Chapter Text
Really, should Telemachus be surprised that Antinous enjoyed teasing him? Even from a young age, he would put him in precarious situations. Falling into the garden’s fountains and soaking him to the bone while the suitors laughed, tripping him and forcing his food to fly from his hands, even resorting to childish arm burns just to make him squirm. The suitors always joined in, and soon it grew to a majority of the bullying being done by Antinous’ underlings. But with age, the cruelty of their humor only progressed. It started small– shoving him into the stone walls of the hallways when he walked past and making snide comments about his appearance. Annoying, but livable. But then it turned to slaps, punches, and then all out fights that the prince was ill equipped for.
A lack of his father’s presence unfortunately appeared in the form of losing the opportunity to train as a warrior. His mother was hesitant to hire anyone to teach him, feeling that the suitors would view him as a threat and finally decide to kill him in an effort to secure the throne. Though it seemed to change the day that Antinous was the one to initiate the fight. After calling his mother a tramp, Telemachus snapped. His fists raised, unsteady but determined to at the very least put up as best a fight as he could offer.
“Oh? Want to entertain me?” Antinous fists matched Telemachus, far more certain in positioning and definitely confident in the skills he possessed. He swung first after a long pause of the two circling each other like beasts.
“Come on, little wolf– Strike!” His fist connected with Telemachus' face, an unsettling crunch echoing in the space. His nose was bleeding– not fully broken but the taste of iron coating his lips made the situation all the more real to the prince. This wasn’t the normal squabble, this was a genuine fight Telemachus took a swing of his own– the movement was sloppy and ill planned, which allowed Antinous to grab him in a choke hold. His windpipe was crushed by a wall of muscle, collapsing under the sheer strength the other possessed. His fingers clawed at Antinous’ arm, bringing fresh rivulets of blood in their wake. Though it wasn’t enough for the older to release his hold. He was quickly running out of oxygen, his cheeks flushing to a near purple as his eyes looked around wildly for some sort of way out. That’s when it came to him. His bicep was just close enough– close enough that his teeth could snap into dark, muscular flesh and cause the older man to actually yelp.
“You little brat--” He nearly flung the boy, Telemachus stumbling to get into another pose for a fight. He wasn’t as strong as his father, not as wise as his mother, but the gods be damned if he gave up. And it seemed a certain goddess would answer to his bravery, to guide him through the motions as he landed an uppercut on his foe. She pressed him on, encouraging the little wolf to fight and snarl and bite until his body was exhausted and even she could recognize that she had pushed him too far.
“Go back and cry in your corner, little wolf. Lick your wounds, for they won’t be the last.” Antinous words were dangerous, a promise and threat all in one. Something that terrified Telemachus as he slowly limped to his bed chambers. A long conversation with Athena ended in the goddess promising to teach him and that they were indeed friends. Even if he was sore and injured, he was simply overjoyed that he got in a fight and didn’t die. In fact, he’d proudly claimed it as the best day of his life to the woman, causing her owlish eyes under her helmet to glimmer with a fond memory of someone long ago. And when she finally departed, Telemachus couldn’t feel sad– instead a feeling of pride that Athena had chosen to bless him like he had done his family so long ago swelled in his chest. Though the pride was squashed as quickly as it bloomed when he opened his door to retrieve some food. A large hand pushed into his sternum, knocking the young prince back while the door shut heavily behind the intruder.
Antinous.
And he looked far from pleased as he clicked the lock shut and turned back to the boy. Telemachus had never felt so small than in this moment, staring up at the other before he was being dragged to his bed by the scruff of his neck and nearly tossed onto it. He barely had time to roll over before the suitor climbed over top of the boy, pinning his hands above his head before he snarled. It instantly caused the prince to freeze, unsure of what was to happen now.
“Did you enjoy trying to spite me, little wolf? The pup gets a good strike in, and he thinks he can hold his own?” He leaned forward.
“You want a real fight? I’ll give it to you.” The man held both wrists in one hand as he tugged off a leather belt that helped to bind the fabric of his chiton close to his frame and prevent it from becoming an issue in battle. Though it seemed to be a different type of fighting he intended as he bound the younger’s wrist with the belt.
“What are you–”
“Don’t think I don’t understand what you are doing, Telemachus.” The prince felt his lips snap close as he heard the syllables of his name leave Antinous’ mouth.
“You claim you fight for your mother’s honor, that you act like such a brat to protect her and wait for a father who has been gone for years. And yet, it seems that you only ever defy me.” He leaned close, their noses nearly touching as he seemed to be observing Telemachus for some sort of answer that he was hinting at.
“A naughty little wolf who wants a master to train him. That’s what you seek, no?” Immediately, the prince’s cheeks were dyed a dark crimson at the accusation.
“I– What?? No–! What in all of Greece would make you think that?!” Antinous seemed to scoff, pulling back so he was towering over the prone boy beneath him.
“You act so innocently. Don’t think I am ignorant to those stares you give me. How you watch me like you think I am the prey when all you are is a little pup who wants someone to call him a good boy. How you’re always flushed when we grow too close. How even after this fight, you still left with a little bat of your lashes, you fucking tease.” He didn’t… No, he surely wasn’t doing that, was he? Every interaction that Telemachus could think of, he couldn’t recall any of those things, and yet… The conviction in Antinous’ voice made him believe it. Perhaps he stared too long, batted his lashes as a part of the jabs they threw back and forth at one another, riled the suitor into hurting him just so there was contact from another human aside from his mother… Fuck. How long had he been doing this? It wasn’t intentional, that he could confirm, but it was making him nauseous to think of how the other thought he was coyly flirting like some stubborn maiden refusing his hand in marriage. Like how his mother did.
Antinous studied him a bit longer before bending down to bury his nose into the dark curls of Telemachus’ hair. He breathed deeply, catching the scent of lavender and olive oil that he anointed his body with after bathing.
“Little wolf… Do you understand what today has done to me? Done to you?” Calloused hands trailed along the younger’s frame, lighting a different kind of fire within him.
“I… Antinous, we shouldn’t…”
“Shouldn’t? Or are you simply afraid of the consequences that you’ve wrought, pup? Don’t worry, I promise you’ll enjoy it.” Telemachus’ worried his lower lip with his teeth, considering the proposition. If it was quick, he could quickly forget it. Pretend it was an ill begotten dream that Aphrodite sent as a little prank. She liked to do that to him from time to time in the past, so perhaps he could convince himself that this too was one of those instances.
“I… Just this once… And then never a word about it.” The suitor let out a bark of a laugh, clearly amused by the other’s half hearted attempt to show some control over the situation.
“Of course, dear prince.” The younger shuddered, not at all used to hearing any of the suitors, let alone Antinous, refer to him properly. Especially with the possessive tone that the older bared in his voice.
Teeth grazed his neck dangerously– a warning, a want– and then they dug into the junction of where neck meets shoulder. Telemachus gasped, back arching in surprise before he whined softly. Antinous licked the wound, chuckling deeply.
“An eye for an eye. Only fair after you bit me. Made a fool of me in front of everyone.” For a brief moment, panic flashed in the prince’s chest. Was this a ruse? Was this going to actually end in his demise? Antinous’ thick lips swallowing his own in a kiss quickly silenced those thoughts. He’d never been kissed before– never given a chance to really– so the rough, broken nature as teeth clicked and a tongue fought its way into his mouth was extremely foreign to him. It took his breath away each time their lips reconnected, and it sent blood rushing south to his cock. Quick enough that the suitor chuckled and palmed the erection forming under his chiton.
“Oh? Get a little excited just from kissing? Even the whores at brothels don’t reciprocate so excitedly.” Telemachus’ blush spread to his ears, and he turned his head to the side to avoid any eye contact with the man towering over him. The man sat back, straddling his thighs before speaking.
“Getting shy now? Do not worry, little wolf. I’ll let you learn how to attack first.” The bottom of Telemachus’ chiton was tugged up, exposing his cock to the cool air. He hissed at the temperature change touching his member. It was definitely uncomfortable before Antinous spit into his hand and wrapped his hand around the prince’s member. Telemachus wasn’t small by any means, actually quite decent if one was to objectively look at it, but it surely wasn’t as big as Antinous’ own cock must be given the size difference between the two.
Though as the older stroked his cock to full mast, he had to wonder if the other was feeling anything as he made Telemachus arch of the bed with aborted gasps and whimpers. His crystalline eyes blinked away pin prick tears of pleasure as he looked and saw a very obvious tent in Antinous’ own chiton. He was stroking the prince lazily, and when he made eye contact accidentally, those scarred lips split into an equally lazy but predatory grin.
“You look a lot better like this than when you’re being mouthy, boy.”
“Sh-Shut up—“ He yelped as the hand stroking his cock stopped in order to give a light swat to his balls.
“Ah, ah. You’re not in charge here, little wolf. I am.” And the certainty of his words confirmed that in Telemachus’ head. He was bound, tied and left in a vulnerable position beneath a man who could easily change from delivering pleasure to providing a far from swift death if he chose to. Briefly, Telemachus thought that the latter was his fate when Antinous leaned forward. Though he quickly realized the man was reaching to his bedside cabinet, snatching a bottle of oil that he’d left behind the night prior after half-assing his anointing ritual after his bath. He had just wanted to sleep as soon as possible and left it there as a later task to do.
Antinous seemed to change the trajectory as he used the oil to coat thick digits, and for a brief moment, Telemachus wondered if those fingers were to go inside him. But as the older man slid his chiton to the side of his thigh, hiked half way and revealing a heavy and thick cock that pulsed with arousal, Telemachus was quickly disproved of his assumptions.
A single digit traced Antinous’ rim, almost tauntingly so before pressing inside him carefully. It was as if all sound died and the world stilled as it slowly sunk deeper, past the first knuckle, then then second. Once it went to the third, did everything snap like a thin string barely holding on as a low groan drew Telemachus’ eyes back to his face.
“Hah… You look like you plan to eatprince became such a whore so easily just because he got to put his dick into something? Would you sound just as sweet if I was the one fucking your ass?” His words were surprisingly even, only the occasional panting interspersed and his hardon showed that it was at least affecting him as much as it was Telemachus. The younger whimpered and hid behind his bound hands before the older grasped his wrists with one hand and pinned it above his head once more.
“Ah, you don’t get to hide, little wolf. I want to see your face when I make you come. You’re taking my hole so well, after all, pet.” Despite the fact that Antinous was the one taking anything, his words did something to Telemachus. His free hand tweaked one of his nipples, making the younger gasp sharply before whining pitifully.
“Oh hush, you were being such a good boy. Are you trying to misbehave now?” He spoke as if it was an honor that Telemachus was even in this situation. Like the suitor was the actual royalty. Perhaps in his head he was. Hesitantly, Telemachus shook his head. He was going to behave, if only to get the release the man’s ass was pushing him towards. But deep down part of him wanted more, to have more of him. Suddenly, Antinous let out a hiss of pleasure as the tip of Telemachus’ dick hit something deep inside him. Something that made his movements more uneven as he clenched around him.
Both their breaths quickened, pleasure racing under their skin. Telemachus was the first to crumble, spurting his cum in Antinous before the other rode his oversensitive cock to find his own release. It landed thickly across his stomach, painting it white and reaching as far as his chest. It was already cooling when Antinous rose off his temporary throne and dropped beside the prince’s body in order to avoid crushing him.
A small mercy.
Their labored breathing mixed together, the room now smelling of sweat, sex, and olive oil. Telemachus was the one to speak first when Antinous rose away from him.
“Antinous—“
“Quiet, brat.” He slipped away to the connected bath, returning after a few minutes that felt like an eternity. He carried a wet cloth, his own body freshly cleaned of their passionate fucking, and used it to wipe the cum off Telemachus. He swiped it over his cock as well, looking far too pleased when the younger mewled like a sweet kitten seeking affection. Perhaps he was.
Once they both were cleaned, Antinous fell back into the spot by Telemachus and unbound his wrists. Sleep was starting to take hold of the prince, but for a brief moment, he could almost swear that the suitor had kissed the reddened marks the belt had left behind. Chocolate eyes stared at lidded aquamarine ones.
“Don’t stare. Just go to bed, boy.” And he obliged, curling up far closer than was probably reasonable to the man before he fell into Hypnos’ world of slumber.