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Author : Red Autumn (red_autumn21@yahoo.com)
Website : http://breathless.shadowess.com/
Pairing(s) : Paris/Hector
Warning : If you’re upset by anything here, considered yourself warned. ^U^
Disclaimer : Aw, please. I’m just a fan who loves to fantasize about good-looking guys. I don’t even make money out of this.
NOTE : PWP. AU.
My huge gratitude goes to Mike (ignoble bard) for his wonderful betaing. You’ve helped me made this piece perfect. Thank you.


I used the location in Hissarlik, Turkey, which is thought to be the site of Troy. If you have the chance to go there, do so, for you will not be disappointed. I meandered about the site like an eager child, eyes everywhere at the same time as I tried to grasp the idea of being in an ancient city. I liked to sit under the shade of trees, seeking refuge from the hot sun, but despite that I still got the cool breeze. As I stood on one of the raised walls, crumbled from stress of time and nature, I looked out to the plain and imagined the bay/lagoon lying just ahead. I certainly thought of myself as one of the princes looking down at the prosperity of Troy. The sound of wind, birds, and whispers of tourists, slowly transformed into the sound of a bustling city, the neighing of animals with burdens on their backs, and the occasional odd noises of wares for sale.


~~xx@~ Hector ~@xx~~


I wrote this in dedication to one of my very good friends – Shanaaz. Thanks girl, for being there for me through my worst moment in life and for all your prayers. Please don’t stop your sweet, girlish giggles for they light up my world. ^_^


~~xx@~ P ~@xx~~


I was a man born perfect, with every little toe and finger accounted for. The only flaw I possessed was that my heart and my brain had minds of their own – both in constant battle for dominance. I was not violent by nature, and yet … I simply did not understand myself. Often, my heart won.

Why shouldn’t the whole of me cooperate when everything within me shared the same ambition, the same flesh and blood of my forefathers?

My heart had the notion of being a romantic, falling in love with the first beauty my large brown eyes fell upon, but just as quickly my practical side would march in and barrage me with chastisement for my coquettish behaviour. Such war within me surely was not healthy. Ah, when would I live in peace?

Unexpectedly one day, to my great surprise and shock, every fiber in my body and my conscious existence trembled in unison for one reason only.

Despite my emotions, scaling the precarious precipice of Mount Ida with barely gathered courage, and my rationale, fizzled out from disbelief at its traitorous liaison with its enemy, there wasn’t any doubt that both were held captive by the sight of … one man.


~~xx@~ A ~@xx~~


When I had been here last, I knew not but I was aware that I stood, silent as a phantom, in the shadows at night. And during the day, when light brightened this great chamber, it revealed my cold, lifeless figure – a marble statue adorned in the best fineries.

Alone by the corner, I had a full view of this room. It was not big enough to hold court but was a bedchamber fit for a king to seek refuge from the outside harshness and tiresome demands of the people and war.

Yet this room was no chamber for a monarch, but rather a prince; a very special prince.

The mirror-polished, pink marble floor reflected the many white columns supporting the arched ceiling, a marvelous feat in this great era. The walls were painted with prodigious depictions of victories won or gilded with gold borders and patterns against the white plainness.

Whenever the tap-tap-tapping of the prince’s sturdy steps echoed in this chamber, it reminded me how lonely it could be when no one else was around.

The main entrance was a pair of identical doors of heavy mahogany, with intricately chiseled patterns of spring flowers and nymphs frolicking within the mortal land.

Upon entering, a huge open balcony could be seen immediately ahead which overlooked the quiet cypress and olive sylvan. Just beyond, there was an enclosed bay, the blue glinting waters like countless stars fallen from the sky. What a beautiful matching colour of the heaven, the earth, and the water. The only separation of this room from the outside world is the gauzy curtains, flowing eerily like the white locks of a noble-birth gentlewoman searching through the empty halls for her lost love.

Like her, you entered your chamber and paced about, but instead of seeking for something or someone, you seemed worried. You pressed your hands behind your strong back, a frown marring your handsome face.

I have known your name since I was born, but we had yet to meet under this roof.

‘Hector, Hector.’ The mention of your name was enough to cause my heart to beat fast, like the racing men in Olympia as well as giving me warmth from the cold of the stone in me.

At night we sat side by side, without words, unlike any dreams that could prove more real. By day we found companionship through reverie, of fantastic conjecturing, of time spent together.

You went out to the balcony and leaned against the hand-fashioned, stone balustrades, gazing upon the glory of Troy; its busy port with bustling merchant ships on stop-over for trade and the many curious travelers excited to explore the city behind the citadel.

Restless still, you came back inside. Then you stood in front of me and stared with longing at my face.

Oh, how I wish I could have reached out my hands and touched your bearded face. My fingers would smooth out those creases so foreign on your young features.

You sigh and gaze a while longer, then you turn away and lay on your bed.

I was jealous of the huge red oak bed. I should have been the one made to carry you in your rest, to be draped by your magnificent body. I imagined my skin being the silk cover, caressing yours like the breath of the breeze when you moved and giving you warmth like the embrace of a mother.

I knew you thought me as ambiguous as the mountain mist, a story that might have existed since the birth of men. How could I convince you that I have a real heart that beats as fast as the galloping horses across the plain whenever you’re nearby, or that I was capable of blushing as red as the setting sky? Could you not see that I truly exist despite the fašade you see of me? That I exist because of you.

I heard another sigh from your lips while you settled back to sleep. It was not a peaceful night for you. So I looked to the clear night sky outside and sent my prayers to Athena so that she would take your worries away and let you sleep calmly. She would send to you her wisdom in your dreams that when you awoke tomorrow you would know what to do.


~~xx@~ R ~@xx~~


It was a blur at first, but gradually when my eyes began to focus again, I found you staring at me in a strange manner. You seemed unaffected or perhaps oblivious that I was also watching you.

This was the first time you stood so close to me. Your features softened as if you were daydreaming of something wonderful. When you cocked your head slightly and the light from the window fell on you, I noticed then that your pupils were large and dominating most of your black irises. They were so beautiful like that, so dark and intense, like two rare black pearls. Would I be lucky enough to see them when they burn with the passion of love and desire?

Time was like days spent on Mount Olympus, endless and blissful, as we continued to stare at each other, until finally you pulled back and sat on your comfortable kline (daybed or couch). You crossed your ankles and leaned back with your hands laced behind your head in lazy repose, but your eyes still did not leave me. I wondered what was so fascinating about my eternally frozen features.

From here, I was able to appreciate your handsome profile. Your dark brown wavy hair was combed back to show off a set of strong jaw beneath your short but neatly trimmed beard. You also cultivated hair above your upper lip and I could not help but admire how well it complemented you, giving you an air of Zeus wisdom. I would not be surprised if every woman you passed by gave you a second look of captivation.

Until now, I had been so enamored by your beautiful face that I was not consciously aware that you were wearing only a short kilt. Were you showing off your body on purpose? It was certainly working because I could not tear my eyes off you. Your daily ritual on the fields under the hot Mediterranean sun had gifted you a nice tan and solid muscles on the planes of your torso and limbs.

In the most languid manner, as if moving in thick air, you slipped one hand from the back of your head to your groin. I felt my breath catch in my throat. Dare I imagine what you were about to do?

You lifted your kilt higher, exposing yourself to my eyes. Were you seriously thinking that I would not look? My heart almost fell out of my chest as I continued peeping. You would not have imagined which was hotter at that moment – the temperature of merciless summer or the heat in my face.

Already I felt my jaw hanging wide, too shocked and disbelieving of what was happening. I could not remember how long I had dreamt of the moment to come.

Idly, you grabbed your impressive manhood and stroked yourself slowly, more like you were caressing yourself instead. Somehow that made no difference. Perhaps aided by the mental image that was playing in your head now, you successfully roused your member to full virility, as expected for a young man of your vigor.

You closed your eyes for a moment and your lips parted by themselves; I could almost hear your pleasured sigh if I strained my hearing hard enough. When you lifted your eyelids again, I saw only lust in those dark orbs.

A sudden knock on the door made you jerk completely awake and you stilled your hand. You answered the call and found that you were needed by the King. Letting go of yourself, you rubbed your face in frustration. A king’s summon could not be denied.

I, full of disappointment also, watched forlornly as you stood and went to put on some proper clothes fit to face your king. You looked in the polished bronze to make sure that you were presentable and taking a few breaths to calm down, you strode out in the full confidence of a man who was prepared to face a nation.


~~xx@~ I ~@xx~~


What time of night it was I knew not, but I was sure it was quite late before you returned to your bedchamber, and to me. From the movements of your body and your limbs I could see you were quite exhausted.

You dragged yourself to your bed and started to undress almost lethargically. The effects of the summer heat gave you an excuse to stay bare when away from public eyes. Like all men of Hellenic descent and teachings, you found no shame in exposing your nakedness. You let the air surround you as much as I wished to put my arms around you.

Then you did the most daring thing, but I wondered if it was deliberate – you lay on the bed without any covers on and bared your buttocks for my pleasurable scrutiny. Have you any idea that you had set yourself up so vulnerably to attack?

Ah, if only you knew what ‘attack’ I would devise for you.

How I fantasize to brush those round, hard globes of your buttocks with the tips of my fingers; to see you shiver in delight and perhaps hear you cry out a whimper.

What I wanted to do at that moment was take off my clothes and slip up, quiet as a cat, to stand behind you. While you pretended to sleep, I would take my time and gaze upon your taut backside.

In the light of the nearby sconces, I saw flickering shadows between the cleft of your ass, enticing me with a barely revealed view of the only portal that could link our bodies and souls to an eternity of promised ecstasy and unquestionable possession.

Trembling with nervousness, I cautiously straddled you, not touching you - yet. I heard you sigh in anticipation as I ghosted my fingers over your heated skin, watching amusedly at the prickles the action raised.

So strong was my feeling for you now, I planted light kisses all over your back and ass. I thought I heard you moan. I looked down to see my own cock, full and erect, and in one moment of pent up desire, I slid my cock between the dark cleft and humped you suggestively.

You turned, as though to look at me. That was when I saw the glitter in your eyes. I hope my own eyes were not playing tricks on me by some desperate craving or the disillusioned wishful thinking of a youth lacking in experience. But I hoped within my heart that it was true, that you loved me too, that you would whisper to me those very words that I lived to hear, “I love you. Take me!”

Tears began dripping from my eyes. All that I could ever do was envision all these beautiful images of us being together; sadly it would remain as it was. I was your dream and you were unreachable.

Silent as a breath of air, I stood beside the bed; to watch you fall asleep or watch over your sleep as I had done every night. My fingers itched to touch your hair or caress your chest, yet neither of these could I do.

Sigh upon sigh wafted from my lips as I brooded on my loneliness and my one-sided affair.

Why wouldn’t you open your eyes and look at me with your heart? Surely you could see the love reflected on my eyes only for you, could you not?


~~xx@~ S ~@xx~~


Another day, I heard noises by the door. There were sounds of kissing followed by infectious giggles. I was curious. A small, dark feeling began to well up inside me. Was I feeling jealous?

It went on for awhile in the dimness, just beyond the reach of daylight. The continuous heavy downpour had started that morning and the sun had yet to peak from behind the thick, grey clouds.

When you entered, I saw a man with you. I could not see his face but I was already angry at this faceless competitor. Both of you were clinging to each other as if for dear life as you walked backwards. Your face was latched to his as if he was a creation of your extended appendage.

My rage heated even more when I saw that his hands groped and touched you where only I had imagined ever doing. You stumbled awkwardly, giggling further. Were you both drunk?

Only when starved of air did you let go of him, and that was the first time I saw him.

I gasped with surprise and disappointment. He was as beautiful as the immortal youth bearing the golden wine cup only for the god, and surely I could not compare to him. His skin was olive tanned, and the exposed chest was, without doubt, unblemished perfection, right down to the pebbled nipples and small navel. This Adonis was without question a gift from Apollo, and indeed he matched well with a great prince such as you.

He wore a face of lust, and so dilated were his brown pupils I was afraid if you looked into them, you would drown in them completely and never come back again. You combed your fingers into his dark curls and pulled him back for another wrestle of oral ardour.

I could not lose you.

Nevertheless when you parted, I saw pure happiness and deep love in your face. The heart in my stone- hard body was breaking into dust. You loved him now and I had become merely a marble statue once more, one of the many decorations in your room.

Suddenly, your eyes wandered over to me and I perked up with a tiny hope still alight in my heart. He saw where you were looking and did the same.

“That is a beautiful statue,” he said, a spark of interest appearing in his brown eyes.

“Yes, he is. I clothed him myself and made sure he always had a crown of fresh laurel on his head,” you answered with reverie. That smile that you had often gifted me when we were alone played on your lips.

“You love him, don’t you?” the youth inquired further, but it was more a statement of fact.

“Indeed,” you replied immediately. Believe me, when I heard that, I would have run to you and embraced you so hard.

“So you adore me?” he asked suddenly and held your chin by the crook of his index finger. You looked at him and smiled shyly. I saw the blush on your cheeks, causing them to redden deeper than the wine flush you already had.

My heart fell at your unspoken declaration. But you said you loved me?

He closed the gap between the two of you and kissed you. I closed my eyes this time, unable to bear this stabbing pain in my chest.

I tried to imagine it was my lips on yours, as I licked and nibbled them till your toes curled. I heard you moan and, encouraged, I slipped my tongue into you and sought for the comfort of you reciprocating the testament of my love.

Then I felt you grab me and tighten your hold around me, pulling me against you until I could not breathe. I snapped open my eyes and suddenly found you in front of me. I blinked in confusion.

Had I gone mad from love? Had my fantasy become tangible? Your hard torso, your strong embrace and mostly, your warmth on my skin – all felt so real.

You stared down at me, a puzzled look on your face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. Then you placed your palms on my cheeks.

My eyes widened of their own accord. I actually felt your hands. You were really touching me. Oh, could it really be? Was I not dreaming?

I feared to close my eyes, afraid that you would disappear from me forever.

“Where was the young man here before?” I asked. My voice sounded so strange to me because until now, I had only heard my own voice in my heart and in my mind, never through my ears.

“Young man? Paris, you and I are the only ones here. Are you all right?” You looked very concerned now.

You gave me a name! I was in delirium from profound happiness and uncontained love. It never occurred to me that I looked like the marble statue standing alone at the corner and both of us were the missing twins of the youth who had first entered with you. In actual fact, all three of us were the same person and we were Paris, a son of Troy.

I was in no condition to further explore this unusual occurrence. I would leave it to ponder another time.

I threw my arms around your neck and cried, “I love you.” The three words I had waited for ages to utter, only for you and for you to hear.

“I love you, too, Paris,” you answered shyly. There were unshed tears in your eyes.

We both smiled together as we walked hand in hand to the red oak bed.


~~xx@~ Hector ~@xx~~


Author’s note: Have you ever wondered all those posters you had hanging on your walls could somehow be ‘alive’ and they were watching your every move? And that what these posters were seeing became a dream in the real person itself? Beware, someone is always watching you.
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