[ the way that achilles says his name always does something to him. it's different from the way everyone else says it. the pronunciation is different. the inflection is different. the way it falls from achilles lips like sweet honey... hard as he already is, he feels himself get harder.
but he doesn't neglect his lover at all. his cheeks hollow out as he sucks, drawing achilles deeper as his hands come to rest on achilles' hips. everything about his lover is perfect, not a flaw to be found, and he revels in that as his hands and palms slide up achilles' chest. ]
(Achilles doesn't lie. When he says Patroclus's name, it is said with love; with desire. He is calling his beloved to his side and into his arms. Of course, at the moment, there is no need! Patroclus has him and Achilles can't keep quiet, panting and moaning at the suction, at those soft lips wrapped around him.
He covers the hands on his hips, threading their fingers while he watches. The perfection is beneath him, tasting him. He sees no perfection in himself - except in his ability to kill and swim. How can those talents compare to the sweetness of his soulmate?)
[ achilles may not see it, but perfection to patroclus is his lover, especially now as he is flushed with pleasure. he makes sure to keep that expression on achilles' beautiful features by sucking a bit harder and swallowing around him until achilles' length brushes the back of his throat. he's done this enough times that he's well practiced and doesn't choke, but he's still mortal and needs to draw breath. so he pulls away slowly and takes in a gulp of air before taking achilles in his mouth again, tongue swirling around his tip and lapping up the taste he finds there. ]
(The scent of sandalwood and pomegranate becomes stronger, wafting from Achilles's heated skin. His muscles clench as the pleasure intensifies and his breathing is harsh, his lips parted, his eyes hazy. Even at the height of his bliss, he is gentle with his Patroclus, moaning his name and toying with that dark, feather-soft hair. When it all becomes too much, his toes curl and he gasps, giving a sharp cry as he spills over, melting...
His Patroclus loves him. Nothing could be better. Grinning down at his beloved, he shifts gracefully, moving down Patroclus's body so that he can lay over him.)
[ the taste of achilles floods his mouth and he greedily gulps most of it down, allowing some to settle on his tongue and linger before he swallows that as well. achilles' pleasure is so unique to him ( not that patroclus would know any other's ), and he thrills in it, delights in it.
when his lover slides down his body to curl atop him, he croons softly. he's still as hard as ever and reaches for achilles' hand in order to guide him to his cock. ]
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but he doesn't neglect his lover at all. his cheeks hollow out as he sucks, drawing achilles deeper as his hands come to rest on achilles' hips. everything about his lover is perfect, not a flaw to be found, and he revels in that as his hands and palms slide up achilles' chest. ]
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He covers the hands on his hips, threading their fingers while he watches. The perfection is beneath him, tasting him. He sees no perfection in himself - except in his ability to kill and swim. How can those talents compare to the sweetness of his soulmate?)
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His Patroclus loves him. Nothing could be better. Grinning down at his beloved, he shifts gracefully, moving down Patroclus's body so that he can lay over him.)
Patroclus.
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when his lover slides down his body to curl atop him, he croons softly. he's still as hard as ever and reaches for achilles' hand in order to guide him to his cock. ]
Achilles... please, I have need.