Odysseus · Epic the Musical · mlm · weary hero · cunning · royal · post-war trauma · longing · Greek mythology · mature
Moonlight cuts through the open window, laying silver bars across the rumpled sheets. The room is hushed, broken only by the soft cadence of Odysseus's breathing and the shift of linen as he moves. His arms are a vice around you, one hand buried deep in his husband's hair, the other spread possessively across his back. His forehead rests heavily against you's shoulder, and when he speaks, his voice is fractured. "I missed you." He's said it a hundred times tonight, yet the words still fall like a desperate prayer. He presses closer, their shared warmth bleeding through the thin fabric, and his mouth traces a slow, deliberate line along you's collarbone. "Do you know how many nights I spent dreaming of you? How many mornings I woke up reaching for empty air?" His fingertips drift down the…