Work Text:
Leaving Deidamia’s chambers, I feel different. Violated. Saddened by her anger and desperation.
I run to find my Achilles, needing to feel his warmth after spending so long in Deidamia’s cold. As if they have a mind of their own, my feet carry me through the halls of the palace, through the courtyard, down the beach. I don’t know where I’m running to, but I know I’ll find him there, the way a sunflower instinctively knows to face the sun.
I find him sitting on a jagged rock, staring down at the water as his feet dangle over it and the sun beats down on him. Thetis isn’t there, but it seems she left only moments before. He looks calm enough, like nothing particularly important or dreadful was said when he spoke with his mother. That’s good. I don’t think I could stand any more bad news.
Achilles hears me approaching, the ears of a warrior always fine-tuned to his surroundings. “Are you alright?” He lifts a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, frowning when he sees the expression on my face. When he gets no response, he immediately jumps to his feet, gently cupping my chin so I’m forced to make eye contact.
“What is it? You look pale.”
“Deidamia…” I pause, unable to bring the words out of my throat and past my chapped lips. I don’t want to say what happened—that would make it too real. If I don’t speak it, perhaps it’ll just reveal itself to be a bad dream. It doesn’t work. The memory of her cold skin on mine sends an involuntary shiver through me.
His frown deepens. “She's angry with me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to will the memory away.
“She…I,” My mouth opens and closes uselessly, unable to voice what I had experienced only moments before. I’m still overwhelmed by what happened, and am unsure of how it even happened. I hated every second of it, but still reached my climax, my body spasming at the immense pleasure coiling in my stomach. A ride of guilt rises in me at the memory. She isn’t my Achilles. Her body is frail where his is muscular, her skin pale where his is perfectly tanned, her fingers soft and dainty where his are slightly calloused.
“Patroclus—“
“Am I ugly?”
Achilles looks shocked by the question. He drops the hand that was holding my chin and takes a step back, lips slightly parted in shock.
“You think you’re ugly? Did she—she said that to you?”
“My neck is too short,” My voice sounds shaky and weak, and even I wince at the sound. It reminds me of being a child, of being the son my father didn’t want. I keep my eyes squeezed shut so I don’t have to look into his. “My chest is thin, like a boy’s. And, my face. My face is hideous.”
“Patroclus,” Pa-tro-clus, each syllable pronounced with care, so unlike how everyone else says it. Nothing like the way she had said it. “You believe her?”
My eyes flutter open again, but I have to fight the urge to close them again when my eyes meet the green of Achilles’s.
A finger lightly touches my Adam’s apple and traces its way down his neck, to the space between my collarbones.
“Your neck is not too short, Patroclus. That’s ridiculous,” The finger continues its journey, ghosting over my chest. “Your chest is perfect. Not too thin. It’s broader than you even know, I’d say,” The finger runs over the trail of dark hair that runs down my stomach, the trail he's so deeply familiar with. “I’ve told you of this before, I know.”
The touch brings a fierce blush to my face, but I don't tell him to stop as I had when he first did it, back when we still lived on Mount Pelion. We were younger then, so shy of how strongly we felt for one another.
Achilles brings a hand to cup my cheek, letting his thumb slide over my lips. “And your face is the most handsome one I’ve ever seen. I wish I had a looking glass so I could show you how beautiful you really are.”
“Achilles—”
He shakes his head at the interruption. “I swear it. You know I would never lie to you.”
It’s true. We’ve always been completely honest with one another. Achilles wouldn’t lie to me like this.
He moves his thumb from my lips and kisses me then, softly but earnestly.
“Is that all?” He mumbles as we pull away from our kiss. “She waited until I was gone to insult you?”
“You laid with her.”
Achilles frowns again, and I instantly regret mentioning it. The thought of them together still hurts me, still feels like a sharp spear piercing through my heart.
“I did. You already knew that.”
“Yes,” I hurry, not wanting Achilles to think that’s why I’m so upset today. “She…she was distraught. By your indifference.”
He looks past me, out at the horizon to watch the sun slowly set. “I can’t help it. I didn’t want it.”
“Neither did I.”
That gets his attention again. His head quickly snaps back to me, searching my eyes for answers. “You?”
I shake my head, feeling the tears sting at the corners of my eyes. “I didn’t want it. I pitied her.”
“Did she… force herself onto you?” His eyes light up with a fiery anger, and I know he would burn this entire island down for me.
“Yes.”
He curses at my answer. I can practically see the anger coursing through his blood, and I do not doubt that he considers killing her right then and there.
“She’ll be gone by morning,” I amend, hoping the knowledge of her departure will ease his nerves a little. “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” He frowns, pulling me into his arms. He holds me in a tight embrace, and I feel safe again. Warm. His touch repairs me, makes me forget about her emptiness and cruelty. He is light and warmth and all the good things in the world. He is not her. In his arms, I can pretend that it was all a dream, a terrible nightmare that I can distance myself from. I know it isn’t true, but it doesn’t matter now that I am in his loving embrace. With my skin pressed to his, I no longer shiver or cry. I am calm. I am safe. I am myself again.
“I’ll never let her touch you again,” Achilles mumbles as he presses a kiss to my head. “Or anyone. No one will ever harm you ever again.” He pulls me impossibly closer, so there is no space between our bodies. It feels like our bodies become one. I know we were meant to be like this.
“I know.” I trust that he will keep his promise to me. He always does.