“... And for Channel Six-Seven News, I’m Phrixos Greenberg, Good news and Good night!”

Backing the anchor chair up, Phrixos stood up and stretched his long, lean 5 '10” body.  He ran his hands over his dark curly hair, and stubbly chin.  His body stood crumbled yet a once pristine portrait of professional journalism, with suspenders, creased pants and jacket, classic black on white ensemble.  

He grabbed his suit jacket and overcoat, squashed his well-loved fedora over his curls, and made sure he had his keys and briefcase out of his office before he caught the last train home to his loving husband.

1612 Flaxoak Circle was a tidy bungalow with a 1989 VW bus in the driveway.  Phrixos walked by it, glancing at the steamed up windows, before turning to make his way to the door, slipping his key in to find the door already open.  He shook his head, and pocketed his key and pushed his way through the door.  The smell of vanilla-scented candles and Vienna sausages assaulted his senses in greeting.  

The lights were off except for the one in the hall that led to the bedroom. Setting his briefcase down on the couch and kicking off his shoes, Phrixos found his husband bent over the bathtub, testing the water.  The view of his pierced cunt and the mirror-bottomed butt plug as he was bent over made Phrixos smile. 

“Mm, now that’s a welcoming sight,” he flirted in greeting.

Anaximenes turned around, eyes wide with his long lashes, and smiled with lips smeared with glittery gloss. 

“Just in time!” He swooned, and the dangling nipple-pasties he wore swayed as he sashayed over to throw his arms around Phrixos and plant a wet kiss on his lips.  Phrixos moaned in self-restraint as he pushed his husband gently back on his shoulders. 

“What is all this?”

“What’s it look like? It’s a bubble bath with tiny wieners and grapes for the balls.  Oh, and some new scented candles that Dora Jean made, before she and  Zsa-Zsa started their own fun.  I’m sure you saw, since she parked her van outside. I don’t think that van will fit in our garage.  So I told her not to be too loud to bring shame upon our house from the judgement of these prudish neighbors.”

“Wieners and Grapes, seriously, Anaxi, what is this?”

“I know you’re nervous about your interview tomorrow with the Drag Queen Activist. I thought this would help you relax.”

“I thought you were going to be present for that interview.”

“Yes. That hasn’t changed.”

Phrixos quirked a brow at Anaximenes and tilted his head at him admonishingly, folding his arms across his chest.  And the other man’s shoulders wilted a bit. 

“Okay fine! I was the one nervous, okay? I wanted to make some Achillean treats for myself and get all wet and soapy because you know the water relaxes me like no other element. You’re the fiery one so that’s why the candles.  Do you like the candles at least?”

Anaximenes looked so… plucked and defeated.  Phrixos frowned and moved to wrap his arms around him and kissed an affectionate peck on his forehead,  “You have no reason to be nervous. We’ll have a great time and it's for a great cause.  And I love the candles.”  He tilted his husband’s chin up to kiss his lips. 

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Not just saying that.”

Resuming the kiss, deepening it even, Phrixos backed his husband toward the tub. One hand taking the suspenders down from one shoulder then the other, Anaximenes working on unbuttoning his dress-shirt, and then unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks. Soon they were both naked. The trail of discarded clothes looked like a happy trail to the throne of a bathtub, up on atop a pedestal after climbing up a short staircase. The vanilla candles were all around the border of the bubbling tub. And there was giant bowl of wieners and grapes on the alcove/windowsill of the small stained glass window of the Greek god, Dionysus above the tub on the back wall.  

Surrounded by soapy water, Anaximenes sat between Phrixos’s legs, his back to his chest.  

“Mm, this is nice.  Feed me another wiener, my love?”

Chuckling, Phrixos asked,  “You don’t want any grapes?”

“Of course, but wiener first. Length before shape? Or some such witty thing here.”  Anaximenes said as he half turned and opened his mouth.  Phrixos hummed a low, masculine sound.  “What if I gave you my wiener instead?”

Anaximenes opened his eyes, “But you’re all covered with soapy water. Hardly proper seasoning.  Maybe once you dry off, you can be my dessert?”

“Vienna sausages and grapes are not a meal!”

“Chillax, Papi, I’m trying to be luxurious and flirtatious here. Stop being such a parent right now.”

“You’re right.”

“I know I am.  Now, feed me a wiener!”

With a laugh, Phrixos reached to feed his husband a Vienna sausage and then a couple grapes.  

“Mmm, now I’m all horny.  You should play with my wiener, good sir.”

“Oh, you are being much more self-serving than usual. Is Narcissus riding you right now?”

“Maybe?”

“Anaxi…”

“I can’t control when they visit me, Phrixxy.  I just know that when they are within me, I get … so ... incredibly … horny.”  

Turning to kiss his husband, he reached to guide his hand, between his legs.  “Stroke it.  You know how much it misses you…”

“Yes, I do know.”

Fingers found a hard tdick and began stroking it - creating small tidal waves around the come hither, stirring strokes.  Anaximenes was leaning his head back against Phrixos’s chest.  “Yes. That’s it...” He sighed. 

The water was warm and perfect. The flickering candle flames were adding another layer to the heat that the steamy bubble bath and the steam of lust between the two men -– giving a multi-dimensional depth of the desire fogging the glass of every surface in this room - as if the air itself was getting wet from arousal and had to cling to any surface and make it known. Even the wooden door was starting to swell from the humidity.  

Phrixos found Anaximenes’s piercing and lightly pulled and played with it between strokes of his tdick.  “Oh, you filthy tease, I was just about to cum, why did you stop?!”  He pouted.  

“Because I didn’t want you to cum yet.”

“Why not? You knew this whole thing was to help me relax.”

“I want that orgasm to squirt in my mouth.”

Anaximenes’s eyes went wide.  “Mm, well when you put it that way.’

They made out and washed each other for a bit longer before they drained the tub, and each of them carried a candle into the bedroom. The room was dark, only the moonlight through the blinds.  Each walked to their side of the bed.  And set their candle on their nightstand.  Climbing into bed, the sound of skin against silk and cunt against cotton.  They spread legs and fingers.

Phrixos lay on top of Anaximenes  - hot breath against his neck,  “Am I to be your Echo tonight?”

“Be my Psyche, and love me in the dark, and I’m sure Narcissus will have left me by morning.”

“Does he ever leave when you expect him to?”

Anaximenes chuckled, “No, almost never, in fact.”

“Mm, that’s what I thought. But if I make him cum really hard, maybe he’ll be satisfied enough to leave so my husband can suck me off to help me sleep.”

“You make him cum hard all the time. That’s why he keeps coming back.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.”

“I’m not. But you go the extra mile to make him cum, and then I’m just supposed to suck you off  - it's every time, Phrixos.  I’ve caught the pattern of it.”

“Feeding your gods is hard work, my love.”

Anaximenes scoffed a chuckle,  “My gods? I thought they were our gods.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No it isn't.’

“Are we really going to argue about this, or are you going to let me make you cum?”

“As if I’m in the mood now, that you’ve confessed this crisis of faith you’re having.  Phrixos, baby, c’mon we need to talk about this. I’m worried about your spiritual support.”

With an exasperated sigh,  Phrixos rolled over away from Anaximenes.  “I thought you were horny,  and now that I say one little thing, you’re not.  I’ve got a headache now from all the whiplash of my blood flow and you not making your mind up on if you want to fuck or not.”

“Whoa, whoa! Since when am I just a fuck again?? I’m your husband, we make love, Phrixos Rambert Greenberg.  What is going on right now?”

“Nothing.  Let’s just go to sleep, okay? We have a big day tomorrow.”

There was a moment of tense silence as they both lay in bed, in their own thoughts, until Anaximenes turned to Phrixos. 

“Narcissus?”

“What?”

“I knew it! You jumped bodies again.”

“Yeah. And?”

“Why? Why did you just leave me? I thought I was being a good host to you.”

Phrixos turned to look at Anaximenes, but it was the Spirit of Narcissus looking back at him in the low light of candle flame and moonlight. 

“He needed me more. He’s been sacrificing himself for others and not indulging in his own self-love enough.  Whereas that’s all you do, Anaximenes.  You indulge yourself any waking moment. It’s why I’m your patron, but your husband needs me sometimes, too.  He needs to let himself be selfish. He needs to feel your worship and attention without the prerequisite of begging you for it.” 

Anaximenes’ jaw dropped. 

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. I’ve been nothing but doting to Phrixos! I keep his hearth warm by the grace of Hestia.  I keep my baneful magic tendencies curbed when I want to unleash the furies on anyone who even looks at him like he belongs to them when he is mine!  I am a good husband! How dare you tell me otherwise!”

Narcissus smirked through Phrixos’s lips,  “Prove it."

He opened the blankets to reveal Phrixos’s naked body. 

“Make me sing like the sirens of Poseidon, a song so eternal that all of Olympus weeps.”  He challenged as he moved the blankets down and raised one leg to show off the readiness of his sex.   Anaximenes stared down at his husband’s nakedness. 

“I can’t," Anaximenes said as he looked away.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“I can’t do this.” 

Anaximenes got up from bed, wrapping a robe around himself and slipping on his house shoes.  Taking the votive candle from his nightstand and looking down at his possessed husband still in bed. 

“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.  Wake me when you release my husband, Narcissus.”

And then turned on a heel to leave the bedroom. Narcissus plopped back down on the bed, and looked internally at Phrixos whose mind he was visiting.  “Well, do you want me to go?”

“I want to go to bed. I’m beat, and I have an important interview tomorrow.  Unlike Anaxi, spirit possession doesn’t make me horny, it makes me tired.”

“Why did he leave? I thought he would have enjoyed a threesome with me and you, together? I thought I was helping!”

“I’ve been married to the man for thirteen years, and I still can’t tell you what will set him off.  And you’re an extra-dimensional entity, your vantage point far exceeds mine.”

“I suppose I shall let you sleep then.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Good night, Phrixos.”

“Goodbye, Narcissus.”

And as a new wave of tiredness washed over Phrixos, the Spirit of Self-Love, Narcissus exited his body - snuffing the fire of the candle out as he did so, as spirits often do when they travel on this plane.