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As far as Hypnos knew, Achilles very rarely slept, and seemed to dream even less often. He’d only seen a dream of his perhaps once or twice before, so when he felt a dream bubble up so close by, he was surprised to find it had originated from that stoic warrior down the hall. Helplessly curious by nature, he entered the dream as an invisible viewer without a second thought. It was, after all, such a rarity that he wouldn’t want to miss it.

The scene was a simple one, perhaps too much like real life to really be interesting, but Hypnos remained watching nonetheless. He was in the courtyard with Zagreus, training his ward just as he did in his waking hours. Their swords clashed in careful maneuvers, remembered by Achilles’s body even in sleep from the deep seed of muscle memory, Hypnos was sure.

With a stumble and a clang, their weapons went tumbling to the ground, loosened from their grips by a fumbled maneuver. The sparring match did not end at that, however, as the pair lunged for one another with bare hands, wrestling upright for just a moment before they fell to the ground. Achilles was on top first, then Zagreus rolled them over, and then his teacher got the upper hand again, at last pinning him in place beneath him.

“Ngh!” Zagreus squirmed, trying desperately to escape, but all he seemed to be doing was writhing against Achilles in a less than appropriate manner. 

“I’ve won, lad. Be still,” Achilles said, something urgent in his voice, but Zagreus did not listen. At least, not until he seemed to feel something, and with a shudder, went rigid beneath his now red-faced mentor.

“A-Achilles, you—I didn’t mean to…” Zagreus looked down between them, and at last Hypnos understood what had happened. Achilles was hard.

“Oh lad, look what you’ve gone and done,” Achilles husked, rocking his hips into Zagreus’s.

“Ah—sir!” Zagreus cried out, his face immediately flushed, and reached out to try to push him away. Achilles grasped his wrists, however, and pinned them to the ground on either side of his head.

“Be a good lad, and take responsibility for this, won’t you? For what you’ve done to me?” Achilles said. The room grew darker, smaller. This dream was no longer a scene, but an expression of frustration.

“I-I—” Zagreus stuttered, and Hypnos bit his lip when he saw tears in his eyes. He didn’t like where this was going.

“Anything for you, sir,” he said, voice wobbly. Achilles took it as permission, and quickly disrobed them, the clothes falling away into nothing with the urgency of his dream-dark desires. Hypnos knew he should look away, but he could not, staring in morbid fascination as Achilles fucked into Zagreus and the prince's strained, warbling cries echoed in the tight, dark space this dream had become.

“Oh, lad. Oh, you’ve no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this,” Achilles said, and if he weren’t so uncomfortable, perhaps Hypnos would have laughed at the irony. “You don’t know how you tempt me, you sweet thing. Gods, it's warm.” Achilles tilted his head back, lost in his pleasure and held Zagreus’s hips so he could fuck him onto his cock. Zagreus seemed to flush with shame at the words his mentor was spewing, his moans stifled in his throat.

“So good, so good for me, lad,” Achilles huffed into the increasingly humid air. “I knew you’d be good. I just knew you’d take me so well.”

“S-sir… I can’t—it hurts,” Zagreus squeaked then, and Hypnos felt his gut sink.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright,” Achilles hushed him, leaning back over his limp, trembling body so he could press kisses into his chest. “I’m close, lad. So close.”

“Mnn,” Zagreus mewled through tightly closed lips, tears fully streaking down his face by then. 

Finally, mercifully, Achilles groaned long and loud, and stilled inside Zagreus as he came. Zagreus grew quiet, just breathing stuttered little breaths through parted lips as his eyes closed and he seemed to shut down. There was a moment of stillness then where the warmth of the room drained until the dark became sharp and cold. Achilles shuddered over Zagreus, and then shot up to sitting, his eyes wide as he looked down over what he’d done.

“How repulsive.” 

Achilles and Hypnos both were taken by surprise by the sudden voice, and looked up to see a third figure enter the dream. A tall, broad man with dark skin and long black hair, fully clothed and lightly armored, was glaring down at Achilles now, his lip curled up in disgust. Achilles’s face grew ghostly white looking at him, eyes wide and guilt drawn plain in every line.

“Is this what you’ve become in my absence? Have you truly sunk so low as to lust after your ward? Are you so desperate as to take the poor lad by force?” the man asked.

“I—I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—”

“Save it for someone who wants to hear,” Achilles was cut off. “You disgust me, Achilles. What a blessing in disguise, that we should never see each other again. If you found me, I would not want you’ve become.”

“Pat, no, please, you have to understand—”

The man spat on his face, and Achilles broke off his words with a sob. The darkness grew red, the dream warbling into something somehow even colder, crueler , than before. Something almost self-destructive in nature. Hypnos blinked, aware of himself again, and remembered he had the power to stop this.

“There’s nothing to understand. You're a vile creature, Achilles. Lecherous, manipulative—”

“No-no-no—” Achilles sobbed, shaking his head violently, and Hypnos sprung into action.

“That’s enough!” he boomed, rushing forward to send all the dream-visions scattering with a wave of his hand. Achilles gasped, suddenly free of the crushing weight, but a new shock, a new guilt, read plain on his face as he looked straight at Hypnos.

“Ah, oops. Can you see me?” Hypnos asked.

“I… Hypnos?” Achilles said, still processing. “Is that… am I dreaming you, or are you…?”

“It’s, er, no point in lying now, I guess,” Hypnos chuckled awkwardly. “I’m here, yes. You seemed to be having a real nasty nightmare, so I kind of jumped in without thinking?”

“You… you saw?” Achilles asked.

“Oh, um… yes? Sorry.” Hypnos shrank into his shoulders.

“Oh gods.” Achilles trembled with shame, and immediately Hypnow could feel the dream begin to collapse.

“Hey, don’t worry! I’ve seen way worse, I promise!” Hypnos tried to reassure him, but it was already in motion. Achilles was waking himself up. The icy dark faded into nothing, and Hypnos was pushed out of his consciousness, the dream gone.

...

Hypnos wasn’t exactly sure what to do about what he saw. He figured he should do something, since Achilles had seemed so terrified to know that Hypnos had watched his dream, even if that something was only a quick reassurance that it didn’t make him think any less of him. Everyone had scary dreams about desires twisted beyond self-recognition. It was obvious Achilles didn’t actually want to do that, the way he oozed guilt and shame in the aftermath. But that man, what he’d said and how panicked it made Achilles, was an omen of a deep, deep self-loathing that resonated with Hypnos. He wanted to help, desperately wanted to help, but he was almost certain Achilles would not accept his help. 

Still, the urge to do something lingered and grew over the following days. Achilles was clearly avoiding him—not that they really came into contact all that much to begin with—and he didn’t want to scare him, so he waited until an opportunity to talk to him naturally presented itself.

A week or two after the dream, Hypnos found Achilles in the lounge, drinking alone.

He lingered in the doorway, not yet noticed, and watched as Achilles took a sip of nectar and stared across at the employee-of-the-day-or-night board. It was his own face hanging there, Hypnos realized, and Achilles frowned.

“Ahem.” Hypnos floated in then, catching his attention. “Hey there! Enjoying your break?”

“Ah, uh, Master Hypnos,” Achilles nodded at him, reverent, yet avoiding his eyes.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, already sitting at the table.

“I was… just about to go, actually,” Achilles rushed the words out, and Hypnos suppressed a frown.

“But you’ve hardly started your drink,” he pointed out.

“I, uh, I—” Achilles looked frantically from the glass to the door, and Hypnos sighed.

“I’m not upset with you or anything. I promise,” he whispered, finally catching Achilles’s gaze as he reached across to touch the hand holding the glass. “I just want to talk. I just want to help.”

“That’s…” Achilles gulped, looking around at the lingering shades. “Just, please, not here?”

“Oh, of course. Privacy?” Hypnos snapped his fingers, and every shade in the lounge besides the one seated across from him immediately fell into a deep slumber.

“I… I suppose that does the trick,” Achilles nodded, and settled back into his seat.

“So. I think we both know why I want to talk,” Hypnos said.

Achilles gulped and nodded, his hair falling over his eyes.

“Please. Please don’t tell him,” he begged with a broken voice.

“Tell…? Oh, no!” Hypnos shook his head. “No, no. I’d never tell anyone what I saw in someone else’s dream. Especially one like that.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” Achilles sighed, wiping his eyes, then took a deep break and pushed his hair back so he could look back up. “Then… have you come to reprimand me yourself?”

Hypnos bit his lip, closing his eyes for just a moment as the weight of this man’s immense self-loathing settled in his mind.

“No. Achilles, I just wanted to tell you—assure you—that it’s perfectly normal to have dreams that scare you. It doesn’t mean you want those things, or that you want them exactly how they’re presented,” Hypnos explained.

“Of course I don’t want that,” Achilles said. “But why… why would I think it if—”

“Because the mind is weird,” Hypnos shrugged. “Dreams are weird. They show us things that make us uncomfortable. Make us terrified. Make us… feel things we don’t want to. Just because your subconscious came up with that doesn’t make you a bad person. If anything, the fact that it clearly disgusts you so much is a pretty sure sign that you’re not!”

“I… I suppose so,” Achilles said.

“Believe me, Achilles. I am basically the expert on dreams,” Hypnos said.

Achilles nodded, but didn’t say anything. Hypnos tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, not sure if his silence was a sign that he wanted him to leave, or to stay.

“You still drinking that?” he asked instead, pointing to the glass of nectar.

“Not really. Would you like some?” Achilles offered.

“Sure!” Hypnos took the glass, downing half of it in a few gulps, then sighed and set it back down on the table. Achilles was looking at him strangely then, a million questions in his eyes, and Hypnos decided the answer was stay .

“Here. You have the rest.” He slid the glass back towards Achilles.

“It’s alright, Master Hypnos,” he shook his head.

“I insist!” Hypnos chirped, pressing the glass into his hand. “And it’s just Hypnos.”

“Erm, alright,” Achilles took the drink, and though he’d hesitated, drank the rest all at once. 

“There. Feeling a little better?” Hypnos asked.

“Perhaps.”

“Hm.” Hypnos put his head in his hand, staring across at this guilt-ridden, trepidatious man, and wondered what more he could do for him, what more he wanted to do for him. There was quite a bit, at least in that second list. “You want to know something funny about dreams like that?”

Achilles raised a brow.

“It makes it worse to ignore the feeling,” Hypnos said. “When something haunts you, the farther you run the closer it gets.”

“I…” Achilles leaned away. “But I can’t. I mean, excuse my tone Master Hypnos, but you’re not seriously suggesting I-I—”

“No, no-no-no,” Hypnos shook his head, resisting the urge to laugh at that reaction. “Achilles, sir. All I’m suggesting is that… maybe you need a good lay?”

“I—” Achilles froze, face gone white.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m willing to bet you haven’t, you know, since you died?” Hypnos asked, and from the faint flush on the man’s cheeks, he could guess he was right. “A shade’s body doesn’t, er, run as hot as a mortal one, sure, but you still have needs. And it seems like you’ve neglected them for a very, very long time.”

“Well, I…” Achilles gulped, and Hypnos didn’t miss how he adjusted his robes. “That’s an astute observation, Master Hypnos—”

“Just Hypnos,” he reminded him.

“Right. But I’m afraid I haven’t anyone with whom to, uh, lay.”

Hypnos paused at that, a flush of his own blooming as his toes curled and uncurled against the cold stone floor.

“If… if you’d have me, I’d be willing?” he offered quietly.

“You…?” Achilles blinked, shocked.

“Haha, I know I’m not who you want, but I’m here, and I’m happy to help,” he shrugged.

“Oh, I… oh.” Achilles looked down at his lap. Hypnos felt his heart sink a little, sure that Achilles was just trying to form a polite rejection. To find some way to explain that he wasn’t attracted to him without hurting his feelings.

“I hadn’t thought… but… you’d really?” Achilles looked back up then, a dampened hope in his eyes. 

“Well sure! Who wouldn’t want to have a roll in the hay with the Achilles?” Hypnos answered.

“Aha… that’s very kind of you.” Achilles’s shoulders sunk, loosening just slightly. “But, ah, where would we…?”

“Oh! Well I have—” Hypnos began to offer his little grotto as a location, but then remembered overhearing something about a pact binding Achilles to the house. “Wait. You can’t go to Elysium, can you?”

“N-no. I cannot,” Achilles answered, a familiar guilt on his face.

Hypnos frowned, and made a mental note not to mention Elysium again.

“Well, you have a room in the house, don’t you?” he asked instead.

“I… I do,” Achilles nodded. “But I use it very sparingly. It’s not in the best condition.”

“It’s got a bed, doesn’t it?”

“That it does.”

“Then that’s all we need!”

“I suppose so,” Achilles chuckled, almost smiling.

“I’ll see you there at your next break?” Hypnos offered.

“I—yes,” Achilles agreed. “I’ll see you there.”

...

Achilles fumbled with the lock, but at last got the door to his private chambers open.

“Ahem. Welcome to my… quite humble abode,” he announced as he held open the door for Hypnos. His description wasn’t entirely hyperbolic, as the small room contained nothing more than a low bed, a desk, and a sparsely populated bookshelf. A few spare clothes hung over the edges of the furniture, unorganized parchment scattered over the desk, and the bed remained unmade despite a thin coating of dust.

“Well.” Hypnos put his hands on his hips, surveying the meager quarters, then gestured to the bed. “May I…?”

“Anything,” Achilles nodded, shutting the door behind himself. “It hardly belongs to me.”

Hypnos snapped his fingers, and the sheets cleaned and rearranged themselves, the pillows doubling, and the whole bed looking much more comfortable. 

“And maybe a little mood lighting?” Hypnos suggested, conjuring some candles on the desk to give the room a warm glow.

“Aha, it actually looks half decent in here now,” Achilles chuckled.

Hypnos giggled, flattered, but then the two of them fell into an uncomfortable silence. Achilles met his eyes for just a moment, looking unsure, and Hypnos cleared his throat.

“So. Should we get right to it?” he asked, already shrugging off his cape.

“I… yes. Right,” Achilles nodded, and began to unpin his cloak.

Hypnos carefully removed all his gold ornamentation, leaving himself in only his thin red chiton and the belt keeping it in place as he floated down to settle on the bed.

It took Achilles a bit longer to strip himself of all his armaments, but when at last he wore only his long green chiton, he joined Hypnos on the bed, sitting across from him. Without his circlet, his golden curls fell right into his face, shielding his shy eyes.

“How do you usually like to start things?” Hypnos asked, drawing the back of his fingers across Achilles’s brow to gather the loose strands and tuck them behind an ear.

“I… I usually…” Achilles paused then, gulping, and looked away, his brow troubled.

“Ah,” Hypnos settled back on his hands, leaning away. “I know I’m… not who you would prefer. I could be asleep for it, you know. If I make you too nervous.”

“What? No, that’s alright.” Achilles shook his head. “I very much prefer my partners awake, if you please.”

“Well, I guess I could blindfold you, then?” Hypnos removed his eye-mask to offer it. “So you could pretend…?”

“No, no. It’s alright.” Achilles gently took him by the wrist to lower the offering hand. “You’re… quite attractive enough, as it is.”

“Oh,” Hypnos squeaked and stilled a moment before nervous laughter bubbled out of him. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me!”

“Master Hypnos…” Achilles frowned and released his hand to give him a concerned look. “It is not lost on me that I, a mortal, have been welcomed into bed with a god. You should not think so lowly of yourself that I would need… some other reason to be here.”

“But you—”

“I know, I know,” Achilles cut him off, looking down. “But I… but, please. Let this be an act of worship. I would be ashamed of myself if I offered you anything else, Master Hypnos.”

Hypnos gulped, heavy, and then nodded.

“Okay. But, it’s just Hypnos. Remember?” he said.

Achilles laughed a soft laugh and reached out to take Hypnos’s face in his hand.

“Yes, Hypnos,” he agreed, and brought their lips together in a soft kiss. Hypnos shut his eyes and leaned into him, drawing his hands through the man’s hair again, the curls messy but soft, until they settled behind his neck. Achilles slowly deepened the kiss, taking his time getting used to this new pair of lips, until he seemed to gain confidence and, with a hand resting firmly on Hypnos’s waist, opened his mouth to swirl their tongues together.

Hypnos whined in the back of his throat at that, never having felt someone so skilled kiss him like this before. In fact, he’d been kissed very rarely by his partners in the past, so he wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed by how warm his gut felt already from just the foreplay. 

A hand appeared on his ankle then, and slowly drew up the length of his leg, the hem of his chiton rolling up with it, and he shivered from the gentleness of the gesture. Achilles’s palm settled on his thigh, giving it a playful squeeze before it drifted inwards, then paused.

“May I touch you, Hypnos?” Achilles asked, the words breathed against his spit-slick lips.

“Mn,” Hypnos nodded, already pressing their mouths back together.

Achilles seemed to chuckle in his throat at that, and Hypnos tried to push down any embarrassment he felt with a reminder that boosting Achilles’s ego was part of the point of this.

The hand between his legs found the patch of white curls then, stroking gently through them as if knocking at a door, and Hypnos spread his legs a little wider in invitation. Achilles’s fingers ran down across his tender parts, a whisper of a touch just to familiarize himself with them in the dark of his skirt, then back up to find the bud of pleasure and circle it with the pad of his middle finger. Hypnos gasped into his mouth, such tender touches affecting him in a way he didn’t know they could. Achilles’s kiss turned hungry as he flipped his hand over to better prod for Hypnos’s entrance, first wiggling just the tip of his finger inside, then curling deeper and deeper until he was buried up to the knuckle.

Hypnos moaned into the kiss, grasping the long strands of Achilles’s hair in his hands, and Achilles took that as a sign to press a second finger inside along with the first.

“Ahn,” Hypnos broke away to moan, his hips rolling along with the rhythm of the fingers curling inside of him.

“Is it good?” Achilles asked, still somehow looking unsure. “I, admittedly, haven’t much experience with… uh…”

“A vagina?” Hypnos supplied.

“Yes.”

Hypnos giggled at the way Achilles’s ears reddened and pressed a few chaste kisses to his jawline.

“You’re doing great,” he told him. “Though I’m, admittedly, pretty easy to please.”

“I see,” Achilles smiled. “Is there anything else I could be doing to, er, bring you pleasure, M—uh, Hypnos?”

“Rub the clit again,” Hypnos instructed. “With your thumb.”

“Like this?” Achilles did as he was told, making wide, wet circles with the pad of his thumb, and Hypnos’s head rolled back involuntarily, a whinny moan warbling from his throat.

“Yes. Yes, like that,” he nodded fervently, and Achilles hummed his approval, bending his head so his lips could find the curve between Hypnos’s neck and shoulder. His fingers worked methodically inside Hypnos as his mouth sucked and nipped at his sensitive skin, filling him with a trembling, precious pleasure. He cried out continuously, grasping at Achilles’s clothes and hair like he might lose this treasured moment if he could not keep its glow cupped between his palms.

At last he shivered and stiffened, pulsing around the fingers still thrusting inside and came to the feeling of Achilles biting down, hard, at the junction of his neck.

“Ah, that’s, ah , sensitive,” Hypnos whispered when Achilles did not initially stop, but those words were enough to have him pulling his fingers out and lifting away from Hypnos’s neck.

“Sorry. Did you…?” 

“Heh. You really aren’t experienced with this, are you?” Hypnos chuckled weakly through his post-orgasm haze.

“It was… only a few times,” Achilles admitted, eyes lowered. “And I… wasn’t so intent on my partner’s pleasure, then.”

“Hm,” Hypnos laid back against the pillows, one hand still toying with the ends of Achilles’s long hair. “You’re a fast learner, then. I wouldn’t have known.”

“Ah, good,” Achilles smiled, his clean hand rubbing gently against the soft skin of Hypnos’s thigh. “Are you… can we continue?”

Hypnos glanced down to see a tent in Achilles’s skirt, the cloth a bit damp at the tip, and bit his lip.

“Of course. But can I ask one thing?” Hypnos sat back up, drawing their faces close.

“Anything.”

“Will you come inside?”

“Oh, gods,” Achilles groaned, nodding, and kissed Hypnos again, brief but desperate. His hands found the clasp on Hypnos’s belt then, and with only huffs and giggles and the briefest of words, Hypnos helped him remove first the belt and then his chiton, pulling it up and over his head to leave his body, nude and flushed, on the bed before Achilles.

“Here. Just a moment.” Achilles stood to more easily peel off his own robe, revealing a broad chest, thick with defined muscle, pale scars just barely visible all across his bronzed skin. His undergarments just as easily fell aside, and Hypnos mewled at the sight of him there, thick and hard, already flushed and leaking.

“Can I take you?” Achilles asked as he settled back on the bed, bracketing Hypnos with his body. He made Hypnos feel small, looming like that, and he liked it.

“Yes. Yes, please,” Hypnos nodded.

“Let me know if it’s… too much,” Achilles spared him one last hesitant glance before lining up his cock at Hypnos’s entrance and gently pressing inside.

“Oh, oh yes,” Hypnos fell back against the pillows, his back arched and hands searching for something to clench around. He was so thick, the stretch burning in the best way, like a flag raised and waving, warning of how wrecked he was sure to become.

“Hah, it’s tight,” Achilles husked, stopping for a moment to let his eyes flutter shut and just feel what it was like to be inside a god.

“You’re huge,” Hypnos said, clenching purposefully around him to watch the man’s face squeeze up with pleasure and restraint. “I love it.”

“Hypnos, please,” Achilles rasped, and Hypnos tilted his head curiously.

“Close already?”

“It’s been… quite some time… as you know.”

“Ah, well. Good thing I’m easy to please,” Hypnos stroked a hand down Achilles’s face so the man’s eyes darted back up to meet his. “I don’t mind if it’s short.”

“Oh, it’s going to be,” Achilles nodded, gulping thickly, before at last he pulled his hips back and began to move.

“Nn!” Hypnos startled, grasping at the pillows behind his head. They both cried out when Achilles rocked back in, his rhythm deceptively gentle for how torturously good it felt. Hypnos sunk back and just took it, lost in the feeling of being stretched so wide and fucked so deep. Achilles’s hands found possessive purchase on Hypnos’s waist, lifting him up so Achilles could sit back on his heels, head tilted back and hair tumbling down his shoulders. Hypnos looked at him through squinted eyes, this great warrior who usually sunk into himself, shoulders tight and head low, was finally open and vulnerable, his pride and talent shining out through his chest like rays of sun Hypnos could almost see. Or perhaps it was just the way the candlelight fragmented through the tears in his eyes. He couldn’t really be sure. 

“Hah, hah, Hypnos!” Achilles huffed. “Hypnos, you feel—it’s so—”

“Mnnn-aahhh ,” Hypnos moaned his agreement.

“Oh, gods. Oh, Hypnos. Oh, please,” Achilles chanted, his voice beautifully strained, like the strings of lyre pulled too tight. 

“There! There, there, there, don’t stop!” Hypnos joined in, the angle suddenly pressing against his insides just the right way to make him see stars.

“Trying, trying,” Achilles panted.

Hypnos clamped up around him, pleasure pulsing through him in waves as he moaned long and loud, completely lost in heat and spark and Achilles.

“Coming, coming, I’m coming” Achilles warned, his body crumpling forward again as he held Hypnos’s hips as tight to his as he could, warmth pooling in Hypnos’s belly as he spilled into him. 

Achilles collapsed when he was finished, his breath coming out like he’d completely forgotten to breathe while he came.

“Oh, wow,” Hypnos said. He closed his eyes, happy to just lie there with a comfortable weight atop him, sweaty and blissfully fucked-out.

Achilles just breathed for a while, and Hypnos gave him all the time he needed to recover. He’d be perfectly fine with falling asleep like that, and in fact fully intended to, but eventually Achilles seemed to return to his senses, rolling off of Hypnos to lie beside him.

“I, erm, thank you, Hypnos,” he said, running a hand through his messy hair.

“It was my pleasure,” Hypnos said, curling into his side and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Achilles stilled at that, and Hypnos frowned sheepishly.

“O-oh, sorry,” he started to pull away.

“No! No, it’s alright,” Achilles reached out to keep him close, and Hypnos chuckled just once as he settled back into him.

Achilles cleared his throat, a flush on his cheeks.

“My… my apologies. I thought, er, I didn’t know if… if that was alright,” he said.

“Anything’s alright,” Hypnos shrugged. “We can be whatever we want. Do whatever we want.”

“Hm,” Achilles seemed to relax again, finally, and stroked a hand through Hypnos’s hair. Hypnos closed his eyes, leaning into the touch, and he could have sworn he heard Achilles let out a single, breathy laugh.

“I suppose you’re right,” he whispered.

“I’m always right,” Hypnos mumbled, already half asleep. He hoped Achilles was alright with sleeping after sex, especially if they were going to continue. And Hypnos very much hoped they were going to continue, he managed to think before falling gently, blissfully asleep.