Some kind of disclaimer:
As usually the characters don’t belong to me. *Sigh* They belong to RenPics.
And I'm not making any money on this either, dang.
Comments? Let me know on email@example.com
Subtext/Slash? Yes, but nothing big. I think you’ll survive.
Size? Nothing to brag about.
Weird? Oh yes.
A piece of parchment
By Linda "Silvermoon" Svensson
The tall warrior smiled down at the blond and was blessed with a smile in return. They stood so for a while, just feeling the warmth from each other’s bodies.
“So, what do you wanna do tonight?” the warrior asked, now more grinning then smiling.
“Oh, I don’t know. You had anything special in mind?” A naked arm had found its way to the warriors face and was now stroking away the dark hair from the blue eyes. “How do you make your hair smell like honey?” the blond asked smiling.
“Are you always thinking about food?”
“Not right now.” The arm had moved itself from the hair to the muscular arms.
“So, your not hungry then?”
“Not for food. But you know I’m always hungry for something.”
“Hm, you’re always talking too. Maybe this will keep you quiet.” The dark hair surrounded them both as the tall warrior gently leaned forward and made their lips meet in a passionate kiss.
”I can’t believe someone could write that about us!” Iolaus exclaimed still looking down on the piece of parchment he just moments ago had found on the ground.
“We don’t send out those kind of signals,” Hercules agreed, “do we?” he added unsure.
“No! We couldn’t… I mean, we don’t.” Iolaus didn’t sound as confident as he had planned. “But it couldn’t be anyone else, it fits to well…”
The tall man looked down at his friend and raised a questioning eyebrow. When Iolaus caught the motion he was quick to continue. “Not that. I mean the descriptions. Tall, dark warrior and short,” he made a face at the word, “blond. That’s us, no doubt about that.”
For a moment they just stood there, silent, pretending to be busy looking at anything except each other. Eventually Hercules felt that he had to say something to break the tension. “Well, my hair really is more brown than dark...”
“Yeah,” Iolaus quickly agreed. “And it doesn’t smell like honey either, it’s more like roses.” He paused when he saw the face of the man in front of him. “What?” The demigod remained quiet. “Herc, you’re looking at me strangely. What?!”
The names of lovers was not reviled during the writing of this story.
Return to Silvermoon's Scrolls or New Greeceland's heroes or Greklands hjältar.