Hindsight

Atrophy

Disclaimer: Xena and co. belong to Universal Studios and Renaissance Pictures. I just make them do somewhat suspect things.

*cough* I… um, don't ask. Please. I had something to prove to myself. In the end I failed. Had to rely on outside inspiration. -.- Sorry.
Edit: Sorry about all the emailing for anyone who has alerts set. Corrected a glaring spelling error. I was too embarrassed to have this one beta'd. ^

Ares was in one of his smaller temples when Xena found him.

He looked at her, puzzled, and he couldn't hear the sounds of the few priestesses hired at this temple rustling, pattering about on their nightly business, whatever that was. They usually occupied themselves polished his offerings, for all he knew.

Xena was looking at him strangely, the creases of a frown on her forehead and a dark kind of glint in her eyes.

He tried to grin, to recapture that hard-earned camaraderie he felt after that business with Varia and the Amazons, but it faltered when she winced.

"What's wrong?" he asked, baffled. His voice echoed, harsh and grating in the silence.

Xena's lips pursed, and she opened her mouth soundlessly a few times before settling on a wry smile. "Sorry. I can't explain, exactly."

"Then…"

Her fingers touched his lips then, chilled from the night air. "Please," she said.

He shivered, a nameless dread sinking into his bones.

"Please," she said again. "Just give me this."

"This?"

He stopped again. Oh gods. Her mouth was warm, opening up to his. She tilted her head up, lips and tongue moving slowly, testing, as she leaned heavily into him. He thought maybe he should be protesting. He should be careful with her. Something like this always came back to bite him on the ass, but she pushed her hands into his vest and his scattered thoughts fled like so many wisps of fog. His hands came up, fingers sliding through her hair and across her shoulder. He pressed back, a heavy, syrupy flush spreading from his belly, until he felt he must be bruising her mouth, teeth clacking together as he kissed her feverishly.

She pulled back suddenly, her lips plump and red, parted to let out ragged gasps for air. She must have noticed him grasping for a lucid thought because she smirked, bright and vicious, and shoved him hard.

Ares fought for his balance as the pushes continued, and he might have complained, but then the back of his knees caught an edge and he tumbled back onto his bed. He scowled, his legs hanging off the side in his undignified sprawl. She pushed again, and he lifted himself onto his elbows, flailing a bit with the rumpled folds of his bedding and pulled himself further onto the bed.

"You could have just asked, you know," Ares grumbled, eliciting a short chuckle he felt against his chest.

His breath hitched when he felt hands tugging at his belt. The rasp of leather against leather was followed by a soft clink of the clasp losing its grip, and he lifted his head to see her staring directly at him, eyes wide and challenging while belt and sword hit the ground with a thump. Her eyes never left his as she shifted, bringing her head down until her mouth could nuzzle him where he strained hard against his pants. He could feel the warmth of her breath through the leather.

Then she sat up again, moving forward to straddle his hips, and she leaned forward to kiss him again, the cold of her armour digging into his skin. He hissed and shifted a bit, but his attention kept getting diverted to the pressure of her mouth and her heady, dizzying scent. He barely noticed when a hand tugged his pants apart, but the sensation of a palm against his bare skin caused his hips to jerk hard. Fingers wrapped around him and squeezed lightly, stroking up and down his length as he felt her stretch back…

He hummed, looking up, and the sight of her eyes tightly screwed shut hit him like a punch.

He pushed and slipped against the silk under him. "Wait, wait!" he managed, struggling and slightly dislodging Xena. Her hand pulled away from him and braced against his chest.

"What?" she said testily.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Why are you questioning it?" she shot back. "Isn't this what you've always wanted? You were always hanging around like a puppy nipping at my heels and just making a nuisance—"

"Because I love you!" He surprised himself with the volume of his voice, and Xena flinched.

"And?" she said finally, quietly and coldly. "What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry?"

He surged up, catching a knee with his leg and flipping them over. He tangled their legs quickly and crushed his whole weight on her so she couldn't do the same. "Fuck you," he said, leaning into her face.

"Well, I was trying to, but—"

"Why are you doing this to me?" he raged. "I love you! You can't just—"

"Shut up!" she yelled. "Why can't you just shut up!"

"Oh, are my feelings making you uncomfortable? This turning into more than the quick fuck you were looking for? My deepest sympathies, really." Her eyes flashed like thunder, and he had to twitch aside hurriedly to avoid a jab to his side. He sighed. "Why can't you just be transparent with me for once and tell me what's going on instead of doing something you don't want?"

"The way you're transparent with me?"

He frowned. "Ow. That hurt. You know it's been a long time since I've messed with you."

Xena's eyes closed, and her armour pressed into him as she took a deep, shaky breath. "I do want this."

"What?"

"I want you. I want something for myself for once. Just once." She looked at him, her eyes catching in the lamp light and glowing.

"What do you mean 'just once'?"

"Ares." Her voice came out softly, with a pleading edge he'd never heard before. He loosened his grip, taken aback, but she didn't move at the chance, her arms draped laxly over his bed, pillowed against the loose black cloud of her hair.

She didn't look away from him in the silence.

"Okay," he breathed. "Okay, but will you give me something, too?"

She blinked. "Hmm?"

"Will you stay still?"

She looked puzzled, but allowed his hands to unhook her armour carefully and place it next to his sword belt. Next he slipped the leather straps off her shoulders, letting his fingers linger in the planes and hollows of her collar. The rest of the leather peeled away like a shed skin, leaving her exposed in the dim light of thick candles, chest heaving at his stare.

His fingertips explored, sliding almost without touching against the smoothness of her skin, past her ribs, skirting her breasts, and coming around to cup her face as she quivered with the struggle of not moving.

"What?" she whispered while he hovered over her.

"You're so beautiful," he said and pressed his mouth to hers gently before moving off and trailing down her jaw and throat.

His tongue first circled around a tightly pebbled nipple and then curled over it, and her hips rose and pushed into his. "Oi," he said mischievously. "I said stay still."

The look she gave him could have kept milk fresh for a week. He laughed, his mouth covering the second breast, and she bucked again.

"Do I have to tie you down?"

"Were you dropped on your head as a baby or something?" she said, punctuated by a gasp when his tongue hit a sensitive spot near the jutting bones in her hip.

He nosed carefully through the damp curls trailing off between her legs, brushed his nose with a finger at the tickling sensation, and leaned down to give her a long lick. She shot off the bed this time, a hand coming up and fingers digging into his scalp. He let her, even though a tuft of hair was snagged painfully, and held her hips down as he licked again.

Gods, she was so sensitive. Her thighs shook at each touch and swipe. He wrapped his tongue around the little nub and chuckled when she strained up, and the burst of expletives quickly turned into a quiet litany that sounded like his name. He carded a few fingers through the dark hair by his mouth, coming back wet and slick, and he slid one of those fingers into her, curling and thrusting into the heat.

She was squirming now. To get closer, to get away—he didn't think even she knew. He maintained the relentless rubbing and sucked—hard—and the hand she'd been biting flew away from her mouth as she cried out and clamped hard around his fingers. The sound shot down his body like fire.

She was shaking when he lifted his head and rubbed away the moisture clinging to his mouth, but her hand had loosened its grip in his hair, and she was looking at him with wild eyes as she reached out toward him, his name on her lips. It sounded good, he thought absently, leaning forward while her fingers dug into his arms. They slid down his stomach and tugged at his pants, still undone and half sagging. He obligingly lifted his hips and kicked off the fabric when the leather scraped down his legs.

The hands came back up, sinking into his hair and pulling him close for a hard kiss. He was shaking, too, he noticed, but then her hips tilted and he was inside her, sinking down until skin was flush against skin and her mouth pressed into the crook of his neck.

"Xena…" he heard himself say, and she pulled up his face and brushed her lips over his again and again.

"Now. I want— Now…" she murmured against his mouth, and kissed him as she wrapped her legs around him.

He rolled his hips and moved, bracing himself over her and trying to focus on the sensations at his mouth, at his groin, as his concentration broke again and again.

"Do you think about me?" he said like a fevered man rambles. "That time when you let me hold you in the field outside the Amazon village, I had to find an empty temple."

"Ah." Xena's hoarse voice sounded in his ear.

He gripped her side hard, pushing himself up so he could see her face. She was still looking at him, her face so beautiful and twisted and desperate.

"Ares," she said. "Oh, fuck. Ares…"

He watched her white-knuckled grip, clenching in the sheets, and he gasped what could have been a laugh, changing his angle and slamming himself down. There might have been a touch of pain in her yell, but she flung her hands up and grabbed him, urging him to do it again nonetheless. She bucked against him and pulled him down until he felt her skin slicking against his, the tightness and heat bringing him close—

She sank her teeth into his shoulder, cutting off a cry as she clenched all around him, eclipsing his mind in blinding white pleasure as he jerked harshly into her, his face pressing deeply into her hair as he groaned his hard climax.

He panted into her shoulder after, while she licked the sweat from the dent she'd left in his. He pulled away with a wince, a couple of long hairs sticking to his mouth, and she half-laughed half-gasped, tugging them away from him. He gave up trying to manoeuvre away from the sticky mess, and collapsed against her side.

Xena brushed her hair out of her face, nuzzled briefly against his chest when she turned onto her side, and her eyes slid closed.

Ares supposed he should have cleaned them up, but his limbs felt like jelly. Slipping an arm under the hollow of her shoulder, he leaned against her and tried to catch his breath. Something fluttered inside him like butterflies. Cautious. He had to be cautious.

He couldn't help the silly smile, though.

The sheets were cold. He must have fallen asleep somehow.

It gnawed at him a bit, that she hadn't stayed, but he knew better than to push her. It never ended pleasantly for him if he forced and she snapped. It was alright, she had a guilt complex the size of the Aegean. The confrontation to settle this, whatever this was, was inevitable.

Two days later, he felt her presence vanish, far to the East.