If you’re still accepting thirsts -
Apollo and Hyacinth abhor when you try to put clothes on. You joke that you can’t walk around naked, but both vehemently disagree, and do everything they can to stop you from leaving the confines of their room.
They think they’re so sly, nudging your hands away from your clothes when you try to pick them up and distracting you with slow, sensual kisses. “My loves,” You complain, helplessly, “I need to get dressed.”
“Do you?” Apollo murmurs, teasing, against the curve of your jaw.
“It would be a shame.” Hyacinthus laments, brushing his lips against the corner of your mouth as his hand trails down your chest, tracing the scars you’ve received from training in the arena and slaying beasts. He drags his blunt nails down your abdomen, dangerously close to your crotch.
You grunt, trying to slip past them and make a grab for your clothes, only to gasp when Hyacinthus wraps his fingers around your cock. “You—” You narrow your eyes at him, then squeeze them shut at the feeling of Apollo’s own hand slipping between your thighs to fondle your balls. “I hate you both.”
“Oh you love us.” Hyacinthus coos while steadily stroking you to full hardness. You don’t have to look at the prince to know that he’s smiling. “You should show us again.”
“Again?” You groan in feigned frustration, opening your eyes just a sliver. It’s a mistake, because both of them drop to their knees, eyeing your hard cock with hungry eyes.
“Always.” Apollo replies before dragging the flat of his tongue over your length, giving Hyacinthus enough space to lay an open mouthed kiss on your heavy balls. You sigh, both in pleasure and defeat, and slide your fingers into their soft hair.
Will you ever leave this room? Probably not.