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“Fucking hell, I’m tired,” Antinous groaned as he slumped over the small couch, throwing his legs over Telemachus as he turned off the T.V. Telemachus let out his own yawn, stretching his arms and clamping his eyes shut. He sounded like a mewling kitten. “Damn, even your yawns are cute.”
“Oh, hush,” Telemachus said, using his hands to hide the red on his cheeks.
“Don’t do that,” Antinous said, taking his hand and holding it. He intertwined his fingers with Telemachus’s, making the man’s face light up brighter. “You look cute tonight.”
Telemachus pouted, jutting his bottom lip out, and Antinous rolled his eyes as he knew what was coming.
“You didn’t think I looked cute last night?”
“Oh, for the love of the gods,” Antinous squeezed Telemachus’s hand. “You know that’s not what I meant, little wolf. You look cute every night. It’s just..” he tried to come up with something, something that would save him from another play-fight. It’s not that he didn’t like play fighting with Telemachus– he was just so tired that he could barely think. “Every night, you look just a little bit cuter.”
Telemachus’s pout softened, replaced by a small, hesitant smile. "Really?"
“Really,” Antinous confirmed, leaning over to press a soft kiss on Telemachus’s lips.
He paused, taking the other man into his arms, leaning his head onto his shoulder. He looked out the window, allowing himself to savor the scene. Rain poured onto the window next to them, and his heater hummed, fighting off the winter cold. The sky was filled with dark, dreary clouds, hiding any light that could seep through the night sky.
With how hard it was raining, Antinous could barely see the other apartment buildings, or the trees that covered the grounds of the apartment’s shitty attempt at a courtyard.
“You sure you wanna drive home in this rain, wolfie? You seem really tired.”
Telemachus shifted slightly, and his warmth spread through Antinous’s body, heating him up like a warm hearth. “I should. I don’t want to impose…” he murmured, but his voice lacked conviction. “But.. you’re right. I’m exhausted. And the rain is awful.”
Antinous felt a surge of relief. He wasn't eager to see Telemachus brave the storm, especially in his current state. "Stay," he said. The word came out so gentle, so much more gentle than Antinous ever thought he had in him.
Damn, I’m so fucking soft for him.
“Stay tonight, wolfie,” he repeated.
“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”
“Gods, no,” Antinous scoffed. He tightened his hold on Telemachus, pulling him closer. “You’re sleeping in the bed with me. Besides," he added, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "it's too damn cold for us to sleep alone. You'd freeze your cute little nose off."
Telemachus blushed again, a soft pink dusting his cheeks. "Fine," he mumbled, a hint of a smile in his voice. "But only because you insist."
“Hm,” Antinous responded. He laid his head on his shoulder once more, soaking up the warmth of the moment, before he got up, cracking his neck. “You want to borrow some clothes before we go to bed?”
Telemachus shook his head, and Antinous was kind of disappointed. He wanted to see Telemachus engulfed in one of his hoodies or shirts, and with a pair of his shorts so long they would reach his shins. But, another time, he supposed.
“I keep a spare set of robes in my car.”
“What for?” Antinous couldn’t help but ask.
Telemachus’s eyes widened, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“I guess, secretly, I was hoping this would happen someday. Well, I figured it would happen eventually, so I might as well be prepared, you know?”
Antinous's heart did a strange little flip. "Fuck, you're so adorable," he muttered, the words escaping his lips before he could stop them. He immediately wanted to take them back, worried he'd come on too strong. They had only been dating for a few weeks, after all. But the way Telemachus's eyes lit up made it impossible to regret.
“Thank you,” Telemachus squeaked. He stood up, off the couch, and Antinous’s body lurched forward to follow him. “I’m just going to go get my clothes.”
"Just... be quick," Antinous managed. He watched Telemachus disappear into the hallway, a small smile playing on his lips. He was surprised by how easily the words had tumbled out, how effortlessly soft he'd become. And, how eerily cold he felt the moment Telemachus left. It was.. so weird, being so attached to someone like that.
He busied himself with cleaning up the living room. Re-setting up the smushed throw pillows, picking up empty snack bowls that still had a few crumbs dusting them. He remembered how meticulously he planned this night, how much he wanted to make it perfect, for Telemachus.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been in the apartment by any means, but.. he wanted every moment to feel special, and with Telemachus living in that huge mansion, it was hard to make it live up to his own expectations.
A few minutes later, Telemachus returned, a soft, light blue, frilly robe in his hands.
A chortle escaped Antinous’s throat. “That’s what you’re wearing?”
Telemachus flushed a deeper shade of crimson, clutching the robe closer to his chest. "What? It's comfortable," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "And warm." Defensiveness flickered in his eyes.
Oh, crap.
“I wasn’t judging you, little wolf,” he quickly said, maybe too eagerly. “It’s just funny, I think. I’ve never seen anyone wear anything so.. expensive-looking for sleep.”
Telemachus relaxed slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Oh," he said, his voice still a little shaky. "Right. Well, it's silk. And it's... hand-embroidered." He held out the robe slightly, as if to display its merits. "My mother gave it to me."
“It looks like something a prince would wear.”
“Well, I’m no prince,” Telemachus said, chuckling a bit. “I like it, though. Can I.. uh…” He tilted his head towards the bathroom.
Antinous gave a small smile. “Yeah, whatever you want, wolfie.”
Telemachus disappeared into the bathroom, and Antinous, meanwhile, headed to his own bedroom. Unlike Telemachus, he wasn’t one for elaborate sleepwear, not that he was anywhere near rich enough for that. He took out a pair of warm, gray sweatpants from his drawer, deciding against a top tonight. More often than not, he slept shirtless.
He tossed the sweatpants onto the bed and began to strip, the chill of the apartment nipping at his skin.
There was something thrumming in his body, something he hadn’t felt in years. The fast beating of his heart, the butterflies in his stomach, the prickly feeling of his flesh. Nervousness, he knew. Anxiety. Which was stupid. It was just Telemachus. Just his boyfriend. But… it felt so different.
He finished changing, the soft cotton of his sweatpants a familiar comfort against his skin. He was about to turn off the light when the bathroom door opened.
Telemachus emerged, and Antinous's breath caught in his throat. The light from the hallway illuminated the soft, flowing lines of the silk robe. The light blue fabric clung to Telemachus's frame, highlighting the subtle curves and gentle slopes of his body. The hand-embroidered details, delicate flowers and vines in shades of silver and gold, shimmered in the dim light, creating an ethereal glow around him.
Antinous had seen Telemachus in all sorts of outfits, from casual jeans and t-shirts to impeccably tailored suits. He knew Telemachus was beautiful. He had been a model, after all. But this… this was something else entirely. The soft, elegant fabric transformed him, turning him into something out of a dream.
The robe fell just to his knees, revealing the smooth, pale skin of his legs. The collar dipped slightly, hinting at the delicate line of his collarbone. His hair framed his face in soft waves, making his eyes, teal like the sea, seem even larger and more luminous.
Antinous's jaw went slack, and he suddenly felt underdressed to go to sleep.
He swallowed hard, his voice caught in his throat. "Gods," he breathed.. "You look..." He trailed off, unable to find the right words. "You look beautiful."
He fidgeted with the silk sash of his robe, his eyes darting away. "It's just a robe," he mumbled, but a small, pleased smile played on his lips.
“But you look beautiful in it,” Antinous said.
"I think somewhere, in some other universe, you might have actually been a prince," Antinous murmured, his gaze still fixed on Telemachus. The words were soft, almost a whisper, as if he were afraid to break the spell.
Telemachus's smile widened. "And you?" he asked, stepping closer. "What would you be in this other universe?"
Antinous's heart pounded in his chest. He wasn't used to such direct compliments, such open affection. He wasn't used to feeling so… delicate. "I'd be your guard," he said, voice firm. "Your protector. I'd stand between you and any danger, any threat. Nothing would be able to even touch you."
Telemachus’s eyes softened, and the look in his eyes made Antinous’s stomach flutter further. “That’s… very sweet,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He closed the remaining distance between them, his hand reaching out to gently cup Antinous’s cheek.
Antinous leaned into the touch, his own hand rising to cover Telemachus’s. He could feel the soft silk of the robe against his skin, the warmth radiating from Telemachus’s body.
“Can I kiss you?” Telemachus asked, his voice husky.
Antinous’s breath hitched. “Gods, yes,” he breathed, his eyes searching Telemachus’s.
Telemachus’s lips met Antinous’s, and his hands found purchase on Antinous’s back, his hands cold against the skin above his scapula. It wasn’t like their other kisses, passionate and heated. The pressure was so delicate, so reverent, Antinous was sure his lips were softer than the silk of his robes.
Someone sighed contentedly, and Antinous wasn’t sure who. It didn’t matter, anyway.
Slowly, Telemachus got more confident, more demanding, and one of his hands came up to push Antinous onto the bed. His back met the mattress, and his hands climbed up Telemachus’s back, hesitant to bury them in his hair. He didn’t want to ruin him. Ruin his beauty.
He must have tried. Tried, in that other universe, to ruin him. He was sure that Antinous had failed. After all, who could find it in themselves to ruin something so beautiful?
Antinous’s hands finally found their way into Telemachus’s hair, the soft strands slipping through his fingers. He tugged gently, urging Telemachus closer, deepening the kiss. Telemachus groaned softly, his body pressing against Antinous’s, the silk of his robe a smooth, cool barrier between their heated skin.
Antinous scoot further up the mattress, Telemachus having to crawl on top of him to meet his lips once more. His legs and arms trapped Antinous, but he hardly wanted to move, all too focused on the man on top of him.
Telemachus’s hips moved, then, gently grinding against Antinous’s. The friction, even through the layers of their clothing, sent a jolt of heat through Antinous's body. He gasped, his hands tightening in Telemachus's hair, pulling him closer.
When they pulled away, they were both breathing deeply, staring into each other’s eyes with an intimacy Antinous never felt before, not even with previous partners.
“I know we just dressed up,” Telemachus began, nervously biting his lip before he continued. “But maybe we could put off sleep for just a bit longer?”
Antinous's let in a sharp breath. He wasn't sure if it was the lingering heat of the kiss, the soft glow of Telemachus's skin in the dim light, or the sheer vulnerability in his eyes. He'd shared intimacy with Telemachus before, but tonight felt different, charged with a tenderness that made his heart ache.
The rain pattered against his window. The fluorescent light above him flickered. The heater buzzed, trying and failing to stave off the cold.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Yeah, we can.”