InsaneJournal

WHO: Polyxena and Achilles
WHAT: SEXAYTIMES (Or, Let's See How Far Lara Can Write it Before She Gets Uncomfortable!)
WHEN: Friday night
WHERE: Achilles' apartment
WARNINGS: SEXAYTIMES



She had only intended to stay with Achilles for one night, but she had stayed on, worried the warrior would dream about his past the moment she left. Polyxena didn't know how affective she was at keeping the memories at bay, but Achilles did seem to be in a better state of mind with her there than he had been before she began to stay with him.

No matter where she was, Polyxena tended to make herself at home. She had once been a very proper princess who refused to be improperly dressed even on her deathbed. Now, she didn't care about conventions or propriety. She stepped out of Achilles' bathroom, her hair went from a shower. She was wearing a teal tanktop and tight black shorts and she felt that was dressed enough for someone she had been with in the afterlife.

Leaving her hair to air dry, she went to find the warrior.

Polyxena's presence had done a number on his spirit. In the same ways her sacrifice had appeased him in the afterlife, she was a comfort to this troubled soul. The nightmares had not disappeared but there was relief in having another soul in his bed. Another body to wrap his arms around.

Achilles could be an aggressive man, but he never once pressed a woman who was not comfortable in being physical. Clearly, there was a physical attraction between he and Polyxena, but he'd let her come to him. Times before his heart ached for Briseis, longing to be the man she loved again, but she desired him no more in the ways he wanted. It was a heavy burden for him, to have a heart strung for another that refused him. He'd been patient and still it brought him no peace.

Polyxena held enough of his interest to keep his thoughts of Briseis at a distance when she was near. Perhaps it wasn't the safest of relationships right now but her company had meant a great deal.

Achilles was on his bed when she approached. He was seated upright, fingers tapping away on his laptop keyboard. He had promised himself to keep his project away but he was hardly able to when he was so near being finished. He was in a tanktop and jeans, barefoot and sitting comfortably against the headboard.

"Your shampoo makes me smell like a man," Polyxena said, though she wasn't complaining. "Are you writing something?"

He looked up momentarily, taking in that scent as he eyed her. His fingers paused. "I am." He watched her approach, step by step.

"More of your screenplay?" she asked, sidling up to the side of the bed. "How are you doing? I could make you some lunch?" Polyxena sat on the bed then and she smiled at him.

"It seems a waste to ignore ideas as they come to me when I could finish this." His eyes scanned to the side, carefully watching her as she became comfortable.

"I am not hungry." He rested his head back against the baseboard of the bed, closing the laptop. His head turned to the side, his gray-green eyes soft as they danced upon her pretty features.

Polyxena raised an eyebrow at that. "Not hungry really, or not hungry because you're focused on other things. Don't make yourself sick, Achilles," she said, inching closer to him.

He shoved the laptop onto the bedside table. He moved off the headboard, finger tracing an invisible line up her arm. "A little of both," he whispered.

"Then I won't start nagging you for a few more hours," she said with a small smile. She reached her hand out and spread her fingers across his stomach. "What are you focused on?"

His eyes followed her fingers to her face. His hand lay on hers dragging those fingers up his chest. "At this moment? You." The back of his hand stroked her cheek.

Polyxena grinned widely at him, glad to hear she had his focus. It wasn't what she had come in here for, but she wasn't about to complain. "Good to hear," she said, inching closer to him.

Achilles simply grinned removing his hand from hers, nuzzling her nose for the soft brush of a kiss to her lips. It was not the first time they had exchanged such an intimate moment, hardly the last, but the first time he almost begged her just by the soft caress of his lips.

Polyxena kissed him back, climbing over him so she was straddling his waist. "Is this what you were thinking?"

His strong hands grasped her face gently, giving in, needing her closeness. "Exactly what I was thinking," he breathed against her lips, hands traveling down against her curves before softly moving and pressing her into the mattress. Her hair spilled out, illuminating her face, soft against his skin.

In the supposed afterlife he'd tasted what no man had of Polyxena. This was much more concrete, memorable in this life as it was now. He hadn't been close to any one in too long. It felt nice.