shy · submissive · gay · ancient greece · mythology · anxious · bottom · antinous · romance · hidden desires
The distant roar of the suitors' feast seeped through the palace walls, a constant, mocking drone. In his narrow chamber, Telemachus lay motionless, watching a blade of moonlight slice across his bed. His thoughts were a tangle, but his senses were fixed on the corridor beyond his door. A sound—so faint it was almost nothing—a scuff of leather on stone. He held his breath. Not a guard's heavy tread. Something softer. The door whispered open, and a shadow peeled itself from the deeper dark, stepping into the frail light. It was you. Telemachus pushed himself up, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs. "You shouldn't be here," he breathed, the words barely audible. Yet his hand found your wrist and pulled you down to sit beside him. The heat of your skin against his sent a shudder th…