The Fall of Icarus (Book 1 in the Apollo series)

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"So what happens now?" Apollo asked.

They were both sat on the window ledge, Icarus nestled in between Apollo's arched legs. His head was resting Apollo's chest, with his heartbeat thumping comfortingly in his ear. Apollo had one hand wrapped softly around Icarus' waist and the other playing with a lock of his hair; it was almost lulling Icarus to sleep.

"What do you mean what happens now?" Icarus replied, half-stuck in a sleepy haze. "What happens when?"

"We know the wings your father made for you work; we tested them and you flew." He looked forlornly at the oncoming sunset. "So what are you and your father going to do now?"

Icarus hummed. The vibration felt soft against Apollo's chest. "He's making a pair for himself, which should take a week or so. Then after that, when the weather permits us, we'll be out of here." He smiles. "Finally."

Apollo didn't smile.

He wasn't in a mood to smile, not that Icarus could much tell. He was too deeply buried in his own bliss to realise the heavy weight of immense distrust hanging on Apollo's face.

"Apollo, my freedom is almost within my grasp. I can taste it on the tip of my tongue, it's liberating." He laughed. "I almost can't believe it. The sky will be my only limit."

"I'm glad you feel so joyous about your future prospects." Apollo replied monotonously.

"You don't feel the same way?"

"You know I don't."

Icarus frowned.

Apollo rolled his eyes and tried not to sigh.

"Don't look at me like that Icarus, I haven't exactly kept my ill feelings for your father's plan a secret. It doesn't mean I love you any less, I am just being honest with you. It doesn't bode well, I don't like it."

"What else would you have me do Apollo?" Icarus said. "This is my chance to escape. An opportunity like this might never come around again, I have to take it. I wish you could see that."

"I can see that, but you forget that I am a god Icarus, I have seen things like this happen before. I know how it usually ends and I know how the gods like to play cruel games with mortals for their own amusement. Don't think your immune from their whims."

Icarus turned his eyes upwards to Apollo's. They met in a moment of sadness that was then quickly masked by a delicate kiss to Icarus' forehead.

"Do you speak of Hyacinthus?" He asked.

Apollo blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You said that you've seen things like this happen before, how the gods like to play games with us. Do you speak of Hyacinthus? What game did he fall victim to, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He fell victim to the game of Zephyros' bitter jealously." He said quietly. "But he was different. Hyacinthus wasn't looking for anything; he was the prince of Sparta, he had everything he could ever want."

Icarus remained silent for a moment. "Do you miss him?"

"He was torn from me in a way no one could ever understand, of course I miss him. It would be wrong of me to tell you that I don't love him anymore, because I do. I still do, and I think I shall forever; but it doesn't mean I love you any less. I love you for you Icarus; I love you as my present, and I love Hyacinthus as my past."

Icarus smiled and kissed Apollo once more. "And I too, love you as my present, and hopefully my future."

And hopefully my future.