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Hermes decided, about halfway on the flight to Stratos, that he'd rather race his dad the rest of the way there.
Sausage did not agree.
"Baby, come on, we're half a mile above the ground," he said nervously, holding Hermes closer. "I'm not letting you go."
"Come on," Hermes protested, kicking his legs in midair as Sausage adjusted his wings minutely to stay balanced. "Please, Papá?"
Sausage sighed. "No. It's too dangerous. We can try flying from somewhere lower to the ground the next time you're at Sanctuary."
Hermes pouted, even though Sausage couldn't see, and tried to enjoy the view from way up here. It was a nice, sunny day, the type where the shepherds would herd their cloudbanks of sheep across the fields and rest under the olive trees. It wasn't like the wings on their sandals were that small, though! He could still fly with them!
Stratos slowly came into view, a graceful behemoth slung amongst the skyfields of the heavens and the reared fences of the mountain ranges to the east. It hung with an easy, loping grace, held affixed in place by gravity to a central island, like the spokes of a wheel.
If you didn't think about it too hard, it was plausible to think that this shining sapphire set in the sky's gauzy gold was the center of the universe itself.
To Hermes, it may as well have been, the only other place in this universe that was a fixed point for him. The other was Sanctuary, a haven set firmly on the ground as opposed to Stratos' lofty aspirations.
Both places were home to Hermes, not least because of the emperors that lived there and shared custody of them.
"Hello," called Sausage as he set them down gently on what passed for solid ground way up here, "we're home," but the god did not answer. He rarely did.
"Is Sky Papi in one of his moods?" whispered Hermes.
"Oh, knowing your papí, he's always in one of his moods," chuckled back Sausage. "I brought him enchiladas, though, his favorite. He'll come around quickly. Just you see."
Joel chose that moment to stride nonchalantly around a corner where he'd been crouched, fidgeting with a grotesque sitting amiably on one of the pillars nearby. He must have not taken a swim in the fountain lately, thought Hermes, because instead of his "normal" 11ft height, the Sky God was indeed looking closer to 8 today- not much taller than Sausage's 6ft. Hermes did not say a word. He knew better than that.
"¡Hola, mi amado!" Sausage exclaimed cheerfully, arms spread wide. "I missed you!"
"Sausage," said Joel simply, leaving it at that. He nodded once. "Welcome back."
"I brought Hermes with me, and your shipment of wood," said Sausage, ignoring Joel's tone and keeping his signature grin. "Extra hard, just how you like it." He patted the shulker box he'd taken out of the bundle slung over one shoulder. "And something extra."
"Extra, huh?" asked Joel, crouching down again to look. "What more could I want than your hard wood?"
Now, at this point, Hermes had heard enough. Usually, when the conversation reached this point, he slipped off to see if whoever he'd been dropped off at's kingdom had been further expanded upon, or built. They liked hovering around Stratos, and sitting with their back to the spire on top of Joel's house, and going down to the village and buying fruit from the farmer's stalls and hearing their gossip. It was way better than having to sit through listening to his dads flirt, anyways. He sighed and wondered, for the fiftieth time, why were they like this?
But as he wandered inside Joel's house to look for pineapples in the fridge, a snidge of conversation outside caught their ear. They crept to the window to listen, interest piqued.
"Chorizo enchiladas with cheese sauce," Sausage said brightly. "Fresh out of the oven!"
"Thanks," said Joel, sounding mildly confused.
Sausage had picked up on the tone. "What do you mean, 'thanks?' It's a gift!"
"I mean, it is, and a very tasty gift, but it's not... like. Enchiladas can't buy too much."
"You're selling my enchiladas?" asked Sausage, suddenly sounding hurt and somewhat angry. Hermes giggled to himself and peeked his head above the window. This was gonna get interesting. Next to them, a white cat jumped onto the windowsill and watched the unfolding soap opera with detached interest.
"No, I'm not," said Joel quickly, backtracking. "I just mean- σκατά," he muttered, "you know what kind of man I am, Sausage. Gold would have gone farther, as a gift."
"Gold?" asked Sausage, indignant now. He crossed his arms, and Joel flinched. "Joel Smallishbeans, money cannot buy happiness. It cannot even cure happiness for more than five minutes. If you try to eat gold, you will have a sore stomach. But food? Food is something you can share easily. In that way, my enchiladas are worth far more than your shiny metals."
Joel gaped, and Hermes grinned. "Go, Papá," he whispered silently from the window. Neither man had noticed them yet.
"I mean, yeah," Joel stuttered, stepping back a bit, "but- but you can just buy more enchiladas with gold! So in a way, it does buy happiness?" His voice cracked, and Sausage's eyebrows went down.
(Something Hermes had noticed after months of witnessing his fathers' arguments, some light hearted, some less, was that despite Joel almost always being the tallest man in the room, Sausage was the more intimidating one. Today was no exception.)
"Joél Frijoles Pequeños," said Sausage slowly, pronouncing every word distinctly. Joel froze, and Hermes could tell that he was poised to run. "Do not tell me that you value a soulless coin more than these enchiladas that I baked for you with my own hands!"
Joel cleared his throat and ran an apology under his breath in Greek, something that Hermes couldn't hear at this range. Sausage raised an eyebrow. "What was that?"
"Sausage, please, you don't have to go off like this," tried Joel, visibly sweating now. "It's just an enchilada-"
"JUST AN ENCHILADA?" Sausage roared, and Hermes backed away from the window. "So all this effort I'm putting into this alliance is just a business maneuver? Every time I wake up at two in the morning and wonder if you are safe is just a professional interest? Hermes is just an armor stand? Is this all this means to you, hijo de puta?"
Inside the house, Hermes quickly stepped towards the door. He had heard too much. Time to leave.
"You keep our son out of this," Joel said now," low and threatening. "You know I didn't mean it like that. Your enchiladas are fine, Sausage. I'm sorry for what I said. Thank you for the shipment." Hermes paused at the door, and outside the window, Joel sighed.
"I still love you, you know," he said. "Trust me on that. But I just- have a lot on my plate."
"I know," said Sausage gently. "We have two very different ideas of what love is in our heads, I think. We just need to talk about it more. We'll get it figured out."
"Later, though," said Joel. "We can do that later. Hermes only just got here, and I was going to go get him some lunch later."
"Of course, on your time," said Sausage. "See you in two weeks?"
"Too long," said Joel. "Does Wednesday work?"
"Wednesday works," agreed Sausage. Hermes walked back out of the front door just in time to give his papá a hug, and Sausage ruffled his hair. "Be good," he said with a smile. "I'll be back soon. I love you. Goodbye."
"Love you too," said Hermes. "Bye!" He waved as Sausage flew off.
"Well," said Joel as Hermes turned back around. He wore a devious grin underneath that beard of his. "I heard someone wanted some flying lessons, hmm?"