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It has always been like this, and it will continue to be so. Fated, foresworn, forewarned, no matter what you call it.
The first thing Antionus saw was that Prince Telemachus took more after his mother than his father, king of Ithaca. Nay, this was the second thing he saw. The first was the thought that surely there was no way Queen Penelope looked that young, after so many years.
It turned out that there was no miracle at play here, the young maiden he supposedly saw wasn’t Penelope, rather, her son. The Prince of Ithaca.
Upon looking closer, Antionus realised his earlier assessment hadn’t been fully correct- there was some of his warrior father in Telemachus- something in the stubborn line of his jaw, and something in the intelligence of his dark, doe-like eyes. Antionus finished his assessment by thinking to himself, the young prince won’t be a problem.
This was true as well as false. Telemachus wasn’t much of a fighter, especially not in the face of all the suitors, most of them older and much hardened than him. He might be a good tactician, and fast on his feet when it suited him, but it would be some time before he could go head-to-head with the rest of them.
No, the problem lied with him. The way Antionus couldn’t help but notice the way the prince’s sun-darkened hair smelled continuously of citrus when they happened to brush his nose. The way, when once Antionus grabbed at him in jest, that his waist fit almost perfectly within the large band of Antionus’ fingers. The way Telemachus’ smile seemed to mock and call out to him in equal measures, like the sirens of legend. Antionus was sure, if he tried to go closer, they’d find his dead and flayed body on the rocks in the shore of Telemachus’ perfect mouth.
That didn’t stop him from wanting, wanting, wanting. The months and years passed upon all of them, and he was aware that he needed to get on with his plan to become the King Consort of Ithaca needed to move forward, but how could he think of that when all his dreams consisted of but one thing?
One of those dreams was plaguing him again. The same faces, looking down on him, Sinon’s face, eyes wide and pleading, soon morphing into the battle hardened face of the trickster Odysseus, and then when he looked away, he was looking at Queen Penelope. She had always intimidated him, with her expressionless eyes that always seemed to find him lacking in some regard or the other. Behind her the other suitors were snickering and pointing at him, and she stepped forward, regal as a goddess, opening her mouth to chastise him about something, when-
Suddenly her form changed, morphed and Antionus was looking down at a similar face, with a sharper jaw and wide eyes and an open mouth.
Telemachus.
He opened his mouth, and Antinonus could’ve sworn his impossibly luminous eyes got even bigger, and a draft of cold wind washed over him-
Antionus’ eyes snapped open, and he couldn’t have said what alerted him to the intruder in the room, but thank Zeus it did. He structured his breathing as he gradually got aware of someone creeping inside his room, thinking they were quiet enough. He couldn’t make out who it was in the darkness, though it seemed to be quite an unskilled assassin. The ruckus they were creating could’ve awoken Kronos himself.
The intruder reached his bed, and stood there for a moment, as if trying to decide how to proceed next. Antionus tensed all his muscles, and just as a hand crept out in the darkness, he grabbed it and tackled the the intruder onto the bed with him.
“Uffff!”, the breath whooshed out of their person as Antionus put his entire weight on their wriggling form. “Let me- let me go! Antionus! It’s me- it’s-”
Antionus stopped abruptly as he registered the voice. “Prince Telemachus?”, he asked incredulous, as he shifted his weight to peer at him. “What in the name of Hera are you doing?”
Telemachus huffed, trying to to slip out. “Let me out, I’ll tell you-”
“Uh-uh. Not so fast my prince.” Antionus grabbed his wrists in one hand- they were so delicate- and pushed them above his head. His other hand slithered up Telemachus’ midsection, his chest, and finally came to rest lightly on his throat, even as the prince stopped moving entirely and went completely still. “Why are you here, young wolf? Thinking of finishing me off once and for all, hmm? Did you think you’d get away with violating Zeus’ Law? Did you think I’d be so tranquil so as to let you creep up on me and do as you wish? Did you-”
Telemachus resumed his wriggling in full earnestness. “Nay, nay! That isn’t so! I came because- because I need your help!”
Antionus paused. “Help with what?”
Telemachus looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes. “I- I need you to teach me how to fight. Mentor does what he can, but I fear he cannot teach me all of what I need to know to protect myself.”
Antionus stilled. The air turned dark and dangerous between them. “Protect yourself? From what? You’re the prince of Ithaca, who would dare-”
Telemachus huffed impatiently. “Of course, none would dare harm me directly. But- but they find other ways. The suitors. A playful spar. Shoving between comrades. All in jest, they say. But it hurts, Antionus.” The last part came out almost in a whine as Telemachus went soft and pliant beneath him and turned his face away to let out a soft whimper into the pillow.
Antionus, meanwhile, didn’t trust himself to start raging this very instant. How dare they? How dare any of them?
Making his voice as soft as possible to not startle the prince, he asked, “Did they hurt you?”
Telemachus gave a shaky nod, still not looking at him. “Where?”
“It’s near my knees, today.”
Today. Which meant they had hurt him in the name of rough play, before. Antionus swore he would give them a hundred times the hurt, for daring to even put their hands on what was to be rightfully his, soon enough.
Pitching his voice low, he asked,”Could you show me where?”
Finally Telemachus turned his head to look at him and nodded. His eyes were watery with unshed tears. Antionus stopped himself from swearing and gently freed one of Telemachus’ hand from his grip, keeping the other right where it was. The prince trailed his hand down to the edge of his chiton, and slowly raised up the hem. Up, and up. Antionus shifted slightly to give him space, and his eyes trailed downwards as Telemachus raised his right knee to bring it to better light. There was a bruise, purplish and angry, that stretched all the way from his knee, in spots, upwards to his upper thighs, which were still hidden by his chiton. He couldn’t hide all of them, however, and Antionus cursed again as he saw the trail. This wasn’t just the marks of a young man’s training or sparring, these were wounds deliberately put.
”They surrounded me,” Telemachus began, “all of them. They said it was just to be a short spar, to see how much I had learnt. Amphinomus went first, and I was winning against him, when someone tripped me. It was a trap, plain and clear. I went sprawling down, and then Amphinomus whacked me with his sword, on the back of my thighs. I would’ve gotten up, but he didn’t stop. He kept on hitting me with his wooden sword, over and over.” His eyes closed as the memory washed over him. “They were all jeering at me. Someone kicked me on- on my rear side. I lay in the mud and dust as they all laughed at me and went away. I had to take a bath to clear all the dirt off me. That’s when I knew I had to learn from someone on how to protect myself against these dirty tricks.”
Antionus had begun caressing the boys thighs, up and down, up and down, just so he was concentrate on something and not go off in a rage to kill someone. With effort he gentled his voice and said,” And you thought to come to me?”
Telemachus looked up at him shyly. Something in his voice caught as he replied,” You’re the only one I trust, right now. The only one who hasn’t used me for play.”
Antionus almost bawled over at this extremely incorrect assessment of him. The only one who hasn’t used me for play.
If only the prince knew. He’d start running, and run away so far it would be impossible for Antionus to catch him. “Prince, I am honoured that you thought of me to protect you. However, I must confess, I am largely an inept teacher.” Seeing Telemachus’ face fall, he added hastily,” But don’t worry. I’ll have a talk with all the rest of the suitors here. Rest assured, they won’t trouble you again.”
The prince’s face brightened. “Truly? You’d do that?” Then his face fell again. “But- but what happens when you’re not here, and I have to fight? When I have to protect my mother?”
“My prince-”
“No.” Telemachus’ face took on a specific stubborn cast. “You will teach me, Antionus. I must learn.”
“But-“
Something shifted then. Mayhaps it was the prince deciding with royal authority to take what he wanted, or maybe it was Aphrodite deciding to drip her ichor on them. Whatever it was, Antionus figured it didn’t bode well for him.
Telemachus looked at him with his big eyes and said, in a whisper, “Do you not want to see the entirety of what they did to me?” And he slipped his wrist from Antionus’ hold- he had always been cleverer than anyone gave him credit for- and sat up, forcing Antionus to release him entirely and sit back on his knees. “My prince- Telemachus- I-“”
Telemachus pressed a finger to his lips, effectively shushing him as he grabbed the hem of his chiton once again. Antionus’ eyes widened as he realised what the prince was about to do- and before he could say anything other than a garbled, “No, stop-”, Telemachus had already removed the chiton in a singular, quick motion, and then the prince of Ithaca was kneeling on his bed, naked as the day he was born, apart from the gold armbands and rings that rested on his arms and fingers. Against his will, Antionus’ eyes dragged down as he took in the resplendent beauty in front of him —from his pale, swan-like neck, to his pink nipples, pebbling slightly in the night’s cold air, going down to them trim waist that had featured in multiple of Antionus’ dreams, to Telemachus’ hand, enclosing, cupping his prick out of modesty.
He would’ve lingered on his hips longer, had something else not caught his attention— the same dark, purpling bruises that had adorned Telemachus’ knee, now clearly ending their trail right on his inner thighs, dangerously close to his groin.
Antionus gave an involuntary growl as he thought of Telemachus being surrounded by all those animals, them kicking him down, hitting him on his thighs, spreading his legs-
A soft sniffle wrenched his attention from his ramblings as he looked up at Telemachus. With a start he realised the prince was openly crying now, watching him. “You-you’re disgusted by me, aren’t you? You think I’m weak to have been defeated so easily, you can’t even bear to look at me-”, Telemachus began sobbing in earnest, one of his hands going up to cover his chest and the one other scrambling briefly for his chiton.
Antionus nearly bowled over with how quickly he reached for the boy. “No! No, Telemachus! It’s not you, not at all. I was just thinking what kind of beasts they must’ve been to do this to someone like you.”
Telemachus looked up, sniffling. “Someone like me?”
”Yes, someone infinitely precious, beautiful, with more royal blood in him than-” He didn’t finish his sentence. How could he? For Telelmachus had surged up, wrapping his arms around his neck, to kiss him squarely on the mouth. For a moment, Antionus couldn’t breathe at all. And then, it was as if a dam broke inside of him. He groaned deeply into the kiss, and went for it with an intensity that surprised even him. For Telemachus tasted for summer of the distant isles, of lazing around in the sun, behind fed pieces of grapes and oranges while one believed all was good and right in this world. He tasted of every bright thing Antionus had ever dreamed of, which had been taken from him, had been kept from him.
They kissed for what felt like centuries, like millennia. Finally, when Telemachus drew backward for a breath, Antionus wasted no time suckling on the side of his neck. The prince threw his head back and moaned, a sound that went right to Antionus’ cock as he continued leaving marks in his neck that claimed his as his for all those who dared to question.
His hands crept down Telemachus’ back, down, over the perfect swell of his buttocks as he groped and squeezed, making Telemachus gasp and whine. When Antionus felt sufficiently happy with his marking, he drew back on his haunches, keeping his grip firmly on his waist, as the prince flopped back on the pillows with a groan.
Oh, but what a sight it was. Telemachus, all soft and pliable, hair spread out on his pillow, dressed in nothing but his adornments, looking up at Antionus with an expression of satiated wonder. Antionus thought to himself that he’d fight with a thousand gods if he could see this sight in front of him everyday.
And as his eyes traveled lower, they snagged on the prince’s little prick, now standing up straight to attention. Telemachus followed his gaze and pink rushed to his cheeks as he tried to close his hands over his cock like he had before, abashed. Antionus tutted and swatted his hands away. “No, my prince. This cock belongs to me now, for the rest of the night.”
He maintained eye contact with the boy as he knelt down and licked a stripe, right from the root to the top of his glans. Telemachus back arched straight off the bed as he keened, a glorious sound to Antionus’ ears. “You beauty… I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cock as pretty as this one in all of my years.” Saying so he dived down again, and closed his lips over the entirety of Telemachus’ cock. The prince made a sobbing sound as his fingers caught in Antionus’ hair. When he felt a slight, insistent tug, he looked up to meet Telemachus’ narrowed eyes, half drunk with pleasure as they were. “Antionus’, just how many cocks have you seen in all your years?”
The absurdity of the question was such that Antionus forgot to suck for almost half a minute as he stared at the prince’s pouty face. Then he laughed, a deep belly laugh, that started all the way in his chest and came out vibrating through his mouth. Telemachus forgot his question as he whined again when the vibrations reached him. Antionus decided the best thing right now would be to make him forget the question, the best way to make him forget was to make him cum the way he had never before in his life.
He renewed his suckling with vigour, often taking the entire cock in his mouth. It wasn’t even that hard to do, seeing Telemachus’ cock seemed perfectly crafted for his mouth, small and pretty and pink that it was. When the prince’s muscles grew taut and his whines increased in volume, Antionus drew back and wiped the spit from his mouth. Telemachus huffed as he looked up from his pillow, “Why did you stop?! Antionus, I’m so close-“”
”I know, young wolf.” Antionus smiled as he reached for the oil kept on his bedside. “I just need you to scream when you do cum.” He coated a generous amount on his index and middle fingers and then looked at Telemachus. “Turn over.”
The prince seemed confused. “But why?”
Antionus almost fell off the bed as the knowledge hit him…. The prince didn’t know what to do next? He groaned as he raised his eyes skyward. He didn’t know what cruel jest the gods were playing on him, but when he died and reached the Underworld, he’d thank each of them personally.
He didn’t reply anything to Telemachus, just loomed over him and his weeping cock. He had initially decided to coat him with oil and then do him, but seemed the prince would need a gentler demonstration tonight. And, Antionus decided on a whim, he’d look into the young wolf’s eyes the entire time he did it.
He gestured for Telemachus to lean back, and ignored his yelp as his pulled up the back of his legs and probed, with his oil-slicked fingers, for his entrance.
”Antionus! What- what are you doing?”, Telemachus yelled, but made no move to pull away as he looked up with an expression full of trust. Oh, my prince, I will not let you down tonight.
Telemachus forgot all his questions as Antionus’ fingers breached him, slightly. He grabbed onto his shoulders for support and panted,” It’s too big, Antionus! I don’t think I can-“
”Yes you will, of course you will”, Antionus shushed him as he kissed him again, mainly to take Telemachus’ mind off of the discomfort and also because he greatly enjoyed kissing him.
It did the work, because the prince was soon so engrossed in moaning into this kiss, he barely noticed it when Antionus’ first finger went fully in, right up to the knuckle. He only realised it when the suitor started wriggling his finger around. “Antionus-Antionus? Aahhh, aahhh, aaaahhhh!”, he threw his head back and cried out as Antionus reached his secret spot, and immediately started pumping into him. He soon added a second finger, when it seemed Telemachus wouldn’t resist. And Telemachus, it seemed had no problems not resisting. He clutched Antionus so tightly, their midsections were pressed completely together. As he pumped his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm, the prince started rutting against him, seemingly close to his climax.
Antionus, with his fingers still inside, drew him away just enough so he could reach between them with his free hand and free his own cock. It slapped up on his stomach, the tip already an angry red and weeping. Telelmachus looked at it with wide eyes and touched the tip very briefly, with his index finger. Antionus had to grit his teeth when he shooed his hand away. “Not now, Telemachus. You’ll have plenty of time to play with it later.” Saying so, he flipped the prince on his stomach, despite his protests and started pumping his fingers into his arsehole with renewed rhythm. Telemachus shouted soon after, every muscle in his body taut as he came on the sheets, without his prick being touched.
He flopped down on the bed, completely weary, as shudders wracked his body. Antionus, however, was not done with him, not at all. He picked his head up from the pillows by his hair, which Telemachus whined at, loudly. Interesting.
Antionus then jammed the fingers that were just in his arsehole into Antionus’ mouth, and the lad was so cum-drunk he didn’t even protest, just wrapped his lips around the digits and started sucking like a good boy.
Antionus told him so. “Good boy, you’re such a good boy for this aren’t you?” as his fingers went deeper in the prince’s mouth and saliva started overflowing from the corners.
After sometime had passed, and Telemachus’ shudders had started winding down, Antionus gently extracted his fingers and laid down beside him, cuddling him like a big spoon. His spit-soaked hands gently probed and found Telemachus’ soft cock, already starting to harden under the interest. “Not now, my wolf”, he chided sweetly. “Right now, you have to take care of me”, and thrusted his still hard cock against Telemachus thighs.
The prince just looked back and smiled sleepily. Hmm. It seemed Antionus would have to save the fucking for another day. The events of today morning, and Telemachus first time had clearly tired him off. That was no problem. Antionus would still use him.
He opened the princes legs gently, and slipped his hard cock between his thighs and slowly started rutting. Within moments, his composure wore off and he grabbed Telemachus’ chest, pinching his nipples cruelly as his rutting grew hard and fast, the tip of his cock slapping his prince’s balls, until finally, he too, came with a low groan.
As he came down from his high, he noticed Telemachus’ breathing had evened out. He had fallen asleep. With infinite care, Antionus, took a cloth and wiped off both of them. He played with Telemachus’ prick a little longer- the damn thing was too sweet for him not to touch it for too long- making the prince grind back his arse in Antionus’ groin even in his sleep.
His sweet wolf prince would kill him one day.
With a smile, he hugged Telemachus closer and drifted off to sleep, making new plans even as his eyes closed shut. Odysseus and Penelope were going to have a new problem on their hands once they reunited.