Archive of Our Own ^beta

Neoptolemus felt his cheeks burning with shame—and maybe desire? —before he even lowered himself to his knees.

He was not some common whore. He was a soldier, the best of the Achaeans after his father and one of the most brutal who remained, and he could destroy crowds of men with the ease of merely lifting a spear.

But he was not a master of everything, and when Telemachus asked him to, he got down on his knees.

“Good boy,” Telemachus said, stroking his cheek with his thumb. Neo wasn’t into it yet; he felt bitter and patronised, naked in his vulnerability. He didn’t say anything, and Telemachus tilted his chin up to look at him.

“You’re going to be good for me,” Telemachus whispered, smiling down at him in the way he did when he knew he was in control. “I know you are. Open your mouth, Neo.”

Neo’s skin prickled. He had no problem with commands—was used to Telemachus giving them to him—but felt weak and humiliated by being given something so simple. As if he didn’t know how to open his mouth. As if he needed to be instructed.

Telemachus knew how he prickled at the beginning, and adjusted his hold accordingly. His grip on Neo’s chin turned bruising.

“Neo,” he said. “Be good for me. Open.”

Feeling humiliated and ridiculous, Neo parted his lips and let his jaw drop, just barely. Immediately, Telemachus pushed his thumb between his teeth, holding it there with a palm to his cheek and forcing Neo to adjust. He tasted like rainfall and sweat. Neo closed his lips around him, looking him in the eyes like a challenge.

“We’re going to go slow,” Telemachus said, his thumb still in Neo’s mouth. It felt weird when it touched the roof of his mouth, almost triggering his gag reflex but not quite. He breathed through his nose, pushing it down and trying to relax around it. “I’m going to talk you through it. And you’re going to slap my hip if you need me to pull off. Okay?”

Neo nodded, and Telemachus pulled his thumb out of his mouth with a pop. He rubbed Neo’s saliva off on the fabric of his chiton, and then unpinned it entirely, tossing it to some unseen corner of the room without care.

He didn’t seem to care that he was naked and Neo was not, his cock already hard and leaking right at eye level where Neo sat on his knees. Neo felt a flutter in his chest, part arousal and part anxiety.

“Good boy,” Telemachus murmured, running his hands through his hair. He gathered his curls up in handfuls, clutching it close to the roots in a way that made pleasure tingle up Neo’s spine. He used his hair to leverage himself, holding onto him and pulling him closer.

Slowly, Neo leaned with the pull of his hands, letting his nose run along the shaft of his cock and kissing him at the base. Telemachus sighed, shuddering slightly.

It didn’t bother Neo that this was something he wasn’t good at. Of course it didn’t. It wasn’t supposed to be done at all, was a filthy and shameful pastime that he’d never thought much of before Telemachus.

Except Telemachus loved doing it, and he was excellent at it. He wasn’t put off in the slightest by the shame and the taboo, and managed to look like a work of art even when tears were spilling from his eyes, his mouth and throat stretched around Neo’s cock like it was easy. He was a wonder.

And that was why Neo being bad at it was a problem. Because it felt good when Telemachus did it, and Telemachus deserved to feel good, too. So Neo would have to learn, for him, and who better to learn from?

Neo took his time to begin with, trailing sloppy kisses from the base of his cock to the tip, lavishing attention on the underside that made him groan deep in his throat. He was smaller than Neo, so theoretically it should have been easier to take—yet he could swallow Neo to the base like it was nothing, and Neo choked and his throat closed up at the slightest intrusion.

“Enough teasing,” Telemachus said, in a breathy voice that he’d probably meant to be a command. He cleared his throat. “Neo. Open your mouth.”

Neo suckled on the head of his cock, not quite taking it in all the way, and Telemachus groaned and yanked him away by the hair. The burn on his scalp went straight between his legs.

“Neo,” Telemachus said, more harshly now. He held him in place, too far back to reach his cock. “I said, open your mouth.”

Reluctantly, Neo dropped his jaw. Telemachus tightened his grip in his hair.

“All the way. Let me see you.”

Neo grumbled, “It doesn’t need to be all the way.”

Telemachus pulled his hair again, this time pulling a sharp sound from the back of his throat.

“It needs to be whatever I want it to be,” he said. “And I said I wanted it all the way open. So open your mouth. Properly.”

Cock throbbing, Neo opened his mouth properly. He could still feel the heat of embarrassment flushing his cheeks and shoulders, but it was harder to focus on now, with the rush of arousal in his gut and the sparks of pleasure at the roots of his hair. Telemachus let go of him with one hand to pat his cheek, patronising in his praise, and even that felt impossibly good somehow.

“Good boy,” Telemachus said, loosening his grip on him. Slowly, he steered him forwards again, guiding the tip of his cock into his open mouth.

Neo watched him for any more sudden commands before he closed his lips around it, swirling his tongue and listening to him whimper. Neo was usually the first of them to look away, but this time it was Telemachus who broke eye contact to shakily close his eyes, his breathing coming unsteady as Neo braced his hands against his thighs and sucked.

“Fuck, yes, that’s good,” he breathed, adjusting his fingers in Neo’s hair. Neo brought one hand up to his cock, gripping him at the base while he continued to suck on the tip. Telemachus made a sound that was something like nnghgnnggnh. “Okay, ah. Now we’re going to try and take it a little deeper.”

This was the bit that Neo was not good at. It already felt as though his mouth was as full as it could get, his jaw aching embarrassingly from the stretch, and yet most of Telemachus’ cock was still held in his fist instead. He had no idea how he was supposed to keep on pushing it further down his throat.

Breathing through his nose, he tried to flatten his tongue and relax himself for Telemachus to push deeper. He moved his hands to grab at his thighs again, holding on tight to ground himself. Telemachus stroked his hair a little, as if recognising he was nervous, and pushed his hips just the smallest inch forward.

It felt wrong. He didn’t gag, but it felt like he would, so strongly that every inch of him urged him to push away and gasp for air. Every muscle in his body went rigid, and Telemachus paused his movements and stroked his hair again.

“Good boy,” he said, and he shifted back, just a little bit less than he had moved forward. “That’s it, you’re doing it. You’re doing good. You can tap out any time you need to.”

Neo breathed in through his nose, and then out. He did not gag. He ran his tongue up the underside of Tele’s cock, and Telemachus groaned and shifted forward a little more.

Neo gagged. More than that, he panicked.

He felt it in his chest as soon as his throat closed up, and he shoved Telemachus away all at once, falling back on the floor spluttering and gasping. It only took a second—despite how close he’d been holding him, Telemachus let him go in an instant—but his body reacted as though he’d been drowning and only just made it to the surface.

Telemachus crouched down and reached for him, trying to murmur out praises. “Hey, it’s good, you’re okay, you’re okay. You did good, it’s okay, you can stop now, sweetheart. It’s okay, Neo.”

He managed to get a hold of him, pulling him up and pulling him close, tucking him into his chest and holding him tight until his breathing settled. Neo fought to get himself under control, fought his body to stop panicking when he knew he’d never even been in real danger.

Telemachus was still stroking his hair when he pulled away, trying to refocus himself. “I’m okay. Let’s try again.”

Telemachus didn’t stand up, still crouching in front of him with concern in his expression. “We don’t have—”

“Let’s try again,” Neo said again, this time with more of a snap to his voice. He sighed, not wanting to yell. “I can do it this time.”

Telemachus looked like he wanted to argue, but backed off, getting back to his feet. Neo shuffled closer on his knees, and he paused, hesitating.

“Let’s go over to the bed,” he suggested. “I’ll sit down, that might be better. Easier for you to control.”

Neo frowned, but decided that it seemed like a fair idea. “Okay.”

Telemachus went to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching across to grab a cushion to place on the floor for Neo’s knees. He felt himself flush a little as he went over, steadying himself on Tele’s thighs as he lowered himself down. Tele bent over to kiss him on the forehead as he settled himself.

“Good boy,” he murmured, stroking his hair back and fiddling with his thick curls until he had them in hand the way that he wanted. Neo stroked his thighs absentmindedly as he did, staring at his cock and preparing himself to take on the challenge once again.

Telemachus stuttered out a moan as Neo put his mouth around him again, bobbing slightly over the head without taking too much down. He put his fist around the base of him again, his other hand braced on his thigh, and spent a few minutes just bobbing in place, swirling his tongue over the tip and hollowing his cheeks.

He was stalling. He didn’t want to stall. Even though Telemachus was moaning so pretty, his hands so nice in the thick of his hair, like he could come just from this. Neo wanted it to be good.

Slowly, he relaxed his jaw, let his tongue lie flat, breathed out slow and deep through his nose. With his hands braced on Telemachus’ thighs, he lowered himself down, just a little bit.

“Good boy, that’s it,” Telemachus murmured above him. Neo didn’t feel like he’d earned it yet.

Concentrating on keeping his throat relaxed, he bobbed up and down a little bit, trying to adjust to the intrusion. Telemachus moaned softly, and Neo let it bolster him to push down another inch.

Neo choked. He tried not to panic, squeezing Telemachus’ thighs and willing himself to stay still, even as his throat contracted and made awful noises. His eyes watered from the pressure, and Telemachus stroked his hair with nothing but softness as he murmured, “Good boy, good boy, you’ve got it, that’s it.”

For nearly a full minute, Neo refused to move, staying solidly still between Telemachus’ legs, his mouth stretched around more than half of his cock. Telemachus was breathing heavily, but didn’t move to rush him.

“You’re doing so good,” he said breathily. “You’ve done such a good job, Neo. You’re good. Fuck, mm, you’re good.”

Slowly, Neo moved his head up, and then back down, just a little bit. Telemachus gave a full-body twitch under him, clearly trying to keep from arching his hips up into Neo’s face. Neo held him down by the hips as he moved, his vision going blurry from reflexive tears and his shoulders tensed, ready to push away again at the first sign of danger.

“Oh gods, oh fuck, yes,” Telemachus was chanting, his hands still in Neo’s hair but now merely resting there, letting Neo do the work. “Oh, Neo, oh, you got it.”

Neo pulled off him, just briefly, and gasped for air. Telemachus grasped at his face like he was trying to pull him up off his knees, but he stayed resolute, pumping him with his fist while he caught his breath.

“Are you good?” Telemachus asked, his voice strained as his hips flexed and tensed under Neo’s hands. “I—mgh—you can come up, if you want, I’m close—”

“I’ve got it,” said Neo, surprised by the roughness of his own voice.

He took Telemachus back down, challenging himself to push as deep as he could on the first go, and again his throat constricted and made horrible gagging sounds that escaped from the corners of his lips. His eyes streamed, but he forced himself not to pull all the way back, relaxing until he could resume his slow bobbing rhythm, cupping Telemachus’ balls with one hand just to feel him tip his head back with a guttural sound.

“Fuck!” Telemachus cried. He gripped Neo’s hair so tight that it sent sparks of pleasure-pain down his spine, but let his hands follow the movements of his head instead of tugging him. “Gods, Neo, that’s it, that’s it, I’m close—”

Neo hollowed his cheeks and sucked, keeping Telemachus’ hips pinned as he shuddered and cried out. He pulled back right as Telemachus came, one hand pumping him at the base, and coughed on what little had gotten in his mouth as the rest of it spurted across his cheeks.

Telemachus groaned, his thighs tense under Neo’s hands, and Neo kissed his cock gently as he came down, twitching with aftershocks. He flopped back onto the bed, shivering under Neo’s touch, and softly tugged on his hair, urging him upwards.

Neo came to him, letting him pull his face into its usual resting place at the side of his neck and kissing him there softly. Telemachus held him tight, breathing heavily and kissing him in the curls of his hair.

“You did so good,” he breathed, smoothing his hair back from his face. Neo remained tucked in the side of his neck, where he was safe. “Was that okay? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Neo managed, his voice rough and raspy. “I just wanted you to feel good.” Telemachus held him a little closer.

“You know you don’t have to do that to make me feel good, right?” He kissed Neo’s temple, then tilted his face up to wipe his come off his cheeks. “Everything you do makes me feel good. Doing that to you makes me feel good.”

Neo didn’t say anything for a minute, letting Telemachus dab at his face and lick his own come off his fingers. When he was finished, he kissed him softly, leaving no spot on his face unkissed.

“I want to do for you what you do for me,” Neo whispered.

Telemachus smiled, and kissed him gently.

“Then all you have to do is love me, like I love you,” he whispered back. He pulled Neo back into the crook of his neck, holding him close and breathing in his hair like it was the last source of oxygen in the world.