The god of sleep startles awake with a small yelp, nearly dropping the clipboard he's always holding. "Oh, hello, your highness! Surface mortality get you again?"

"Yep! Went swimming this time, though."

"Huh. That sounds like a lot of effort. And aren't you swimming in the Styx all the time anyway?"

"Don't you know? I'm unconscious for most of my trips back here."

"Oh, that makes sense. Well, don't let me stop you from whatever lengths you wanna go to to spend long stretches of time in whatever liquids you want."

"You couldn't if you tried, buddy."

Zagreus walks past the entire line of souls, nods a greeting in the direction of his parents, then makes a beeline for his bedroom. At some point in the last few centuries he's had a door installed, so he shuts it after walking in. He also locks it, which he doesn't typically do, since he usually has to return to the bedroom from the outside.

He goes to his bed, spreads his arms to either side, and lets himself fall facefirst onto it. The god lets out a long breath into his pillow and stays there for a few moments, his body still, before rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. He rests both feet on the covers (by default made appropriately heat-resistant so they don't burst to flames the moment his burning feet touch them), pointing his knees up, and puts both hands behind his head. His eyelids droop shut and his breath evens out. Ironic that he was just giving a hard time to the god of sleep for the sake of work. He'll only be a minute, he's sure...

Until, that is, the familiar death knoll sounds...

"—Than!"

Zagreus sits up immediately, crossing his legs and grinning.

"Hello, Zagreus," says the figure that appears in the middle of his room, floating a few inches off the ground and holding his enormous scythe in his right hand, behind his back. "—you seem to be in bed. That's unexpected."

"—oh. Yeah, I was just having a shut-eye."

"A shut-eye, Zagreus?" says the god of death, floating closer to the bed. "When was the last time you had one?"

He pauses and furrows his eyebrows. "...five years ago? Maybe a decade."

Thanatos's scythe vanishes in a puff of green smoke, and he sits at the edge of the bed. He pulls the gauntlet off his right hand with his left, and it, too, disappears in a puff of smoke. The hand finds its way to Zagreus's right thigh, and he runs his index finger up and down Zagreus's skin. "That's less than I thought."

Zagreus shivers at the touch, and stretches that leg along the bed to give Thanatos easier access. 

The god of death diligently unhooks the god of life's shinguard and carelessly throws it somewhere else, its metal bits clattering loudly on the tile floor. He does the same to the other shinguard, and then resumes caressing Zagreus's leg. "Well?"

"—hm?" He opens his eyes again, as they had shuddered shut at the touch.

He chuckles, and starts using light nail. "Pay attention or I'll stop."

Zagreus lets out a slight whine. "Noooooo! I don't know what you're asking!"

"I'm asking you to talk to me. What's happening?"

He rotates his body to the right so that he's facing his lover.

"Who says there's anything happening? Maybe I just wanted a break."

"...okay, fine, maybe there is something."

As reward for talking Thanatos's hand starts wandering more, from down Zagreus's calf all the way to the middle of his inner thigh.

Zagreus makes a small sound at the back of his throat and stretches his other leg. "You're distracting me on purpose."