Summary: as the Epic unfolds and new characters start clamoring for the camera, we’re now introduced to the unique dynamic that is Yahweh and Ba’al, the two gods to kick off this wicked scheme. Watch now as you get to learn a little more about their past. . .
“Come on, don’t have such a stick up your ass!”
Ba’al goads, is elbowing Yahweh in the side with two chalices pinched firmly between his dexterous fingers. “I told you to try and relax more, and wine’s one of the best ways to do it! One cup isn’t going to murder you.”
Yahweh grumbles a little, skeptical gaze fixed to the sloshing red liquid that just reminds him of blood, blood, blood. “I know what wine is, thank you. It’s not like I’ve never tried it before.”
Ba’al makes quite a face at him now, is wiggling the cups in front of the storm god’s face as his lips curl into a playful smirk. “Then you should know that one glass isn’t enough to, in your words, ‘make you incapable of making a kingdom.’ Every good ruler knows they need to let their hair down and unwind if they’re going to be refreshed for the next day of bullshit.”
Yahweh sighs some now, can’t help the upturn in his own lips as he leans a little into Ba’al. Ever since he arrived this morning with the supplies in tow as he promised, the two were inseparable; Yahweh had even committed the rare act of canceling his council for the day, as well as his appearance at the humans’ communal meal. They could feast upon the bounty the fertility god brought them all they wanted to; his is right here beside him. “If you think it good for me, my ‘keeper,’ then I’ll go for one.”
Fantastic! Ba’al forks it over like it’s water, shoves it prompt in Yahweh’s chest. “Drink up, then, and let’s have some fun!”
And on it goes. The pair were posted up in Yahweh’s chambers at the moment, which isn’t much considering it’s still the 11th century before Christ, yet it could not be argued he’d all the fixings of a noble: he’d the rare house made of clay for he knew how to fashion the sand into it, then topped with a stick-and-mud roof to keep it cooler than most. On the floor, he had used his knowledge of weaving from Paradise to fashion an ornate rug the color of a deep red (where they sat), the hearth in the center cackling with a small fire for the sun was still just out enough to provide them with enough light to see each other.
“Alright, I take it back. . .your wine’s not too bad.”
For an old man, Yahweh then teases, lips furling now into a smirk. Ba’al scoffs, elbows him again in the side. “You’re just mad your Daddy can’t make wine this good, or else you’d be a lush on it already!”
Why the fuck else do you think I’ve got a nice court assembled in my region? Ba’al will conclude with his own, smarmy smirk. Now it’s Yahweh’s turn to scoff as he drains the cup, wants to act like he doesn’t care for it, though it holds no water considering he’s holding it out with askance for more.
“What’s that, hm? I thought you wanted to stop at one!”
Yahweh makes a face at him, something bratty for certain as he scrunches his nose and narrows his eyes a little. “I changed my mind. Am I not allowed to do that?”
Oh, Good Lord, no wonder he was the designated storm god. No matter; Ba’al loves when he can rope anybody into his shenanigans, Yahweh chief among them.
“Wellllll, if you insist. . .”
And he pours another round from his jug of wine, does the same for himself because hey, he can do this all day. It’d go on as such that they move on to the third, going back and forth of tales from their respective regions. Ba’al at this time was lording over a costal city named Ugarit, and was such was not familiar with Elyon’s affairs unless asked to make an appearance, often unable to stay long and get to know the rest of the family.
“Oh, you should’ve seen it, Yam. Baalat got so hammered at this party that she tried to declare herself Goddess of my city. Mine! Then I got mad about it and tried to fight her. . .we missed every single fist and ended up passing out on top of each other for everybody to see.”
Now,
Being three drinks in is plenty to loosen any tongue, Yahweh’s included, which is why he giggled some with abandon. He’d not felt the joy of just being for a hot second, was too fixated on his goals and the wrath of his inherited lot. It was a pleasant sensation, after all. “Not nearly as funny as the time I told Shalim and Shahar to switch places for a day to confuse everybody. None of my family, Father included, woke up on time for the communal dinner. . .and you know, the twins are the open pranksters amongst us, but to this day, none of them know I orchestrated it!”
Yahweh looks smug about this feat. Ba’al just hollers, slaps his knee after a long moment of silence. “What, you don’t want the credit for messing with your blood? Most gods would be gloating about a feat like that to everybody they know.”
The younger god shakes his head, keeps the smug look on his face as he goes on. “Nah. Of course the twins were trying to tell them all the truth, but who’s going to believe them when they cry wolf so often? That’s all the satisfaction that I need.”
That I got away with something, that nobody knows it yet it succeeded all the same. “The longer I try to build this kingdom, Ba’al. . .well, everybody else thinks it’s things like getting old or having to give birth that weaken you if you step away from your post, but I find that impossible to believe. It’s being predictable that will make you lose your subjects the fastest.”
Hmm. . .interesting proposal, the fertility god thinks as he raises a brow, scrutinizes Yahweh beneath the dying light with a half-lidded gaze. He looked beautiful like that, a leg sprawled out from his pleated skirt with his long, blonde hair swaying about as he talks, moves, laughs. Ba’al was no stranger to this kind of feeling, yet there’s something about this one that grows primal, wants to claw its way out of his chest like a bull goring its matador right into the wall. It’s why, he admits, that he can’t and fails to resist the urge to brush his palm against an exposed thigh.
“You are somethin’ else, you know that?”
Ba’al then goes on, takes a deep breath in and out when those pretty crystalline eyes fall to him. “Knew there was a reason I wanted to be your keeper.”
Now it’s Yahweh’s turn to take a deep breath in, and out. He’s never done this before but enough glimpses of this handsome god with all his long, curly dark hair flowing like a river in the breeze, well. He’d enough times up in Paradise being stuck solving his own damn problem, had experimented something liberal the longer these pent-up feelings festered.
“I’m angry He never let me meet you before now.”
Yahweh then goes on, calloused fingers helping to push that hand up a little bit as his breath hitches. Ba’al was his, Goddamn it, fucking his and he would have it as such! “You know not how long I’ve wanted – “
“I do.”
Ba’al interjects with a severe tone. With the way the fire flickers, half of his face is cut off by shadow. “Trust me, I do. I’ve been around the block more times than the twins have done the whole dawn/dusk lap, but that first time I caught you looking – “
I didn’t know what to do with myself. “I think. . .I think Elyon saw, because I was about to go over and introduce myself when He told me I was dismissed. I mean, I know I’m busy, but I often found it strange how I at least met the others once.”
Yahweh scowls something fierce, nose scrunched. “He’s not a fan of my inclinations. Not taking a bride won’t give Him more gods for Paradise, and none of my other siblings have produced yet.”
Ba’al snorts, shrugs. He sets his cup down for good so he can run his hand up higher, starts pushing past that obnoxious armor to rub high on Yahweh’s thigh. It was such that it got a delicious shiver right out of him. “Well, seems like He’s given up on giving a fuck, ‘cause all I had to do to get Him to agree was insist that being your keeper would tame you some.”
I am not to be tamed, Yahweh hisses, though it lacks any bite when he’s already arching some into the touch.
“Yet here you are, Yam, being tamed like the wild storm you are.”
Or did you forget I can speak the language of the weather, too? Ba’al whispers in his ear with the hint of a smirk, goes for the kill shot once and for all as he gives the younger god’s cock its first squeeze. “All your physical might won’t do you a lick of good when I can shrink down your tornados to a breeze, hm?”
That’ll do it. Yahweh unravels, a dark flush across his cheeks as he arcs into the touch with a moan. He wanted this fucking man to crawl into him and rip him asunder! “Ba’al. . .”
The fertility god just chuckles, uses his now freed hand to snatch the younger god by his chin. “See? You’re much better behaved when you relax. And, since you’re complying now, I do think it’s time I show you what good behavior gets you.”
Go back to Read Part I on A03
Go Back to Read Part I On WP (Coming Soon)
Real Gods Require Blood 
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