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erinye · 7 years

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Three times the sun gods bothered Icarus at work

Soooo this was going to be a “5 + 1” fic but I really gotta work on my project now, boo. but I wanted to send you what I had :) so here’s three parts! I tried to write from Icarus’s point of view this time… not sure how great I did lol anyway I hope you like it though :)

——

Icarus is taking four classes this term; the standard for a full-time student. He also signed up for a handful of extracurricular activities, not many, but enough to keep him involved. He’s discreetly in the student LGBTQ+ club, though he doesn’t often speak up. And of course, astronomy club, which is the thing he lives for every week.

He also has five separate jobs, that require his efforts at various times of the day/week. Between the five of them, Icarus manages to make enough money to keep his monthly bills in check, as well as taking a chunk off of the cost of tuition. He’s not rich, for sure, but frankly, it’s enough for him to keep his head above water (a phrase that’s always made him shudder, for some reason), and not burden his family with debt.

So many jobs, classes and extracurriculars requires Icarus to keep a detailed schedule on his refrigerator so he can keep track of where he’s supposed to be and when.

Tragically, this becomes his undoing, as certain other individuals also consult this schedule at their leisure to determine how and where to find him and maximize their pestering.

—————————-

The coffee shop is one of his big earners. It’s the reason he stays on working at The Big Bean, even though the job is more stressful than he would have thought. Icarus works there in the afternoon on Monday, after his European history class; and mornings on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. It’s a Thursday morning when the sun gods arrive.

Icarus looks up from where he’s restocking filters and groans aloud. Naturally, he’s the only one working the front at the moment.

Helios saunters over to the counter, grinning broadly at him. “Oi, can we get some service, here?” he shouts, unnecessarily loud.

Slumping in resignation, Icarus shuffles over to them. “Good morning, and welcome to the Big Bean. How can I serve you today?”

Both the gods snort at that, Helios nudging Apollo before leering at Icarus.

“Well, I can come up with a few ideas, Mop-Head… let’s start by bringing that pretty face of yours over here for a kiss, hmm?”

Icarus groans again. “Can you just be serious for once-“

Helios ignores him. “Then, you can take off those silly-looking clothes…”

“I think he looks rather dapper in that apron,” Apollo interjects, a slight quirk to his lips indicating his amusement but giving no clue if he’s serious about the apron.

“True. And the little cap is cute,” Helios concedes. “All right, so, naked except for the apron and cap-“

Face flushing crimson, Icarus hisses at them: “You guys, I’m working right now! You have to cut it out or I’ll get fired!”

Neither of them look impressed. “So what? You have four other jobs,” Helios points out.

“I need the money,” Icarus pleads. “Can’t you please just – order something?”

Apollo sighs. “Very well. It’s breakfast-time for you, correct?”

“It’s… yeah, I mean, it’s morning, so…”

“Then I’ll have barley bread and wine, with olives and figs.”

Icarus sighs. “We serve coffee, tea, and those pastries there,” he points at the display window, featuring sugary breakfast pastries.

Apollo sighs again, more heavily this time. “I’m beginning to see the source of your nutritional deficiencies. These will be addressed.”

“We have Greek Mountain Tea. Maybe you’d like that?” Icarus suggests desperately.

The god waves his hand. “Very well. With a teaspoon of honey added.”

While Icarus hurries to make the tea, Helios peruses the baked goods. “What’s this one?” he asks, pointing to an item.

Icarus looks over. “Uh… caramel and cinnamon roll.”

Helios nods. “I’ll have 1200.”

Icarus gapes incredulously. “H-hahh?!”

“You and your sweet tooth,” Apollo says to Helios.

“Yeah, what can I say? It’s always been my favorite.”

“You want 1200? One-two-zero-zero?” Icarus presses.

“Standard sacrificial amount,” Helios says.

“We don’t… have that many? Like, in the entire store? And it’s not a sacrifice, for- you’re paying for this, right? Please tell me you have money!”

They both give him blank stares. Icarus starts to hyperventilate as he debates how he’s going to deflect them, then they both snicker.

“Relax, Mop-Head. We know how to buy things.” Helios slaps a wadded-up ball of bills on the counter. “Now gimme my roll!”

Icarus shakily sets the tea in its paper cup down for Apollo and retrieves the cinnamon roll. These guys are not improving his anxiety.

When he sets the roll on its napkin on the counter, Helios darts his hand out, grabs Icarus’s wrist and pulls him forward to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You’re such a dork, Mop-Head,” he says with a wink and a grin, reaching up to flick at Icarus’s cap, knocking it at an angle over his eyes.

Both gods take their goods and begin to walk out of the store. “Catch ya later, kiddo!” Helios calls behind him.

“We’ll be sure to discuss your state of undress again later, when you’re off-shift,” Apollo adds, shutting the door behind them.

The wadded-up bills cover the amount needed – which is interesting, since he hadn’t told them the price, and they didn’t ask. Icarus is putting the change in the tip jar, when he realizes the jar is nearly overflowing with glittering Greek coins. The old ones, drachmas and obols with ancient Greek gods printed on them. Icarus wonders if Helios and Apollo are on any of them. The coins are totally useless to him, but they make him smile, and he packs them carefully in his bag to take home and examine later.

—————————————————————–

Icarus really shouldn’t be spending his precious time working at the flower shop. The pay is very minimal and it doesn’t do much for him in a scholarly or professional sense. There’s just not a lot of benefit to doing it.

But he stays there, working every Sunday and at odd free moments during the week, to help the elderly couple running the shop, mainly because it’s peaceful and interesting. The smell is wonderful: floral scents and warm air hit Icarus in the face every time he walks in the shop. In the greenhouse attached to the back of the building, the smell is even stronger, and damp potting soil as well, which he finds soothing. Most of his work involves bringing stock up to the front for the elderly owners, repotting some of the live plants, and hauling around the heavy pots and bags of soil. The old lady often brings in food and cookies for Icarus, which he isn’t too proud to take home with him. If she ever finds out how much he loves strawberry shortcake, he’s going to end up gaining twenty pounds, he’s sure. The old man tells him sometimes about the exotic places he’s gone, and the seeds he’s brought back. He even created a hybrid flower.

Very interesting, and very peaceful…. Most of the time.

Sometimes, like today, it skews much further towards interesting than peaceful. Icarus walks through the greenhouse carrying an enormous armload of cut flowers, with the intent of taking them to the workbench to wrap them into bouquets, when he sees Apollo standing there, gently touching the delicate petals of a hyacinth in a brightly painted pot.

Icarus slows to a stop and falters, uncertain what to say. In ordinary circumstances, he would have asked Apollo what the hell he’s doing here; or asked if the god didn’t have some “sun duties” to attend to instead of bothering Icarus; or some other sarcastic thing. But these flippant remarks are inappropriate in the face of Apollo’s continued grief over losing Hyacinthus, carried over the millennia. Apollo has said before that a few thousand years is as nothing to a god; to him, the young man’s death is recent and the sorrow only just barely losing the fresh sharp edge. He remembers very clearly sitting on the hillsides of Greece with Hyacinthus, wrestling and singing with him, kissing him. Revelations like these make Icarus feel small, insignificant and sad, inviting his depression to take over.

“Umm,” he begins, with no clear idea what he might say next. As it happens, Apollo spares him from making a fool of himself.

The god kisses his own fingertips and brushes them against the hyacinth, before turning to Icarus. His face, as usual, is perfectly composed – but at the sight of Icarus, his expression lightens noticeably and a small smile graces his lips.

“Icarus. What a pleasant sight.” Apollo takes one step towards him and pauses, taking Icarus in. The god tilts his head slightly, looking Icarus up and down, bringing a faint color to his cheeks.

“Uh… what are you..?” Icarus asks, suddenly feeling shy.

“You look – exceptionally handsome like that. With your arms filled with springtime flowers of all colors.” Apollo holds up his hand, using his thumb and forefinger in an L-shape to… measure Icarus? Maybe? Icarus isn’t an artist, he has no idea, but the attention makes his blush intensify.

Apollo is still talking, as though to himself. “Yes… perhaps seated – no, kneeling? No. Standing. Wearing a short tunic – perhaps the low-girdled chiton. Hmm. Yes.” The god walks slowly around Icarus, taking in a different angle. “Some flowers in your hair as well… Icarus, I’d like to paint you like this. You make a lovely composition.”

Icarus resists the urge to bury his face in the flowers. “But I’m on shift right now,” is all he can manage.

Apollo considers himself to be sex on legs – an attractiveness and appeal that speaks for itself. Icarus has found himself far less impressed by his open attempts at seduction, and much more interested in the Apollo that’s revealed in moments like these, when he shows his real personality: fussy and creative.

Apollo nods. “Of course. After your shift, then. It will give me time to collect my oils, my brushes… any other interesting props I can find.”

Okay, and to be fair, Apollo talking about oils and brushes in his Apollo-voice is suggesting something more than painting, in Icarus’s mind. He does bury his face in the flowers then, and the next time Apollo speaks, he can hear the smirk.

“I look forward to capturing your body. On canvas.”

Icarus groans into the flowers, and jumps a little as he feels Apollo’s fingers on his jaw, lifting his chin. His face is totally red now, probably, and Apollo’s wearing that look he gets when he knows he just sent a swirl of chaos into Icarus’s brain.

“A very pretty picture. Ah, but hold still… you have a smudge of dirt, from the flowers…” Apollo runs his thumb over a possibly-invisible spot of dirt on Icarus’s cheek, smiling at him.

“Ohh!”

A delighted-sounding cry from a few yards away makes them both turn. The old lady is beaming at them from where she’s passing through with paper and ribbons for the bouquets. “Icarus! Is this your boyfriend?”

Apollo easily rests his hand on Icarus’s shoulder, near the curve where it meets his neck. Icarus can feel the heat from his hand through his shirt and flinches when he feels Apollo’s thumb lightly caress the side of his neck. It’s not fair that he’s doing this when Icarus’s hands are full!

“Indeed. My name is Apollo. It’s a pleasure to meet you, madam.” Apollo’s voice is smooth and polite and the woman is charmed at once.

“Oh, how wonderful-Leroy! Leroy, come here, and meet Icarus’s young man!”

The old man shuffles out from the office. “You don’t say! And aren’t you a handsome devil. Icarus, you sly dog, why didn’t you say you had a boyfriend?”

“Uh-uhm, y-yeah, it’s… mostly true…” Icarus mumbles.

The old lady is beside herself with delight. “You should stop by more often, dear! We’d love to have you, I’m sure I can bring in more snacks to share.”

“I’d enjoy that,” Apollo says, shifting his hand down to Icarus’s arm, giving him a sideways hug while leaning down to give him a light kiss on the temple.

Icarus fights the urge to pray for lightning to strike him on the spot – such prayers, given ironically with a millennial flair for morbid drama, have taken a new significance these days.

———-

“Dog walking?” people ask, incredulously, and yes, Icarus wouldn’t have guessed it either. But he charges $15 dollar per walk, takes anywhere from 5-7 dogs out a couple times a day, most days of the week, and it reliably nets him $400 or more every week. Plus, far and away, it’s his most fun job. Originally, he’d only replied to a few ads asking for dog walkers, because he loves dogs and he figured he could use it to make sure he get exercise daily.

Now, it’s probably the best part of his day. The dogs are great, always happy to see him; he gets out in the fresh air for at least an hour a day, and he doesn’t even have to feel guilty about enjoying himself: he’s getting paid to do it!

It’s a Monday, just after lunch, and Icarus is taking Simon & Rosie (two fat Dalmatians), Oatmeal (some kind of pit bull mix), and Cutie Pie (a corgi) through the park on the south end of the university. The dogs are all excited to be outside, and stop to sniff interesting things and/or bark at them, when abruptly all four go still and tense.

Something huge crashes through the trees – at least two, maybe three stories high, black as night.

The dogs panic in a flurry of barking and running, tangling a bewildered and frightened Icarus in the leashes.

When the commotion stops, Simon and Rosie are cowering behind Icarus; Oatmeal is cowering next to Icarus, sort of half-growling, half-whimpering; and Cute Pie is in front, snarling ferociously at… an enormous, three-headed dog, who is looking down at them with a combination of imperiousness and curiosity, except for the third head, which has pricked its ears at a nearby squirrel.

A leash extends down from the neck(s) of this beastly dog, and at the end of the leash… Helios. Of course.

“I-I might have guessed it would be you,” Icarus says, only stammering a little as his heart hammers inside his chest.

“Heya, Mop-Head!” Helios greets him, waving cheerfully. “I saw you’re a really big fan of dogs, so I stole Cerberus for you, from Hades!” He preens. “Pretty great boyfriend, right?”

Icarus stares, wide-eyed. “That’s… Cerberus? The Guardian of the Underworld?”

“Yup!”

“Then… who’s guarding Hades?”

There’s a slight pause, hardly noticeable but telling nonetheless, before Helios grins and waves his hand dismissively. “Pfft. Not important. It’s not like that many people are trying to break in or out anymore these days, y’know?”

Icarus knows he should object, knows he should say something disapproving… but, the truth is, he is impressed.

“That’s really him? Like, really Cerberus?”

He tries to take a step closer and stumbles; the dogs have entangled him badly in the leashes. Helios notices and his grin widens, a little wickedly.

“Oh-ho, I see you’re all tied up at the moment, eh? Hmm. What to do about that.”

Icarus tries a little harder to untangle himself. “Behave yourself, Helios!”

“Now why should I do that?” Helios has sauntered over to where Icarus is standing, trapped in place, and runs his fingers over Icarus’s neck.

Icarus jerks his hands up to swat Helios away, but can’t, as he’s still holding on to the ends of the leashes and they’re wrapped around his legs. “H-Helios, cut it out!” he protests, scrunching up his shoulders protectively and fighting off a blush or laughter.

“No way! You’re really cute like this,” Helios looks far too pleased as he does it again, tracing lightly over Icarus’s collar bone this time, prompting an embarrassing squeaky noise from Icarus.

“Helios- shit-!” Icarus stumbles again and this time falls over. Helios catches him in a totally unnecessarily dramatic pose.

“Romantic! I like it!” Helios’s eyes are crinkled in amusement and he leans over, making kissy noises into Icarus’s neck.

Icarus does start laughing then and drops the leashes from his hand to push Helios’s head away. “You jerk! You’re so annoying!” he tries to scold.

“Aw, c’mon, Icarus! I surprise you at work with a great dog for your collection, catch you when you fall, and you can’t even reward your awesome boyfriend with a little smooch?”

“I only fell because of you in the first place -and you stole that dog, isn’t Hades gonna be mad-?” Icarus squawks as Helios squeezes his hips teasingly.

“Smooch smooch smooooch! C’mon, you can give me one little kiss!”

Icarus snickers again and falls back in defeat. “One little kiss. One!”

“Unless you beg for more,” comes the rejoinder with a grin.

Helios leans forward and presses a kiss to Icarus’s cheek. The gods are surprisingly chaste at times, choosing so far to only to kiss him on the cheeks, the forehead, the neck… his hands… Icarus would be lying if he said that they didn’t manage to make a kiss on the cheek feel pretty intimate anyway.

After his kiss, Helios rests his forehead on Icarus’s, and smiles. “You look so damn cute when you’re blushing, Mop-Head.”

Icarus blushes harder. “I’m not-“

“You totally are blushing! It’s soooooo cute! It makes me want to kiss you more!”

After a moment of laughter and a few sneaky tickles from Helios and some more-or-less-earnest fighting from Icarus, he suddenly looks up.

His four dogs are still there, sitting a few feet away and watching them with doggy looks of embarrassment on their faces.

But…

“Uh… where did Cerberus go?”

“!!! Ahhhhh shit!”

#submission #icarus tales #mythology #prob the fic of yours i love most #please tattoo it into my heart #💕ill prob draw sum scenes from it eheheheheh 💕

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