He's half my soul

Our Own

Patroclus is laying on my chest while I am playing with his brown curls. It is two days until we leave for Troy. We decided to skip dinner and go to my room early. We are watching the sun set though the large window outside. I must try and remember this moment in time, a moment of peace.
"Achilles, what did it feel like when you slept with Deidameia?" I am not surprised when he asks me this question. I can tell he has been wondering it for a while. I hesitate briefly, wondering how best to phrase my answer that would be the least hurtful. I am tempted to lie, but we have no secrets between one another and I do not plan on starting now.
"It felt strange, it was wet, and I did not like it. I felt as if I was watching myself from above when it happened."
He is quiet. I am quiet. Silence stretches for some time.
"How many times did it happen." He asks quietly.
"Twice." I say slowly, sadly.
"I am sorry." He says against my chest.
We are silent until the suns shadow is all that's left in the sky. Patroclus lifts his head to face me and I lean in to kiss him. We kiss for a while and when we break away, Patroclus gives me a sad look.
"I wish I could bare children for you." He says quietly. I look into his deep brown eyes.
"Patroclus, you give me more than any person in the world could. Not being able to bear children is not your fault, and I don't wish it to be." He studies my face before answering.
"If I ever had a child I would want to have it with you." The sadness in Patroclus eyes is tangible. I wish I had never been forced to sleep with Deidameia. I wish I had never met her. I wish my mother hadn't forced me to be with her. I wish many things that I can't change.
"I would want the same thing." I say with a small smile. He gives me one as well.
"I bet he would have brown hair like yours." I say
"And I bet he would have your sea green eyes." He says back.
"He would be smart like you." I say putting our foreheads together.
"He would be strong like you, and look like a dancer when he runs." He reply's softly.
"He would have olive skin and freckles like you." I say smiling.
"He would have your sculpted cheeks and lips." He says smiling back.
"I bet he would be ticklish like you." I say kissing his cheek.
"He would be pure and good." He whispers.
"He would be our own." I say
"He would be our own." He repeats.
I kiss his neck and trail down his stomach.
"I want to make love to you Patroclus." I say between kisses. He nods pushing a blonde curl behind my ear. Patroclus turns over to lay on his stomach. I trace his back, drawing constellations across it.
"Are you nervous?" I say softly.
"No." He says
"I am not either." I reply
I slowly push myself into him, our bodies are like the strings of a lyre. We work in unison and fit together perfectly, our calls for one another the melody.

When we both finish, we lay on top of the bed breathing heavily. Our skin damp.
"That was glorious." Patroclus says between breaths.
"It was." I reply.
We turn to face each other, our noses brushing. I put the palm of my hand lightly on his stomach.
"We would name him Eros, after our love." I say quietly. He smiles and places his hand on mine.
"He would be our own." He says softly.
"He would be our own." I repeat leaning in to kiss him.