(Poseidon x Odysseus) (sfw)
---
Odysseus knew he was in for a bad time the moment he saw the moving truck.
It wasn’t the truck itself that bothered him. It was the man unloading a ridiculous number of fishing rods from it. The man was built like a damn sea god—tall, broad, and dripping with the kind of arrogance that Odysseus could sense from across their shared driveway. His long, salt-and-pepper hair was tied back in a low bun, and he was wearing sunglasses despite the fact that it was seven in the morning.
Odysseus, still in his bathrobe, sipping coffee on his porch, sighed.
“Please tell me you’re just visiting,” he muttered.
The man turned, lowering his sunglasses just enough to reveal sharp, piercing eyes. “Moved in.”
Odysseus grimaced.
“You look thrilled.”
“Oh, I’m ecstatic,” Odysseus deadpanned. “Really looking forward to whatever nautical nightmare you have planned for this neighborhood.”
The man smirked, hoisting a cooler off the truck bed. “You must be Odysseus.”
Odysseus narrowed his eyes. “How do you know that?”
The man jerked his chin toward Odysseus’ mailbox. “It’s on your mail.”
Odysseus frowned. “You read my mail?”
“It was a package, and it was on your porch for two days. Thought I’d be neighborly.”
Odysseus snatched the package from where it now sat on the moving truck, glaring at the label. Crap. He was right.
Still. The principle of the matter.
“And you are?” he asked.
The man set down his cooler with a heavy thud. “Poseidon.”
Odysseus blinked. “Poseidon what?”
“Just Poseidon.”
“Oh, fantastic,” Odysseus muttered. “I get stuck next to the one guy who introduces himself like a Bond villain.”
Poseidon smirked. “You don’t like the sea, do you?”
“I love the sea,” Odysseus said, crossing his arms. “I just don’t like when it moves in next door and starts dropping coolers of fish on my porch.”
Poseidon looked at him for a long moment, then grinned.
“Great. I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”
---
They did not get along just fine.
Within the first week, Poseidon had:
1. Installed an obnoxiously large water feature in his backyard that sounded like a tsunami at all hours.
2. Let his three massive, untrained dogs (why did he have three?!) trample through Odysseus’ carefully maintained front yard.
3. Hosted a loud fisherman’s club barbecue that lasted until four in the morning.
Odysseus snapped on day eight.
He stormed over to Poseidon’s porch and banged on the door. It swung open almost immediately, revealing a very shirtless, very smug Poseidon, drinking beer straight from the bottle.
Odysseus scowled. “Are you kidding me?”
Poseidon took a long sip. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”
“The fountain! The dogs! The fact that I haven’t gotten a full night’s sleep since you moved in because apparently, Poseidon the Mysterious has no concept of indoor voice!”
Poseidon leaned against the doorframe, visibly amused. “You done?”
Odysseus clenched his jaw. “Not even close.”
Poseidon smirked. “Go on, then.”
Odysseus bristled. This guy—this man—was enjoying this.
“You do know this isn’t the ocean, right?” Odysseus snapped. “You don’t have to turn the whole place into your personal harbor.”
Poseidon raised an eyebrow. “You do know you don’t actually own the entire neighborhood, right?”
Odysseus threw up his hands. “Oh, fantastic. My new neighbor is anarchist Aquaman.”
Poseidon chuckled. “Listen, Odysseus,” he said, and Odysseus hated the way he said his name, slow and knowing, like he was testing it. “You don’t like me. I get that.”
“Good.”
“But you don’t scare me.” Poseidon stepped closer, and Odysseus suddenly became very aware of how tall he was. “And I think,” he said, voice low and so damn smug, “you secretly enjoy all this.”
Odysseus scoffed. “You have lost your mind.”
Poseidon grinned. “Then why do you keep coming over?”
Odysseus opened his mouth, then closed it.
Poseidon tilted his head. “No snappy comeback?”
Odysseus took a sharp breath. “Fix. The. Fountain.”
Poseidon smirked. “Make me.”
Odysseus turned on his heel and marched back to his house.
---
By week three, things had escalated into an all-out war.
Odysseus started blasting sea shanties at full volume at 6 AM. Poseidon retaliated by parking his boat—yes, he somehow had a boat—halfway across Odysseus’ driveway.
Odysseus moved the boat exactly one inch every night so Poseidon would keep thinking he was going insane.
Poseidon installed a wind chime so massive and loud that Odysseus had to physically remove it in the dead of night. The next morning, it was back.
Odysseus caught him laughing about it over beer with his fishing buddies.
“Oh, you think this is funny?” Odysseus snapped.
Poseidon grinned. “Hysterical.”
Odysseus threw the wind chime at him.
Poseidon caught it. Bare-handed. Without even looking.
Odysseus hated him.
Probably.
---
Then came the storm.
A freak thunderstorm knocked out power across the neighborhood, and Odysseus found himself at his kitchen window, scowling as Poseidon stood in the rain, completely unbothered, trying to secure his boat.
Odysseus sighed.
“God damn it,” he muttered, grabbing his coat.
He stormed outside, rain instantly soaking him. “You need help?”
Poseidon turned, startled.
Odysseus crossed his arms. “Say no, and I’ll go back inside.”
Poseidon watched him for a long moment. Then, to Odysseus’ absolute horror, he smirked.
“I knew you liked me.”
Odysseus groaned. “I will let this boat capsize.”
Poseidon laughed, deep and warm, and for once, Odysseus didn’t mind the sound.
Maybe.
YOU ARE READING
Hermes' Stash
RandomHERMES' Stash Because even the god of messengers needs a secret folder. Just a simple (unhinged?) compilation of ship stories I've thrown together-ranging from Epic: The Musical and Percy Jackson to the occasional Greek god or mythological figure ge...
