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A patch of blue scaling underneath his eyes was the first warning. Achilles stared at his reflection, resignation settling in his stomach as he watched the light refract indigo into cyan.
Achilles flagged down Nyx before his shift. She didn’t question his request for time off, and as always he found himself thanking the fates that his first cycle had come before he’d been introduced to his ward. Now, he thought of her as ‘ Zagreus’ mother’ before the Night itself, and the very concept of having to break down the demands of his heritage to that figure made him want to fade away. It still twisted his innards to say, knowing that she understood precisely how he’ll be spending his time, but she only acknowledged it with a “It shall be done,” and let him take his post with his dignity mostly intact.
He’d grown used to the patterns of his cycle. Once the scales began to form, he’d have the duration of one shift and another half before he was out of commission. That was the pattern he’d been relying on for almost the entirety of his time in the House of Hades — which made it strange when he found himself shifting in place, feeling far too warm beneath his robes.
Throughout the years of service, his seasons became slow and infrequent, the lack of a suitable partner inhibiting his drive. Then Zagreus grew into a man, filled out and stood tall and bright and above all else kind. He wrestled Achilles to the ground, then offered him of nectar with pink dusting his cheeks, and Achilles’ divine heritage whispered mate.
Strong and sufficient, one who could protect and be protected in turn. He spent his first season with Zagreus on his mind fucking into his pillow and then back onto his fingers, uncertain which he wanted from the lad but burning with a shame that even the lust of breeding couldn’t overwhelm. The prince had been placed in his charge, and here he was spilling into his fist with his eyes rolled half up to the fantasy of Zagreus’ belly swollen with his seed.
Only now, as the itching of spreading scales crawled across his hands, did Achilles realize it stood to reason that once Patroclus was in his arms again, once they’d laid together again and his body knew he could give it exactly what it demanded, the urge would return in full force.
He tried to hold out, but when the scratching moved to the inside of his thighs, then up, and then began to burn, Achilles abandoned his post. He’d rather receive a scolding for ineptitude than for indecent exposure.
Hidden in his chambers, Achilles couldn’t even bring himself to shuck his clothing aside. He had just enough mind to mount his spear before falling on the bed and shoving a pillow between his legs.
Another nearly went between his teeth, before he remembered how they sharpen with this transformation. Instead he buried his face in the cushion, muffling his moans as he pushed his cock against precious silk.
He thought of Zagreus beneath him, red-faced and drooling. He thought of Patroclus, holding him close, low voice promising I’ve got you as Achilles fucked desperately into him.
Patroclus. Achilles’ next sound was a needy sob. He could go to Patroclus, as he had in life. But he’d gone so long working through this alone. Neither of them enjoyed his season — he was insatiable, and Patroclus simply couldn’t keep up. No matter how they did it, when Patroclus fucked him on his cock and fingers, when Achilles turned him over to press into his ass or use his mouth, his beloved only had so much energy, and Achilles would inevitably be left sobbing with frustration while Patroclus wallowed in guilt.
No. Best not to trouble him. When his mind was briefly clear, he could send word via Zagreus to inform Patroclus he wouldn’t be visiting for a few days. The lad had always been respectful of his explanation of private time for his extended absences, never prying despite the curiosity Achilles could see on his face.
With a half-despairing breath, Achilles rolled himself over, hiking his skirt up to his belly and wrapping his fingers around his length. His nereid heritage was shining through now: his arms were scaled blue from the elbows down, his legs completely covered. Delicate fins were folded against his skin, at his back, along his calves. And between his legs…
His fingers were closed around a thick and squirming tendril. It was a deeper blue than his scales, dripping thick fluid. A line of short, stud-like ridges trailed up either side of his length. Every catch of his fingers over them made sparks burst up his spine, a too-loud moan rolling from his throat before he crushed the pillow back against his face. It was thick at the base, far longer than any human’s cock, and tapered into a soft diamond tip.
He wished he could keep his human shape for this — it was far easier to bring himself off like that. With this tendril, he had to stroke and squeeze, desperation moving both of his hands to work over his length as he tried to trick his own body into believing he was sheathed in a clenching hole.
“Fuck.” Frustration laced his voice, high at the edges. He slammed his head back against the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and teeth gritted as he fucked up into his own hands. His belly was so tight it ached, his skin was burning. He wanted to claw it all off but first he needed to come, he needed to come, he needed it —
“Pat,” he hissed, imagining his lover above him, bouncing back against every thrust. He’d clench deliciously around him, that calm veneer shattered as Achilles writhed inside him, curling over and over the sweet spot inside of him until Patroclus was dribbling his climax onto his belly.
A gasp sucked into his lungs. Achilles arched, chasing his edge with frantic thrusts, squeezing himself in pulses until he forced himself to come. It wasn’t even a shade of satisfaction, just squirting his seed out onto his thighs and sheets and dripping all over his fingers, almost painful without the heat and slick of another body. Every aching pulse drew a grunt from his chest, each one higher as it turned to a cramp in his belly. Then he went limp, releasing himself and letting his hands drag over the blankets. He’d wash them himself later.
Achilles could only lay there for a moment before discomfort started to make him squirm. His belly was cramping in earnest, now, as though to punish him. The heat hadn’t left him, and with every moment it stoked hotter.
He shuddered, forcing himself up to his feet. He would run a bath. It always felt just a little better when he was submerged in cool water.
As the tub filled, Achilles cleaned himself, rinsing his hands and running a cloth over his soiled thighs and the inside of his skirt. His cock had withdrawn back into its sheath, but the pressure sat heavy below his stomach.
That had only been the precursor to his cycle. The real thing was searing under his skin, now, the haze threatening to come and drown him. Once it struck, he’d be spending the next several days writhing without relief. It was always a blessing that Zagreus never knocked when he was in that state, or Achilles would either beg him to come in or just tear the door open and pounce.
With the tub full, Achilles made to get in. He lifted his head, catching sight of himself in the mirror as he had when he first woke for the day. His eyes were feverish, his skin flushed. A panting mouth was dripping with serrated teeth. Exhaling, he tore his gaze away, reaching to loosen his clothes —
– and felt a tug at the core of his soul. Dread burst in his gut as he heard the echo of a gasp, “Achilles, help!”
Another tug, latching onto his being, Patroclus taking hold of him and feeding the bond. “Shall we?” Pat hummed, and Achilles was pulled from his space.
He appeared battle-ready, with his spear in hand. The world spun out beneath him, bright colors tossed from earth to sky as he burned and burned, the heat of the phlegethon like tinder to the fire in his blood.
Then his senses focused. Amid the stench of burning flesh and dried bone was something sweeter, and something that had a snarl tearing from his throat. He knew the scent of his godling’s blood.
The sight of Patroclus piercing through the dry skull of the hydra had vicious satisfaction coiling inside of him. Good mate, his instincts purred, all while Achilles’ knees shook. He set his gaze on the hydra, lips peeled back around his teeth as he lunged for it with a violence he hadn’t felt since his death. Bone splintered around his spear as he drove it into the ground, then shattered into dust,
He heard Zagreus give a soft cheer, heard Patroclus’ admiring hum. His spear slipped from his grasp and Achilles fell to his knees.
Distantly, he was aware of Zagreus calling out to him, more fear in his prince’s voice than he ever cared to hear. Achilles could only groan a response. The world was spinning. He was aching, and worse, he felt his length sliding free of its sheath. Every inch that dragged from his body had his face burning hotter with shame, and he curled tight over his knees to hide it from view.
“Don’t touch.” Patroclus’ voice, sharp and stern.
He heard Zagreus, who’d come so close without Achilles noticing, “What’s wrong with him?”
A pounding settled at his temples. Two mates, right here, his to take. The promise of relief if he just pried their legs open and fitted himself between. His two mates, both full of him — a moan spilled from his mouth before he could swallow it down. Humiliated tears pricked at his eyes.
Patroclus breathed a curse. “You know he’s half nereid, stranger?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And did you know nereids have a breeding cycle?”
“I — what?”
“Pat,” Achilles ground out, voice like gravel. “Don’t —”
“Achilles, my love, there isn’t any dignity to spare here. Let me give him the lay of it so he can decide what to do from here.” Patroclus’ voice was steady, and Achilles could only take the lifeline and give him control. He had to trust Patroclus to handle this when he himself could not.
To Zagreus, Patroclus said, “As he’s explained it to me, he tends more towards a rut during his cycle, but he’ll accept receiving as well. For now, though, I need to take care of this before I get him home. Help me get him to the next chamber, stranger, and then you decide if you want to leave or stay.”
Achilles whimpered. He was shaking with the effort to stay still. The very concept of Zagreus leaving made him want to cling to his prince, keep him there — once he was bred nice and full he wouldn’t be able to leave, wouldn’t want to leave —
“Now, stranger.”
“Ah — y-yes, sir.”
He listened to footsteps retreating. Achilles very nearly broke and dashed after him before arms caught him around the middle, dragging him against a large, firm body. Patroclus’ scent filled his breath and he turned and scrabbled for him, finding his face to mash their mouths together in a starving facsimile of a kiss.
Patroclus matched him step for step, maneuvering his legs so he was straddling his lap. The barrier of clothes between them was an agony, Achilles growling as he humped against Patroclus, trying to get some relief.
“Why didn’t you come to me?” Patroclus murmured, voice mournful beneath its strain.
It was enough to drag some lucidity into Achilles, but he’d only gasped a single “I —” before Zagreus interrupted.
“The, uh, raft is here, sir. If you want to take him to a safer chamber.”
“My thanks.” Patroclus hoisted Achilles up, who snarled a protest. Patroclus hushed him, and carried him to the raft.
Zagreus was watching, but Achilles had lost control. He spent the entire trip rutting against Patroclus’ belly, growling and pawing at him, hands shooed away any time he reached beneath his belt. “Patroclus,” he complained. Then, softer, a breath, “Please. Please, I can’t — “
“Shhhhh-shhhh,” Patroclus soothed. “Almost there. Then you can have me.”
Achilles leaned his head against his shoulder, clinging to the promise of relief. His gaze briefly caught Zagreus, standing to the front of their raft, his eyes wide and fixed on Achilles’ still-rutting hips. Shame made him hide his face in Patroclus’ collar. He couldn’t stop moving.
He didn’t see them arrive, only felt Patroclus lift him to carry him up steps and then, by the new echo of their steps, into a new chamber. Gears wound, water poured. Patroclus set him down on the floor and stayed kneeling, hands starting to undo his clothing from the top down: first, his circlet, and then the clasp of his cloak.
“Should I, um…” Zagreus’ voice was small.
“Do what you please, stranger,” Patroclus said, focused on his task. “I will say this bluntly: he wants you, and your presence will make this far easier on both of us. But if you do not want him, or us, be on your way and trust I’ll take care of him.”
Achilles couldn’t even bring himself to deny it. His eyes drifted open again, to find Zagreus’ face. He was rapt upon Achilles, uncertainty in his expression.
“... Sir?” He prompted. “Is that… true?”
Achilles shuddered. Patroclus was unfastening his breastplate, now, and the loss of its weight vented some of the unbearable heat. “I… yes.” It came out as a hiss. Words poured out unfiltered, “Let me have you. I’ll take care of you, lad, I’ll breed you so full—”
Zagreus’ breath hitched. Achilles purred at the sound, dizzy with it.
Patrcolus slid the gloves from Achilles’ hands, the bracer from his arm. “As I said, if you do not want this, take your leave.”
His hands found the waist of his skirt. Achilles was rigid beneath him, every taut muscle urging him on.
“... And, if I do want this?”
“Then come and hold his hips down for me. I don’t imagine shades can vomit, but I’d rather not be proven wrong like this.”
The heavy material dragged down his hips, his legs, and was finally, blessedly, gone. Zagreus gasped. It was the first he’d seen Achilles like this, body laced in scales and his cock heavy and writhing against his stomach.
He settled hesitantly over Achilles, who dug his fingers into the floor to keep from dragging Zagreus into his lap. A hand found his hip, and pushed down when they bucked. Patroclus gave a mumbled, “Good lad,” as he settled on his belly between Achilles’ legs and gripped his squirming length.
Achilles' head thudded back against the wall. His moan echoed in the chamber. Patroclus exhaled and held the base of his tendril as he guided his mouth to its tip, and finally pressed his tongue to the underside of it.
He pressed deeper, tendril chasing the wet-warm of Patroclus’ mouth. It writhed past his lips, trying to curl around Patroclus’ tongue and then down his throat. Zagreus kept him held tightly down but whenever Patroclus sank too deep the tendril would squirm further, rub the back of his tongue to feel his throat seize against it.
“Aah…” he pawed at Patroclus’ head, meaning to push him down further. Then his hands were pinned over his head, a wide-eyed Zagreus leaned into his space with his fingers clutching his wrists.
“Sorry, sir,” he breathed, a note of wonder in his voice. Achilles surged for him. Zagreus gave a startled noise, pulling back but not before Achilles had brushed their lips together. He growled and strained for more, craning his head towards Zagreus, who couldn’t retreat far while still pinning his hip.
“Come back,” he rasped. His voice was gravel, hitching as Patroclus sucked at him. The sounds were obscene, slick enough that it dripped down his chin, the slurp of his lips cut into a gag when Zagreus accidentally let him up enough to finally push into his throat. Achilles groaned, eyes rolling back as he filled Pat deeper, squirmed into that clutching passage, a hissed, “Yessss, yes, yes,” as he bucked against Patroclus’ face. It turned to a despairing whine when Pat hauled himself back, turning aside and coughing.
He could hear the two of them exchanging words, a rapid back-and-forth, but Achilles was gone, growling and jerking against Zagreus’ hold. “Come back,” he begged, the snarl on his face offset by pricking tears. “Please — Patroclus, please!”
Patroclus took him in, massaged his throat, and settled back down. Heat enveloped him once again and he fell back shuddering. Zagreus released his wrists, the pressure staying firm at his waist, and Achilles was grasping for him at once. He took him by the face and dragged him in for a kiss, a rattling purr on his tongue as he pushed it into Zagreus’ mouth. His prince gasped and clutched back, free hand twisting in his hair.
Achilles was tense to trembling, heels grinding into the floor. He wrapped one leg around Patroclus’ back, still trying to cant up into his mouth. It was the first time he’d been given what he needed since his death, and his body sang with it.
Patroclus only parted for breath before he was sucking him down again, deeper this time, willingly letting him into his throat. Even when the wriggling of his tendril forced him to choke, he didn’t let up, gagging against Achilles’ cock and dripping spit and slick back onto his skin, again and again while Zagreus kissed him back against the wall.
Achilles sobbed when he came, pouring down Patroclus’ throat. Each gush of fluid pulsed through his cock, body seizing with it, his mouth hanging open. It lasted a long stretch of seconds, Patroclus sloppily working him through it, forced to pull back and let it fill and drip from his mouth instead of swallowing it all down.
Achilles collapsed into a limp and purring heap while Patroclus leaned away to spit a mouthful of cum onto the ground. His hands and lips were tinged with it, translucent blue shining on his skin.
As Zagreus let up on his waist, Achilles turned into his side to pull him close, nuzzling and purring while his other hand reached for Patroclus. When he found the man by his hair, he turned again, draping over him to kiss his mouth and lick the taste of himself off his tongue. Patroclus was hard beneath his belly, and he could scent Zagreus’ matching arousal, and every fiber of his being thrummed with satisfaction.
Then clarity snapped back into his brain, and Achilles pushed himself up with a gasped, “Oh, gods.”
Patroclus’ eyes were red-rimmed, tears drying on his face from choking. His lips were swollen both from the abuse and the biting kiss that followed. And still, his face was remarkably calm, eyes dark despite the obvious strain his treatment had caused. Achilles chirped an apology, then flushed as he heard the sound.
Zagreus startled at it, and the reminder of him brought shame crashing down on his head. He looked to Zagreus’ kiss-bitten mouth and covered his face. “Lad, I —
“I’m so sorry, sir,” Zagreus cut across him. On his knees, he lowered himself down in a bow of penance. “I didn’t intend to call you out here when — I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t know,” Achilles assured him at once, wanting to put a comforting hand on his shoulder but stilling himself. He shouldn’t touch. “I can only beg forgiveness for my behavior, to both of you.”
“Sir, I —“
“That’s enough, I think.” Patroclus’ voice was ruined, hoarse and rasping . Achilles hated himself for how satisfaction coiled low in his belly. “Stranger, did you or did you not willingly stay to help him?”
“I… yes, of course.” Zagreus lifted his head enough for Achilles to see him avoid his gaze. “He’s my teacher, and my friend, I’d do anything for him. And, sir…” His eyes finally lifted, a weary smile on his face. “You already know how far my affection for you goes.”
“And Achilles, if you hadn’t wanted him there, you’d have tried to rip out his throat with your teeth,” Patroclus observed, drily. He stepped away to the fountain that ran in the room, blessed waters purifying his skin as he splashed it over his face. As he wiped the water from his eyes, Patroclus scoffed, “I recall more than one traumatized soldier fleeing our tent in life.”
He did as well, but only vaguely. It had at least been enough to guarantee they never spoke of what they saw: venerable Patroclus, pinned beneath Achilles. It was no secret that they laid together, but the acts they performed while Achilles was in his haze — those were to be kept between them.
And he certainly hadn’t so much as bared his teeth at Zagreus, only begged him closer. “I…” Achilles hung his head. “This is true, yes. I’d not have allowed the prince near if I didn’t want him there.”
Zagreus took a sharp breath. Patroclus still had the capacity to sound smug as he said, “Then I see no problem here. Stranger — Zagreus. The fact Achilles is speaking in full sentences means he’s not yet in the worst of his rut. I’ve tried to tend to his needs, but… well, you can see his divinity for yourself, now, can’t you? It’s written on his skin. Eventually I’ll tire, and he’ll be left without relief.”
Zagreus bit his lip. His gaze strayed between the two of them. Any doubt Achilles could try to convince himself of was chased away by the scent of Zagreus’ desire. “Then… it would be both an honor and a pleasure to help you through this, sirs.” His gaze lingered on Achilles, who only swallowed and nodded.
Zagreus and Patroclus. He was going to have them both. The nereid in him trilled with pleasure, that sticky heat drooling back down to his stomach. He grunted, then breathed, “Home, now. Quickly.”
His sigil couldn’t carry the prince. Patroclus gathered Achilles close, saying to Zagreus, “Make your way quickly, stranger.”
“As quick as I’m able,” he vowed, while Achilles pulled enough of his wits together to burn his sigils into the ground and pull them home.
Laying in the bath with Patroclus’ fingers in his hair, Achilles found himself weeping.
The water was pleasantly cool, a balm on his fevered skin. Patroclus braced a hand at his hairline to keep the water from running into his eyes as he rinsed his hair, and Achilles trembled under the weight of his adoration. He’d forgotten what it was, to be tended to, to have a lover seek to spare him such trivial discomforts.
“I love you,” he breathed, eyes slitting open. Patroclus’ fingers hesitated before gathering his hair back again.
“And I, you,” Patroclus murmured. “Why did you not come to me?”
“I should have.” Achilles turned to him, pressing his cheek to Patroclus’ thigh. He hadn’t tended to himself since they got back, his arousal fading as he lowered Achilles into the water to bathe him. “I’d gotten used to being alone. And it always made you so miserable, when I was too far gone.”
“But you denied me this,” Patroclus murmured. He thumbed the tears from Achilles’ cheeks. “I swore myself to you, Achilles. At your best and at your worst, I will be there with you. Our prince has made sure you can no longer go where I cannot follow, so do not squander his gift. Nor my love.”
Achilles nodded, though the motion turned to a nuzzle as warmth pulsed from his belly to the tips of his fingers and toes. The mating urge was often overpowering, but it was comfortable, now, almost pleasant. For now, he could take his time.
“Do you think…” He swallowed and wet his dry mouth. “Zagreus. Do you think having him there will… work?”
“Do I think the god of life will be able to keep up with your accursed stamina? Yes, Achilles, I do.” He snorted, but the sound was fond. Softer, he said, “I want it to. It’s true that I hate to see you suffering. If he can satiate you now, it is just another blessing from our god.”
Achilles shivered at that. Our god. He dreamed of laying Zagreus out for worship, pressing every gratitude into his skin until he knew the depth of their devotion. Did he understand what it meant, for them to take up spears for him? To strike at the Lord of the Underworld himself? They had both gone to their deaths in a war waged by a jealous king, and then pledged to fight again at the idle whims of their prince.
How could they not? When Zagreus had been nothing but kind to them as individuals, not just what they were to each other. When he’d brought them back together, when now he was on his way to lay beneath Achilles to satiate his needs.
That final thought had another wave of heat shuddering through him. Achilles leaned against Patroclus, groaning into his skin. “I want him,” he admitted. “...Want you, too.”
“And that would be my cue,” Patroclus chuckled. He stood to help Achilles up out of the water, bundling him in a towel. They wandered to their bedroom, where Patroclus laid back and Achilles settled over him, letting himself enjoy the warmth that stoked into his belly as he pushed his lover’s hands into the sheets and brought their mouths together.
It was considered degrading to mortal men, though the gods lacked such taboos, for Patroclus to be passive beneath him. As a grown and respected man, to take him in this way was to demean him. His first rut, his love had opened himself up on his fingers and laid back on their bedding, coaxing him closer until Achilles lacked the will to deny himself. He’d whimpered apologies into Patroclus’ hair as he slid himself inside, eyes rolling back and driving himself deeper to a mantra of guilt.
Now, that shame was only a distant echo. They’d both taken the other, even outside of Achilles’ cycles. And now they were dead, and any that would sneer at them for their pleasure could be silenced without fear of repercussion.
Achilles purred against Patroclus’ lips, rolling his hips forward. Patroclus’ tugged his hands free from his grip and brought them to his waist as they moved against one another, panting into each other's mouths. His tendril unsheathed, finding Patroclus’ cock and curling around it, dragging a moan from his lover to muffle against his lips.
His nails bit in. The pain sparked, making him tighten his own grip and turning his purr to a low rumble. The kiss turned biting, devouring Patroclus’ mouth until the man was huffing each breath through his nose, then dragging his lips down his jaw, to his neck. His hips rutted harder, Patroclus pulling him into each thrust, his breath coming in a gust when Achilles dragged his teeth down his neck. They were razor sharp, but his love only arched into it, head tipped back to bear his throat.
And as much as adoration swelled in his chest, there was a more pressing desire. “Need you,” he rumbled. “Need to be in you.”
“You’ll have to let me go, first,” Patroclus reminded him. Achilles was reluctant, biting a bruise to his skin to linger. He did pull back, letting Patroclus fetch the oil at their bedside, watching with hungry eyes as he started to push slick fingers into himself. He was quick about it — the taper of Achilles’ cock would stretch him as he pushed deeper. That was the real struggle in taking him, by Patroclus’ count. He fed far deeper into his body than with a blunted human cock, filled him in a way he wasn’t meant to be.
It was good, though, Patroclus promised him, with a heat in his eyes that said his words were true. I f only he could take it as many times as Achilles needed.
He withdrew his fingers, and Achilles was between his legs in an instant, pulling them around his waist. Patroclus laughed breathlessly, exhaled, “Slowly, beloved. Don’t break me just yet.”
“But you’re so pretty like that,” Achilles crooned back, his voice a husk. He had to guide himself inside, his breath juttering out of him when he pushed past that ring of muscle. He hadn’t had Patroclus like this since their life, and shut his eyes just to revel in the clutch of his body.
Patroclus braced a hand on his shoulder, gasping. “Oh,” he gulped. “Oh, I’d forgotten what that feels like.”
“Is it alright?” Achilles panted. He couldn’t stop himself from squirming deeper, eyelids fluttering as Patroclus clenched against him.
“Yes.” It was a punched-out sound. Patroclus hooked a leg around his back, pulling him closer. His tendril compressed against his hole, then uncoiled by pushing deeper until his rim was stretched open around him and Patroclus was heaving for breath, mouth hanging open and urging him, “More.”
Achilles grabbed his hips, nails digging into the skin, and shoved. He slid in to the base, Patroclus jerking beneath him. His leg kicked out, he clawed for Achilles’ arms and back. Achilles pressed him down, face buried in the crook of his neck as he drove into him in deep, punctuated thrusts.
“There we go,” Patroclus gasped. “I’ve got you, take what you need. All for you, Achilles.”
His head swam with it. “All mine,” he hissed back, making his point with sharp snaps of his hips. One hand smoothed over Patroclus’ belly, toes curling with pleasure when he could feel himself, the pressure beneath Pat’s skin where he was stuffed full. His skin was wet with the mess he’d drooled over himself, cock trapped between their bellies.
“Achilles,” he gasped, as his fingers just skimmed the head of his cock. “Ac — a- ah!” Patroclus’ voice broke.
Patroclus, normally so quiet, so composed, was crying out for him. His eyes were shut, expression nearly anguished as he keened. Achilles crooned comfort in his ear, kissing his throat as he shifted to hard, shallow thrusts. His poor mate would be full soon, he’d take care of him.
The kisses turned to nips, and then a sudden gnashing of teeth. He sank fangs deep into the junction of Patroclus’ neck. His lover shouted and spilled between them, coming in heavy spurts between their bodies. The scent of his release had Achilles only fucking harder into him, holding him flush as he sucked at the bloody punctures he’d made.
And amid the scents of their mating, a new one filtered to him.
Achilles’ eyes snapped open, snarling for half a second before he recognized Zagreus . He stood, jaw slack and gaze riveted upon them. Achilles immediately redoubled his effects, something that made Patroclus curse and paw at him, oversensitive. He was nearly folding him over, now, back flat and hips in the air as Achilles drove into him, hold stretched around the thick base of his tendril and stomach bent with how deep he reached inside. He’d show Zagreus how well he tended to his mates, show him exactly what Achilles would give him as soon as Patroclus was taken care of.
His orgasm hit him hard enough to make his eyes roll up. Patroclus groaned underneath him, already so full and now being flooded with more. He rolled into each pulse of pleasure, milking himself into Patroclus until the waves slowed, until there was nothing left to give.
When he was finished, Patroclus was limp in the sheets, shining with sweat. Achilles didn’t pull out just yet, kissing over his skin, praising trills in his throat. Good mate, good mate. Easing out of him made a slick, filthy sound, and Patroclus grunted as he let his legs fall and go lax.
He muffled Zagreus and his choked little noise. He still stared, now at where Patroclus was gaping open and leaking. “U-um, sir,” he squeaked. “Should I come over there?”
He purred his assent. Patroclus made some sound, lifting a hand towards Zagreus to bring him closer. Achilles blinked proudly up at Zagreus, hunkered down at Patroclus’ side, cheek pillowed on his chest. His dorsal fin had flared atop his back, and folded up and down in a tantalizing motion. His smaller mate looked to him, now, and Achilles gave a pleased wriggle. Come here, he cooed. He’d take care of him, too.
Zagreus swallowed. “Let me get him cleaned up,” he said, and Achilles slitted his eyes in approval. He hated to see him go, even for a moment, but they needed to take care of Patroclus. Achilles would keep him safe, Zagreus would tend to him. He purred and purred and purred, drunk with love.
His smaller mate returned with water for drinking and more for washing. Achilles sat up at once, taking a cloth from him to start running it over Patroclus’ skin, mopping up the sweat and cum that had started to dry. Zagreus was hesitant, but Patroclus leaned into his first touch, and then he was reverently drawing his cloth along his brow.
Patroclus stirred as Achilles started cleaning between his thighs, mumbling, “Now what’s this?”
“Just cleaning you up, sir,” Zagreus said. “If that’s alright.”
“More than alright, stranger,” he smiled, leaning back to accept their attention. “We haven’t done this before. He’s normally too far gone. Perhaps having a third is good for both of us.”
Zagreus returned his smile, always lighting up under praise. “I’m only glad I can be of some help. But, um… is it normal that he doesn’t speak?”
“Yes. He’ll come out of it from time to time, but when the rut has him he’s… mmm. Still intelligent, but driven by instinct, I think. He understands intention, like you wanting to clean me up. A bit less the nuance of our words, I think.”
Achilles nudged his thighs open. He was tempted to clean his hole by licking his seed out of him, but Zagreus still hadn’t gotten anything, and Achilles couldn’t neglect him any longer. He swiped the cloth over him instead, making Patroclus hiss with sensitivity.
Zagreus gave a laugh, echoed by Patroclus, who then said, “Stranger, you’d best get undressed. He’ll shred the clothes off your body if the mood strikes him before you’re ready. Which isn’t to say he won’t stop if you tell him to — thank the gods for that. I thought he’d fuck me unconscious the first time he had me.”
Achilles gave a disgruntled noise. He’d never hurt his mates, and pressed a kiss to Pat’s belly to prove it.
A hand settled in his hair, petting through it. “See?” Patroclus chuckled. “Even like this he doesn’t care for me badmouthing him.”
“Huh.” Zagreus’ smile was audible. “It’s… kind of cute? He was looking so proud of himself when I came over, like he was showing off what he’d done to you.”
“Or promising the same for you,” Patroclus drawled.
Achilles chirped, smiling at them both.
Then his eyes fixed on Zagreus, head cocking for a moment before hunger crawled into him again. The scent of Zagreus’ arousal was back, and Achilles’ purr lowered. He pushed himself up, prowling to Zagreus, whose eyes went wide. His fingers fumbled for his pauldrons, but Achilles had already pounced.
“Sir!” Zagreus yelped, as Achilled dragged him down and over him. He rolled them, putting Zagreus on his back, hands on his shoulders. Much as he wanted to mark him up, his mate had been wanting for longer than was acceptable. Achilles slid down his body, shoving his himation up and pressing his mouth to the bulge in his leggings. Zagreus gasped, hands flying to his hair, “Sir!”
“Well, your leggings are going to be forfeit,” Patroclus snorted. “Let me see if I can salvage the rest. Tell him to quit it if you need.”
“I — ah... ” Whatever Zagreus might have said broke into a soft moan. Achilles cupped his cock with one hand, licking him through his leggings. His fingers tightened in his curls, breath going short as Achilles kept working him over until he was hard and straining and Achilles lost patience for the barrier between them.
He hooked his nails delicately through the sheer cloth, then dragged. It tore, and he used both hands to rip it further open and expose his cock.
“What did I say,” Patroclus sighed. Zagreus only made a strangled sound.
“Wait, sir, his teeth are really sharp —”
“He’s careful, don’t worry,”
Achilles took him into his mouth. Zagreus moaned as he licked at the head of his cock, laving over the slit to taste the precum beading there. Then he sank further down, teeth kept carefully away from his skin.
The bed shifted. Achilles didn’t pay it any mind, but purred a welcome as Patroclus settled near him. Zagreus choked and bucked up into his mouth, Achilles taking him in smoothly.
“ — get these off before he gets distracted,” Patroclus was mumbling, followed by a clanking Achilles didn’t care to pay attention to. He just swallowed and purred, enjoying the weight of Zagreus in his throat.
“Gods, oh gods,” Zagreus gasped. He liked Achilles purring around his dick. “It’s good — it’s so good, sir —”
He whined when Achilles parted from him. Then he was flipped on his belly, and Achilles spread his cheeks to expose his tight hole.
“Oh fuck, wait —”
Achilles froze. He gave an impatient growl, but didn’t move.
“Alright there, stranger?” Patroclus set his grieves neatly on the floor, circling the bed to sit at its edge.
“I — “ Zagreus’ voice faltered. He craned his head over a shoulder, a gorgeous sight with his back flushed red. “Oh. I didn’t, um. I didn’t actually want you to stop. Just, startled me.”
Patroclus snorted on a laugh. “Careful, please. I don’t think it’ll be a problem but I don’t want him learning that wait means please, more.”
“Sorry, sir,” Zagreus chuckled. Then, “Achilles, you can… please keep going. I want whatever you’re giving me.”
Unimpressed, Achilles nipped his skin, making him squeak. Even better was the sound he made when he licked over his hole. Zagreus breathed a curse and shifted back into his touch, knees spreading further apart while Achilles worked his tongue into him.
“You look good like this,” Patroclus husked. “I can’t wait to see how he breeds you.”
“It looked nice,” Zagreus panted, a wisp of a laugh in his voice. “I’ve never seen you so…”
“Fucked out of my head?”
“Y-yeah…”
Achilles tore his leggings further apart, palming the bare skin of his ass. The mattress shifted, and he lifted one eyelid to watch Patroclus hoist Zagreus up, keeping him on his knees for Achilles but pressing their chests flush, cupping the back of his head and kissing him. Zagreus moaned for him, fingers grasping tight at his shoulders. He grew louder as Achilles chased him, holding his cheeks apart to push his tongue into him, driven by a sudden, animal need. He needed him open and ready and needed to fuck him full while his two mates clung to each other.
The attention left Zagreus panting, his voice a strangled, “Oh, fuck, fuuuck —” He rocked back against Achilles’ mouth, whining as Patroclus bit into his neck. “Sir, ah — a- ha, this isn’t quite how I imagined this going.”
“You’ve imagined us, then?” Patroclus chuckled.
Zagreus’ response was breathy, thoughtless, “How could I not?” There was a grunt, another bite marked against his skin. Achilles jerked his hips into the mattress. “You — ah — Achilles! I —” he gulped in a breath, “— t-trained under him, I had to notice how beautiful he was. And not — nnnnh — not just….” Zagreus’ words were muffled into a kiss. They parted with a soft sound, and then he breathed, reverent, “You’re so perfect for each other. Being between you two seemed impossible.”
Achilles felt the sadness roil off his mate. He freed one hand, reaching to his front to wrap careful fingers around Zagreus’ cock and stroke him off, to give him the pleasure he needed and deserved.
Zagreus clutched at Patroclus, whimpering. Patroclus soothed him, “Shhh-shhhh. We’ve wanted you between us for a while, stranger. We just couldn’t figure out how to get you there. I wouldn’t have brought you with us now if we didn’t want you.”
“You —” Zagreus’ voice cracked. He bucked into Achilles’ hand, a gasp strangling into his throat. “You wanted — did you — did you think about me?” The words poured out in a rush.
“That we did.” Patroclus’ voice dropped to a hungry growl, a sound Achilles echoed. “Talked about exactly what we’d do with you. Always figured he should be the first to have you, so I would take your mouth instead.”
“Ohfuck,” Zagreus breathed. “I — yes, yes, please!”
It was the sound that snapped him. Achilles took Zagreus by the hips and dragged him down. Zagreus gasped as he fell to his belly and slid along the sheets, Achilles hoisting himself up over his body.
Zagreus keened as Achilles’ tendril slid over him, up the curve of his ass to squirm between his cheeks. “Achill— ah — Patroclus, sir, I can feel him — I’ve never had anything like that.” The words came out in a rush.
“You can take it,” Patroclus murmured. He pillowed Zagreus’ cheek on his thigh, running fingers through his hair as Achilles rutted over him. “It’s strange at first, but you’ve never been so full.”
“I want it,” Zagreus moaned. He shifted his knees apart, lifting his ass to present himself to Achilles. “Achilles, sir, please, I want to help you. I’ll be so good for you.”
“How generous,” Patroclus rumbled.
Achilles was dizzy with their mingled arousal. He had just enough control to guide himself into Zagreus instead of rutting ineffectively against him. Patroclus held him steady as Achilles finally sank inside, as Zagreus’ toes scrabbled over the mattress and his voice broke into short cries, rising in pitch with every inch that squeezed into him.
“Feel how deep he goes?” Patroclus cooed, to an answering gurgle. “He’s already more than you’ve ever had, isn't he? And he’s hardly done.”
His already frayed control finally gave. He shoved himself to the hilt, Zagreus wailing as he was stretched wide around the base of his tendril. His body tensed and shook as he came just like that, forced open and clenching around Achilles.
He didn’t go limp like his other mate did once he was spent, just lay with his breath heaving. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, please.”
Patrcolus hissed a curse. Already splayed over him, Achilles stretched over Zagreus’ back, holding him with an arm around his belly as he started to fuck him in earnest.
He’d nearly forgotten this was his first time mating Zagreus. He’d been there for so long, his presence and Achilles’ love and desire all familiar to him. But Zagreus hadn’t had him before, and now Achilles buried himself deep with every rock of his hips, letting himself curl where it made Zagreus tighten up and whine.
A new hunger reared up beside the first, an ache in his teeth. Achilles tipped his head, pushing his lips over the back of his neck.
Patroclus started, “Achilles —” a warning too late. He dug his teeth into Zagreus’ nape. Hot blood burst over his tongue as Zagreus sobbed with another clutch of his body.
Achilles lapped at the wounds, sweet red blood from a mating mark. Patroclus had a note of urgency in his voice as he asked, “Zagreus — are you alright?”
He was worried. Achilles slitted his eyes open, offended. Achilles was taking care of him — it showed in the way Zagreus shuddered and moaned when his tendril curled in just the right way.
“I’m fine,” Zagreus slurred, “it’s good, it’s sogood.” Achilles gave a smug rumble, nuzzling his shoulder. “Sir, can I — can I suck you off? Please?”
“Are you in a state for that?”
“I’ll try. Please, sir, I need it.”
“Gods,” Patrcolus cursed. Achilles leaned up to give him space, watching eagerly, hungrily now as Zagreus held Patroclus’ length with one hand, licking up the side of it. He had to hold himself on one trembling arm, only for it to buckle underneath him.
“Here — let me guide you,” Patrcolus murmured. He shifted, settling against the headboard as he moved Zagreus’ head, putting him where he could take the tip of his cock between his lips. “That’s it. There you are. Nice and slow, stranger.”
The room filled with soft, wet noise, Zagreus sucking at Patrocus’ cock and Achilles buried within him, a slick smack every time he pushed in. Achilles gazed adoringly up at Patroclus, whose eyes were dark and hooded. Both of them were mating Zagreus, filling him to the brim while he made muffled, desperate noises between them.
His mates. His mates. He’d been alone for far too long, and here they were. Achilles shuddered, his stomach tightening, thrusts turning shallow and hard. “Love,” he rasped, “love.”
Patroclus, rolling up into Zagreus’ eager mouth, groaned, “Yes, Achilles. Love you.”
Another muffled noise from Zagreus. Achilles snapped into him once, twice, and then he was spilling. His climax shuddered down to his toes, the world narrowed to Zagreus’ tight passage and the waves of pleasure that took him with every gush of slick.
Zagreus pulled off Patroclus with a gasp, burying his face back against his thigh. “There’s so much,” he groaned. One of his hands slipped beneath him, pressing to his belly, where he would find the pressure of Achilles’ tendril lodged deep inside him as he was stuffed even further.
Patroclus cooed encouragement until Achilles was done. He nuzzled against Zagreus, perfectly blissed out as his cock withdrew and he could simply lay beside his mate, tucking the lad safely between the two of them.
“Oh, lad,” he breathed, a moment before lucidity caught up with him. He gasped, meaning to sit upright, but Patroclus leaned over Zagreus to keep him down.
“None of that. You’ve never been on the receiving end of a nereid’s passions. Hold your prince now that you’ve had your way with him.”
Achilles’ gaze flickered to Zagreus, who had rolled over to face him. “Please, sir,” he said, soft and fragile.
Achilles enfolded him at once, not just the latent instinct but years as the prince’s mentor taking hold of him. He grew Zagreus close, nuzzling down into his hair and purring as Patroclus shifted closer at his other side.
The moment was a floating thing, detached from him. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the reality of bedding Zagreus. Patroclus had made him stop denying his affections, but for all their teasing of one another, he’d never considered a world with this in it: Zagreus laid between them, naked skin on skin.
His purr ratcheted up in volume. Patroclus chuckled, and Zagreus drew back just enough to look at him with wide eyes. “Sir,” he started, “what’s that noise you’ve been making?”
He flushed as Patroclus gave a delighted cackle. Thanking the Fates that the prince didn’t have a clue what a cat was, Achilles said, “It’s called a purr, lad. Some surface creatures do it when they’re, ah… happy. Or, sometimes, for comfort.”
There was a wonder in Zagreus’ face. “I’ve never heard you do that before.”
“I can’t without shifting like this,” Achilles explained. “And before you ask — I can choose to shift whenever I please. It’s only during my season that it becomes involuntary.
Zagreus took it in as attentive as any lesson, while Patroclus leaned over him, smiling, “Yes, that does mean he can fuck you like this any time he wants. It is something else, to have him like that while he’s slow and sweet.”
Achilles remembered. Patroclus, trembling underneath him, head cast back, mouth wide open, Achilles not even thrusting into him but just letting his length undulate inside, let the slow teasing draw a weak, dribbling orgasm from his lover as his voice stretched and broke.
Zagreus flushed. “I can… only imagine.” He smiled. Then, not-quite-shyly, “Patroclus, I never did finish what I started. Do you want me to…?
Patrcolus hummed, and Achilles realized he must still be hard. Knowing a gods’ stamina, Zagreus would be as well. “It’s tempting, but I really do need to pace myself right now. May I take you up on that another time?”
Zagreus, who had been deflating, brightened at once. “Of course! If you both still want me here, I very much would like the same.”
“I told you, stranger, we’ve wanted you with us a long time, now.” Patroclus nudged Zagreus onto his back, shifting over him. “May I prove it?”
Zagreus pulled him into the kiss. Achilles watched with parted lips. He knew that kiss — deep and languid, like Patroclus had all the time in the world to map out precisely how to make your toes curl. Zagreus gave a shuddering little sigh when they parted.
“Is that just for him?” Achilles asked, before he could think of anything clever. “Kissing you, I mean. May I?”
“Greatest of the Greeks,” Patroclus scoffed, while Zagreus grinned and clambered over Achilles.
They swapped slow kisses between the three of them, paused only for quiet laughter — Achilles’, at least, born from the delight of having them both, afte swearing he could touch neither.
It ended shortly with Zagreus giving an uncomfortable sound and saying, “Sirs, um. Have we got time for a bath?”
The problem became evident the moment Zagreus got out of bed: his thigh was wet with a bluish slick, leaking between his cheeks. He and Patroclus both —
Achilles exhaled. “I’m going to get some wine. Fair warning — once you’ve washed, I’ll just fuck you full again. And I get the feeling I’ll be, ah… harder to satiate, this time.”
Zagreus squirmed in place. “That’s — yes. That’s fine.”
Patroclus and Zagreus headed back to the baths while Achilles let his break to the kitchen calm himself. He felt like he was floating — this deep into his cycle and he’d already have exhausted Patroclus, ordinarily. Now both of them were up on their feet, washing each other and trading kisses.
He found a bottle of mortal wine purchased from Charon and three cups to carry to the baths. Patrcolus was washing Zagreus’ back when he arrived, looking up when Achilles dropped into the pool to wade across the shallow end to them.
He couldn’t resist taking a kiss from each of them, now that he was allowed. It was equally satisfying to pour their wine and slake their thirsts. He only wished for a larger pool to swim in, to flaunt himself for them — and that was only half the nereid in him talking.
The longer they stayed, the further Achilles felt himself drifting. He stood in the pool, Patroclus seated on its edge as Achilles mouthed along his collar. There was an indulgent air to Patroclus, cupping the back of his head, rewarding him with nails scraped over his scalp when he put his lips where Patroclus liked them. He cupped one pectoral, sucking at his nipple and then parting his lips to just let his teeth dig into the skin of his breast.
Zagreus’ warmth settled at his back, arms winding around him as his lips touched his shoulder blade. It made him want to sink down, rest his head in Patroclus’ lap and brace himself for Zagreus to —
Oh. Oh, so he wanted that, too. And why not, when he had two mates, one to breed and one to breed him —
It took Zagreus’ gasp for Achilles to realize he was grinding back against him.
Patroclus hummed, “I think it’s time we get him back to bed.”
“Yeah,” Zagreus breathed.
Words were slow to his tongue, but Achilles said, “Think this — this one’s strong.” It came out slurred. He leaned into Patroclus, letting himself be guided out of the water and first into a towel, then up in Patroclus’ arms.
“Pat,” he breathed, head lolling on his shoulder as they trailed back down the hall. “Patroclus.”
“You’re in quite a strange mood today,” Patroclus commented, voice low.
Achilles kissed his jaw. “Patroclus. Oh —” He shivered. “Please.” His length was unsheathing, letting off the pressure in his abdomen, rolling over his own belly and leaving a trail of sticky blue. He wound his arms around Patroclus’ shoulders, lips touched beneath his ear. “I want you to fuck me,” he told him, voice a slow drag. “While I — ah —”
His head lolled back onto Patroclus’ shoulder, hips shifting, trying to rub himself against Patroclus’ belly. “Breed our little mate,” he rasped. “I’ll take care of him, so, you — please?”
Patroclus clutched him closer, while Zagreus made a strangled sound. “I think we can do that, beloved. What say you, stranger? Do you want that?”
Achilles reached an arm over Patroclus, down to Zagreus. “I’ll take care of you,” he promised, fervent and intent upon him. “Fill you up until it takes. Just lie still for me.”
When he was lucid again, Achilles would be humiliated to remember what he said. Now, though, Zagreus’ were wide and dark. He nodded, voice breathy as he said, “I can do that. I can take it.”
“I know you can.” Achilles couldn’t cup Zagreus’ face, so he skimmed his fingers over his cheek instead. “My good mate. Ours.” He nuzzled into Patroclus.
“Ours,” Patroclus agreed, a word that made Zagreus’ breath catch.
Patroclus set Achilles on the bed once they’d gotten to their room. Achilles was slipping further, words drifting from him. He grasped at Patroclus as the man kissed him, hooking a leg around his waist to roll him underneath. Achilles ground down on him, enjoying his heady sighs, but Patroclus stopped him when he tried to get between his legs to push inside.
He growled. Patroclus ushered him away. “Not me.” His voice was firm, making Achilles sneer at him but shrink away. Patroclus gave him an unimpressed look. “Did you forget your promise to our godling?”
The growl became a croon, and Patroclus chuckled. “This is nice,” he murmured, kissing Achilles’ jaw. “By this point, it had always been a nightmare for both of us. I’d be too tired, and he’d stop but it hurt him.” Guilt crossed Patroclus’ face. He’d always been frustrated by his inability to satisfy Achilles in this state. Even letting Achilles fuck him long after his exhaustion put him to sleep, he’d wake up feeling sore and raw and unpleasantly used, and then it became a fight on both of them feeling miserable or leaving Achilles to cry out alone in bed for a mate that wouldn’t come.
He sighed, then looked to Zagreus to beckon him over. “Come, stranger. Get comfortable. He’s going to want you here for hours. Remember — he will stop if you want to.”
“I think I’ll be fine,” Zagreus laughed, breathless as he crawled onto the bed. He was met with the two already there, Achilles pulling him into his lap, Patroclus crowding at his back after slicking his fingers with oil. They rock with one another, Zagreus trapped between their constant attention — Patroclus working him back open, Achilles’ tendril curled around his cock, both their mouths pressing over his skin.
Impatience colored Achilles’ touch, the gentle mouthing becoming nips, dragging bruises across his throat. The slow-building heat had become a fire, until he was wound tight and nearly trembling with the effort to not just yank Zagreus onto his cock. Patroclus chuckled, leaning back with a final slick sound. “There,” he husked. “All ready for you.”
Achilles seized him. Zagreus hit the bed with a bounce, gasping, the haze in his eyes brightening. He maneuvered onto his belly in time for Achilles to mount him, holding Zagreus down and fitting himself against his mate’s body. Patroclus gave a reproachful Achilles, his scolding ignored. Slick nearly poured off his tendril, dripping over Zagreus’ thighs and his loose, open hole.
He shoved himself inside. Zagreus shouted into the air as Achilles fucked himself deeper in quick, brutal thrusts. Zagreus had no leverage to brace himself, flat on his belly, just clawing at the sheets and crying into the pillow Patroclus had given him. He had no choice but to take it as Achilles fed more and more of his length into him, not bothering to take his time in his haste to be completely sheathed in a willing hole.
Achilles nearly snarled when he was sunk into the base. Zagreus was tight and hot and provided such little relief. Achilles braced himself up to keep rutting into him, all while Zagreus jerked and clawed at the sheets. Every shove punched a cry from his mouth.
Patroclus ran his fingers through Zagreus’ hair, gentle and grounding while Achilles fucked him without a shred of restraint. “I’ve got you,” he soothed. “You’re doing so well, prince. Just let him take what he needs.”
A purr rattled out, agreeing, not letting up for a second. He’d fill his mate until it dripped out of him, breed him deep. Everything he needed, Achilles would give it to him.
His first orgasm came faster than those before, Zagreus heaving for breath as it spilled into him. It spurted out around Achilles’ cock with every thrust, trickling down his balls and the insides of his thighs. He didn’t stop, just gripped his hips and sang his pleasure as he fucked his mate full.
Zagreus’ voice grew ragged, a strangled little noise rasped out as he was forced into his own climax, coming with his cock trapped between his belly and the sheets. Soon his gasps were high, reedy cries, writhing under Achilles — “Too much, sir, gods, I can’t, I can’t —”
“Need a break, love?”
“Nonono, it’s good, so good, sir —”
Zagreus shoved his face against Patroclus’ thigh, clinging as his oversensitized body was used as nothing but a hole for Achilles to fill. He came again before Achilles, this time with the salt-smell of tears and sobbing breaths. Copper pricked the air as his nails broke Patroclus’ skin.
“Steady, steady. You can always stop.”
Achilles spilled into him again. He slowed this time, grinding leisurely into Zagreus through each pulse of his seed. Then he rolled him onto his side, crooning at the sight of him — eyes rolled almost back and tears trickling down, skin blushing red, mouth hung open. He was only half-hard, the head of his cock shiny and painfully flushed.
Achilles rumbled with satisfaction, and started to move again.
He lost track of time. It became a haze of movement, putting Zagreus back on his belly, filling him again and again and again . Zagreus stopped making noise at one point, perfectly pliant beneath Achilles as he pumped into him.
Patroclus vanished and returned without his noticing, announced only by the appearance of nectar and the cool sweetness on his tongue, rolling Zagreus into his lap for him to drink. Then back down, Achilles splayed possessively over Zagreus’ body, Patroclus’ fingers in his hair to groom his sweat-soaked curls.
He reveled in it: his first mate, his beloved, absolutely perfect as he kept them both safe while they tended to each other. It made a new ache pulse in him, beneath the place where he was sunk deep inside his mate.
“Patroclus,” he crooned, the name distorted around his purrs. He shifted his legs apart, inviting, begging. With his cock still buried in Zagreus, his slit was on display, shining slick. “ Nnnnn… want you, please.”
Patroclus gave a slow exhale. “Yes, love. Right here.”
Achilles trembled as he felt large hands slide up his thighs. A finger stroked over his lips, then sank inside to the knuckle. He clenched around it, not nearly enough, rocking back for more. Zagreus gave a muffled sound, too fucked out to do anything more than twitch as Achilles shifted inside of him.
“Needy,” Patroclus murmured. “Adorable.” Then, he pressed his mouth to Achilles’ cunt. A hot tongue lapped over him, cleaning the mess of slick that had gushed from him. It was a pleasant, languid touch, almost soothing, easing the ache between his legs.
Achilles sighed, rolling his hips. Zagreus whined beneath him.
“Poor thing,” Patroclus smiled, pressing a kiss to Achilles’ thigh. “You’ve ruined him.” Then back to his task, lapping into Achilles with his palms holding his legs apart until Achilles was rocking back against his face. It was a dull and easy pleasure, never building, just constant. He needed more.
“Patroclus.” His voice was plaintive.
“Shhhh. Alright, alright. I’ll give it to you.”
The blunt head of his cock touched Achilles’ folds. He pushed in, an unyielding glide instead of Achilles’ squirming push. His body was made for that meddling fit, and being forced open and made to fit around his mate had a half-pained moan squeezed out of his chest.
“Almost,” Patroclus grunted, one last rock of his hips to seat himself completely inside of Achilles. Braced on his elbows, Achilles sank back over Zagreus, mouth open and panting. He was sandwiched between them, split open on Patroclus’ cock. Every thrust made him push back into Zagreus, rendering the body beneath him to a squirming, gasping puddle.
He took Zagreus’ hands, holding them palm-down in the sheets. He laid just like that as Patroclus fucked him slow and heavy, until he wrung another orgasm out of him. It leaked into Zagreus, felt more in his pulsing cunt until Patroclus followed him over the edge, composure finally cracking with a broken gasp.
Finally satiated, Achilles rolled off of Zagreus, into Patroclus’ chest. They sprawled in the bed together, a heat-haze of contented exhaustion filling their lungs, his mindless purrs filling the air.
They laid together until damp sheets grew uncomfortable. Patroclus rolled out of bed grunting, “Alright, this is disgusting. Up with you, back to the baths.”
Achilles grumbled, but staying in bed was an unpleasant thought now as he came back to himself. He got to his feet, marveling at how good he felt, pleasantly sore and still lightheaded with affection.
Realizing Zagreus hadn’t moved, he turned, face coloring as he saw the prince — as he was what he’d done to the prince. Zagreus was still limp in bed, his neck and shoulders a mess of bruises. Laid on his side, Achilles could see the lightest bulge to his belly, even without Achilles inside of him.
Pat rested his chin on Achilles’ shoulder, looking down at their prince. “I do not remember that,” he drawled.
“You were unconscious,” Achilles mumbled. He pulled away to scoop Zagreus into his arms, murmuring, “Here, lad. Let’s get you cleaned.”
They padded back to the baths on shaky legs, sinking into the warm spring instead of the cool. A chorus of relief echoed through the chamber. The shock of heat brought Zagreus back to them, his body tensing before Patroclus put a comforting hand at his back.
“Peace, stranger. Just washing up. It’s the third time, for us.” He sent an amused look to Achilles.
Zagreus went loose again, sagging against Achilles. He craned his head up, then looked back to Patroclus. “Was it good for you two? You mentioned… it could be unpleasant, in the past.”
“Best I’ve ever had,” Achilles said, his filter obliterated. Patroclus sniggered as he cleared his throat, saying, “I… Well. As you’ve seen, I demand far more than a single mortal can comfortably provide. And even if there were people willing to bed me with both my reputation and my… non-human traits… I wanted nothing to do with them. If it wasn’t Patroclus, I’d chase them away.”
“The only thing that kept him from biting one man’s throat out was he was too busy trying to breed me,” Patroclus hummed. The word sounded filthy on his tongue, and Achilles flushed as he recalled his precise fixation. Zagreus bit his lip.
“Pardon me if this is out of line, but… I would love to see that,” Zagreus gave a breathless laugh. “The, uh. Not the other man, but. You, and Patroclus…”
Even Patroclus fell into an embarrassed quiet at that. He was proud of his composure — Achilles was likely the only man who had seen it shattered. Though, Zagreus had gotten a glimpse now.
“Well, if you enjoyed yourself,” Achilles broke in, “I would… frankly, I would beg on my knees to have you join us again. But only if you enjoyed this as much as us.” He stressed the last part.
Zagreus gave him a dopey smile. “Sir, I have never been so well fucked in my life,” he declared. Pat coughed out a laugh. “I can’t remember the last time I wanted to sleep. I really want to sleep. I don’t think I could do that all the time, but… yes, please.”
“And what about outside of his cycles?” Patroclus hummed. “Care to join us then, too, stranger?”
“We’d love to have you,” Achilles said, aching with the depth of it.
And Zagreus says, “Well, I can’t exactly say no to that.”
Relief breaks in his chest. He sighs, tips Zagreus’ head up into a kiss, and fetches the pitcher to begin pouring water over Patroclus’ hair, reveling in the simple privilege of taking care of them both.