Collection of Patrochilles Shorts

Yours

"Do you wish we'd never met?" Patroclus asks, legs swinging back and forth over the edge of the dock. He's examining the trees on the opposite side of the lake with too much fervor, fingers digging in to the wood beneath him. He's still afraid, after all this time, that Achilles might regret him; knows their relationship hadn't made things easier with Achilles' mother, Thetis. Knows that Achilles' tutors were less than happy with the...distraction he provided.

Achilles startles at the question and looks over at Patroclus. His eyes trace his profile—following a bead of sweat as it trails from his hairline to slip along the strong underside of his jaw. Patroclus' curls are swaying softly in the breeze, tickling his ears. Achilles stares for a long, long time. "It might have been easier," he finally says with a shrug, glancing down at the water. His muddled reflection stares back, a smudge of golden paint against a dark canvas. He misses the way Patroclus' shoulders hunch forward, brow furrowing.

"Would... would that have been better?" Patroclus murmurs, eyes still locked on a point across the lake. He thinks of the fight he'd caused this morning between Achilles and Odysseus, his tutor all but forbidding him from spending a weekend at the lake. "You're not ready for finals and Patroclus won't be able to stand in for you, smart as he is. You need to stay here and study, and if you even think about abandoning the team at practice I'll have Hector hunt you down—" Achilles had hung up before Odysseus could finish his sentence.

"Worse," Achilles says, without an ounce of hesitation. He reaches over to grab Patroclus' hand, unfurling his fist to intertwine their fingers. "Much, much worse." Patroclus still worries, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"I don't want—"

"I know," Achilles states, heaving a sigh. He can perfectly recall each time they've had this conversation—spoken and unspoken. "Mother will come around once she truly gets to know you and I couldn't care less about what the others think. I've never been theirs, never wanted much to do with them if we're being honest."

"Always so honest," Patroclus quips, and Achilles can hear the blush in his voice, glances over just in time to the faintest hue of rose red tint his cheeks.

"But from the first moment I saw you, sitting alone in the dining hall, glaring at the mystery meat on your tray like it had mortally wounded you...I knew I wanted to be yours," Achilles admits. "You're all I've ever been sure about, Pat."

Patroclus sputters in embarrassment, blush deepening. "Really? That was the moment you knew you liked me?" he asks, and all Achilles does is smile; closes his eyes and tilts his face up toward the sun. "And a thousand moments after," Achilles thinks.

"That's the one," he replies. Patroclus is silent for a beat.

"...I thought you were a dick," he says, and Achilles laughs so hard he cries.

"I know," Achilles says and then Patroclus is laughing with him. Achilles start swinging his legs, toes grazing the water. It's chilled, the perfect temp for a quick swim. He turns to say as much but then Patroclus' mouth is on his and he can't remember where he is or what he'd been about to say for the life of him. He can taste the lemonade they'd shared earlier, unerringly bitter where it's dried in the fine creases of Pat's lips.

It's just a peck but when Pat pulls away they're both blushing, skin hot as the sun, staring everywhere but at each other. "I'm yours, too," Patroclus says, looking down at their hands, still clasped tightly together. He runs his thumb against the underside of Achilles' palm and his smile is back. "For as long as you'll have me."

"Forever, then," Achilles says, freeing his hand to wrap his arm around Pat's shoulders.

"Forever, then," Patroclus echoes, before Achilles leans forward, all mischievous and joyous and golden, and pulls Patroclus with him into the deep.