What Lies Beneath

"And I you," Sotirios replied, his heart already aching in anticipated loneliness.

Almost in slow motion the two men's bodies came closer, Akakios looking up into Sotirios' eyes. The bigger man's arms reached to enfold him and his own head ducked down. Their lips met gently, chastely and Sotirios felt his aching heart finally shatter. He could not *would* not deceive Akakios any longer. With a cry of pain and despair he pulled away.

Akakios hugged himself in suppressed grief.

"Sotirios?" he sobbed, brokenly.

"I'm sorry, so sorry," he groaned. "I deceived you. I'm not a man. I'm a satyr." No sooner had he spoken the words than his body shifted, resuming its true form. The pain drove Sotirios to his knees. "I presumed to know your mind and pre-judged you, certain you would not want a satyr as company. I know all too well our reputation."

"I don't understand. Was all you said to me designed to persuade me into your bed?" Akakios found it hard to marry the lascivious reputation of satyrs with the intelligent, compassionate man he had grown to know over the last few days.

"No, no," Sotirios groaned. "Aphrodite set me the task of keeping you safe."

"And was kissing me part of that plan?" Akakios asked bitterly.

"There was no plan. You had been attacked, she asked I keep you company. At that time I knew nothing of you but your name. I chose to hide my true self and I regret it more than I can ever say. For so long I have complained about people just seeing the satyr and not the man in here," he added, hitting his breast with his fist. "And yet I gave you no choice. I failed their test. I didn't trust you with the truth."

Akakios was both bewildered and distraught. He did not know what to believe. His hands covered his face and soft sobs of grief accompanied the shaking of slim shoulders. He did not know what to think or what to do. He felt more alone at that moment than ever before. However, his head shot up at the deep groan of obvious pain from the satyr. Sotirios had tried to stand, but his right leg seemed to have given way. Pushing his grief aside he hastened to the other man's side.

"What can I do?" Akakios asked selflessly. The older man might not have trusted him before, but Sotirios had not behaved as a satyr and Akakios could not bear to see him in pain. Perhaps their friendship could be salvaged if they could talk more. But now he needed to *do* something.

"Hurts," Sotirios growled from between clenched teeth.

"Has it hurt like this before?" Akakios asked. He dropped to his knees, but could see no injury.

"No, just aching and stiff," Sotirios confessed.

"Is this why you went into the forest?" Akakios guessed.

"Yes. Human form was temporary."

"You said your home was nearby. Let's get you there," Akakios decided, pulling a heavily muscled arm over his shoulder and straining to help raise Sotirios to his feet.

"I'm too heavy," the satyr tried to protest, but found the pain easing as he accepted the youth's assistance.

"I can't carry you, but you can lean on me. I'm sturdier than I look."

Slowly the two men made their way to Sotirios' small cottage. Sotirios was trying to ignore the shards of pain and Akakios was flushed and sweating, but resolutely holding on to his friend. As they entered the satyr's home, Akakios' eyes darted rapidly around.

There was a large bed to the left with a closed door on the opposite wall. In front was a large fireplace in which a fire blazed warmly with a large, thick fur rug on the floor. On the right was a wooden table with a solitary chair and on the far right wall was a window seat with scrolls set in a case alongside it. Another closed door was on the right of the fire. Without bothering to ask, Akakios was angling them to the bed even as he was taking in the layout of the room. He helped lay the satyr on the bed, noticing for the first time that the bigger man did not display his genitals as was common with satyrs. Instead he wore a furred pouch that blended with his own and which covered them.

"Do you trust me, Sotirios?" Akakios asked gravely.

"Yes," the older man replied. He just wished he had from the beginning.

"Perhaps I can massage the pain away," Akakios muttered to himself as much as to the prone man. "Maybe it's some kind of cramp." As he spoke his hand stroked up the shin to squeeze gently at a furred thigh. "Where does it hurt most?" Akakios asked, meeting Sotirios eyes. The sorrow and self-reproach they held made him gasp.

"Forgive me, Akakios?" Sotirios pleaded.

For a second Akakios was confused, then he saw the plum-hued head of Sotirios' shaft peeking over the pouch that contained it. A flurry of emotions warred within the younger man; shock, arousal, anxiety, desire. He pushed them all down. Sotirios needed his help.

"I trust you, Sotirios," he said evenly. "I know at the moment you're not in control of your body. Please just close your eyes and let me tend to you."

The gentle motions of caring hands seemed to ease the pain away until, with a start, Sotirios awoke. It was evening and Akakios was slumped, precariously balanced, at the side of the bed, his head on Sotirios' furred thigh. Tenderly, the bigger man manoeuvred Akakios fully onto the bed, intending to take the window seat. However, before he could move, Akakios had thrown an arm across his chest and nestled closely into the larger body. Determined to move as soon as Akakios allowed, Sotirios settled and had no memory of the moment his own eyes closed.

****

Akakios blinked as he awoke. He realised he had tight hold of Sotirios and had used the large, furred chest as his pillow. He took a moment to study the bigger male. Small horns were situated above slanted eyebrows. Sotirios' hair was tightly curled in contrast to his own straight tresses. The chest he had slept on was the same, but the legs were thick, powerful, furred and ended in hooves. Akakios thought long and hard, but in essence, this was the same man he had grown to know and...

Akakios blinked again. Had he really been going to add love? He had never felt so right in any other's company. They had found much on common and he had enjoyed Sotirios' talks and their discussions. He felt as though he fitted in the bigger man's embrace in a way he had never known before. He did not know whether Sotirios would consider him as a lover, nor did he know to find out. He did not want to lose the most important friendship he had ever had. His body gave an involuntary shiver of inexplicable tension. He then smiled as Sotirios snuggled his body closer, clearly thinking his bed mate chilly. The action warmed more than Akakios' body. He sighed and let sleep claim him once more.

****

Sotirios opened his eyes at the unfamiliar sensation of another in his bed. He gave a tender smile to see the still-sleeping Akakios, only now his arms held the slumbering youth. Akakios' arm was across his stomach, slender fingers moving in a caressing motion over his furred hip. He wondered if such a beautiful human would ever consider a satyr lover and gave a mental shake of his head. He had nothing to offer Akakios. In the human world Akakios could find a more suitable mate with wealth and standing as befitted such an intelligent young man. He could offer little more than food and shelter. And the love he seeks an unbidden voice came into his mind. The satyr sighed, determining to enjoy as much of Akakios' company as he was blessed to share.

****

When morning came the two men awoke simultaneously. Akakios could not help the pink stain that coloured his cheeks. Although it had been chaste, he had never slept with another.

"Good morning, Sotirios. Is your leg better?' Akakios asked.

"Much, thank you," the satyr said, with a brief smile. The sight of the perfect lips so close and the adorable blush had the older man wanting nothing more than to press Akakios into the mattress and kiss him senseless. Instead he rose swiftly. "I'll prepare breakfast," he said without turning back and so missing the flash of hurt in Akakios' expressive eyes.

There was fresh, warm bread, honey and figs as well as a large jug of orange juice for breakfast and Akakios devoured his with relish. He sat at the table, Sotirios on the window seat.

"What will you do after completing your pilgrimage?' Sotirios asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"I don't know," Akakios replied truthfully. He prayed fervently that he might be asked to stay. "If I return home, things will just go on as before. Costas may be more subtle, but he won't give up on marrying me off. I know him too well. But I have no trade to offer and no money."

"You could stay here." Sotirios belatedly wondered where that offer had come from. He wanted to have the youth around, but it would be like being in Tartarus. To live with the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, one he was sure he had lost his heart to, and never be able to reveal that love. He gave a silent sigh. From the radiant expression on Akakios' face, however, he could not take back the offer.

"Thank you, Sotirios. You would truly let me stay here?"

"For as long as you wish," the older man offered. He had brought about his own punishment for his deception. He hoped he could bear it.

****

In Olympus three gods stared into a scrying mirror and two sighed impatiently.

"Sotirios doesn't feel he deserves love now, or that Akakios could ever love him," Dionysus offered sadly.

"And Akakios is too naive to know how to find out if his love is returned without losing a friendship," Athena growled. "So what now?"

"We wait a little," Aphrodite said. "They love each other and will make a wonderful pairing. We just need to see if they can work it out for themselves."

"A god's work is never done," Dionysus said, shaking his head. "Perhaps I should just go and knock their heads together."

"Give them some time alone," Aphrodite said decisively. "They have opportunity to realise what it is they feel and to act on it. A satyr is immune to Cupid's arrows and would know if one was used on a mortal. In truth they don't need that help. I knew as soon as Akakios was born he would be the perfect mate for Sotirios. Let us give them some time."

"Or perhaps a shove in the right direction," Dionysus muttered to himself as he left the temple.

****

It was the third day that Akakios had accepted Sotirios' offer to stay with him, but the young man's glow was fading. The two men barely saw each other and whilst Sotirios slept in his bed, Akakios curled into the window seat. When he awoke the satyr was either finishing eating or leaving. He stayed away all day, claiming he had devotions to perform at the temple and when he returned home he bathed quickly and retired to bed. Akakios had no idea how to breach the wall that seemed to divide them.

Akakios wandered listlessly in the orchard. Although he had selected a couple of ripe peaches, his appetite had deserted him. He barely picked at the fresh food he found daily in Sotirios' pantry. His heart ached. He wished he had someone with experience in such matters to help guide him. A sound started him out of his reverie.

"Those look like delicious peaches, young man. Would you be willing to share?"

The voice belonged to a grey haired man with a ruddy complexion and smiling face. Without hesitation Akakios held out both.

"Here, you may take them. Would you like some water also?"

"Thank you, young one."

The elderly man sat against a tree and Akakios raced away. He brought back a jug of water and in a small basket he had a cup, bread, cheese and olives. He picked a few more peaches as the older man drank and added them to the basket.

"Now, how can I repay you?" The old man smiled as Akakios demurred. "You have cared for me; why not let me help you? You look like you need a friend. You should be full of the joys of living and yet I can see dark smudges beneath those beautiful eyes and they are dull where they should shine. I may be an old man now, but I remember what it was to feel your love unrequited. But are you sure that it is?"

Akakios found himself telling the old man everything, except that Sotirios had been sent by Aphrodite.

"I'm afraid that if he doesn't love me he will send me away and my heart will shatter," Akakios concluded.

"But if you stay, you will fade," the old man replied. "Have you considered that Sotirios may be afraid that you *will* leave. That he expects it? That this is his way of trying to deal with it? He is a satyr. What does he have to offer a bright, beautiful and intelligent young man? This is all he has," the old man waved a hand at the orchard and in the direction of the house. Perhaps he fears *your* rejection. You must be the brave one. I'm sure that beneath this fragile exterior you have a strong backbone. Prepare a feast to share."

"We only have one chair," Akakios began and stopped, blushing crimson.

"All the better," the old man laughed. "Set it out on the floor. I'll wager you have some good thick furs you can be comfortable sitting on. Put clean linen on the bed, arrange the food on the floor and make him sit and eat with you. You said he was afraid to reveal he was a satyr to you for fear you would reject his friendship. Now the stakes are higher. You *do* love him, don't you?"

"Yes," Akakios said decisively.

"Then show him. Make him understand this is where you want to be, he is who you want to be with and be prepared to fight for him."

As the old man slowly rose to his feet, he found Akakios hugging him tightly.

"Thank you," the young man said, determination colouring his voice.

"You're welcome" the old man laughed. "Now go and make me proud."

Akakios grinned and hurried away, heading for the house he shared with Sotirios.

*Their* home.

****

Sotirios walked slowly through his orchard, the magnificence of the sunset wasted on the unseeing satyr. Was this the day he would find Akakios gone? Sotirios knew he was torturing himself. He sometimes caught fleeting glances of the hurt and confusion in Akakios' eyes, but was unable to ask the young man for his heart's desire. That Akakios remain with him -- even as a friend. He did not want to lose the most important person in his life, but all he did seemed to create an ever wider chasm he did not know how to bridge. He stared at the door to his home.

*Their* home.

With a sigh, he opened the door. And stared.

The table was in front of the window seat. It was adorned with a large vase of fresh flowers and platters of food. However, the plates and cups were set by the fire. The smell of the food seemed more enticing than normal. If he were honest, he had eaten little over the last couple of days and his stomach growled its appreciation.

The bed had also received attention. The furs lay at the bottom and flower petals were scattered over the sheets. Another part of Sotirios body let its appreciation be known.

"Sit down, Sotirios," Akakios said, appearing from the pantry holding a jug of wine. "I'll serve you."

The satyr obeyed unthinkingly and a plate of roast lamb and potatoes, flavoured with lemon, was handed to him. His cup was filled with a dark, rich, ruby-red wine. He gave Akakios a hesitant smile as the younger man came and sat so close that their legs brushed one another. As they ate, one felt apprehension mounting, the other anticipation.

At the conclusion of the meal, Akakios cleared the dishes away, unaware of Sotirios' growing fears.

"Sotirios," Akakios began, his mouth dry. "You offered me a place here for as long as I liked, but..."

Sotirios could see the young man's mouth still moving, but heard no more sounds. Akakios was going to leave. All his rehearsed responses evaporated like morning dew. Akakios was *leaving* him. Suddenly it did not matter what he had to do or say to make the young man stay. He dropped to his knees, his face buried in Akakios' midriff, crying and begging.

"Don't leave me. Please don't leave me."

He could feel Akakios' hands touching him, but felt frozen in place, unable to respond. Finally some of Akakios' words and their sound permeated his haze.

"...frightening me, Sotirios. Please, Sotirios."

He let gentle hands help him to his feet. He did not want the young man scared. He felt the bed strike the back of his knees and let himself fall back.

"Don't go," he begged softly. He looked up into Akakios' face and saw the tears falling from the beautiful eyes. He raised a trembling finger to wipe shakily at them.

"Crying?" The satyr husked.

"I'm not leaving you, Sotirios. Not now, not ever. I love you," Akakios said huskily. "I love you," he repeated more softly.

"Love me? You love *me*?" Hope flared in the big man's heart. He found himself straddled by Akakios.

"Don't ever do that to me again. You scared me so much."

Despite the scolding tone of voice, gentle hands wiped away the satyr's own tears. He reached to frame the adored face.

"I love you so much, Akakios," he rasped.

Slowly, incrementally, they moved closer together, each giving the other time to pull back, until their lips met once more. The soft, tentative touch became harder, deeper, more demanding as tongues slid against one another each learning the textures and tastes of the other's mouth. Sotirios lay back properly, spreading his thighs to cradle Akakios closely to his body. Finally, reluctantly, they parted, panting softly.

"Sotirios," Akakios moaned, rocking his body into the bigger man.

The satyr made a pleased noise deep in his throat at the feel of his lover-to-be's hardness.

"I'll take care of you, precious one," Sotirios vowed. "Let me see you?"

"And I you?" Akakios asked as he eased away from the bigger male.

Sotirios nodded, smiling. He was easily naked. The furred pouch sailed into the centre of the room to leave him rampantly erect. The gasp and wide-eyed look from his mate were not unexpected. He was as gloriously endowed as all his kind. He reached to help Akakios finish disrobing, staring appreciatively at the expanse of olive-tinted, smooth flesh and the slender erection, red and dripping, which jutted proudly from a modest nest of dark curls.

"Perfect," Sotirios growled.

Akakios stared at the satyr's prestigious flesh. He knew the mechanics of lovemaking, but found it hard to believe something so magnificently built would ever fit inside him. His hand reached hesitantly, then he looked at Sotirios for permission.

"You may touch me as you wish, precious," Sotirios husked. He wanted Akakios' hand, his mouth, on his aching flesh He wanted to be buried deep inside the beloved body, but would move only at the young man's pace.

Akakios' hand could barely encircle Sotirios' manhood. He stroked experimentally, pleased to see the glistening tears of liquid need that slipped from the slit at the purple-hued dome. He caught a drop on his finger. He stared mesmerised as Sotirios caught the hand and brought it to his lips to lick clean. His hand was guided back and another drop caught. This time it was lifted to Akakios' mouth and the young man tasted the offering hesitantly. It was salty, yet sweet and had a unique flavour of the satyr himself. Akakios was instantly addicted and repeated the gesture.

Gently, not wanting to move too fast, Sotirios manoeuvred them to kneel over the lithe form of his mate. He bent his head to lick at one virgin breast. The coffee areola pebbled instantly and the cinnamon nipple tightened into a hard, sweet nub. Sotirios paid homage to them both as befitted things of exquisite beauty, sucking, nipping and licking until Akakios was incoherent with pleasure and need.

Sotirios eyes devoured the sight of Akakios' flushed arousal. It curved to the satyr's right and wept its juices to leave a small pool on smooth flesh. He licked at the pre-come, deciding it was sweeter than the best wine he had ever tasted.