Forbidden Gods
X. Boat Sickness
Out of a thousand ships he chose, Achilles picked the one next to Agamemnon's own ship. He must have been guided by the hand of Apollo because he jumped on the same ship boarding the Prince of Troy. But he didn't know this until afternoon when they were well out in the sea on their passage home.
Those that kept the boat assail were star-struck when they learned the great war hero will be sharing the same ship as they. Achilles began searching down below on one side of the boat, but found only food supplies, weapons, and gold. As his hopes dimmed he wound up in a conversation with an average solider name Scarto. "Is there any other possessions that this ship is holding other then food?" The solider thought for a moment, string into space before this memory caught up with him. "Oh yes? The king strictly warmed us not to harm him in any way. It's a prisoner from the city. Some say it's a prince, but the royal line of Troy was murdered." When he turned to face where Achilles last sat, he was gone and saw him making his way to the other side of the ship, and went below. Scarto was a little worried that he cause a mess of something and delivered the prisoners' death other then security. But an excused was already formed in his mind if any harm came his way and he continued on his duties.
When Achilles reached the bottom of the steps, inside the ship he found a door that was on the far right side. Immediately he assumed that it was Paris' prison and opened after he lifted the latch that lock it in. It was a small dark room with a table of fruit and some blankets for a bed. But no body lay on the bed. In fact, Paris was interrupted pacing the room back and forth and was startled when the door opened. Achilles' smile came back and again a weight was lifted. "Paris!" He came to embrace his friend in welcome and they did.
"Why are you here? Do you know what's going on? I meant to leave that morning but they came in before I had a chance to get away, I'm sorry!" Paris bent his neck to rest his head on Achilles' shoulders in comfort. Achilles stroke his silky curls to show his forgiveness, and then his two hands grasped both sides of Paris' face to look into his. "I was scared you were dead. If I would have known they would come for you, I'd warn you. I meant to talk to you about last nig" He was cut off by Paris. "What about last night?" The tone in his voice worried Achilles. He began to fear that it was only a one night stand. Or that the wine god was playing tricks on him that night.
Achilles started to become not his courageous self, but a dribbling man speaking nonsense. "I mean, I was worried that you would....I don't know! It's just that I'm not sure that you meant it... I was worried that I wasn't good enough-maybe if you want- we could forget about this right no"
Again Paris stopped him, holding two fingers to his lips. "I do not regret last night. My feelings were true and so were my actions." Achilles knew that such words were honest because Paris' eyes locked into his and after he spoke then remained for some time. Paris' intentions screamed to kiss the man before him and he leaned into Achilles to do so; but behind his mind whispered a regretful secret thought that he couldn't decline. He killed my brother, and now I am friends with him and even worse, I care much more then that for him? And with that one thought, he jolted away from Achilles' lips.
The warrior was drowning in fear and embarrassment, but he didn't show it. He was trained to hide some feelings. So he just griped Paris' shoulders in a manly way then began to exit out of the room leaving his prince. "Where are you going?" he cried. Paris dreaded that his friend was going to leave him here without any of his questions answered. But Achilles turned towards him before opening the door.
"It's too early to take up out on deck. When night comes and the men are asleep, or perhaps drunk I take you out of your cage." There was no lie of deceit in his eyes and Paris nodded, accepting his choice.
The day soon was cloaked in a deep blue sky sparkled with dotting stars, and the water was black, highlighted in the same blue as it reflected off the moon. The soldiers and sailors slept below, cramped in their personal sleeping space, dreaming of their missed families and friends. Above, Achilles and Paris walked around the perimeter of the boat over and over again, spilling out their ideas of the topic their conversation would be based on. "To me, red looks so dark and violent if you pick that as your main color in a room. And no room should have that kind of theme to it." Achilles motioned his hands in the air to better give Paris a visual of his idea on decorating. Paris raised his eye brows in amusement and grinned on how much a cold blood killer cared so much of decorating.
When Achilles knew this, he playfully jabbed in to Paris' ribs with his elbow. "Shut up! I'm serious." Paris chuckled at the thought of it and Achilles joined. As their laughter ceased a long silence grew between each other. Paris thought this would be the only opportunity to ask Achilles of something important. "Why am I not dead yet?" It was a disturbing question from one so young, especially if you knew that someone. Achilles had no other cover-up to mask the truth and no random idea came to him. He didn't want to see Paris' face when he told him the truth. His feet stopped moving and he looked out the horizon. "Agamemnon plans to take you back to become his prince." Paris dropped his curiosity transitioning to pure disbelief. "No. Achilles please, tell me. Is it you that has been keeping me alive." He was not buying it. He never heard of such a plan and hearing it work; kidnapping the enemy's son to turn him on his side. It was a fool's game of strategy.
But from Achilles' lack of response, it was true. Paris fell quiet, Achilles couldn't even hear him breath anymore, and his presence drew distant. The prince trembled in horror and slowly backed away from Achilles as if he was once again the one to blame. "Paris, don't." the hero whispered desperately. He motioned to walk towards him but Paris' steps hesitated to dash, so all he did was stand there as their bond slipped away from his control. Hell with these games! Achilles thought, and he lunged at Paris, trapping him from escaping in his strong arms. "Don't believe I didn't oppose. I did, many times. And I was shocked as you are now, to hear such a torturous plan." Paris blinked constantly, and broke free from Achilles' grip. He made his way to the bow. Achilles feared he was going to jump, but he just rested on his hands that supported him from the rail. His breaths were quiet and shallow, but short.
Achilles quietly came from behind him and slivered his arms around the prince's delicate waist. He didn't dare hold him too tight for he feared on scaring the creature away more. Achilles tilted his mouth to Paris' ear only to whisper his feelings. "I would never drive you into such conspiracy." Paris absorbed the feeling of Achilles' arms gathered around him. Both of them were washed in urges to become more close to each other. The only thing stopping them is what the other was thinking. Achilles was the first to break the ice.
He lightly kissed along Paris' shoulders up and down, again and again. Paris tried to fight his sexual feeling for Achilles; tonight wasn't a night for this to happen. He gripped the railing ever more tight, squeezing out his intentions, but they only grew more rapidly. The uplifting feeling below his hips became unbearable to ignore, and as did Achilles. He gradually pushed himself into Paris from behind and when Paris felt his weight increasing, he slowly turned to face him, so that he can push himself frontward.
"No, this can't happen. Not now." Achilles didn't want to listen to Paris. He knew he was right, but ever since they parted he longed to hold him again like this. If he dared did that again he would drive himself crazy if not to hold him once more. Achilles nodded yes and back off of Paris. They could only resist the temptation so far, until both of them merged into each others arms again, only this time their lips were locked; tangling their tongues with each others.
They were not modest on how loud they moaned because no prying ears could be able to hear through the waves of the ocean and through its deck without opening it's creaking door. Achilles pushed into Paris harder then ever; to impatient for him to take off his clothes. The prince untied Achilles' skirt and his sarong, leaving them on the deck. Next he stripped off Achilles' breast plate, lunging to his neck; where he now knew would set Achilles off, which did. Achilles' groin, now erected began to leak little by little. He grabbed Paris' ass and lifted him to sit on top of the railing. He tried to copy what Paris did to him last night; that he never felt before in his life, or even imagined.
Paris was climbing his way from Achilles' neck to his salty lips until he reared away from a burning pain. It felt something was probing into him and he let out a painful moan. Achilles caught Paris' neck and calmed him down by nibbling his bottom lip; only to steer his attention from the burning feeling between his legs to somewhere else. His strategy worked, and the ticking pain left, evolving into a beautiful feeling leaving Paris burning up. Achilles pushed into him as before, but this time Paris really felt him go into him. Exploring something that no man or woman as ever entered, and to imagine that was how Achilles felt last night. Now they were both even. Knowing how wonderful it felt to be inside one another feeling the heat and passion of what grew between them. Paris tightened his strength in his legs that wrapped around Achilles' body, breaking off their passionate kiss to breathe. Achilles continued vigorously. Indeed, they felt as if heaven had gathered them two and caught them in its net. But Achilles wanted to not stop tasting him. Rich oils and soap still stained his skin from his days being royalty, and a distinctive taste of vanilla. He lavished Paris' body with kisses and stopped at his nipple sucking on it as if a vampire were drawing blood. Paris moaned again, stretching his neck to the stars, the overwhelming feeling in his cock released on Achilles' stomach slowly dripping down his legs. After a while, Achilles was exhausted and weary while Paris was also drowse of the whole experience.
For a while Achilles' ankles trembled but rested upon Paris. He reclined his head on Paris' neck and stared out on the black, night time waters. He stroked the princes' hair, and felt from his lack of movement that the prince was just as worn out as he was. They barely clothed each other, only to make their way down below, to sleep on Paris' bed down stairs.
Two weeks past on the ship, and the two enjoyed each others company. Some nights they would endure each other just to feel the other's breath next to them, or they would ride out the night and collapse on top of one another painted in their sweat. Achilles spent most of his time in Paris' quarters. No one bothered questioned him because the feeling getting close to home was buzzing around the mouths or minds of men all day and night. And no one had any idea what goes bump in the night. But as the men's spirits grew as they inched their way to Greece. Paris wilted at the thought of what's awaiting for him at he palace gates.