(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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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.