he's a runner he's a track star @speedsterborn - Tumblr Blog

( KJ APA, BISEXUAL, CIS MALE + HE/HIM, TANK ) «—◦—→ well met, BRENT ANDERS! the divine born child of HERMES. your name sings in our ears! it’s been 25 years and now they have answered the song in their veins. before they answered the song, they were a/an FARM HAND and were living in LINCOLN, NEBRASKA. history and myth will remember them for their COURAGE, RESOURCEFULNESS & DETERMINATION but will also magnify their IMPULSIVENESS, ARROGANCE & GULLIBILITY if it causes them to falter. now it is time for the world to sing their name with them.

#speedy backstory #heartsongintros

scalesworn

cian blinked at him, slow and baffled, like he was genuinely trying to picture a tiny chef hiding in brent’s curls pulling his hair like reins. “aye, well, maybe remy had a bit more… direction,” he murmured, giving the pot a cautious poke with the whisk. it wobbled. actually wobbled. “feckin’ jesus above,” he whispered, stepping back like it might lunge for him.

he rubbed his forearm across his cheek, leaving a long streak of something-orange behind. “right, so paprika and saffron— that’s bold of you, i’ll give you that. but i’m fairly sure no amount of spice is gonna save… whatever this is.” his voice softened with a laugh anyway, warm and good-natured, the kind that bubbled up even through embarrassment. “we’ve made a monster, mate. the kind zeus would smite out of principle.” he looked around then, ducking his head down as if the mentioned godly entity might've heard him.

the oven hissed behind them, a little puff of smoke escaping like it was trying to flee. cian winced, then shot brent a sideways look— shy, conspiratorial. “tell you what,” he said, dropping his voice like they were about to do a crime, “we clean up as fast as your top-speed can manage, we bin the evidence, and then we tell everyone we burnt it by accident.”

another beat.

“or,” he added, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, “we pretend the monster escaped and terrorized the kitchens. might be more believable at this point.” so much for impressing brent camp with his cooking skills.

speedsterborn

Come to think of it, Remy had the imaginary ghost of a famous chef guiding him each step of the way. Brent merely had muscle memories of what he thought were ingredients going into the pot. Not exactly the best way to cook, but he made the effort to bring something for the feast regardless. Perhaps he should have helped with decorating and setup instead.

He watched curiously as Cian poked at their creation and immediately shrieked in response to the thing wobbling. That wasn't right. Almost out of instinct, Brent launched a bolt of kinetic energy in hopes of striking whatever eldritch homunculus they might have concocted. A direct hit, resulting in a mixture of goo and spices to explode throughout the kitchen but mostly the two demigods in the blast radius.

Brent wiped his face clean and sighed. There definitely was no salvaging their dish now. "King Zeus doesn't have to, because clearly I'm trigger happy these days. Sorry for dirtying you up some more, dude." He turned and grimaced at the dented stove top. Great, so he was guilty of vandalism and trying to poison the camp with his dish. "I don't think the Hestia boys are going to be very happy with me. Ovens are like, sacred to them." Hopefully a sincere apology would do.

A bashful laugh broke free from his lips as Cian suggested they hide the evidence. Brent loved the idea, despite intending to clean up their mess well ahead of time. "I never pegged you for the devious type. But since I caused the explosion, I feel obligated to tidy up by myself. Why don't you go home and get ready for the dinner?" He wouldn't ask Cian to help, even if offered. Besides, he could get the job done in half the time.

#brent & cian #cian.02

divineholdings

if anyone at camp could exceed his expectations again and again, it was brent. one of their newest, yet always moving — as if trying to outrun the idea that he hadn’t earned his place here. it almost made raúl feel like a fraud himself, son of zeus and still chasing perfection instead of greatness. maybe he should try less to slow others down and learn to keep pace instead.

hm.

something to think about later. for now, he set the heavy log aside where no one would trip over it, brushing the sawdust from his palms before falling into step beside the younger demigod. “i suppose we can keep the bonfire going all winter now,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “not the worst idea — everyone could use a bit of warmth these days.” evenings by the fire had done wonders to soften edges and knit the camp together again.

at brent’s question, raúl’s hand found his shoulder — a quiet, grounding touch. “i’ve been all right, mijo. took a little time away from all… this.” a pause, and the faintest tilt of his head toward the camp sprawled ahead of them. “went home, handled a few things. came back just in time to hear there’d be a thanksgiving feast.” a low laugh followed, brief but real. “good timing, i’d say.”

then, gentler, as they walked, “what about you? i’ve missed more than a few dinners, seems. everything here moves fast — faster than i remember.”

speedsterborn

More often than not, Brent took the phrase no rest for the wicked a little too literally. He had a habit of overdoing even the most mundane of tasks and didn’t stop even when his body protested. Such was the case now when he continued chopping down would and failed to realize his lungs weren’t keeping up with him. The speedster only managed to slow down and take deep heavy breaths when Raul showed up to help. For that, he was extremely grateful. Otherwise, Brent wouldn’t even notice until he passed out from fatigue.

Warmth was certainly hard to come by these days. So many available bodies to share his bed with yet somehow Brent still often felt cold. Luckily, his body produced enough heat by almost always being in constant motion. He forced himself to smile and simply nod at Raul’s remark. “Saves the others the trouble of chopping firewood. Besides, I didn’t have much else to do.” Brent wanted to feel useful anyway he could. Prove he was worth keeping around the camp. It was his own twisted way of meditation.

Brent leaned into the older half-blood’s touch, nearly pressing against him with their close proximity. His ears perked up at the information of Raul coming home to take care of things. That was heavily advised against lately, but the child of Zeus seemed capable of handling himself. “I noticed you’ve been gone a while. Did you happen to run into any titans?” Then again, if Mnemosyne was involved he supposed Raul wouldn’t remember.

“It does… sometimes faster than even myself.”

#brent & raul #raul.02

kevinskeller

#speedy narcissism

scalesworn

@speedsterborn (also thanksgiving)

the kitchens looked like a battlefield. flour coated the counters, smoke crawled lazily from the oven and two demigods stood in the wreckage pretending everything was fine. brent had a wooden spoon in one hand, cian a whisk that had clearly seen things it shouldn’t have.

“you sure it’s meant to smell like that?” cian asked, frowning down at the pot. it made a sound that wasn’t entirely liquid. “’cause if it is, i owe my mam a very big apology.” he glanced up, cheeks pink, half-laughing as brent gave the mixture another aggressive stir. “we could… call it rustic? or experimental?”

the air was warm with chaos and cinnamon and despite the disaster, there was an easy brightness in it — the kind that only came from making a complete mess with someone who didn’t seem to mind.

speedsterborn

What was originally a wholesome and generous idea to cook a dish for the entire camp, turned out to be a tragedy of cataclysmic proportions. Brent was yet again reminded why he shouldn’t be in the kitchen. Gods, he’d make a terrible husband. He feared not even his speed would be enough to clean up this place in time before the cooks and other demigods came by to check on them.

“I think… if we add enough paprika and saffron, it’ll cover the smell.” Brent was fooling himself at this point. What they made didn’t even look the least bit appetizing, let alone edible. He sighed and put the wooden spoon down. The apron he was wearing did very little to keep him clean. They both looked like two kids who got back from finger painting lessons. Only, spices and mysterious liquids covered their bodies.

He wasn’t going off a recipe, just memory. That might be where things went horribly wrong. “I swear, this is how Ratatouille made it in the movie.”

#brent & cian #cian.02

divineholdings

@speedsterborn (from the sc; made it thanksgiving instead of halloween bc reasons)

the sun was bleeding out behind the treeline when raul found him — shoulders hunched, sleeves rolled, a stubborn silhouette framed by firelight and smoke. brent had been hauling wood for a while, judging by the state of his shirt and the sweat at his temple. the son of zeus sighed under his breath, the kind of sound that came from equal parts fondness and concern and bent to lift one of the heavier logs before the boy could protest.

“you planning on building olympus itself, or just the bonfire?” he asked, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. the air crackled faintly around him, a hint of static in the cooling dark. “you don’t have to do all this alone, mijo. the feast’s not going anywhere.” he set the log down beside the others, brushing sawdust from his palms. “you’ve done enough for three demigods already,” he added, voice softer now. “come on. let’s leave some of this for tomorrow before you drop.” a pause, then, with a small smile, he hummed “or at least let me help you.”

speedsterborn

As typical for the son of Hermes, he found ways to keep himself busy and release the ample amounts of energy in his body. Winter was around the corner, which meant they’d all be greeted with even colder weather soon. And whilst Brent knew the cabins were magical and could produce heat, he decided to chop some wood in case the campers still wanted to make use of their fireplaces. Brent originally intended to stop before lunch, but before he knew it a huge pile of lumber had been erected. He moved fast and efficiently. But perhaps a little too well.

Brent hadn’t noticed the signs of fatigue settling in before his breathing became a bit heavier than normal. He was gasping for air at this point when a giant log was picked up and hauled away from him. The redhead smiled as he saw Raul standing there and lending a hand. “Had enough for a bonfire hours ago. I just kept going…” A deep inhale to steady himself and he was back in tip top shape. At least, so Brent thought. He had a habit of hyper-fixating on certain tasks and believing rest was for the wicked. “Right, I think it’ll last us through winter.” Brent chuckled and coughed a bit before following the older half-blood back to the cabins. “How’ve you been, sir? I missed our little dinners together.”

#brent & raul #raul.02

gifts for the goddesses | self | 🌾🔥💍

It was a strange transition going from growing up with atheist values to now frequently visiting a temple full of multiple deities. Brent always rejected the concept of a higher being ruling over all on earth. Nearly everyone in his hometown dedicated their lives to worshiping the Christian God. He and his mother simply didn't want to be treated like sheep in the fold. And whilst Brent still couldn't fathom relying on some divine entity so deeply, he came to realize the importance of faith and belief.

He often stopped by to place offerings beneath the statue of Hermes, to show thanks and praises for everything the divine messenger has done for him. Today however, Brent arrived with a totally different purpose in mind. He gave a gracious bow to his father before walking over to another section of the temple.

Dressed more modestly this time around, he knelt in front of Demeter's giant statue. Brent looked up at the goddess with humble reverence and began to place several offerings at her feet. A fine brioche loaf, baked fresh from a locale bakery. Dried wheat stalks, which represented Demeter's sovereignty over agriculture. Lastly, a signature jar of newly harvested honey. Hands clasped together, Brent closed his eyes to utter a small prayer. "Lady Demeter, I give you my gratitude in abundance for everything you've done for us. My mother and I are forever in your debt. I humbly ask you bless our farm with a bountiful harvest in the coming year." Brent couldn't help the smile from gracing his lips as he thought about one of her children. "And thank you... for allowing Briar to be part of my life."

Without waiting for a physical response like he would when asking his father for something, Brent got up and moved on to the next statue. The speedster showed the same level of respect and praise to Hestia as he did her younger sister. On the pedestal at her feet, he set a few unique offerings associated with the hearth keeper. Three corked vials, each with a different herb. One contained rosemary. The other, basil. And lastly, parsley. Of course, Brent didn't forget about the jar of fresh honey as well. He took a deep breath before starting his prayer. "Lady Hestia, I thank you for keeping my mother and I safe inside the walls of our home. For decades, you've protected us from harm. I ask you continue to do so not only to me and my family, but to the other demigods here as well. Watch over us, please." Brent sighed, knowing he shouldn't harbor secrets or ill feelings towards a goddess and her children. They see and know all, as far as he's concerned. "Your son and I aren't in the best of terms at the moment. We don't exactly show love in the same way, and that's forcing us apart. If I'm being honest, there's a chance I won't ever want to be with him anymore. I hope you can forgive me for my decisions moving forward."

After a heavy and tense prayer, Brent made his way to the final goddess in his temple voyage. He smiled as the regal visage of Hera's statue graced him with her divine presence. Brent practiced a few hours earlier and gave a proper royal bow to the Empress of the Heavens. Satisfied with his performance, he knelt down to present the last remaining gifts to her. Brent didn't have the means to procure a diadem or sparkling gems. However, he did find a unique crown-shaped candle holder in an antique shop. He then also offered a beautiful fan made of real peacock feathers. And who could forget the third and final jar of fresh honey? "Queen Hera, I come to you today with a personal request." Brent swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to say. "I've accepted the dangers of this new life I'm in. At any point, I could die at the hands of our enemies." The speedster bit his bottom lip and sighed softly. "But before that happens... can you make sure I find true love and get married? I want a family of my own. A big one. I'd love if my mother gets grandchildren... maybe like twenty or so? I'll entrust the amount to you, just please grant me my prayer in the near future."

With that, Brent packs up his empty messenger bag and began to leave the temple. He briefly glanced at the newly erected shrine dedicated to Ganymede and curiously approached before deciding to turn back around. Nice try, Kay! Brent wasn't planning on getting zapped by a jealous Zeus anytime soon. He said his piece to three goddesses and hoped at least one if not all of them hear him out.

#speedy prayer

taylorthetargaryen

KJ Apa

#speedy narcissism

Halloween Costume: The Killer from Scream

"Please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface. I wanna be in the sequel!"

Halloween is the one night a year a boy can dress like a total slut and nobody can say anything about it. Brent has developed quite the habit of showing skin lately. No harm in displaying the goods. Dripping down the Ghostface mask is fake blood, for anyone who may want to lick the killer's victims off his exposed body. Or perhaps to attract any fanged-tooth hotties interested in sinking their teeth into him.

#heartsonghq ( prompt 008)#speedy narcissism

samsonofapollo

@speedsterborn location: the forest notes: october event

Truthfully, Samson didn’t have the best track record with the forest but it had been a few months since the last time he’d gotten lost out here. Of those that were no longer with him, it was out in the forest that he felt his most connected with at least one. Sat against a tree, the camera that Samson had purchased perched neatly on his pulled in knees, he scrolled through the photos that he and Adrian had taken together. There was a smile, then the end of the film. It shouldn’t be in his nature to dwell on the past, and yet, the past seemed to be everywhere he looked lately.

Those who left, those who’d been cursed - they were meant to be stronger now - but Samson felt more powerless than ever. To be certain, he was a light that never went out, but he flickered from time to time.

As the forest curled around him, shadows growing longer, there was a creeping sensation that ran up his spine. Something akin to being watched, but when he looked up, he only saw someone just coming through the treeline. “Brent -” They’d texted… briefly, but beyond that Samson couldn’t say he knew him particularly well, “I uh-” he flushed, spine still tingling before he looked around the small clearing - eyes scanning the misty trees. “Do you ever feel like something’s following you? Not like… hunted,” that was for the bedroom, “just like, waiting? I haven’t been able to shake the feeling all day that something’s watching me.”

speedsterborn

The only time Brent ever found himself in the forest was during the day. He’d dare not leave the comfort of his cabin, much less wander around after the sunset. Too many unspoken dangers lurked around every corner. And whilst he felt reasonably protected at camp, one could never be too careful. From what he’s heard, not all the restless spirits wandering around this time of the year were necessarily friendly towards the living. Fortunately, Brent has yet to encounter a malevolent specter or poltergeist. But with Halloween swiftly approaching, that may all change.

Brent ignored the voices and hushed whispers all trying to draw his attention as he continued walking. He quickly picked up the pace, carrying an armful of freshly plucked small pumpkins to carve on the way back to his cabin. Ahead, he noticed another demigod walking the opposite direction. “Samson, right?” Brent recognized the other half-blood from a brief conversation they had a while ago. Whilst not the most insightful in the mix, he noticed how uneasy Samson appeared to be. He sighed and nodded his head. “I know the feeling a little too well. Especially these past few days.”

A free arm was thrown over Samson’s shoulder as they walked together in tandem. “The Hades kids and Stephanos said spirits are a lot more active with Halloween approaching. They won’t hurt you, though. At least, that’s been my experience.” He didn’t want to freak Samson out, but the feeling of being watched resonated deep with the red head.

#brent & samson #samson.01

taylorthetargaryen

KJ Apa

#speedy narcissism

Prayer to Daddy Hermes

Staring at his reflection in the mirror, Brent thought he looked absolutely ridiculous. The merchant he bought his outfit from definitely made it shorter and tighter around certain areas on purpose. He doubted the Greeks wore such skimpy clothing back in the day, but finding traditional garb surprisingly proved a lot harder than expected. The sandals weren't very comfortable, either. Brent much preferred sneakers. He looked more like a thotty frat boy on his way to a college toga party than a devoted servant of the gods. Alas, Brent had to make do with what was available to him and headed straight to the temple.

On the way there, he repeatedly tugged the hem further down in an attempt at concealing his soft cock. The autumn wind blew between his legs several times, resulting in a few Marilyn Monroe moments. It was then Brent realized he probably should have worn underwear. Although, he was fairly certain the ancient Greeks went commando so putting on boxers defeated the whole purpose.

Upon reaching the steps leading up, he took a deep breath and began to approach. Brent adjusted the laurel crown atop his head, one of the newest rewards he received from the quest in Athens. It tied his outfit perfectly and should aid in the trials ahead. The redhead made his way over to the statue of his father. Slung over his shoulder, a leather messenger bag containing various offerings. “Hey, dad…” Another inhale followed by a lengthy exhale. “I suppose I should get down on my knees, now. Please don’t ask me to sit. I’m literally butt ass naked.” As Brent knelt, he shook his head and forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

He laid out the offerings on the feet of his father’s statue. Apparently, Hermes liked citrus fruit to symbolize his vitality and role as a messenger. Brent plucked the freshest looking lemon and orange he could find to give. And like most gods, Hermes enjoyed honey. Brent presented the divine envoy with an ornate glass bottle containing the syrupy golden substance. Lastly, the leather messenger bag he used to hold everything was surrendered as well.

“I’ll be the first to admit this feels weird. I’m your son, dressed like a slut… kneeling in front of you.” He let out a defeated laugh. “But if you can ignore how I look and listen for a bit, I’d really appreciate it.” His eyes travelled upward to meet the frozen statue’s gaze. “I need to get stronger somehow. My speed isn’t enough. I failed to save a friend the other day, just because I couldn’t register what was happening around me in time.” He still blamed himself for Elian’s death until now. The child of witchcraft would still be among them had Brent only paid attention to the events in the battlefield.

“Please. I want to protect them. Can you help me be more perceptive? Strengthen my mental fortitude. Stop my brain from wandering in all different directions and focus on what's important.” Brent closed his eyes and clasped both hands together, letting himself settle in the silence in the temple. Drowning all distractions and quieting the storms of his mind, he attempted to make a connection with the divine.

#speedy prayer #heartsong: prayer

taylorthetargaryen

KJ Apa

#speedy narcissism

scalesworn

@speedsterborn

the nemesis cabin had been transformed into something warmer than its usual sharp lines and marble glow. a blanket was draped over the couch, soda bottles lined neatly on the low table, and the faint buttery smell of popcorn hung in the air. brent was already curled up under one of the many blankets cian had dumped on the couch, looking perfectly at home, while the television screen hummed quietly with a paused menu.

from the small kitchen, cian emerged with a bowl that was comically too large, both arms wrapped around it like it weighed a ton. his hoodie sleeves slipped over his hands as he carried it, a grin tugging at his mouth at the sight of brent settled there waiting.

“nearly lost me life to the pot, but it’s done,” he announced, dropping the bowl on the table with a flourish. popcorn nearly spilled over the rim, mountains of it threatening to cascade. “figured, after yesterday, we earned the biggest bowl in the whole of camp.”

he flopped down beside brent, tugging the blanket across his own lap, shoulder bumping gently into his. “alright—rations secured, blankets in place… mission accomplished, yeah?” his grin softened as he settled deeper into the cushions, eyes flicking to brent for a moment longer than needed before he grabbed a fistful of popcorn. “time t'watch someone else save the world for once.”

speedsterborn

Surviving an encounter with a Titan with nary a scratch wasn’t what Brent imagined would happen during his first quest. He expected to be a lot more beat up, possibly even awake in the infirmary. But no such tragedy occurred. In fact, they were able to rescue Icarus and complete the mission with little to no casualties. His teammates handled the cyclops and guardians perfectly. He even heard about Elian stripping the Warden of his access to divinity, a wondrous and terrifying feat which yielded incredible results for them. In the end, they all returned to camp safely. Even impressing Hyperion in the process.

After a long flirting session with Icarus on the Pegasus ride home, he walked the winged cutie back to his father. Brent allowed the two to catch up and made a stop at one of the cabins to catch up with another new friend. Luckily, the son of Nemesis appeared more than pleased to have company over. Walking inside, he found a comfortable spot to cozy up on while Cian made popcorn in the kitchen. Brent wrapped a blanket around himself and put a couple of pillows behind to support his back. He eagerly waited for the other half-blood to return and smiled brightly upon seeing the giant bowl ready for them to devour. “If the pot doesn’t kill you, the amount of butter clogging our arteries after this will.” He laughed and pulled Cian closer to him, throwing an arm over for snuggling purposes.

Brent began to dig in as well, holding back any kind of decorum as he munched on the crunchy treat. “They make it look so easy in the movies.” Saving the world was a lot harder and took way longer than mere two hours of screen time. Hollywood actors also didn’t have to fight actual monsters and primordial entities hell bent on reclaiming the universe. “Clash of the Titans. Nice. Seeing Perseus in a loin cloth was one my gay awakenings. Should have known right then and there that I liked men, too.” He laughed to the point of snorting, spilling some popcorn onto the floor.

#cian.01 #brent & cian

divineholdings

raúl let out a quiet laugh, soft, almost like a rumble of distant thunder, setting the spoon aside. he leaned back against the counter, arms folded loosely, watching brent with a faint, steady warmth. “ah, chico… i get it,” he said carefully. “camp’s full of… people seeing more than one heart at a time. some of them, anyway. it’s not bad, it’s just how it is. noisy hearts, all over the place.” the answer is .... you don't. though he'd never tell him that.

he thought about it for a moment, about the way he’d seen it—how feelings tangled, how some boys flitted between each other like sparks in a storm. he hadn’t judged, hadn’t dismissed anyone, but he understood brent’s frustration. wanting someone to see only you in a place like this? it was brave. it was hard.

he stepped closer, resting a hand on brent’s shoulder. his touch was steady, grounding, not heavy. “but listen,” he said softer now, eyes meeting brent’s, “if you want someone to care for you—and only you—the only thing you can really do is be yourself. fully, honestly. show them who you are, not who you think they want.”

his thumb brushed briefly against brent’s shoulder, then lingered. “and if they see you, truly, they’ll choose you. and if they don’t…” he gave a small shrug, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “that’s their loss, not yours.”

he looked down at the pan for a moment, stirring the herbs, listening to the faint sizzle and the low rumble of the storm outside. “i can’t promise it’ll be easy. i can’t even promise i know exactly how it works,” he admitted, glancing back. he's not found it yet himself. before coming here, he hadn't been looking and now… well, he was here. “but wanting it, hoping for it—that’s not wrong. and that… that’s something to hold onto. don't settle for any less, alright?”

speedsterborn

At first, he was slightly disheartened to hear Raul laugh at his woes. Then again, Brent was being quite juvenile for complaining about such matters so he couldn’t exactly blame him. But then the explanation hit, and a little bit of dare he say relatability from Raul’s end? The way the other demigod spoke about the subject showed a sense of familiarity. As if he experienced something similar. Brent began to feel better already, knowing he wasn’t weird for thinking that way when everyone else at camp shared the same polyromantic views. “They’re all just so damn horny for each other…” Brent playfully rolled his eyes and chuckled. As if he was any different these past few weeks.

Noisy hearts indeed. The moment Brent falls for one guy; he hears about their escapades with another. The process kept repeating until he eventually had enough. It wasn’t a good feeling and left a huge pit in his stomach. “I understand everyone here is insanely attractive and sex is inevitable. But I’m not sure I want to be part of the hookup culture.” Coming from a more traditional background with run-of-the-mill values, he simply couldn’t see the appeal in multiple romantic partners. Brent doubted he ever will. He sighed and put the knife away before any more innocent vegetables got hurt. “It’s a good thing we’re apparently immune to human diseases, so nobody is passing the clap around.” Brent tried to sound jokingly, but he only ended up voicing his frustrations even further.

“If I was enough for them… they wouldn’t need to seek out another. Why even think about a different guy when I’m right here? Ready to give my all.” The son of Hermes was thinking out loud at this point. Questions Brent’s been having for several days, he was now asking the thunder bringer. “Also, I promise I’m not slut shaming anyone. I just really want to be cute and romantic with my person.”

Brent looked at the hand on his shoulders and turned to give the other half-blood a big smile. “Thanks for putting things into perspective for me. I swear I didn’t go to you just to complain about boys.” His mother was a great listener and gave great advice to him during times like these. However, she wasn’t here and having a masculine figure do the same helped a great deal. Brent beamed brightly at the sounds produced by the sizzling in the pan. Raul’s cooking was incredible. He vowed to be of actual help in the kitchen when next they hung out. “Um… feel free to tell me it’s none of my business. But have you fallen for anyone at camp?” Brent often liked to be in the know of things. A drawback for being the son of the Messenger God, he was sure.

#raul.01 #brent & raul

nephayvms

˙ ˖ ✶ Brent

Life at camp had suddenly become a whirlwind of new faces, and now bonds were being forged left and right. Brent came into his life at the speed of light, a sunbeam in human form, and it meant nothing but endless smiles for Ziggy. From their little scrimmage, he could tell that Brent would be ready, but it would require a bit more getting used to combat. He found it funny how, now of all times, he reminisced about when he used to be the latest arrival and how challenging it was for him at times to get used to everything.

The past few days were spent cooking for Brent, ensuring he got all he needed for a speedy recovery, and it was probably just a way for the two to just spend more time together. Ziggy fell into a domestic routine with his friend, even going so far as to do the man's laundry, and having everything neat and proper in the cabin. It felt nice, being able to do just the simple things.

"No offense taken, and I was getting tired of it too, so a pot pie it is. Anything specific in your request, or do you just want the basic recipe?" he asked, giggling as the man kissed the tip of his cock. "I keep forgetting to wear clothes around you, but that's for the best since you seem to enjoy tearing them off of me regardless...but I will say, head every morning, and riding you, and then cracking your back has been nice. It feels nice to see you leaking my cum for a change," he grinned.

There was something else he was meaning to say, but it would have to wait after the kiss. Slowly, he leaned, pulling Brent closer as he closed the gap between them. "Will, never get tired of that, but before I just end up kissing you all day, I have a gift for you," he mused.

Hopping off the bed to get the handle of the sun blade he had bought weeks prior. It was an item he couldn't use, an item not meant for him, but it felt right to buy it at the time, and it was perfect for Brent.

"This is the sun blade, it just looks like a hilt, but if you've seen star wars, it's practically a light saber. You should have it, I want you to have it. I bought it a while back, thought it looked cool but realized I couldn't use it, and I was trying to find a reason as to why I bought it in the first place, but my guess is...I think I was meant to give this to someone special,"

speedsterborn

Back home, the worst injury Brent received was a sprain ankle from missing his footing during a track meet. He didn’t get hurt very often, if at all. Usually, he was nimble and quick enough to avoid most accidents. He’s never even broken a bone. So, it was almost ironic for him to get knocked unconscious during a sparring match by non-physical attacks. Ziggy hit like a damn truck, and he barely lifted a finger the whole time. Brent was admittedly embarrassed he lost, knowing most of the camp was probably watching. Something told him that wouldn’t be the last he’d face defeat in the hands of the more magically inclined demigods.

But losing wasn’t all that bad. His head still throbbed, and he couldn’t see properly for a good while. However, Ziggy was a very effective nurse who helped him recover in the span of a couple days. Brent enjoyed their time together, feeling quite taken care of by the other half-blood. He’s never felt so domesticated before, often scolding Ziggy for doing chores around the cabin and expressing his appreciation shortly after. “You really are your mother’s son. I feel bad having you tend to me like a fifty’s housewife, though.”

Brent chuckled and began putting his shirt back on. Spending a few days naked was fun, but he wanted to do some work around camp. “Aha! So, that’s the reason you beat me up.” Clearly he was teasing, but the thought did cross his mind about Ziggy’s true intentions. He returned the sweet kiss, biting Ziggy’s bottom lip gently as they both pulled away. The redhead watched curiously as the son of Hera shuffled out of bed and retrieved what looked to be the ornate hilt of a sword. He listened carefully to Ziggy describe how the sword worked and was in utter shock to hear it’s a gift for him.

Unashamed of his nerd side, of course Brent has seen Star Wars. He could quote every line in the original movies. “You sure about giving this to me? My dad’s Hermes, not Apollo…” Brent was flattered, that much could be ascertained. However, part of him wasn’t sure about accepting such a magnificent gift when other more capable fighters at camp would put the sword to good use.

#ziggy.01 #brent & ziggy

divineholdings

@speedsterborn

the storm had been grumbling all evening, low and lazy, as if zeus himself was dozing on the horizon. the cabin smelled faintly of rain and rosemary, the windows fogged from the warmth of the oven. raúl moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, sleeves rolled, a dish towel slung over one shoulder. across the counter, the hermes boy perched on a stool, knife in hand, pretending to focus on chopping tomatoes but… not really.

“you’re crowding the board, chico,” he said after a moment, not unkind, tilting his head toward the mess of vegetables between them. a smile tugged faintly at his mouth, more amused than stern. “give the tomatoes room to breathe, or we’ll end up with salsa instead of salad.”

he brushed a handful of herbs into the pan, the sizzle filling the pause. it wasn’t really about the food—hadn’t been for a while now—but about giving him somewhere to talk, somewhere to land. raúl leaned against the counter, wiping his hands on the dish towel slung over his shoulder, and nodded toward him. “so,” he prompted gently, “you gonna tell me what’s got you hacking away at innocent vegetables, or do i have to guess?”

speedsterborn

Just about everybody at camp knew how to cook in one form or another. Wanting to learn how to do more than just pour milk over cereal, Brent enlisted the help of another half-blood to improve his skills in the kitchen. In actuality, he should have asked a son of Hestia or even the Hera kids for lessons. However, he knew Raul was plenty capable for the job. He's been meaning to spend time with the storm bringer, anyways. Raul has proven to be an exceptional paternal figure to be with.

Assigned with the task of slicing the vegetables, Brent gladly obliged and got to work. Not even a minute in, he found his mind drifting elsewhere. Thoughts of recent events and findings caused him to get a bit distracted. It wasn't long until Raul noticed and commented on how the tomatoes were starting to look like a crime scene from a movie. "Ah, damn." He rolled his eyes and groaned, shooting the son of Zeus an apologetic look. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make a mess."

Brent salvaged whatever vegetables he could and tossed the rest into the trash. The son of Hermes wasn't one to waste food, but doubted anyone wanted to eat the produce he just massacred. He stayed quiet for a bit, reluctant about discussing such childish nonsense with Raul. But then he remembered the other half-blood being a safe place for him in so many different ways. "Raul... how do you get a boy to like you?" He looked at the storm bringer and elaborated a bit further with his question. "And only you?"

#raul.01 #brent & raul

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