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Telemachus shut the door behind him, turning to see Prryhus standing there rather awkwardly. He smiled sweetly, walking towards him. Prryhus adored that smile, unwavering as it was. He admired how the Ithacan prince was able to be so kind and positive and perfect , especially with all those horrible suitors hounding him day and night. Telemachus took a step forward and Prryhus resisted the instinct to step back from the taller man. He is not a danger. The prince reached out to his face, cupping it gently in his hand.
Prryhus’ face flushed the second he felt the Telemachus’ hands on him, tilting his face upward to look in his eyes. Some of his deep red curls fell over his eye, and he opened his mouth to speak. He.. he couldn’t think of anything to say. Prryhus was left speechless, all for Telemachus.
He allowed himself to lean into the touch, staring up at Telemachus with green eyes bigger than normal.
“You’re beautiful..” Telemachus said, brushing the hair from his loves rough face.
If I am beautiful, with these awful scars and blemishes all over myself, then you, Prince, are radiant , Prryhus wanted to say, to scream . He only stared up at Telemachus, trying to take in his face. He thought things he could only ever write down, but tonight he wanted to say them, say them all. All for Telemachus, his prince. He feared the way he looked at the prince with adoration in his eyes was not enough.
The prince tilted his head, his smile fading into an expression of curiosity. It wasn’t often he found Prryhus speechless. He was quiet and thought, longing to use his hands rather than his words most days, but he was never speechless. Prryhus admired his prince, appreciative of the way the black waves of his hair framed his face. The prince's tan skin shone like melted wax in the dim candle light. His blue eyes reflected that same light with such intensity it made Prryhus want to cry.
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” Telemachus said in a silky tone. Prryhus raised an eyebrow. “I know that look, you want to say something. I want to know.”
“Ah..” Prryhus chuckled, hesitant to continue speaking. He didn’t want to speak.. but then again, he never knew what he wanted. “I shouldn’t..”
“You can tell me,” The beautiful princes face twisted in sympathy, “You can tell me anything.”
“It’s.. it’s just- well it’s cheesy,” He chuckled. Prryhus put his hand over Telemachus’, feeling his perfectly soft skin. He felt like the softest wool, even softer than a fleece made of gold. Prryhus’ hands were calloused and rough from years of hardship and war, they lacked the innocence that Telemachus radiated. He longed for that innocence, that optimism… he craved it.
“Cheese happens to be my favorite food,” He smirked, his once sweet smile twisting into something mischievous. Liar , Prryhus thought, unable to hide his amusement.
“Your favorite food is strawberries,” He said. Prryhus took the princes hand off his face and into his own, then took a breath. “They’re almost as sweet as you.. that’s why I love them too.”
“That is certainly cheesy,” Telemachus chuckled, a flush of strawberry red dusting across his face and ears.
“I’m not done yet, my prince,” Prryhus took his hand closer to his face, running his fingers over the princes palm. So soft.. “I say that fruit is almost as sweet as you, but truthfully, it doesn’t compare. You are the honey poured in my wine, addictively sweet. I could get drunk on you day after day and never complain.”
Telemachus laughed, surprised by the things coming from his lovers mouth. “Gods, you’ll give me a complex if you keep showering me with compliments like this.”
“And strawberries have all those seeds over their skin,” He continued, ignoring the princes wide eyes and nervous words, “Those little blemishes are stuck and scaring. You, my prince, are soft as silk and twice as beautiful.” Prryhus bent down and kissed his hand, staring through his lashes at the princes face. He was red as a strawberry, with a hand over his mouth to cover the fact it was wide open.
“Prryhus..” Tears were prickling in his eyes, not yet threatening to spill over but shining nonetheless. Prryhus turned up his head to look the prince in the eye and stepped forwards.
“You are to me what the sun was to Icarus,” His words alone drew a gasp from Telemachus. They were more addictive than any lotus fruit he could possibly consume. “You are the light of my world, my soul, my heart. You could blind me forever and I wouldn’t stop staring.” He could go on, but then they would be there for days.
"You... you can't just say things like that and expect me to stay composed..." Telemachus whispered, his voice shaky. Telemachus took a breath, his hand still resting on Prryhus' chest. His face was a beautiful shade of red, something that couldn’t help but make the boy in front of him smile.
“Then let me put it this way,” Prryhus took Telemachus’ face in his hand and looked down to his lips, “ I love you.” He pulled the princes face down and kissed him gently. Telemachus kissed him back after the surprise faded, replaced only with love and emotion.
When Telemachus finally pulled away, he smiled at Pyrrhus.
“I love you too,” He said, sweet as honey.