"Now try not to scream your head off, eh, Kiku? We don't want to bring the whole world back in here, now do we?"

Alfred's words received a gasp in response, followed by a breathless giggle and the rustling of clothing. Soon smooching sounds and the brushing of skin were emanating from the door, open only a crack.

Heracles Karpusi stood just a foot to the left of said door, arms folded, face contorted into an uncharacteristically tight scowl. He could hear Kiku gasping and moaning faintly, as well as a slurping sound he knew was coming from whatever Alfred was doing to him. He didn't want to think about it; the sound alone churned his stomach. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to walk away. He stood silent as ever, listening to Kiku's moans gaining volume, forming words too vulgar for his perfect mouth, and becoming the name of the man Heracles knew was defiling his body.

Disgusting. It was pure filth, the things they were doing on that table in that room. Alfred had no right to touch the skin he'd once marred so badly, no right to kiss or embrace any part of Kiku's perfect body, and yet he was. Kiku'd just laid back, opened his legs, and swallowed the essence of the man who nearly took his life. Heracles felt his stomach lurch; he clenched his fists more tightly.

"A-ah! Alfred! God, please! Harder! Harder!

Heracles could feel the bile rising in his throat and he choked as he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He slid his arms around his abdomen, holding himself as if to keep his body together. He felt absolutely nauseated listening to the table lurch back and forth, listening to Alfred's dominant grunting and groaning overpowering Kiku's higher gasps and cries.

Finally, a long wail of ecstasy sounded out through the meeting hall, piercing the ears of the Greek and freeing a choking squeak. He collapsed into a squat, holding his body tightly and sobbing silently, listening to the panting of the finished panting of the couple inside.

"Alfred Jones…" he muttered through his tears, "…you should…die…"