Day 6: Songs / Gods
OctaBryThanBaster (Octavian x Bryce x Ethan x Alabaster) but this just features Ethan and Bryce
Word count - 2767
@them-awesome-rarepairs
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Standing in a snowy corner of Central Park, Ethan shifted on his feet and heard the snow crunch under his heavy boots. “And you’re sure this will work?” he asked of the boy standing next to him.
Bryce cast him a sidelong smirk that showed off his long canines. “What? Don’t you trust me?”
Ethan frowned. “I’m standing in front of a pile of rocks with a guitar, in order to sneak into the Underworld. Forgive me if I’m a little sceptical.”
Bryce hooked his arm over Ethan’s shoulders and brought him in close; messing up his hair with a loose fist. “I always do. And if it all goes even further to Tartarus than it already is, just remember it was your boyfriend’s idea.”
With a huff, Ethan rolled his eye but made no attempt to dislodge himself from the crook of Bryce’s elbow. “He’s your boyfriend too.”
“Eh, you had him first.” It was a decent perk of having a son Hecate as a boyfriend. Instead of taking one of the less pleasant and more permanent ways of ending up in the Underworld, Ethan could just get Al to point him in the direction of the Musical Rocks route. Bryce used his hold on him to tug him up the snowy path to the big pile of boulders that was supposed to take him to the Underworld. Ethan straightened his back as much as he could under Bryce’s weight and tried not to look too nervous. It was only hell. And he only had to play a little ditty on the guitar to get there.
When they were but a few feet from the stones, Bryce stopped and removed his thick winter coat to lay it over the snow like a picnic blanket. “What are you doing?” Ethan asked, a few steps of legibility away from a groan.
Bryce sat cross-legged on the blanket like an eager elementary schooler in circle time, and beamed up at him. “Getting us a comfortable spot for the show. Won’t you join me?”
“We won’t both fit on that.”
“You can sit on my lap.” Bryce leaned back and patted his thigh while Ethan frowned at him with an unimpressed look. “I’m not joking,” he said, smile growing wider. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
Ethan held the guitar up by the fretboard, feeling a little like a butcher hoisting an animal carcass by the ankle. “I barely know how to use this thing.”
“I’ll help.” All the logical parts of his brain were telling Ethan to throw the guitar in Bryce’s face and stomp back to Mt Othrys. He could face whatever consequences Kronos wanted to throw at him later. But the other parts of his brain, his body as well, looked at Bryce’s stupid, goofy smile and got snagged on his hook, begging to be reeled in. Ethan heard his boots crunching over the snow and before he knew it, he was indeed tucking himself into Bryce’s embrace and relishing in the soft heat of his hands on his hips while they got themselves comfortable.
Taking stock of exactly what he was doing, Ethan tipped back against Bryce’s chest with a defeated sigh, still rigidly tense. “I’m serenading a pile of boulders so I can go to hell, while sitting in my boyfriend’s lap like a child.”
“Underworld,” Bryce corrected, and before Ethan could elbow him in the ribs added, “And does it count as serenading if you don’t use your voice?”
“Don’t care, didn’t ask.” Ethan twisted around and hefted the guitar in his hands. “Now what do I do with this?”
Bryce’s chuckles reverberated into Ethan while he raised his hands to his boyfriend’s. He took a gentle hold of Ethan’s left wrist and guided his right hand up to the fretboard, resting each of his fingers on the equivalent on Ethan’s hand. Leaning forward, he propped his chin up on Ethan’s shoulder, which looked a little ridiculous given that Bryce was almost a foot taller and had a good few inches on Ethan, even with him perched on his thighs.
“Just follow my lead,” Bryce said. His lips were close enough that his warm breath tickled Ethan’s cheek and forced the blood to rush to his face. He really should have come alone. With Bryce here, there wouldn’t be any blood left in his hands to keep his fingers moving across the strings.
“What will we play?” he asked.
Bryce hummed to himself before a wicked smirk cut across his face. “Pick at the ready,” he ordered and Ethan fought back a groan. He did as he was told while Bryce arranged his fingers on the cords and steadied Ethan’s other hand in preparation for the strumming. “Keep your wrist loose and follow my lead.” He rocked his hand to move the pick pinched between Ethan’s fingers up and down the strings. He didn’t recognise the first few notes as they adjusted to the arrangement but after they got the hang of it–
“Is this fucking American Pie?” He tipped his head back and tried to grumble through his grin. “It’s so long!”
“And we’ll love every second!”
As much as Ethan wanted to kick him in the shins and smash the guitar against the rocks, he couldn’t easily prove him wrong. Growing up, Ethan always got told he had his dad’s taste in music and he supposed there was some truth in that. Older songs were just fun to him. And Bryce, the asshole that he was, knew it. He knew guitars much better than Ethan and although he gave it a valiant try, he wasn’t quite good enough to make up for his co-player’s lack of experience. Ethan tried to follow his right hand on the cords as close as he could but a lot of the cord changes were too fast for him to keep up, often making their strums hit at the wrong time and sending discordant wails echoing from the instrument.
Bryce didn’t seem at all dismayed. His dopey smile didn’t falter for a second while he nodded his head or tapped his foot to the time they were supposed to be keeping. Every time Ethan cringed at a sour note, Bryce chirped, “Don’t worry, we have plenty of time to get the hang of it!”
And, gods damn him, they did. Sort of, but it was better than how they started. The song had its repetitive parts and Ethan started anticipating when to put his fingers where, which stopped the chord changes from being a flailing mess of digits getting tangled up together. It went from sounding like a mangled dirge to something almost passable as a functional song. With Bryce’s soothing presence, it even started to become a little relaxing. Ethan’s rod-straight back eventually softened as he allowed himself to lean into Bryce and his warmth; a gentle shield against the brisk cold.
“Bryce,” Ethan murmured under his breath, watching as it froze into a small cloud before him, “Do you think the Underworld gods like music?”
“I think everyone likes music to some degree,” he answered, not taking his eyes off the guitar or his hands off of Ethan’s.
“I mean more than usual,” he said. “More than the other gods.”
Briefly, Bryce flicked his eyes up to Ethan’s. “I’ve never thought about it. Why?”
“Just the entrances. The LA entrance to the Underworld is a record label and this one opens with music. I know it’s because of Orpheus, but it was his music that cut his path to the Underworld and charmed the gods into letting him try to get Eurydice back. I just thought there might be something to it.”
“That’s . . .” Bryce leaned his head closer to Ethan’s and the lengthening tips of his shaggy hair brushed against his face, “An interesting point, actually.”
“Actually?”
“You know what I mean.” Bryce nudged him with a shoulder. “To be honest, I’ve never really given it much thought. Underworld gods and songs, that is.”
Neither had Ethan until about five minutes ago. “Do you think it’s like a ‘chicken and the egg’ scenario?” he asked, and at the look of bewilderment crossing Bryce’s face, he clarified, “Maybe the connection stems from Orpheus’ influence or maybe Orpheus only had influence because of the connection?”
“Well,” Bryce said as he teased a softer melody from the guitar. The way his deft fingers worked their magic across the board was almost mesmerising. Ethan could have watched it all day. “They are Underworld gods, right?”
“Yeah. What does that have to do with songs?”
“Think about it.” Bryce shrugged. “They’re all a bunch of ancient, immortal beings doomed to spend an eternity surrounded by death. Everything just stays exactly as stale and dead as it’s been for the past several thousand years. It’s all stagnant.”
They were getting to Bryce’s favourite part of the song and his hands started moving faster with firm intent but Ethan wasn’t paying much attention. He was too busy trying and failing to work out Bryce’s logic in his head. “You’re losing me.”
Bryce snorted a laugh that hummed through Ethan’s back. “Songs are art,” he said, emphasising each word in time to the beat. “They’re inherently reflective of when they’re made, so they’re changing all the time.” A smirk slanted up his face. “In New Rome and Camp Jupiter, they liked to emulate the ancient Romans as much as they could. But we’re not ancient Romans, and it shows in everything except the latin.”
“So,” Ethan drawled as his hands tried desperately to keep up with Bryce’s effortless movements, “You think the Underworld gods like music because everything is the same down there but songs are always changing?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” His strumming thankfully started slowing as the song began winding down to the last few repeats of the chorus. His hair kept falling in his eyes but he didn’t seem to take much note of it. “If I was a god living in the Underworld, the only people I’d ever let in were the people who could handle a melody.”
“Would you make them all play for you?”
“Probably. That’s the nature of godhood, right?” He slashed the pick down the strings. “Mortals like us are just entertainment to them.”
“Oh?” Ethan glanced over his shoulder at Bryce’s face, trusting him to carry on the tune on his own. “Rather dissenting for a Roman.”
“Well, you’re rather obedient for a Greek,” he huffed under his breath.
Ethan stiffened and sharpened his look at Bryce. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Bryce sagged with a sigh, but his hands didn’t skip a beat as they kept plucking the last few melancholy notes from the strings. “She doesn’t love you, you know,” he said, making Ethan stiffen even further against him. “She’s a goddess. It’s in her nature to use you. You’ll never be anything but a resource to her.”
The ending of the song drifted on the air and before Ethan could snap back, a deep rumbling drew his attention to the mound of rocks before him. The thin layer of frost coating them was shaken off to drift to the ground as the old stones grinded against each other. As if a knife had been stabbed into it, a long, thin slice of blackness appeared gouged into the surface and widened from its tapered tip to a flat bottom. The rumbling stopped, and Ethan felt Bryce’s hand grip tighter onto his.
They sat in silence as they assessed the triangular crevice that appeared where the boulders used to be. A serpentine shiver snaked its way down Ethan’s spine and curled up into an uneasy knot in the pit of his stomach. The scent of mildew and rot drifted from the open passage to assault his senses and give him harsh reminders of his time in the labyrinth a few months ago.
Instead of getting up or shoving Ethan off, Bryce let his fingers trail further down the inside of Ethan’s wrist and forearm. “You know–”
“If you’re going to tell me that I don’t have to do this, and that it’s too dangerous, and that I’d be much better off if I just ran away with you to hide until this war blows over–” He cast him a dull look over his shoulder “–Save your breath. We’ve been over this.”
He watched Bryce transform before his eye. “She doesn’t deserve your help.” His voice cut like a knife, his eyes narrowed into pointed shards and all the softness he’d enveloped Ethan in for the past several dozen minutes had been instantly chipped away to form a serrated edge.
Ethan set the guitar on the ground beside them. “That’s not for you to decide.” He got up to go but Bryce wrapped his arms around his waist, keeping him down and pressed against him. “Bryce!” Ethan snapped. He couldn’t wriggle his way out of Bryce’s grasp so he twisted around in his lap to face him and shut up any protest working its way to Bryce’s lips with a militant glare. “You have no right to tell me what I can or can’t do for my people. Not when you’re no better.”
Bryce’s head snapped up and his eyes locked onto Ethan. “Excuse me?”
His arms had loosened so Ethan took the opportunity to haul himself to his feet, looking down at his boyfriend. “What’s Orcus ever done for you? Or the legion, for that matter? And yet you still defend them, you’ve never considered joining the army and you’d kiss their boots in a heartbeat. You have no ground to stand on when it comes to me and my mother.”
“That’s completely different.” Bryce braced his hands on his knees and hunched forward. Even sitting on the ground with his head craned back to look up at Ethan, he still appeared as if he was looking down his nose at Ethan. Probably from being so used to being the tall one. “You don’t see me running around doing errands for them.”
“You would if they asked you.”
“What’s that got to do with this?” Bryce demanded.
Ethan didn’t care for his deflections. “If the legion came for you right now and offered you a place with them, would you take it?” Bryce didn’t answer. Not verbally. But Ethan watched the shameful drop of his head and the way he let his hair fall like a curtain before his eyes, shielding them from view. “See?” Ethan said. “We’re both servile little mortals.”
“It’s–” His voice broke. “It’s not easy, being an exile.”
Ethan sighed. “I know.” He was well acquainted with that kind of lifestyle.
Bryce flicked his eyes up to meet Ethan’s. “But you’ve never asked me to join the army.”
“It’s not easy being in the army, either.”
Bryce opened his mouth as if to snap a retort, but his eyes skipped past Ethan to the yawning mouth of the cave before them and wisely shut his trap. Ethan turned around, taking a deep breath to steady himself, and started walking towards the entrance.
The snow crunched behind him and in an instant he was facing Bryce again, his wrist clenched in his hand. His eyes were wide and desperation was etched into every line of his face. “If you don’t come back–”
“You’ll what?” Ethan cut in and arched a brow at his boyfriend. “Kill me?”
“No,” he huffed. His shoulders sagged and for a moment Ethan thought he was about to let go and send him on his merry way down to hell. He didn’t do that. Instead, he tugged him forward by his wrist and enveloped him in a hug. “Just remember that I know how to get down there too.”
Bryce’s body was a bastion of warmth and Ethan couldn’t help but bury his face in his chest, savouring it in case he’d never get to feel it again. “Yeah,” he murmured against him. “I won’t forget.”
Bryce pressed a shallow kiss to his forehead and stepped back. His lips were quivering but he forced them into a smile nonetheless. “I’ll see you soon,” he said. “And if I don’t, you can tell Hades and Persephone to expect the concert of an unlifetime.”
Ethan gave Bryce’s hand a quick squeeze. “I’ll pass it along.” This time, when Ethan turned to leave, Bryce didn’t stop him. He could still feel his eyes on his back and when he stepped into the shadow of the dark cave, he held Bryce’s warmth close to his chest; his shield against the surrounding cold.
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