Pallas, unable to sleep, sat with his back to the wall, straining to hear the sounds of Aeneas' breathing in the room next door. He hadn't stopped thinking about him since the Trojan ships had arrived at Pallanteum, manned with great warriors in glinting armour. The memory made him smile, especially the deliciously wicked grin Aeneas had had on his face when he had first seen him.

Pallas' father had told him all about the brave and noble Trojans when he was young, but for some reason he had always pictured them as dirty foreigners, a bit hairy and greasy, like the guy with halitosis who always wanted to rub oil into his back at the symposia, rather than devilishly attractive as Aeneas was. His hair, far from being greasy, shone like ebony as it fell in soft curls around his ears. A light covering of stubble surrounded his lips, which always curled up at one corner when he caught Pallas' eye, like he was smiling at some private joke. And his eyes...his piercing green eyes...

Pallas shook his head and swallowed. He shouldn't be fantasising about a man twice his age, particularly one engaged to an Italian princess. He gritted his teeth. Probably some beautiful, chaste maiden, with thousands of guys pining after her, who would make Aeneas happy for the rest of his life. Bitch.

Casting Lavinia from his mind, he smiled as he remembered the promise Aeneas had made to his father to protect him. So many opportunities to be with him, to prove himself as a true man in battle, to win the heart of the Trojans. Or just to win the heart of Aeneas. To ride off into the sunset together. To sit staring into each other's eyes for eternity. To fulfil every nauseating cliché in the book. Pallas lay back onto his bed and sighed. Everyone knew Aeneas wasn't that way inclined. He had a son after all.

He thought back to the day Aeneas had spent with them. He had barely left his side after their eyes had met over the guest kylix. He grinned as he remembered how cute the great glory of Troy looked when he pouted and stuck his tongue out at Pallas' fit of giggles. Well, he had looked incredibly silly in that poplar wreath. It was too big for him and kept slipping over his eyebrows. Not that Pallas had been watching him all day. He had been paying attention to the festival of course. Something about Hercules, the heroic and courageous blah blah blah something or other. Mind you, Aeneas seemed to have been having trouble concentrating too. His gaze was constantly roaming around the room, subtly flicking back to Pallas every now and then. Probably thinking 'Why does that strange boy keep staring at me?'

Then again, he couldn't be entirely sure that the way Aeneas' hand had brushed his thigh as they walked around the city had been an accident.

Pallas groaned as he realised he was setting himself up for disappointment. Squashing an ant with his thumb as a makeshift sacrifice, he offered a desperate prayer up to the Goddess of Love to take these dreams away from him, or else to... A torrent of lewd images rushed through Pallas' mind. Man, he needed to cool off. Grabbing a towel, he left his room and headed for the river.

* * * * * * * * * *

A contented smile spread over Venus' face as she watched Love wrestle Destiny into the dirt. Now this was good viewing. Let Juno keep her silly war, this was far more her kinda thing. Settling back into her sofa, she turned to Cupid and held out an offering.
'Popcorn?'