Patroclus disconnects from their kiss slowly, letting Achilles chase him for a few moments before pulling his head away. He rubs his thumb over Achilles’ cheekbone and smiles warmly at him.
“Could I… Do you mind if I take the lead for tonight?” He asks shyly, eyes darting away from where Achilles tries to hold his gaze. “If you don’t want—”
“I don’t mind.” Achilles interrupts. His hand slides from where it was resting on Patroclus’ neck down to his chest. “I don’t mind at all.”
Patroclus grabs Achilles’ thighs and switches their positions, flipping Achilles onto his back and climbing over him to straddle his waist. Achilles eyes squint into a grin and he reaches up to tug Patroclus down into another kiss. Patroclus allows himself to be pulled down, even though he’s supposed to be the one in charge, and smiles when Achilles moans softly.
Patroclus takes Achilles’ hand— the one that’s tangled in the back of his hair— and grabs it, gently pulling it down to press into the ground above Achilles’ head.
“Hands to yourself.” Patroclus breathes out against Achilles’ lips.
“Mmm, yes, sir.” Achilles purrs, and raises his free hand to meet his other one. Patroclus takes both wrists into his hand and squeezes gently, then lets go. He slides one of his hands down to touch Achilles’ neck, thumb brushing over his Adam’s Apple, then moves further down to the side of his chest.
He works his way down Achilles’ body, kissing and sucking at his jaw, then his neck, leaving dark red marks that were sure to get more than a few questions. Neither one of the particularly cared, so Patroclus kept at it until Achilles was wearing a short necklace of red. He works his way back up to give Achilles a brief kiss on the lips, then moves down and kisses one of Achilles’ nipples.
Achilles whimpers and his back arches up slightly, just enough for Patroclus to feel. Patroclus smiles and sucks the perky bud into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it. Achilles lets out a breathy moan and arches up further into it. Patroclus uses his hand to pinch the other one, and Achilles lets out a yelp that dissolves into a moan.
“Pat…” Patroclus hums back, refusing to pull his mouth away, and sucks harder. “Fuck, you’re killing me here.” He groans. Patroclus releases his nipple and quickly switches to the other. He leaves the first one alone, deciding it’s tolerated enough torture. He grazes the bud with his teeth and Achilles spasms beneath him. “Oh, fuck! If you do that again I…” He does it again, and grins as Achilles spurts seed out onto his own stomach and Patroclus’ back.
“I’m not done with you yet.” Patroclus says, voice deep with lust, and Achilles melts. Patroclus kisses his way down Achilles’ body. Hist ribs, his stomach, his hips. He grabs Achilles’ calf and lifts his leg up, leaning in to kiss the muscle, then moving up his thighs. He stops a few times to nip and suck at him, leaving marks identical to those on his neck, working all the way up to his ass. He does the same to the other leg, and when he’s gotten to where his thigh connects to his torso, he sees that Achilles is hard again. He slides his hand up Achilles’ leg, from his calf to his thigh, then up to the reddish-blond curls that sit just above his cock. He spreads his fingers out, pads gliding through the hair and pressing gently through the hair. Achilles whimpers and wriggles, attempting to angle his member up into Patroclus’ hand.
“Patience.” Patroclus sings, and continues to rub at Achilles’ skin. “You’re so beautiful.” He leans down and kisses Achilles’ chest. “Prettier than any god.”
“Let them strike me down. I speak the truth.” He rests their foreheads together, then presses his lips to Achilles’. Achilles part his lips and allows Patroclus to delve deeper, savouring his taste and the feel of their tongues rubbing together. As they kiss, Patroclus takes Achilles in his hand, grinning as the other man gasps and twitches. Patroclus nips at his lip and rubs his thumb over the head of his weeping cock, spreading the precum. He continues to rub at him, only moving his hand slightly, knowing where Achilles is most sensitive. They pull apart for air, but only briefly, then Achilles is leaning up and kissing him again. Patroclus indulges him for only a moment, then sits back.
Achilles pouts at him. “Why can’t we kiss?”
“I have other things to do with my mouth.” Achilles’ eyes darken and he bites his lip. Patroclus scoots down until his shoulders are between Achilles’ spread thighs. He strokes Achilles cock a few more times, before opening his mouth and taking it in. He goes all the way down, letting the head press against the back of his throat, and looks up at Achilles.
Achilles has his head tossed back, hands still obediently held above his head, Adams Apple bobbing as he swallows roughly. Patroclus moves a hand up to stroke his side comfortingly as he begins to bob his head. He sucks gently at first, stopping occasionally to give more attention to Achilles’ more sensitive spots. He increases the intensity as Achilles’ moans grow louder and uses one of his hands to cup his balls. Achilles’ legs tremble with the effort of not moving, and Patroclus appreciates it. He fondles him gently as he continues to suck him off, then pushes his head all the way down.
Achilles cums with a strangled groan, hips jerking up and pressing himself deeper. He spills down Patroclus’ throat, and Patroclus dutifully swallows it all. When Achilles’ hips fall back to the ground, Patroclus pulls his head off and releases him with a wet pop. He crawls back up so he can hold Achilles’ face in front of his own and kisses him roughly. Achilles’ moans out something unintelligible and Patroclus disconnects their lips.
“That was good. You’re so good.” He murmurs, moving a hand from Achilles’ cheek to stroke his hair. “Can you do one more for me?”
“Anything for you, philtatos.” Achilles hums. He looks up at Patroclus through heavily lidded eyes and his lips curve up into a smile. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Patroclus kisses him again. “Do you want to be facing me?”
“Whatever you want.” Achilles answers. Patroclus stops to think about it. Achilles is gorgeous from the front, and they can kiss better that way, but they almost always faced each other. He wondered how good Achilles undoubtedly looked from the other side.
“Flip over for me.” Achilles hums and rolls onto his stomach, then raises himself up onto his elbows and knees.
“Perfect.” Patroclus says and kisses his ass. He reaches over and grabs the bottle of oil they keep especially for this occasion. He pours some out onto his fingers, then sets the bottle back down. He rubs at Achilles’ hole, covering it in the oil, before pushing a finger in. Achilles moans and falls onto his chest, tucking his face away in his elbow. Patroclus lets it rest a moment, pulls it almost all the way out, then presses it back in. He continues to pump it in and out before he finally slips another finger in. Achilles presses back against his hand.
“Really?” Patroclus asks. Achilles hums an affirmative, and Patroclus pushes the third finger in. Achilles lets out a shaky breath that turns to a moan. “So good for me.” He hums and Achilles whimpers. He undulates his fingers until Achilles is begging for him, then pulls his fingers out. He rubs the excess oil onto his own aching cock, then lines it up with Achilles.
He pushes in slowly, despite Achilles’ begging, groaning as he sinks into the tight heat. He stops when he bottoms out, waiting for Achilles to adjust, then, once he gives the go-ahead, starts moving his hips. He grinds deeper, then pulls out and slams back in. Achilles gasps and his hands twist the blanket beneath. Patroclus begins to fall into a steady rhythm, ruining it every few moments to simply grind deeper. Achilles writhes beneath him, bouncing back against him with each thrust.
“I’m close, Pat.” Patroclus rubs Achilles’ back, stretching his fingers over the muscled expanse of flesh, then lightly digs his nails in. He lasts a few more thrusts before bottoming out and filling Achilles with his spend. Achilles clenches around him and cries out as he cums onto the blanket and his stomach.
They stay still for a few moments, catching their breath, then Patroclus collapses down onto the blanket, rolling onto his side and pulling Achilles with him so their bodies are pressed together.
“Hm?” Patroclus hums as sleep threatens to overcome him.
“It’s your turn next time.”