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The way Hypnos has to spread his thighs practically as wide as they’ll go just to straddle Ares’ lap makes something dark stir low in the pit of Ares’ stomach. He’s so tiny; most of the chthonics are at the very least a head and a half shorter than their Olympian counterparts, but Hypnos is lanky to boot, all slender limbs and jutting bone.
Ares doesn't pretend for a second that he doesn’t get off on how much larger he is than his tiny lover.
There are lithe hands curling fingers into his waist through the thin chiton he’s donned for the occasion - no point adorning himself with his pteruges and pauldrons and all the rest of it when he’s just spending time with a lover - and then Hypnos smiles widely up at him, before deliberating shuffling on his lap, making a show of twisting his hips one way and then the other.
“Y’know, you being so huge doesn’t make this very easy. My thighs feel like they’re gonna pop out of their sockets!” He laughs, not even trying to hide the intent in his voice, hips rolling so he can arch his back, his abdomen meeting Ares’ own. “I’d far rather you positioned me a different way.”
“Is that so? What would you rather me do?” Ares plays so easily into Hypnos’ game, knowing damn well he’ll get as much out of it as the grinning god in his lap will. His fingertips skirt along Hypnos’ jaw, thumb brushing the ridge of a cheekbone and Hypnos leans into it just so, eyelids slipping a little lower over the surface of his eyes.
“Honestly? I’d rather like to have you spread me out and breed me.”
Oh, so that’s how he wants to play. Invoking their favourite shared fantasy is a pretty cheap shot and a surefire way to stir Ares’ lust.
He’s fast, top lip curling into a sneer before he grabs Hypnos by the waist. His broad hands completely encircle that lithe little waist and Ares has to consciously hold onto the strings of his self restraint as he effortlessly lifts Hypnos from his lap. Sleep incarnate is so fucking tiny, pliable and left at the mercy of Ares’ whims, powerless underneath his breadth and might.
It’s the ultimate power fantasy, and Ares may just have growled a bit as he plonked Hypnos down flat on the bed, hovering over him knelt between his sprawled thighs, and watching the way his curls tousle against the bedspread, lips parted and slightly flushed with the exertion of it all.
“You want me to breed you? Mount you and fill you and take you as my own?” Ares questions, hands coming to curl about Hypnos’ hips in a possessive gesture which makes him visibly shiver.
“I’m already yours, Ares, although you’re more than welcome to re-stake your claim. Remind me who I belong to,” Hypnos breathes out, raising a leg so as to hook a knee around Ares’ waist in invitation as Ares’ own hands find the gorget at his neck, unclasping it and slipping it off in a well practiced motion. As much as Ares likes to think of himself as a conqueror who takes and takes and takes for himself, Hypnos is bossy, demanding, and every single time he gives in to his pretty little god immediately.
“You’re insatiable,” Ares smiles at that, and then he’s moving Hypnos once again, using the leverage he has over him to shuffle him up the bed away from him. He looks like he wants to ask what exactly he’s doing, but Hypnos holds his tongue as Ares looms, leaning down so he can lick a broad stripe up the delicate column of Hypnos’ throat before catching his lips with his own, Hypnos leaning into it before he can make contact.
As ever Hypnos kisses with lazy vigour, throws an arm about Ares’ neck and drinks from his mouth, chasing the slick of Ares’ tongue with his own and gasping as teeth grasp and pull at his lower lip. Ares smooths a hand up over the plane of Hypnos’ stomach, up and over his chest, and allows himself to indulge in the feeling of the slender figure beneath him. It’s too much, it’s overwhelming to think about how easily he can pick up Hypnos, physically manipulate him like a ragdoll, and amidst those heady thoughts Ares has to break their kiss with a pop, coming to bite down on Hypnos’ neck as if by instinct.
“Yes- mark me!” Hypnos cries out, fingers making a beeline for the white curls upon Ares’ head, and Ares is all too happy to provide. The way Hypnos squirms underneath him, practically hangs weightless off of Ares’ neck, as he sucks bruises into that pallid skin only serves to make Ares run hotter.
“I could ruin you so easily,” Ares murmurs before biting down again, feels as much as he hears the bright cry which leaves Hypnos at that.
“Then do it,” Hypnos whines, the command hissed from between his teeth as he arches up again, hands scrabbling for purchase in a needy little gesture. Cute.
“Always so needy. You ask me to breed you, to ruin you. What if I just took what I wanted?” Ares growls against that fragile collarbone, hands coming to entirely engulf Hypnos’ waist once more and flexing as he spoke, “I could pick you up and use you as a fucktoy. A needy little hole for my cock, and nothing more.”
“You say that like that’s not exactly what I want!”
Gods, Hypnos was so much.
Sliding a single hand up and around to Hypnos’ back, he effortlessly lifts the little god from the bedsheets to lean against his chest, cradling him with a tenderness which mismatches the heat in his words as his other hand deftly unties his belt so that his clothing can fall loose around his torso.
“Maybe another time, then. For now, I want to bend you in half, fuck you long and deep,” Ares promises, discarding Hypnos’ belt to the side before coming to unpeg his robe.
“You have no idea how badly I need that, Ares,” Hypnos answers, more than happy to lie limp against Ares’ chest, held up by one broad hand as the other undresses him, a simple show of strength which perfectly accentuates Ares’ filthy words. It’s hot. It’s so fucking hot.
“I assure you, I have some idea,” Ares laughs, and then - there’s a large hand cupping Hypnos’ erection through the fabric which swamps him, Ares’ palm alone covering the entirety of his length. Once again just how tiny Hypnos is next to him hits him and he lets out a low groan through grit teeth, grinds the heel of his palm in and delights in the curse that leaves Hypnos’ mouth at that.
Hypnos can’t withhold the strangled whimper he makes when that delicious pressure disappears, but then Ares is pushing his robe up his body and over his head and- yeah, okay, that’s good, that’s a step towards what he needs.
Yet as he’s lowered toward the bed, losing the delicious press of Ares’ well muscled chest and abdomen - fuck, he’d like to drag his tongue through the indents of Ares’ abs, a stray thought goes - Hypnos lets out another impatient little noise, curling his fingers in the sheets as he watches Ares reach to one side, rummaging.
“Impatient little minx,” Ares chides, but there’s no actual reprimand in his voice.
“I need you,” Hypnos huffs, twitching his hips so his cock bounces in an alluring little display which catches Ares’ eye and distracts him for a split second from the task at hand, before finally he closes a fist around the little bottle he’d been hunting for.
“I need to stretch you out, first,” Ares says, and the way Hypnos immediately spread his legs wider, twisting his body in a lithe show to better display his entrance drips lust hot and fast beneath Ares’ skin.
With a soft mutter of “good” Ares unstops the glass bottle, settling back on his knees between those perfectly spread thighs. After a moment’s consideration he simply dribbles a little oil direct from the bottle onto Hypnos’ rim, drinking in the way he twitches and moans at the coolness of it. A little dribbles down the cleft of his cheeks, and Ares pushes away the desire to lick it up.
“Hurry up and fill me,” Hypnos demands, having propped himself up on an elbow to watch Ares with a haughty air.
“Patience,” Comes the reply, and Hypnos finds himself pouting. A little more oil is dribbled into one of Ares’ palms, carefully used to slick up his fingers - and then there’s a blunt fingertip pressing at that ring of muscle, and Hypnos is throwing his head back. Carefully, carefully, Ares presses in, pulling just so at Hypnos’ rim with a careful quirk of his finger, and the noise Hypnos makes at that is pure and utter condensed filth.
Those fingers are so big, a delicious stretch in Hypnos’ comparatively tiny hole, and his cock smears precome over his own abdomen as Ares brushes the tip of a second finger against his entrance.
“More, give it to me,” Hypnos insists, and Ares simply has to comply.
With two of those thick fingers inside of him Hypnos moans quietly on each exhale, arching his hips and trying to fuck himself on them. It’s a torturously hot sight, Hypnos flushed and demanding and practically falling apart on just two fingers, and Ares particularly delights in the shout he gets him to give when he curls his fingers in a particular direction. As ever, Ares feels torn, his urge to pull his fingers out, slick his cock, and pound that tight little ass immediately, warring with his urge to draw this out, finger Hypnos until he’s begging incoherently for Ares to fill him with his come.
Instead he settles for a happy medium, wriggling a third thick finger in alongside the two already in Hypnos’ ass, the way that rim stretches around his digits a filthy treat. Fucking them in and out with an obscene squelch, Hypnos keens a sound containing the syllables of Ares’ name and a garbled “please”, his hands hooking beneath his knees in an attempt to stretch himself further, further, in an attempt to accommodate for Ares’ sheer size.
Gently, Ares spreads his fingers, pulling at the velvety walls of Hypnos’ hole, and Hypnos’ back arches with a cry so salacious that - that’s it, that’s it, he’s done, he has to mount his beautiful little god. His fingers are retrieved from inside Hypnos, set to instead undo his chiton - but then Hypnos huffs, loud and dramatic.
“I can’t wait for you to do that, I need you,” He complains, voice rough, and when Ares meets his gaze he flutters his eyelashes in a way that makes Ares’ stomach flip.
“But I need to undress-”
“Why? You can fuck me like that.”
And before Ares can retort again, one of Hypnos’ hands leaves the underside of his knee, dragging his finger through some of the precome smeared against his own abdomen, dragging it over his own shining wet hole to mingle with the oil there before he tugs at that ring of muscle with a skinny little finger, so tiny in comparison to the sight of Ares’ there only moments before, and then comes the killing blow-
“Come and knock me up, Ares.”
Fuck.
Ares’ usual regal demeanour vacates the premises as he hurriedly hikes the fabric adorning his lower body up, bunching it about his waist before smearing the remnants of the oil on his hand over the length of his cock. With a grunt he leans over Hypnos, one arm coming to hook under the leg Hypnos isn’t holding up himself as he uses his other hand to line the thick head of his dick up with that stretched, wet entrance.
That impossibly tight, wet heat engulfing him has his jaw hanging slack with a low, almost strangled noise, pointedly undignified.
(Quite simply, the effect Hypnos had on him would be downright embarrassing if he wasn’t always so fucking turned on for it.)
There’s a beat, a second in which all they have is the wet pants between them, the feeling of being joined, of being filled to the fucking brim or of being squeezed by velvety heat. It lingers, impossibly perfect, fulfillment encompassing.
And then Ares’ other hand comes to press Hypnos in two with a harsh snap of his hips, and any and all restraint is abandoned in a heartbeat.
Hypnos damn near screams as Ares drives into him at a punishing pace. He’s full of cock, buried beneath the sheer breadth of Ares’ shoulders, knees pinned practically to either side of his head - he’s powerless, left at Ares’ mercy, yet locked into a fantasy of his own making, better than any dream he could ever conceivably come up with.
It’s already mind melting, fever pitch hot, but then Ares is talking.
“You take me so well. The way you squeeze and stretch around my girth feels incredible. My tiny little minx,” he grits out, voice low and run rough and ragged with exertion, so close Hypnos can feel the warm mist of his breath against his face. That pace is relentless, hard and fast and rough, and those words only serve to ratchet Hypnos’ lust up ever higher.
“So full,” Hypnos gasps out, hands useless as they grab - at Ares, at the bedspread, at his own legs, at his hair, at Ares’ hair. He’s so cute like this, overwhelmed and engulfed in white hot pleasure - and Ares plans to drag him as far into it as he can with the last shreds of coherent thought he has.
“And you’re only going to get fuller when I fill you with my seed, try and put a godling in you,” Ares growls, accentuating it with a particularly deep and filthy grind of his hips, the head of his cock pushing and rubbing against Hypnos’ walls - and that puts a particularly filthy thought in the little god’s head.
Trembling, his entire body moving with the raw power behind Ares’ thrusts, Hypnos drags one of his restless hands down his body, shivering as he brushes a nipple and feeling the sweat on his abdomen before he rests his palm flat and-
Oh.
Oh, holy shit.
Sure enough, the cock he’s currently impaled on is so large it’s making his stomach bulge on every thrust in, the shape of it clearly defined through his flesh against his clammy palm. No matter how many times they do this, no matter how many times he lets his frankly huge lover take him apart, something about the experience of having his fucking guts literally rearranged by the sheer size of that length sends him spiralling into sheer depravity.
“Mmmn, Ares, Ares, you’re bulging through my stomach,” He cries out, unsure of exactly how coherent he is in the face of things. He feels like he’s melting, reduced to white hot pleasure and the feeling of being dwarfed beneath Ares - and then there’s an impossibly large hand pushing his own aside, coming to cup his abdomen, leaving one of his legs to sprawl and twitch freely.
“So tiny you’re not just filled, but overfilled,” Ares rasps, experimentally slowing down, giving another slow, deep grind, feeling the way his cock pushes out Hypnos’ belly at that, before pulling out almost all the way and giving a single, hard thrust, as though comparing. Something about it is impossibly erotic - he’s testing the limits of Hypnos’ body, playing with how small he is solely to sate Ares’ lewd curiosity.
Ares presses down as he gives one last deep thrust, and it has Hypnos seeing stars.
“Do you- do you- mmn,” and Hypnos still hasn’t recovered from the stars in his mind, brain lust addled and melting and rapidly approaching the precipice of orgasm, tongue loose and useless in his drooly mouth. He takes a breath, attempts to get his shit together, only to cry out as Ares finally returns his hand to his knee, folding him even further in half and fucking into him with renewed vigour.
“Yes?” He goads, and Hypnos decides now is the time, he’s gonna be coherent, he’s gonna try and return the filth Ares is always purring.
He takes a determined breath and tries not to focus on how fucking incredible the new angle feels.
“Do you think you’ll come enough that it’ll- it’ll make my stomach bulge outwards? Well and truly - oh - fill me up-”
And Hypnos can’t even get through vocalising his thoughts before Ares snarls, effortlessly pulling his legs up so far his ass and lower back aren’t even in contact with the bed anymore, and plowing him, throwing his entire strength into each and every thrust. Worth it would be what Hypnos would be thinking if he wasn’t reduced to mounting desire and not a whole lot else, muscles twitching and fingers curling as he feels the ridge of Ares’ cock through his abdomen press ever further.
“Fill you up with my come,” Ares growls, low and wrecked and Hypnos can hear how close he is, “breed you. Knock you up.” He drives in once, twice, and Hypnos clenches down, appreciates the insane stretch of his ass, and that does it - Ares stills save for the occasional twitch of his hips, fingers clenching at the softness of Hypnos’ thighs as that telltale warm wet rush fills him.
There’s so much, there’s so fucking much, Hypnos’ asshole drinking every last drop of Ares’ come - and that’s the thought which has Hypnos hurriedly finding his own dick, slick with precum and throbbing where it’s laid neglected his long. He’s not sure how long it takes, his hand movements loose and sloppy and overwhelmingly desperate, but he’s not sure Ares is done filling him with his cum by the time his own orgasm hits him, back arching with his release as much as it can, folded as he is.
Gently, gently, Ares straightens him out, pulling his softening cock from Hypnos’ ass and letting his legs down, carefully placing his hips back down against the bed. Hypnos can feel the way cum escapes from his rim, dripping down to stain the bedsheets, and that when coupled with the deep ache in his once sharply bent back has him wincing a bit.
With a gentle smile on his features, Ares drops beside him, a hand cupping Hypnos’ cheek so he could press a little kiss against the exhausted god’s lips before wrapping an arm about his limp figure, feeling the way Hypnos shuffles toward his warmth.
“Shall I draw a bath?” Ares asks, and Hypnos hopes he can stay awake long enough for that.