Work Text:
Telemachus takes a deep breath of fresh air. The cloak concealing his frame whips in the breeze. The moon is full, and the stars wink at him from their place in the sky.
The palace was getting a little too stuffy, and the amount of paperwork still left on his table did nothing to comfort him. The prince left home after dinner to explore the kingdom on his own at the encouragement of his parents. He was also very glad to escape the teasing about his non-existent love life (somehow brought up by his own mother).
He yawns as he walks through the dimly lit streets. The market stalls had long since been abandoned. One of the only signs that people were still up at this hour were the glimpses of torch light shining through the windows of a few of the huts.
He adjusts the blade handle strapped to his belt so that it wasn’t jabbing into his side. Athena had gifted the small knife to him for his birthday, and now he carried it everywhere. He thought that it was the least he could do to show his appreciation for her, and that he was actually listening to her lessons. The goddess often lectured him about being prepared for any possible outcome, even in the safe borders of the kingdom.
Still, none of Athena’s lessons could have prepared him for this.
“Watchu doing out so late at night by yourself Little Wolf?” A voice says from behind him.
The prince yells out in alarm. As far as he knew, he was alone. He pulls his cloak tighter around his body, fingers brushing over the knife handle.
“Oh, didn’t mean to scare you, Wolf.”
“Who are you?!?” He asks, trying to hide the panic in his voice. Only a small number of people used that nickname so casually.
He squints in the darkness and makes out a slightly taller form.
“One little argument and you don’t recognize who I am?” The man smirks, stepping out of the shadow of an oak tree.
Telemachus’ breath catches as the moonlight shines on the person’s skin.
He looked just like Antinous, but oddly younger. His tan skin and dark eyes were exactly as he remembered. The prince stares at the stranger’s face, expression contorting into a mix of fear and confusion. He shakes his head.
Impossible.
Was there something in the wine he drank during dinner?
He decides to do the first thing that pops into his sleep deprived mind: run away.
“Hey, where are you going?” The man calls, as Telemachus begins to speed across the street.
“Leave me alone.” He says, moving faster. His sandals slap against the sidewalk, closely followed by another pair.
“It’s too dangerous out here! Remember what happened last time?”
“Like you care! I can handle myself.” He bites back. He probably should have asked the man who he was before booking it down the street like some spooked deer. He could already hear the lecture Athena was going to give him once he got home about his rash—or lack of— decision making skills.
The rational part of his brain tells him that there was no way this was the same guy. Still, the ressemblance to the late suitor was…unsettling. A relative maybe? The mere sight of his face is enough to trigger the “flight response” instilled in his brain.
Telemachus slows down, fighting back the urge to disappear. He figures the man wouldn’t have called out to him if he didn’t wish to speak about something.
Curse these princely obligations.
“Aww…someone’s feisty.” The other boy says, catching up to him. He slings an arm over his shoulders, already making him regret the decision to slow down and talk. Telemachus tenses at the close proximity.
He has to remind himself that this was not him. Just a (most probably drunk) stranger whose face was scarily similar. Way too similar for comfort.
Telemachus tries to shrug him off, hiding away his annoyance and pressing his lips into a thin line.
“Sir- sorry I didn’t catch your name?” Telemachus says, cringing at the crack in his voice.
“Antinous.” The man responds, hanging his head in what looked to be genuine confusion.
“Haha…right. Antinous.” Images of blood and lifeless eyes fill his vision against his will.
The fates were really testing his patience today.
“Maybe you’ve mistaken me for someone else?” He continues, the corners of his mouth twitching as he plasters on a smile. There were probably other people in Ithaca who were nicknamed Little Wolf, right?
“Unless there is another Prince of Ithaca around here then, no. I don’t think I’m mistaken.” Antinous grins.
Telemachus’ smile drops, inhaling sharply.
Guess not.
“If you have any issues or concerns, it might be best to take it up with my father in the morning.” He tries again, his hand unconsciously wrapping around the handle of his hidden weapon.
Antinous laughs. “Oh cm’on your majesty, why so formal all of a sudden?” He responds, leaning his head into the crook of his neck affectionately. The prince gasps, his cheeks heating. He grimaces, pushing Antinous’ face away. The look-alike laughs again.
“I know you’re kind of upset about earlier but- WOAH, HEY!”
Within seconds, the prince had kicked his legs out from under him and pinned him to the floor. Something just snapped.
The few villagers who roamed the street stopped to watch the source of the ruckus. Telemachus was too preoccupied to see if their expressions were of concern or amusement.
So much for a quiet evening.
“I’ll slit your throat! That’ll shut you up!” He glares at him, breathing heavily. Antinous just stares, eyes flitting from the knife pressed to his throat and his attacker’s gaze. Telemachus struggles to keep his composure. Great. He might have just threatened a civilian. Athena was going to kill him.
This could be considered self defense, right?
His hands shake. “Tell me, who are you and what do you want?”
There is a moment of tense silence before the other responds.
“You’re beautiful.” He breathes.
Telemachus almost chokes on air at his words. He is especially taken aback from the look of adoration on his face.
He looks away, heat rising to his cheeks. His grip tightens on the handle of the blade.
“That doesn’t answer my question…” he mumbles.
Did he just…?
"I honestly did not think you had it in you. Kinda hot if you ask me."
Telemachus' jaw falls agape. He shakes his head, forcing his eyes away from the other's gaze.
Was he actually flirting with him? With a knife to his throat?
“I can’t believe this. I’m just asleep. Or hallucinating or…”
He sheaths his weapon and turns to walk away, still flustered. He pulls the hood back over his head. There was definitely something in the wine at dinner.
“Telemachus… I know you’re upset-”
“Upset? YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD!” He yells, whipping around to face him. The Antinous look-alike freezes. “I saw your body. There was an arrow lodged in your throat. You were the first to die!”
“Are you having nightmares again?” Antinous asks undeterred, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. The prince smacks it away. “Yell at me all you want, but you know your parents are going to be worried about you. I’d usually support your late night escapades but-”
Telemachus huffs. “Listen sir, whoever you are, you need to shut up and mind your own business. I’m fine.”
Antinous frowns. “You don’t seem fine.”
“I was fine before you got here!” Telemachus moves to leave, but stops to look back when he feels the warmth of another hand in his. He stares down at their interlocked fingers in surprise, complexion tinted a light pink.
“Tely, what exactly did I do to make you mad?” Antinous pouts, sounding hurt. Telemachus’ eye ticks at the pet name. The former suitor brings his hand up to his mouth, planting a soft kiss on his knuckles.
Telemachus quickly yanks his hand away, heat creeping up his neck.
“Ah, let’s see, does attempting to murder me twice answer your question?” His voice is a few octaves higher than it was before.
Antinous gapes at him.
“When did I- You were going to kill me five seconds ago!”
He’s already dead. He’s already dead. He’s already-
“You hit on my mom!”
“What? Where did you get that idea?!? I like your mom and all, but not like that. She’s literally 20 years older than me!” He catches himself. “Don’t get me wrong, she's beautiful! I mean, I can see where your good looks come from.”
“Stop complimenting me!”
“No!”
Telemachus huffs, his initial confusion replaced with annoyance. His head spun as he realized that he was probably arguing with a—very much alive—dead man.
“Unbelievable. I’ve officially lost it.” Telemachus storms off, back in the direction of the palace grounds. In his moment of frustration, he failed to notice the dip in the ground in front of him. He trips, twisting his ankle in the process.
Yep. Athena was definitely going to have his head now.
Antinous grabs his arm, stopping his fall and pulling the indignant prince towards him.
“Careful there, I wouldn't want you to fall for me again.” He smirks.
They’re standing close enough that Telemachus can feel his breath fanning his face. He barely registers the throbbing in his ankle.
Telemachus shoves him away, hopping on one foot to keep his balance. He’s unable to get very far before tripping again.
“Falling for you?” He scoffs. “What even gave you the impression that I liked you?”
Antinous raises an eyebrow. “Wolf, you were the one who asked me out, so-”
“I WHAT?!?”
The prince begins to laugh hysterically. Antinous continues to stare at him, dumbfounded.
Telemachus tries and fails to keep it together. He doesn’t know whether his uncontrollable fits of giggles were coming from the pure absurdity of the situation or because he was insanely flustered.
“Telemachus? I’m starting to get a little worried here…” He says, tilting his chin up with his fingers. Telemachus’ crazed laughter dies in his throat as Antinous leans closer to examine his face, dark brown boring into his grey-blues. His stomach flips.
Nope nope nope nope nope nononononononono-
At this rate, he’d rather have Ares run him through with a spear.
Telemachus’ mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He can’t bring himself to move or come up with a quick-witted response.
Antinous smirks. “You’re adorable.” The suitor’s eyes darken, flitting down to his lips momentarily.
All the prince can manage is a nervous laugh.
”Very eloquent. You sure you’ve been training with Athena?” He laughs, a low and gravelly sound that sends shivers down his spine. The moment he starts stroking his cheek with his thumb is Telemachus’ breaking point. He swallows, his throat feeling dry.
He’s surprised that he doesn’t even protest when Antinous moves to close the gap between them.
The kiss is deep, yet chaste. That, accompanied with the pain in his ankle does nothing to stop Telemachus’ knees from nearly giving out. His eyes flutter shut, and the only thought that runs through his head is:
What the hell is happening?
They part, and Telemachus does not understand where the dopey grin on his face is coming from. Antinous says something that he fails to process. It takes him a good minute before returning to his senses.
“Palace. Need. Now. Go.” The flustered prince chokes out, pulling away suddenly. His words come out in a jumbled mess, his tongue and brain failing him. Antinous chuckles, adding insult to injury.
Telemachus shakes his head in an effort to right his foggy brain.
”Did I just- did we just? WHAT THE FU-“
“Need me to walk you home?” Antinous asks him, a grin stretched across his features. Telemachus wants to jump off a bridge when the butterflies in his stomach return.
“Nope!” Is his hurried reply. He ignores the pain in his foot as he hobbles back to the castle, questioning the probability of the events that just took place. He doesn’t dare look back.
Telemachus later finds out about “Aphrodite’s practical joke” and has to be physically restrained by a giggling messenger god.