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The night was old in Sparta. Two princes were on the porch of King Menelaus’ palace halls. Telemachus watched as servants and soldiers passed by, idly carding his hands through the sleeping Peisistratus’ curls, who was fast asleep on his lap.
Thoughts of his lost father plagued him. A year had passed since he left Ithaca to find him, yet to no avail.
That was when Telemachus heard a hoot from the window. His ears perked up and before he knew it, Athena in her owl form flew past the window and perched herself on Telemachus’ shoulder.
“Athena!”
But the goddess wasted no time. “Listen to me, Telemachus. You shall not stray away from home any further. Ithaca’s waiting with men thrashing your palace and feeding on your riches. Stay longer and this journey will have been pointless. Urge Menelaus to let you go back to your mother.”
Athena continued rambling. Telemachus was put on the spot, but the intentions were clear: Return to Ithaca.
The goddess gave him a few more instructions before she left. Telemachus woke Peisistratus immediately. The other prince shot up, ready to catch the emergency.
“Peisistratus, you must take me to Ithaca. Now!”
“Hold on, hold on. Telemachus, you're shaking.”
Peisistratus’ hands were firm on his. The Pylian looked out the terrace. “It's too late. It's far too dangerous.”
“My mother. She could be in trouble! The men are after her and I won't be there to save her.”
“Breathe with me, my prince.”
Peisistratus slowed his breaths until Telemachus could follow through.
“Better, are we?”
Telemachus nodded, but the turmoil in his heart hadn't calmed down. Peisistratus rubbed his thumb against Telemachus’ hand.
“We will leave tomorrow. But right now, it's been a long day. Rest with me for tonight?”
Telemachus answered with a silent nod. They returned to the guest room Menelaus set for them, both their thin beds joined together.
They stripped their capes and outer clothing off, leaving only their chiton.
Telemachus retreated to the bed. His back was against the mattress, staring at the ceiling.
Telemachus looked over at Peisistratus who was folding their clothes.
Still, admiring Peisistratus was the highlight of all the nights he spent away from home.
Peisistratus sat on the bed. "I believe there is something troubling your mind." Telemachus said, because he had nothing else to say.
“It's nothing. Rest now, Telemachus.” Peisistratus smiled.
Telemachus reached for his friend's hand. “Come on, I know you well enough to not believe you.”
There was silence.
"Once you leave… will I ever see you again?" Peisistratus whispered, the silent longing louder than ever.
Telemachus laughed softly. He sat up. He rested his chin on Peisistratus’ shoulder. He ran his hand all over the Pylian's arm.
"My silly prince, is that even a question? Do you think you could easily be forgotten?"
Even Peisistratus couldn't help but nuzzle into Telemachus’ touch. "We are princes. We are men— no longer boys. Who knows where our duties could lead us?"
"Do you have so little trust in me to forget you? Peisistratus, you are the greatest man I've ever known. You've been nothing but kind to me ever since we met. No princely duty could ever take me away from you. Trust me, my joy, to never forget you even as I sleep.”
Peisistratus hugged him back until they're pressed together as one being, just how Zeus intended them to be. His tears fell as easily as a river.
Then as quiet as a feather, Peisistratus’ voice formed the words,
"Is it a bad time to tell you that I’m in love with you?”
Telemachus froze. So did Peisistratus. Neither have stated the obvious once in their time together. There they sat, awkwardly holding the other in this pathetic tear-stricken farewell that wasn't even a farewell.
Peisistratus loved him — it was both a surprise and a secret he'd known for far too long. From the quick nudges they sent each other under dinner tables, to the times they caught each other's eye when they bathed. Maybe it was the close proximity they've learned to grow comfortable with. Maybe it was Telemachus’ infatuation on his first day on Pylos that such a boy like Peisistratus existed that grew into something more.
All his life, he had been surrounded by unruly men who didn't know their place. He learned to fear even the boys his age, because even they could kill him… or worse.
Then he met the youngest prince of Pylos.
Upon their first meeting, a bitter voice in Telemachus’ head told him, ‘Such a man would never want to befriend a weakling like you.’ He had expected the unmarried prince to be like the ones at home — hungry for power.
Oh how Telemachus was proven wrong.
Because not only did Peisistratus befriend him, but also told him that he loved Telemachus as one being.
Now, it was Peisistratus who was hesitant. Telemachus knew what to do.
The Ithacan cupped the Pylian's face and pressed their foreheads together. Peisistratus put his hands over Telemachus'.
"Why do you fear me, my joy?" Telemachus brought their joined hands to his own bare chest. No monster, island, or ocean could compare to this feeling. "Don’t you know how many nights I've spent trying to reach you? The days we bathed in sunlight and fresh rivers. Haven't you known that I have loved you all the same if not more?”
Peisistratus laughed wetly. In relief or in shock, neither knew.
"It's your turn," said Telemachus.
"Hm?"
"Tell me what's in your mind." Tell me you love me again.
"What's in my mind? The bravest, smartest, boy I know loves me. What else is there to say?"
"Sweet-talker. I'm still not letting you come with me to Ithaca."
"Noooo!" Peisistratus cried.
Telemachus interlocked their hands and placed a kiss on Peisistratus’ knuckles.
"Let me fight for my kingdom, my family, and myself. Only then I can fight for us."
"Of course!" Peisistratus said, as if it wasn't already obvious. "No matter what, I want you to choose your home over me. You've waited this long, my prince. I will wait for you."
Telemachus gazed in awe at the man in front of him. Peisistratus echoed in his heart in the form of harps, campfires, stars, and crystal rivers. This brave, beautiful, kind boy loved Telemachus — looked at him like he'd hung the stars or fought in wars, believed in him as a hero, but loved him as a person. How could Telemachus just let go of that?
Telemachus' thumb grazed over Peisistratus' upper lip. The other boy closed his eyes, but Telemachus opted for a quick chaste kiss on the Pylian's forehead. The rest could wait. He feared that if he'd done more, he wouldn't be able to leave. Either way, Peisistratus melted all the same.
The two princes settled back down on the cot, facing each other with their interlocked fingers filling in the small enough gap between them. Usually, Peisistratus' smiles were bright. He always managed to infect Telemachus with his naturally-induced joy. Now, the smile he wore was expectant, hopeful, and scared all at once.
Peisistratus' thumb rubbed over Telemachus' soft skin. "What are your plans after you find your father?"
'Not die,' he wanted to answer as a quip, but Telemachus just about realized he did not know. Once his father returns, Ithaca will be at peace again. Ideally, there would be no more suitors infesting the palace. After that, what then?
"I don't know..." he softly admitted.
"No plans to be a hero? Take the throne? Marry?"
Telemachus laughed at the last suggestion. He cupped Peisistratus' cheek. "Oh, for sure. I'll wed a lovely bride and be the next king of Ithaca."
"Mhm,"
"We'll be very happy with our children. Child. And as king of Ithaca, I'll pass on a new law to ban wars from ever happening again."
"You'd anger the gods."
"Then let them be angry! At least I'd die with honor in my name," Telemachus whispered dramatically.
"And I'd hear the news of your tragic death. But I won't attend your funeral."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm pulling you back up with me."
Telemachus laughed. "You're impossible."
Peisistratus kissed his hand.
"But I assure you," Telemachus continued. "you'll never have to worry about that."
"Why is that?"
"Because in this world, I won't follow through on the first step."
"You don’t wish to find a wife?" Peisistratus playfully nudged him.
Telemachus shaked his head. "And you, prince of Pylos?"
Peisistratus shifted so his head was tucked under Telemachus' chin. "No."
Telemachus wrapped his arms around the darker boy. How such a simple question could awaken a whole fantasy in Telemachus' mind, he did not know.
Suitors needed to be fought, peace to be restored, and a family to be reunited, but that could all wait for one night.
Tonight, the boy he loved was in his arms, and definitely not for the last time.