Chapter Text
The tent was dark and heavy with heat, the night pressing in against the thick canvas. Odysseus reclined across the cushions, hair tumbling over his face, chiton bunched at his hips, the curve of his chest catching the flickering lantern light. Diomedes knelt close, dark eyes intent, lips brushing along Odysseus’ jaw with teasing precision.
“Give in, Odysseus. Let me lead. Let me take charge.”
“No,” the Ithacan laughed, tilting his head away from Diomedes, playfully narrowing his eyes.
“Don’t make me do it, Odysseus.”
“You wouldn’t! You love me too much to do that!”
Diomedes ignored his words, wrapping Odysseus’ hair around his fingers and tilting his head even further to the side.
“No! Don’t do it, I’m warning you, Diomedes! You’ll regret this!”
The threat was bellied by the laughter spilling from Odysseus’ lips.
Diomedes smirked, lowering his head.
“Dio-“
Odysseus was cut off by a moan as his body arched. Diomedes' teeth sank into the flesh of his clavicle, knowing it was a weakness.
When he pulled back, their lips met in a frenzy of teeth and saliva. Odysseus’ lips moved harshly against Diomedes’, tongue exploring the other’s mouth, drinking in all of him that he could. He was still fighting to be the dominant one, which Diomedes found funny. He never lasted as the dominant one.
They broke apart, panting, eyes heavily lidded with lust.
“Say it,” Diomedes muttered, going back to nipping at the other king’s throat.
Odysseus’ hands tangled in Diomedes’ hair, tugging lightly, hips lifting in subtle protest, and yet every movement was a silent invitation.
“Uh, uh, uh. Say it, my little snake, or you won’t get what you want.
Odysseus glared, but he was far too deep to back out now. They both knew that, yet he still let the tension stretch before he finally gave in.
“Please…” he breathed, voice low, urgent, as Diomedes’ teeth grazed the sensitive convergence of shoulder and neck. The bite drew a sharp inhale, a strangled moan that broke free, raw and unrestrained.
“Harder,” Odysseus gasped, body arching involuntarily as Diomedes leaned in, teeth pressing and releasing, tracing the curve with deliberate cruelty. Every brush, every nibble, stole his breath, leaving him with only the guttural language of moans and pleas.
Diomedes’ hands slid over the lean planes of Odysseus’ body, brushing against silk, gold chains, and heated skin, pressing, claiming, coaxing. “You’re impatient,” he murmured, lips grazing the king’s throat, teeth nipping harshly. “Always craving more than you can take.”
Odysseus groaned, head rolling back, lips parting in a soft, pleading whimper. “Please… don’t stop…” The words came ragged, half-command, half-surrender, each syllable vibrating with hunger. He tried to speak further, to taunt, to protest, but Diomedes’ teeth brushed and pressed again, stealing sound, drawing shivers and gasps instead.
“Again,” Odysseus whispered, voice hoarse, trembling, “harder… please.” Each bite, each graze of teeth across the sensitive curve of his shoulder and neck, drove him further into a heady chaos of sensation. His fingers dug into Diomedes’ shoulders, tugging, pulling, seeking anchor as moans spilled freely.
Diomedes leaned closer, letting his lips and teeth trace the curve of neck and jaw, teasing, marking, guiding. “You’re relentless,” he said, voice low and amused. “Even under my teeth, you demand more.”
Odysseus’ breath caught, chest arching, hips lifting in response to each deliberate bite. “Yes… harder… please…” He could not fully command, could not fully resist. Every groan, every shiver, every ragged intake of breath was surrendered fully to Diomedes’ control, yet threaded with defiance, the playful edge of a king who never truly yields.
The tent seemed to shrink around them, heat pooling like liquid, wrapping them in private chaos. Odysseus’ eyes rolled back briefly, lips parting for another guttural, pleading sound. “Please… harder… again…” Each word was a tremor, a pulse, a concession and a challenge, and Diomedes responded with deliberate cruelty, teeth claiming, lips pressing, fingers teasing along gold cuffs and silk, pressing the king closer to the edge of sensation without ever letting him fall fully.
Odysseus groaned, soft, sharp, wild, head rolling back against the cushions. “Please… don’t stop… I need… more. ” His voice trembled, every syllable a raw, shivering plea. Diomedes smiled, teeth brushing again, lips pressing closer, hands moving with unerring precision over the curve of shoulder, chest, and thigh, coaxing and claiming.
“Ask for me, Odysseus. Call for me, love. Scream my name, and all you want will be yours. Just use your words.”
Odysseus’ breath was ragged, moans spilling freely, body arching instinctively, yet still threaded with the sharp glint of playful defiance. Each time he tried to growl, to snarl, to resist, Diomedes pressed harder, teeth grazing, hands grasping, fingers pressing into muscle and silk, the king caught between surrender and stubborn command.
Finally, voice trembling, strained, but vivid with want, Odysseus gasped, “Please… Dio, more…”
“Only because you beg so nicely for me, my little snake.” Diomedes leaned closer, lips brushing along jaw and neck, teeth grazing deliberately, and Odysseus shivered violently, unable to speak beyond ragged pleas, each one building into a rising storm of sensation that left him trembling, gasping, and entirely at Diomedes’ mercy.
The night wrapped around them, silent but heavy with heat and the heady, intoxicating pull of control, surrender, and desire. Odysseus’ words—pleading, commanding, needy—wove the rhythm, and Diomedes moved in perfect response, the bite, the brush of lips, the press of hands creating a private, inescapable symphony of pleasure and tease that left Odysseus gasping, begging, and alive in a way only Diomedes could command.
“Fuck, please Dio-“ Odysseus was cut off by a moan as his lover bit into his shoulder—hard.
Diomedes’ hands moved up, one grabbing his hip, the other threading around behind his back. He pulled Odysseus in closer as he claimed his mouth, devouring him. The Ithacan king tried to protest, but his body betrayed him as his hips jolted, moaning as his still clothed cock was rammed into Diomedes ‘ thigh.
The Argive broke the kiss, twisting one hand into Odysseus’ hair, pulling it harshly. His lover’s breathing stuttered.
Diomedes grinned wolfish, letting go of Odysseus, dick throbbing at the whine he let out. “Strip.”
And he did. He immediately tore his silk chiton off—not caring if it ripped, yet somehow keeping it intact— showing off his beautiful bronze skin. Diomedes was on him before the chiton even hit the ground, hands encircling Odysseus’ wrists as he forced his hands above his head. Before Odysseus could react, a mouth was covering his nipple.
“Yes! Oh, fuck, yes, Dio, fuck…”
Odysseus squirmed as he began to suck hard, teeth scraping against sensitive flesh. Moans and gasps fell from the Ithacan’s lips as his back arched into the feeling. Diomedes’ freehand moved to Odysseus’ inner thighs. He rubbed at the tender skin, and Odysseus’ legs fell open slightly, instinctively.
That was enough.
The larger king moved his knee, placing it between Odysseus’ legs, spreading him wider. Then, he lifted his mouth from the nipple he had been nipping with an obscene pop. Odysseus’ mouth fell open. “Diomedes, please!”
He ignored him, instead shifting so his knee was pressed against Odysseus’ cock.
“Youre going to have to beg more than that, little king.”
Odysssus tried to stay silent, but he failed after about a minute.
It was Diomedes’ fault. His mouth had gone to the other nipple while his free hand twisted Odysseus’ wet one that Diomedes had just unlatched from. He was doing okay, despite the teeth, until Diomedes decided he wanted Odysseus to fall apart—quickly. He let go of the nipple he was currently lavishing with attention. Then, he moved his hand down so it was resting on the uppermost part of Odysseus’ inner thigh. After that, he began rocking against the man he had pinned.
“Fuck me, please, Diomedes.”
Odysseus arched into the feeling as Diomedes wrapped a hand around his dick, moving it steadily, yet slowly.
“Not yet, my pet, not yet.”
The Ithacan whimpered, thrusting into Diomedes’ hand as his eyes rolled back into his head.
Not long after, Diomedes bent to kiss him again. Odysseus was prepared, rising up a bit to meet him, teeth clashing as they collided. Diomedes’ tongue was allowed into his lover’s mouth immediately as Odysseus wrapped his own tongue around it, playing, begging.
“Fuck, Odysseus, love…” Diomedes panted when he pulled back. “Are you trying to make me lose control?”
His answer was another roll of Odysseus’ hips.
“By the gods,” Diomedes snarled. He let go of Odysseus, allowing the man to fall back onto the couch as Diomedes undressed quickly. He then picked Odysseus up, locking their mouths together again.
He carried him over to the bed, dropping the Ithacan. Odysseus sat up immediately , panting as he waited to see what Diomedes would do next. The man stared at him, eyes full of hunger and desire.
“You know just what you do to me, Odysseus. Every fucking time, you know.”
Odysseus moved closer, and Diomedes lunged forward, tugging his head into the Argive’s stomach. Odysseus’ mouth fell open immediately, taking the tip of Diomedes’ dick, running his tongue over the slit.
“Gods…” Diomedes’ voice was just above a whisper as he wound his hand tighter through Odysseus’ locks. The Ithacan just hummed, taking only a little bit more, hollowing out his cheeks.
The next time Diomedes glanced at him, Odysseus was peeking through his eyelashes up at the man, lips perfectly wrapped around his dick. Diomedes couldn’t take it anymore. He thrust all the way into Odysseus’ mouth, making the king gag.
“Good,” Diomedes ran his hands through Odysseus’ hair as he began moving his hips slowly. “Good, Odysseus. Ah, fuck… yes, fuck, take me.”
The shorter king bobbed his head, and Diomedes saw the telltale bulge in his throat. He couldn’t handle that. His hips snapped forward, thrusting at a brutal pace.
Odysseus’ hands grabbed at his waist, not to stop him, but to ground himself. He was moaning as well as he could with the obstruction in his mouth, sending jolts to the base of his lover’s cock. Diomedes growled, picking up his pace.
He came after a few minutes, deep inside Odysseus’ throat, watching as the Ithacan swallowed his load. He pulled back only when it was obvious Odysseus needed air. The smaller king gasped, looking absolutely wrecked as cum spilled from the side of his mouth. Diomedes grabbed him by his hair, tilting his head up as their lips met once more. The Argive could faintly taste himself on his king, keeping his dick hard.
Diomedes pushed Odysseus back onto the bed, and he spread his legs immediately, opening himself up. Diomedes grabbed the bottle of oil from the table beside the bed.
“Ody, my little snake, you look so beautiful right now. I can’t help but wonder how… enticing you’ll look once we’re through.”
“Then stop waiting and get on with it, Dio.” Odysseus’ voice was already rough as he spoke. Diomedes grinned.
He set the bottle beside them, laying on top of Odysseus, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head. His lips met Odysseus’ gently. The smaller king whined, letting his jaws open and Diomedes’ tongue slide in.
“Youre perfect, my little Odysseus. You beautiful, wretched man.”
Diomedes dipped his head, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids.
“You look-“
“Diomedes, shut up about my looks and just fuck me.”
“Ouch,” the king mockingly pouted.
“I’m about to make tender love to you, and you have the audacity to cut me off when I’m praising what deserves to be worshipped?”
Odysseus rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Nothing about this is going to be tender, Diomedes, and you know it. Neither of us do ‘tender’. And if you want to shut me up so badly… then be my guest, but you’ll have to put in some effort.”
Diomedes grinned at that.
“Well if you insist~”
He grabbed the bottle of oil, poured some on his fingers, and then ran the tip of his middle finger around the rim of Odysseus’ hole. Odysseus inhaled sharply. “Please, Diomedes, please.”
Without further ado, Diomedes pushed his finger up to the second knuckle. Odysseus moaned as the other king began moving his finger in and out.
“More, Dio. More. I can take it, my boar.”
That was all Diomedes needed to hear to pull his first finger out almost all the way before thrusting back in, adding a second as he scissored his lover’s tight ring of muscles.
“Gods, Ody. You're so tight for me, love.”
Odysseus was only able to moan as Diomedes picked up his pace. He began curling and flicking his fingers until Odysseus let out a moan, his body arching into it.
“Dio! Fuck, fuck, fuuckk, I need more. I need you, ah, fuck, please!”
Diomedes just grinned, quickening his pace as he abused Odysseus’ prostate. He added a third finger after a bit, moving even faster. It was only after he had used four fingers to work Odysseus open that he felt he was ready. He pulled his fingers out, smirking as Odysseus whined, disappointed by the lack of attention.
“Hush, my precious snake,” Diomedes laughed.
“I would be quiet if you just ugnh-“
Odysseus arched, his legs shaking as he shut his eyes tightly. Diomedes smirked, tightening his grip on Odysseus’ hips as he continued easing himself inside his lover. The Argive groaned as he felt Odysseus clench around him.
Odysseus panted, fingers flexing, trying to grip Diomedes, even though his wrists were being held in a bruising grip.
“You still,” Odysseus panted. “Haven’t made me successfully shut up.” His words were broken by gasps as Diomedes began thrusting in and out of him.
The other king bent, nipping at Odysseus’ inner thigh. He loved the little whines and moans the Ithacan let out every time he left a mark on him. And Diomedes was a master at leaving marks.
Odysseus writhed as Diomedes ducked his head, peppering kisses to his thighs before suddenly nipping at random intervals.
“Fuck, boar, if I—hngh— wanted to be—oh, fuck— bruised gently like this, I would have asked Menelaus to—ugnhh— come to my tent tonight. You going so fucking slow.”
Diomedes chuckled darkly, nipping again at the tender flesh at the same time as he hit Odysseus’ prostate, causing yet another moan to spill from the man’s mouth.
“Really? Because you sound like you’re enjoying this. If I didn’t know better, I would say you're just trying to get a rise out of me.”
Odysseus panted, body arching into the skillful touches of his lover.
“And do you know better?” the Ithacan panted, somehow managing to smirk.
Diomedes narrowed his eyes at him, pausing for a few seconds.
“No. I’m not sure I do.”
With that, he pulled out of Odysseus until just the tip of his dick was in the shorter king. He let the anticipation build for a few seconds before slamming himself into Odysseus, making the man’s mouth fall open into a silent scream as his eyes rolled back into his head.
“Even if I was sure, I would do it anyway.”
He pulled out before thrusting again, hiring a different angle this time. Diomedes kept slightly repositioning himself with each thrust until he found the bundle of nerves he was looking for.
Odysseus arched more when he found it—it seemed Diomedes might snap his spine this time—, beautiful tears falling from his wide eyes as his lips parted. Diomedes leaned forward, capturing those lips with his, satisfied that he had gotten such a reaction from him.
“Fuck—mph— Odysseus, you're so beautiful when I—ahh, fuck—get you like this, my precious viper.”
Odysseus could only whimper.
Diomedes chuckled again, snapping his hips forward as he fucked Odysseus. The king grabbed one of Odysseus’ legs and swung it over his shoulder, quickly following it with his other one. Odysseus moaned loudly, brokenly, as Diomedes hit deeper inside him.
“Harder! Ha—fuuckk—rder. Har—hunghn—“ Odysseus lost the gift of speech as Diomedes listened to his request the first time.
For a few moments, the only sounds in the tent were their mingled gasps and moans, and the sound of skin on skin. Diomedes leaned over to slopping kiss Odysseus again, finally letting go of his wrists. Odysseus took the opportunity to claw at Diomedes’ shoulders, pulling him closer with his hands and body. Their breaths mingled, both panting in pleasure, until Diomedes dipped his head, nipping and sucking at Odysseus’ neck.
“Fuuckk, Dio, I’m close. Please—ahng, gods—don’t stop…” Odysseus trailed off as Diomedes looked into his eyes. The Argive kissed him gently.
“Cum for me then, Odysseus. Fuck, fuck, let me finish unraveling you.”
With that, Diomedes thrust again. Odysseus’ eyes rolled into his head as his hands scrabbled at Diomedes back.
“Dio—me—des!” The Ithacan cried out as he came, ass clenching around Diomedes’ cock, which set off his lover. Diomedes growled, plunging his head down and sinking his teeth into the hollow of Odysseus’ neck and shoulder.
He continued to thrust until Odysseus was shaking from overstimulation. Then, he flopped down on top of the Ithacan. Odysseus gasped for breath as his arms instinctively wrapped around Diomedes. His legs were still around his waist, and Diomedes’ dick was still in his ass. Diomedes was pretty sure Odysseus’ legs were stuck like that.
“Can…you…move?”
It took Odysseus a few seconds to be able to respond.
“…no.”
He sounded utterly wrecked. And that made Diomedes want to fuck him again. He wanted to see just how much he could unravel his precious little king before he came completely undone. However… it was obvious now was not the time. He couldn’t even move his legs, for Aphrodite’s sake.
Diomedes chuckled softly, massaging Odysseus’ hips, trying to help his legs unlock.
It took about fifteen minutes before Diomedes could remove his lover’s appendages from around his waist. Once that was done, he pulled out only to lay back beside Odysseus, both of them curled on their sides, facing the love of his life. He took Odysseus into his arms, placing a kiss on top of his head.
Five minutes later, Diomedes was almost asleep when Odysseus spoke softly to him, words slurred and mumbled thanks to his exhaustion.
“I love you, my stubborn boar.”
“I love you too, my beautiful snake.”
A few moments later, the tent was quiet save for the sounds of sleep’s deep breaths.