Chapter 40.2 A Change of Flavor
“Ares! Get out! There’s no next time!” Venus shouted.
Poseidon gave him a long, steady look before quietly turning and leaving, a barely noticeable smile curling at the corner of his lips.
At least, in that moment, Venus’ love for Adonis surpassed his lust for “Ares.”
Venus returned to the forge, where Hephaestus was still diligently working, completely unaware of what Venus had experienced that day.
Venus was exhausted, his mind a whirlwind. He muttered a quick goodnight to Hephaestus and went straight to his room to collapse into bed. Hephaestus glanced in the direction of the bedroom, lowering the sound of his forging, doing his best not to disturb Venus’ rest.
In the dead of night, after finishing his work, Hephaestus saw that Venus was already fast asleep. Without a word, he quietly went to the room next door to sleep.
That was how it had always been between them. Whenever Venus wanted it, Hephaestus would go to the master bedroom to keep him company. When Venus didn’t ask, Hephaestus kept a respectful distance, never initiating sleeping together.
Venus acted out of his divine nature, while Hephaestus’ were driven by personal desires. So, that kind of physical closeness was never initiated by Hephaestus. He had a clear understanding of his role. He was Venus’ friend, and…… Venus’ tool for venting his lust.
Only by constantly reminding himself of this could he avoid greed, not allow his hopes to turn to disappointment, not let jealousy cloud his judgment, and not fall into madness driven by obsession.
He had seen what had happened to his mother, Hera, and how she had been betrayed despite his father’s vows. How could he dare repeat the same mistakes?
He would never blame Venus. His father had promised his mother eternal love, only to betray her in the end. But Venus had always been honest with him, never deceiving him about any emotions. It was he himself who had gotten caught up in it.
Mutual love was the most precious thing in the world. After all, unrequited love was what most people experienced. Just because he loved Venus didn’t mean he had to be loved back, Hephaestus understood this well.
He could accept that.
He thought he could accept it.
After that, Venus still sought out Hephaestus to satisfy his desires, but after tasting Ares’ flavor, Venus couldn’t help but feel that Hephaestus was lacking a little.
Hephaestus was too gentle. It never fully satisfied him.
Venus seriously and solemnly addressed the issue with Hephaestus, suggesting that he should be a bit rougher next time.
Hephaestus would always turn red and awkwardly say he understood, but the next time he became even more nervous, more cautious, not daring to hurt Venus.
Venus: “……” He could only sigh.
This cook’s skills were what they were. Maybe it was time to find a new one.
The last time with Ares was something he couldn’t forget, and it was hard to imagine finding something so perfectly suited again. But the moment he thought of Ares as Adonis’ killer, all that was left for Venus was hatred. Even if it was the most exquisite dish, it could not spark his appetite.
And he couldn’t even avenge Adonis. Ares was the God of War, a son highly regarded by both Zeus and Hera. He could never shake him.
That night, Venus was so furious he had told Ares to leave without a word. Now, having calmed down, he wanted to go to Ares himself and demand an explanation.
Why had Ares done that? Was it because of his bond with Adonis? That was completely unreasonable!
As he reached the entrance of the Temple of War, Ares eagerly approached him. “Venus, you finally came to see me! Wasn’t Hephaestus satisfying you?”
Since he himself couldn’t, Ares maliciously assumed that Hephaestus couldn’t either.
Venus recoiled in shock, stepping back.
Why had Ares’ scent changed back?
Where was the sea? Where was that vast expanse of ocean? And where was the taste that had captivated his thoughts that night?
With the true cause of Adonis’ death now on his mind, Venus could at least begin to understand the change in Ares’ scent.
Ares’ affection for Venus had started with lust, later mixed with jealousy and rivalry with other gods. The guilt from killing Adonis and the corruption of what had never been pure love had only made things worse.
Jealousy and possessiveness could act as spices in the recipe of love, but they must not be used in excess. When hatred outweighed love, the flavor spoiled and ruined the dish.
This dish wasn’t just spoiled, it was swimming in oil. Venus just wanted to cover his nose and flee as quickly as possible.
Venus decisively turned on his heel. “I’m in the wrong place.”
Venus, having escaped from Ares’ temple, was in a deep state of frustration.
He no longer needed to ask Ares about the motive for killing Adonis. The revolting scent alone was enough to show that Ares had acted out of jealousy.
Love changes, and so does the taste of love. Ares was stained with sin because of jealousy, and his taste had completely deteriorated.
Hera had also harmed many of Zeus’ lovers out of jealousy, but Venus had never imagined that such a thing could happen to him. He had believed he could protect Adonis, but Adonis had still died because of him.
Venus didn’t understand what jealousy felt like. He had never experienced it himself, yet Adonis had died because of Ares’ jealousy.
What had that scent of the sea been last time? No matter how Ares changed, he shouldn’t have smelled like that.
Too many questions lingered. Venus walked aimlessly, distracted by his thoughts, and before he realized it, he bumped into someone coming from the opposite direction.
He staggered back a step, but his arm was caught by the other person. Looking up, he saw it was Hermes.
“Venus, why the long face?” Hermes steadied him.
Venus asked, “Hermes, do you know what jealousy feels like?”
Hermes replied, “Of course I do. You married Hephaestus, and he’s become the object of jealousy for all of Olympus, including me. What’s got you thinking about this? Did he go out and find a lover to make you jealous? Surely not, it’s only been a short time since your wedding……”
As the God of Love and Beauty, Venus was born flawless. Roses came into being with him, and the thorns on those roses symbolized the jealousy of the gods toward his beauty. Later, the gods all fell in love with him, and then they were jealous of the God of Fire who got him. Venus himself, however, has never known the taste of jealousy.
He had never experienced the feeling of wanting something and seeing someone else get it. His one true love, Adonis, had loved him until death. He was born under the favor of fate, never needing to envy others. He couldn’t understand why jealousy could drive Ares to commit such a heinous act.
Venus shook his head. “No, he was always very good to me.”
“Then what’s bothering you?” Hermes raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, I might be able to help.”
Venus didn’t want to bring up the sad topic of Adonis again. He knew Hermes was just as helpless when it came to Ares. Hermes was an illegitimate child of Zeus, without any real backing, while Ares was the favored son of the King and Queen of Gods, with immense strength.
So, Venus changed the subject. “It’s just that he’s too good to me.”
Hermes looked puzzled, clearly confused. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“It is,” Venus said, frustrated. “But I like it a bit rougher in bed. Lust needs to be fully released, or else I’d feel suffocated. Hermes, you’re so smart. Do you have a solution for this?”
Hermes fell silent, probably caught off guard by the sudden shift to a late-night topic.
A few seconds later, he straightened up, looking serious, and offered, “I’ll help you solve it.”
Venus: “How exactly will you solve it?”
Hermes: “I’ll help you.”
Venus understood this time. “You? No, you’re too young.”
“……I’ve told you a thousand times, I’m not too young! And besides, being young has its advantages, I’m strong and full of energy, you know?” Hermes responded confidently. “And anyway, how would you know unless you try?”
He didn’t look small either. His body was of a seventeen or eighteen boy. He had all the right features, and he was even a bit taller than Venus.
Venus hesitated for a moment.
Hermes’ scent was quite appealing, and it wasn’t impossible to give it a try.
“It’s fine if you haven’t decided yet,” Hermes said with a knowing smile. “When you’re ready, come find me. I’ll be available anytime.” He extended a polite offer, “I’m heading back to my palace now, would you like to join me?”
Going with him meant agreeing, while staying behind would be a refusal.
Venus steeled his resolve and made up his mind.
In the vineyard of the God of Wine.
A carefree and languid beautiful man leaned against a wicker chair, leisurely peeling grapes with his long fingers.
“You’re always here peeling grapes. Venus has already found an owner, and he hasn’t come to see you much lately, right?” A dark-haired youth said as he strode into the vineyard, sitting down without ceremony to eat the grapes Dionysus had peeled. His words were tinged with a hint of gloating.
“He won’t be coming today either, so I’ll just finish these grapes for him.”
Hermes made no effort to dress properly, leaving his collar open, and the scratches on his chest were particularly noticeable.
Dionysus lazily glanced at him. “What, breaking your cherry is worth flaunting around like this?”
Hermes stuffed a grape into his mouth. “I may not have as much experience as you, but Venus was my first. Quality over quantity.”
“He was your first, but you weren’t his,” Dionysus said with a knowing smile. “He’s the God of Pleasure, so don’t get too wrapped up in it.”
Hermes responded irritably, “Do I need you to remind me?”
The young man lowered his dark eyes, his tone still nonchalant. “He’s my friend.”
And that was all he could ever be.
Hermes, the second smartest god after Athena, knew better than anyone that falling truly in love with the God of Pleasure never ended well. Even if he had feelings, he would have to crush them before they went any further.
It was just a bit of affection, nothing he couldn’t walk away from in time.
Hermes furrowed his brows. “Why are these grapes so sour?”
“Only after finishing the whole plate do you complain it’s sour,” Dionysus scoffed. “I think it’s your heart that’s sour.”
Hermes: “……”
Venus wearily pushed open the door to the Temple of Fire.
The boy was certainly a handful, with no sense of restraint. Hermes might have been more willing to use force than Hephaestus, but his technique was clumsy, and the strength wasn’t applied in the right way. It couldn’t compare to the ocean-like intensity of Ares that had lingered in his mind.
No, why was he thinking of Ares again? That god was truly rotten to the core!
The more dishes he tasted, the more he realized that gourmet delicacies were irreplaceable. Finding a lover who was a perfect match in every way was a rare, almost impossible thing.
“Venus, you’re back. I made—” Hephaestus had been walking toward him, about to finish his sentence, but his words suddenly caught in his throat, and the smile faded from his face.
He saw the hickey on Venus’ neck.
That wasn’t his mark.
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