𝐇𝐘𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐒

Chapter Six

"Ow," Hyacinthus muttered. Did gods all have a hard head? He rubbed the left side of his forehead. That was going to leave a nasty bruise. "Sorry, about that, I didn't-"

The gods' blue eyes stared into Hyacinthus's soul, unmoving when the salty breeze passed through his hair. 

Apollo could hear the vague hint of that breeze, figuring it to be Posiedon's romantic way of telling him to go on cloud nine somewhere else than this beach. Well, time was of the essence, for mortals, so now Apollo was commanded to stay. 

The feel of Hyacinthus's nervous hands on his chest, the loud sound of his breath soaring through his ears. Yes, this was the perfect moment. 

Without a moment's hesitation, he cupped his hand against the boy's cheek, pulling his head closer and pressing his lips against his. Most Spartans had chapped lips, but Hyacinthus's lips were soft... 

Did he just eat grapes? Oh gods, now the disgusting image of Dionysus was flooding into Apollo's mind. Shoo, god of wine! Let me enjoy my kiss in private. 

Apollo broke the kiss, momentarily irritated by the sudden thought of the wine god. Hyacinthus's mouth was contorted in some frozen smile, blinking his eyes. "I?" he was stuttering, cute boy, wait, was this his first kiss? 

Apollo felt pleased to have taken it. Of course, he had no experience what so ever, and what was a better kiss than one with a immortal handsome bestest hot god? 

"M-My lorp," Hyacinthus said, mispronouncing the last word due to him gulping air like a fish. 

"I see I've gotten you all dazed," Apollo chuckled. "have you fallen for me yet?"

"What was that?" Hyacinthus said. "I'm sorry, I should be punished, bye-"

"Hyacinthus, wait!" Apollo said, but he didn't really need to. Mortals was slow, and Hyacinthus didn't even touch the sand yet. "It's a kiss." he said finally, reassuring himself that Hyacinthus knew what it was. 

"Between you and me." He smiled his ravishing smile, one that emitted warmth and joy. 

Hyacinthus, on the other hand, was gaping like a fish out of water, his trademark expression. "So, you mean-"

"I like you." Hyacinthus was a bit slow. Was it a brain injury? Or one of those mysterious creatures called cinnamon rolls? The case of the purple eyed boy perplexed his godly neurons. "Be my lover, Hyacinthus, and I can grant you all the pleasures in the world."