demigod would never get used to his partner's golden beauty. From the top of his burnished blond hair to the tip of his bronzed toes, Iolaus was the epitome of gilded perfection, and nowhere more so than here, at the centre of that wonderful body, where the tight thatch of fair curls did nothing to hide the glorious size of his now straining cock.

The son of Zeus kicked off his boots with an effort and, with eager fingers lending a hand, removed his own pants. His own penis was quivering with need and he lost himself for a moment in the liquid blue of Iolaus's eyes, which were awash with longing and desire. Then he bent himself to the task at hand, the feel of the smooth torso below his own body sending ripples of lust surging through him.

Iolaus reached upward, lacing one hand in the long, fine, chestnut hair, allowing the other to roam freely over the broad back, feeling every contour, recognising every dip and curve as his fingers meandered over muscles and bone and taut skin.

As they kissed and explored each others' bodies, so their desire increased in intensity. Then Hercules paused and, sliding both hands beneath his lover, manuouevred him up so that Iolaus was sitting in his lap, the hunter's strong arms wrapped around the taller man's neck. The son of Zeus slowly moved his hands down to cup the firm buttocks and, with one probing finger, moistened with the fluid from his own seeping erection, found that puckered hole, and entered it. Iolaus gasped and his head fell onto the demigod's strong shoulder. Hercules could feel him trembling and ran his other hand gently up and down one soft, downy cheek. Once this single digit was encased within that tight entrance, he pressed another one in, continuing his tender stroking as his lover gasped and shuddered slightly. They remained thus for a long moment until the demigod began thrusting with his fingers and the blond head tucked into his shoulder was thrown back, the tousled blond curls bouncing up and down in rhythm with what his fingers were doing within Iolaus's anus. The golden warrior's body jerked as the fingers probed deeper with each thrust and a strangled scream was ripped from the straining throat as they located and brushed by that sweet place within him.

Before Iolaus could attain orgasm, Hercules slipped his fingers from their home and, supporting the hunter with one arm behind the rippling back, eased him up and turned him around, setting him down slowly, positioning him so that as he sank back onto the demigod's lap, Hercules' aching cock entered the already prepared anus.

The fair head fell back against his shoulder, soft, golden curls tickling the hollow of his throat. Iolaus moaned, and moaned again as Hercules took his shaft in one strong hand, stroking it lovingly, running his finger over the tip, and down the length of it. With one arm wrapped around that magnificent tawny chest, Hercules started to pump in and out of the tight aperture between the magnificent buttocks, and soon, the only sounds were their mutual groans and sighs as they undulated and rocked, their swelling need coursing through them, racing towards completion, until finally, with a hoarse cry. Hercules tensed and sent his semen shooting upward into his lover's body, Iolaus spurting his own milky white liquid in a cascading fountain, dripping down over Hercules hand and onto his own slender thighs.

Slowly, the demigod pulled out of the smaller man, and, turning him around again, kissed him thoroughly. He stretched his legs out before him, easing Iolaus onto his muscular thighs, as Iolaus' own slim legs stretched out, behind the demigod. The kiss seemed to last forever, then was ended, and he pulled the blond warrior into a firm embrace, holding him against his body as though he would never let him go.

"Nice homecoming," murmured Iolaus, some time later, arms tightly wrapped around the demigod, head still resting against the broad shoulder, and quite content to stay there for as long as Hercules would have him.

"Beats looking after a damned shell any day," came the laughing response.

"Well, just so long as I know where I figure on your list of priorities." Iolaus tried to sound wounded but failed miserably. He knew his demigod too well to fall for the noncholance which he was attempting. Hercules needed him. He knew that. Which was okay, because he needed Hercules.

As he allowed himself to drift, he pondered on the ordeal through which he and the other members of the cult had been put and decided that it wasn't important enough to keep a secret. He would tell Hercules about it later tonight ... unless, of course, he was too busy ...

THE END

E-mail the author at necrophilia66@hotmail.com