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Antilochus whined and buried his face deeper against his lover’s chest.
Patroclus shushed him once more, stroking his hip soothingly with his thumb and kissed his temple. The scent of myrrh and cedar calmed the younger Prince as his moans pressed against skin.
Antilochus was surrounded by warmth. Achilles’ smooth and solid chest was pressed against his arching back and Patroclus’ body settled against Antilochus’ front.
His arms were looped around Patroclus’ neck and he whispered quiet apologies each time his nails dug into Patroclus’ skin.
It wasn’t quite his fault, if he were being honest. Achilles had him pinned down and would sheath his heavy drooling length inside him at such a torturous pace, it made Antilochus gasp whenever it sank into him to the hilt.
His own cock was also trapped between Patroclus’ soft pillowy thighs and sent trembling pleasure lolling throughout his pelvis.
Achilles snapped his hips forward and sheathed his cock. He moaned, a thick and heavenly sound, and wrapped his lips on Antilochus’ shoulder. He suckled and lapped him as if he tasted divine and sweet.
Antilochus gasped and whimpered at the sensation, attempting to burrow his cock deeper between Patroclus’ thighs.
Patroclus clicked his tongue and spread his legs further, not allowing Antilochus to thrust shallowly within them.
The loss of heat and touch made Antilochus want to sob. They had been stringing him along for hours and have already spilled countless times while he hasn’t been permitted a single climax.
It was beginning to make him desperate and petulant. Not that he would trade this for anything else in the world.
“Oh Tilo,” Patroclus murmured against his skin, applying light touches along the Pylian’s hip causing Antilochus to shudder, “Such a poor sweet thing.”
Achilles groaned a soft agreement as he ravished the back of Antilochus’ neck with fervent kisses. Lapping his sweat like it was the richest wine, and damn near purring in delight.
Patroclus tilted Antilochus’ chin to meet his gaze and slotted his mouth against his Prince’s. Antilochus moaned and eagerly parted his lips to let Patroclus claim him.
Patroclus hummed a praise and slid his tongue into Antilochus’ mouth, pressing it against Antilochus’ to deepen their kiss.
”Fuck, Patroclus.” Achilles groaned, his cock throbbed within Antilochus and his thrusts began to speed with lustful vigor.
Patroclus continued to kiss Antilochus silly and wrapped his fingers on his aching length, shifting his wrist and collecting the arousal that beaded from the tip.
“Gods.” Antilochus managed against Patroclus’ demanding mouth, drool dribbling down their chins with how messy their kiss has gotten.
He yelped out of surprise when Achilles struck his arse with a harsh slap.
“There are no gods for you here, Tilo.” Achilles snapped, a terribly delicious growl in his tone, “If you moan, you will moan for us. If you come, your seed will spill by our hands. And if you cannot, you will learn what such needy whores will receive in our bed.”
“Achilles, don’t be so cruel. The poor thing meant nothing by it.” Patroclus scolded. He guided Antilochus’ cock back between his legs and pressed his thighs against it, surrounding the length.
Antilochus gave a throaty moan and arched his back mindlessly, letting Patroclus suck on his tongue while Achilles thrusted into him.
“Besides,” Patroclus purred, “Look at him. He’s been fucked silly.”
Achilles let out a considering sound, thrusting his cock into Antilochus with a him, “Perhaps. I think we’ve deprived him for too long, phíltatos.”
”Oh you do, do you?” Patroclus said. His had slid in between his own body and Antilochus’, his palm resting on the rise of Antilochus’ stomach. “With how much seed we’ve spilled inside of him, you’d think he was pregnant.”
Antilochus’ breath hitched at the thought and Achilles moaned a guttural sound. Patroclus felt his splatter on his own thighs, messy and instant. Antilochus gasped as he realized. He had just came from such a vulgar idea.
Patroclus’ eyes widened. “Damn. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
Antilochus nodded slightly but he noticed that Patroclus wasn’t looking at him when he asked that.
Achilles turned his head, his cheeks were ablaze and Antilochus suddenly processed the seed splattered on his backside and Patroclus underneath them both.
Achilles was the son of a goddess, and his blood boiled with no rest. His cock remained curved and throbbing and he drove it into Antilochus with a harsher force.
Maybe that’s how the Pylian Prince didn’t realize that the demigod came from the same thought as him.
“You’re both such filthy things.” Patroclus moaned, his own cock twitching in interest against Antilochus’ stomach.
Antilochus whimpered as Achilles fucked him with the force he had been begging for, for endless hours. Achilles’ skin slapped against his lewdly in the private tent.
“Could you imagine it?” Patroclus groaned, “Fucking him endlessly till he’s full with our seed and has no doubt been bred like our personal broodmare.”
Achilles moaned and his thrusts faltered as he pictured it. Antilochus accepted his devouring kiss with such an undignified impulse. Their teeth clashed in their passion and Achilles fisted a hand in Antilochus’ hair to keep him in place.
”He’d be so helpless.” Patroclus continued. “And utterly exhausted. He’d have no choice but to let us dote on him while he’d swell every day.”
Antilochus imagined Patroclus and Achilles taking care of him like he were their dear and devout wife.
”Of course, we’d have to take him back to Phthia with us.” Patroclus murmured, “And there, we could treat him and his needs. However desperate or whorish.”
”Fuck yes, Patroclus.” Achilles moaned, his chest pushed Antilochus further against Patroclus as he was speared with Achilles’ cock.
“We’d take such good care of you, Tilo.” Patroclus said, “Would you like that?”
”Yes.” Antilochus moaned, “Yes- please.”
”Such a good boy.” Achilles chuckled, and with a final thrust, came in Antilochus, filling him more. The Prince whined at how full he felt.
Achilles rolled off of them and the two lovers wrapped their arms around Antilochus, and he let his eyes droop from exhaustion as their warmth enveloped him.
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”Where have you been, boy?” Nestor demanded without any real anger by the lit fire, gesturing to the empty seat by his side.
Antilochus had spent the feast in the baths, cleaning himself and pushing against his stomach and feeling the rush of Patroclus’ and Achilles’ seed spilling out of him.
The feeling of it was so erotic and made his face burn with shame as he nearly came from the sensation.
He was finally able to gather himself up and stand tall as the soldier and composed man he was seen as by other men. It was like nothing had happened.
Thrasymedes cocked a brow and his gaze slid to across the fire. Antilochus followed it and saw the Myrmidons gathered.
Patroclus leaned over Achilles and offered a cup, which his companion gladly accepted with a chaste kiss to his lips.
Both men looked over to where the soldiers of Pylos were scattered and caught Antilochus’ eye almost instantly.
Antilochus darted his gaze away instantly but he saw Achilles’ curved smirk and Patroclus’ amused expression.
Thrasymedes watched the entire exchange and he eyes narrowed with obvious suspicions but said nothing as he drained his chalice.
Later that night, Phoenix caught Antilochus’ arm before he retired to his tent for the evening and told him that Achilles and Patroclus were looking for him.
By the end of the night, Antilochus was composed of bruised shoulders and throat, trembling thighs, and a whimpering moan as Patroclus and Achilles savored in their tilo.