#odychilles

If you want the helmet of an enemy soldier then lay claim to all of his armor. Then when another wants his boots you are not being pressed to give up what matters and are seen as magnanimous to those who fail to understand. The intelligent know that you never really wanted them.

As a result Diomedes wanted for very little. He would like nice things. Silk felt good against his skin and having the money to get anything he needed was a great comfort. But he did not want, not openly.

That said, there were some things he had no intention of sharing. That something was in their tent while he paced outside. If he rushed in it would be the end of something. A life. A secret. Something wouldn’t survive. But could he stand to stay outside? Could he stand to not know?

Like an animal in a cage Diomedes paced as he tried to convince himself that it was just what the others in camp had said, nothing to be so focused on. No matter what he told himself he could remember the moment things began to cause a problem so clearly.

Achilles had pressed a charge against the enemy forces up hill after it had rained with only a small fraction of his usual force, anyone with half a mind knew it to be madness but he was adamant about it. Odysseus had begun to chastise Achilles upon his return.

“Boy!” Odysseus had been so frustrated with the impulsive decision that he yelled across camp. Achilles froze mid step with something wrapped in a cloak over his shoulder.

“Are you actively attempting to die?” Odysseus had demanded. “That was foolhardy at best; suicidal would be a better way to describe it. Did you give no thought at all to the rain? You could have easily lost your footing and then what? What poor man would you have liked to carry your body home? How would I have told your mother you died because bloodlust clouded your mind?” The demigod shrugged his shoulder and handed the bundle to Diomedes. A young myrmidon scout they’d presumed dead was wrapped up tightly. His condition was poor but he was still breathing.

“I repay their loyalty with my own.” Achilles stuck his chest out as if he was daring Odysseus to disagree with the decision.

“Loyalty has a hard time extending beyond death. I would prefer not to watch you die.” Odysseus had sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That said, it was very noble of you. A good king is one who treats his people with the same protection as he would give his children. Good job.” He reached out and pat Achilles’ chest.

Diomedes had noticed the way Achilles' face colored but he had no reason to expect that it was like throwing a scrap of meat to a stray dog. But the damned creature kept coming back for more. Always digging around for praise from Odysseus, though being scolded would do. If anything, Achilles seemed to like that just as much.

Diomedes was not a blind man! Achilles was not one to abide criticism from a god, why would he accept it from Odysseus if there were not an ulterior motive? The man who was as territorial about his tent as a lion was it’s cave casually mentioned that Odysseus was welcome to come by whenever he wanted. Achilles had gone out of his way to encourage Patroclus and Odysseus to speak! That was as blatant as the man could be!

Why did none of the others seem to notice that Achilles was lusting after Odysseus? He felt like a madman screaming to the heavens every time he pointed out the obvious attempts by Achilles to gain Odysseus’ affections. The only one to offer anything akin to acknowledgement was Menelaus who encouraged Diomedes to pay it no mind as Achilles would likely lose interest soon. Which was nonsense as you didn’t just ‘lose interest’ in Odysseus.

And then Patroclus who had randomly approached Diomedes and assured him he had nothing to worry about. It did absolutely nothing to assuage his worries.

Diomedes knew not why Achilles had slipped into the tent but he knew there would be no keeping his composure if he saw Odysseus lounging in Achilles’ arms. Diomedes wouldn’t jeopardize the war effort just because-

“Oh.” The sound was soft, involuntary. All too intimate.

Diomedes’ body reacted faster than his mind as he spun on his heel and stormed into the tent. The scene before him was a strange mixture of horror and relief. Achilles was indeed making himself comfortable on Odysseus’ bedroll, but his hands were gripping at the cloth rather than Odysseus’ skin. It was Odysseus who was running his fingers down Achilles’ perfect body as he laid face down and completely stripped.

“Don’t worry.” Odysseus assured the demigod as he kept his hand on Achilles’ back. “It’s just Diomedes.” He pressed his hand down and Achilles followed the silent order to relax again. He wasn’t sure how to feel about ‘just’ Diomedes. “Young Achilles was having some pain and he’s been doing so well recently it’s the least I could do to help him work out some tension.” He pressed down on Achilles’ shoulder and grins wickedly as the man couldn't bite back a groan.

The powerful demigod did not look like a king or a general as the tips of his ears went red. He far more resembled a young eromenos falling apart under the experienced touch of his erastes. Perhaps Diomedes was biased but he seemed far more tolerable like this.

“It feels good doesn’t it?” Odysseus asked. When there was no response he paused his hands. “Doesn’t it?” “Yes sir.” Achilles’ voice was breathless as he moved his arms to better hide his blushing face.

Nothing to worry about indeed. "Perhaps I can help." Diomedes strolled over and knelt near Achilles' head as Odysseus moved further down his body. He pressed his hands against the oiled skin as he leaned over and Achilles gasped as Diomedes' hands worked out a particularly stubborn knot. He took the opportunity to lean over so his lips were close to Achilles' ear. "Know your place with him or I will have your philtatos screaming my name until his throat bleeds." His voice was almost a growl as he whispered.