The cows have been a blessing in more ways than one. They not only provide good resources for his people such as milk and meat but they will always have a connection to Apollo. It’s part of the reason why Admetus visits the fields so often. He remembers when he first step food in the fields because he was informed that the cows had been having twins, every single pregnant mother was birthing miracle babies. That’s when he first met the god, at first he was unaware that the man among them was in fact Apollo. However just the sight of him struck him like an arrow through the chest, Eros’ doing no doubt. But every since that moment Admetus demanded to know who this worker was in the fields. If Admetus had it his way, Apollo would have stopped working that first day he laid eyes upon him and come live in the castle with him to be his consort. However Zeus’ divine punishment could not make exceptions the god was doomed to work in his fields. While there were no exceptions there was still a bit of rule bending that was done.
Apollo would spend long nights in his chambers, Admetus keeping the beautiful god all to himself. They’d laid in his bed together, oils soothing over nearly blistered skin to relieve the other of the betrayal of his precious sun. He’d run his hands down the god’s back marveling in the muscles that moved and twitched beneath his touch. He can almost hear the echo’s of the moans that would bounce from the walls so everyone could hear their shared ecstasy. How Admetus wished to keep the marks of Apollo on his body, wanting to glance at his back in the mirror for the rest of time to see the red lines that crossed over his freckled skin, but that was not to be. Apollo was too kind to let him stay harmed, instead warm hands would press along those scratches to make them disappear. Oh, what he’d give to feel that almost too hot skin writhing against his body once more, to have his teeth bite into molten flesh and sooth his tongue over a mark he’d been allow to give a god. Admetus is a man starved. Does that then make Apollo a cruel god for depraving such a devout man? Surely not, this was the king’s own exile. He did this to himself and now he’s dammed to this taunting. Truthfully it wasn’t all about sex, the god had taken to spoiling the king, who knew that was still possible. Delicate fingers would place the finest of cheeses on his tongue and would dote endlessly as he lay across the king’s chest. There was a domestic side to things, one so sweet that he could envision a white chiton that would have flowed beautiful upon Apollo’s perfect form. But mortals are not meant for gods, not matter how much Admetus wishes they were. So he lives with the hauntingly beautiful ghosts of intertwined fingers and whispered words of worship.
“You think much too highly of me.” It makes Admetus laugh a bit though. How strange it is to have this conversation with a god, nearly correcting him. He does hope Artemis isn’t anywhere nearby to smite him for correcting her good brother. “It was the worst when you left. They mourned for you as if you would never return…” He pauses, “I did as well, I mourned your leaving.” He’s alright with admitting it. He’s never been one to shy away from telling the truth to his one love. He had been truthful in their relationship before and he wasn’t going to begin now. There is still devastation in this heart from when Apollo left the first time, but he knows he’s broken Apollo’s heart as well with the marriage to his previous wife. Truly a mess they’ve gotten themselves into, their strings of fate tangled and twisted but.. maybe this could begin the unravelling of it. “I know we’re all happy for your return… I wasn’t sure if you’d ever come back. Not that I would fault you of course, but I still had a lingering fear I would never get to lay my eyes upon you again.” He had that nightmare often, his dying breath and Apollo would never again appear to him. But now he’s got something to disprove that fear and it’s the man sitting in front of him.
A smile graces the kings face as he watches Apollo interaction with the calf, it’s a small one – a bit hidden given the topic but it’s still there. “There is no need to apologize, we separated on very good terms. I still care for her deeply but in the way you think. She always knew my heart belonged to you and was graceful in accepting the fact that I’d never love her as I do you. She’s remarried now, a knight from this kingdom in fact. The children are off with her now a few cities over.” The king goes onto sigh softly. “Apollo you will always have my heart, it has belong to you the moment I saw you in the fields for the first time. My love is unwavering.”
There was a time when Apollo had been a shepherd god. This is quite a long time ago, Hermes had been born and decided to play quite the interesting trick on him. He had fifty prized cattle, looking after them tenderly, with the utmost of care. They’re sacred to him, no matter how much time has passed by. The anxiety weighed heavy while trying to find out what happened, only to be replaced by boiling rage upon facing his brother, merely an infant. However, this doesn’t fool anyone. Lies and theft! The whole predicament resolved before Zeus and the domain of being a shepherd god had been passed on to the mischievous child. Although the role never left his own duties, simply becoming the god of herds and flocks instead. He likes to spread his divine touch to the animals. Often they’re better than people. His experience with owning cattle of his own and tending to others made being a slave for Admetus make sense. If Apollo were to suffer for nine long years then it must be done doing something that he truly loved. Only what a surprise it had been to find another passion in the meantime. Bestowing the gift of twins onto the cows into those fields was effortless and it helped take care of the people who relied on the resources. It makes him happy to see some of them raised by his own hand are still here. Once young calves and now much older, yet still have some spirit in their step.
What the god wouldn’t give for another chance at one of those long nights. He felt so comfortable sliding into such a submissive role with the king, easily spreading his legs for him. His way of inviting him to slide inside. The gasps that fill the room when he stretched around him, as if their bodies were perfectly crafted for each other. He wonders how many people stood by to listen, pleasuring themselves off of their intimacy. Only Aphrodite dare know the answer but Apollo never goes looking for one. The god only cares about their limited time alone. His attention never leaves Admetus for a second to bother caring about the other side of the door. His heels digging into the king’s lower back while his fingernails scratch down the rest of his skin. Unless his thighs were held in a more spread position. These memories come to him at night, haunting him as if he could still feel the warmth of Admetus’ breath on his neck. It has been so long since this pleasure washed over him, wanting to do everything and anything if it meant having his beloved close to him again.
Sometimes there were rare nights when they had a few extra minutes to spare, allowing Apollo to lay on top of him, tracing fingers along those muscles and gazing down at the king so fondly. If only that time could last longer, staying here the whole night to rest his head upon his love until morning. The sun would shine through the windows and illuminate their skin for the kind of welcoming they always deserved. Apollo never got this luxury, instead asleep alone in a cramped room with several other men. The ones who worked to keep the palace clean or did hard labor such as the god does outside from sunrise to sunset.
It makes his lips quirk into a smirk. The golden haired Olympian has always loved the way Admetus wasn’t afraid to correct him. He doesn’t agree necessarily. “I think highly of you since you are deserving of my praise.” His sister isn’t nearby this time, made sure to let her know of his whereabouts before leaving their mountain. This was something that needed to be done. Seeing the man he loves again has plagued his thoughts for too long. “I always valued your honesty in our relationship. Nobody has ever done that before but I understand now after all this time why it needed to be done. There are certain duties you need to fulfill in your own right, just as my people have their own. I don’t hold that against you any longer. I don’t think I ever truly did. My wish for your life is happiness. I’m glad by being here can help give you some of that. I don’t have a beard this time . . .” His fingers gesture to his face, clean shaven as if a hair has never grown there before. He flashes a bright grin, flirting even after all this time. It felt safe if Admetus is no longer with anyone. They did just confess their love again, did they not? “I hope that I’m still your type. Everything else is the same. My heart still beating for you, my body craving your touch, and my soul wanting your affection.”
Eventually the calf crawls out of his lap to run back to the mother, leaving the two men alone to continue repairing a bridge not burned, simply in need of some care. He feels nervous, an emotion not one that Apollo dabbles in often. He starts crawling over, dirt clinging to his knees, sliding into the king’s lap since it just feels appropriate. “Let me be yours again. You have my heart and I have yours. What is stopping us now? Let me come be your lover again. Only difference this time is that I won’t be one of your slaves. We can have it all now, Admetus. If you allow it I could stay the entire night, no longer separated. Do you wish for this as well?” His chiton short, extravagant patterns stitched into the fabric. His wrists have gold jewelry around them, fingers reaching out to adjust the clothes on the king. He’s still doting on him even after all this time. He feels comfortable sitting here in the mortal’s lap — a lot like coming home. Now it’s just up to Admetus if he’ll invite him inside. Apollo made it obvious that he’s interested in staying the night and rekindling their romance.
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