InsaneJournal

Who made who?

Who: Poseidon and Breacan.
What: Poseidon forcing Breacan to take leave.
Where: Hell.
When: Now.
Rating: Maybe R (hint of M/M).
Note: Un'beta as usual.

Warning: There is a slight reference to rape. Be warned.

Meta knowledge. Unless your muse somehow knows.

Astounded knowing I have onshore leave.



Poseidon stood waiting for Breacan to reply.

It was the first time in a long time, since he visited the nightmare all now colloquially called ‘Hell’. He had fought there himself, though he had to admit for selfish reasons. He wanted to protect what he cared for. The sea-god snorted, cared? Who was he kidding? He was in love with the stubborn, handsome, captain. The love was eating him up, any other time he’d just take what he wanted without thought of the other. Rape was something Poseidon was familiar with, but this time was different, he wanted the man to be willing in his bed---in his arms---returning his love.

That’s why he was there, protecting what he loved the most.

“Pardon?” Asked the captain.

“I think you heard me. You’re on leave, captain.”

Breacan recovered from his first initial surprise, as, anger suddenly washed over him.

“No.”

Poseidon turned to face him, equally angry.

“Take the damn leave.” He could see what the captain refused to admit, the iron poisoning was finally doing too much damage. Poseidon knew Breacan needed time away to let his body heal on its own. If he didn’t… Poseidon pushed the morbid thought aside.

“I will not leave my men.”

The god scowled darkly at the stubbornness.

“You and your fucking loyalty.”

Breacan’s own gaze was equally dark.

“Be thankful for it. It is, the only reason why I am here fighting for you.”

Poseidon was hurt at the direct truth. He wished there was another reason but knew there wasn’t, it didn’t hurt less. Hurting, he balled his fist, pulled his hand up ready to smite the man.

The captain steeled himself for the blast. It wouldn’t be the first time Poseidon had harmed him in that fashion, it wouldn’t be the last.

“Go on, do it. I still will not change my mind.”

The sea-god pulled back, calming himself. He tried another approach.

“If you don’t take up the leave, I’ll be forced to heal you myself. And then? You’ll owe me another life. Do you really want that?”

Tiredly, in frustration, Breacan accepted his fate. Accepted what he was denying himself. Accepted what Eothian had been bawling him out for over the last few days--- he was ill. And if he took up Poseidon’s offer, he’d be able to cure the problem himself. His body couldn’t heal itself with the continuing onslaught of the iron in its system; he needed to get out of the place to gather his strength. He also knew he was in no condition to stay and fight. If he did, he’d get hurt, or worse someone else would. He couldn’t live with himself if that happened.

Finally, Breacan said,

“Very well, Milord. As you wish.”

The sea-god looked on both pleased and concerned. Poseidon reached out to caress Breacan’s face; the touch ignited a flame of passion in the sea-god. The flame was quickly extinguished when Breacan jerked away disgusted. The captain stepped backwards, placing distance between him and the god.

The moment was broken when Poseidon spoke again,

“Take the leave immediately, return only when you are better.”

The god turned on his heel, leaving the captain alone to get over the surprise of knowing he was leaving ’Hell’.