Chapter Text
The two smiled upon seeing each other. Their eyes meeting again for the first time since their parting. The two men rushed toward each other, Achilles barreling into Patroclus’s small frame, engulfing him in a hug that screamed volumes of yearning, and of relief, descending ungracefully to the ground, hitting the pale teal grass rough. The two laugh heartily, both choked with tears, thoughts racing through their minds yet not a word is able to come out. They both roll on the ground, tangled in each other’s limbs, tears mingling and dancing on each other’s cheeks, a symphony of laughter echoing throughout the plain of grass and small flowers, onlookers hiding behind their hands in judgment.
Patroclus sits up, clinging onto Achilles’s shoulders tight, the bare skin growing slightly white from the pressure of his calloused fingers. “Oh, how happy I am to see you again.” He speaks, soft and shaky, textured from the tears. Achilles only nods his response, his golden eyes fixated on Patroclus’s dull brown eyes. He only stared, drinking in every last drop of the boy’s beauty.
His deep, dark brown eyes, reminding him of the rich soils of Phthia, the bags beneath them reminding him of a ribbon dancer’s prop, trailing her graciously like an ocean wave. The small freckles, scattered across his hazel brown skin, as if the gods pulled the brightest stars from Olympus, placing them neatly along his cheekbones and hooked nose. His skin wasn’t bright. It wasn’t shiny, and it wasn’t smooth, and soft. It was dull and thick, patterned with little spots and scars, telling his life story for him. His hands were calloused, and knees bruised as always, soaking in the sun, and giving none back. His smile made his heart soar. Patroclus’s lips were thick and beautiful, his teeth like pearls, haphazardly placed in his mouth, bringing a distinct, and familiar flutter to Achilles’s chest.
Patroclus pulled him back into the embrace, standing with the bright boy, arms clinging on to him, scared of him escaping the grasp. Silently they walked, broken occasionally by a sob or a giggle. They traversed together toward a cliff, overlooking the great, glittery ocean, plopping down with a shared grunt, intermingling their bodies once more. It is silent again, none but the graceful wind pushing waves to the shore, combing her fingers through the grass, rippling and dancing gracefully.
“Patroclus…” Achilles’s rough voice parted the stillness of the air. “There is something that I am afraid of..” He continued.
“Do you wish to share it?” Patroclus asks, his voice silky now, gentle and quiet like a mother’s.
“I am afraid of losing you.” The words struck Patrocus’s heart, grief of the scene he observed in the days prior. Achilles screaming in rage, cursing the gods and belting threats no man would dare think, crumpled over his beloved’s body, chest heaving in pain and sorrow before he was released from the world by Apollo.
“Achilles..” Patroclus murmured, burying his face in the nest of blond curls on Achilles’s head. “I will not go. I shall never leave your side again. I wish to be with you for eternity. We are safe, we are released.”
“Are you sure?” he whimpered, moving his head, his golden yellow eyes locking with Patroclus’s, scanning them for sincerity.
“I am certain, my dear.”
Achilles sighed softly, tears escaping his eyes again, grief flooding out of him in waves. He sobbed, a heartbroken, traumatized sob. Patroclus dared not to break this moment, allowing him to release his feelings. His hands shook, balled into fists as he struggled to not lose himself in the memory. Patroclus held him to his chest, murmuring soft reminders that he was there now, his breath brushing softly against Achilles’s neck.
Achilles clung to his beloved’s arms around his chest, taking deep stammering breaths, his tears staining both their chitons. Patroclus held Achilles’s arm, bringing his body closer to him, the tightness in Achilles’s chest straining and releasing, allowing him steadier breaths.
In short time, he calmed, sobs replaced by stammering breaths, the skin around his honey kissed eyes now pink and wet.
“Do you promise me?” He croaked.
“I’m always with you now, my sun.” Patroclus replied, a soft smile gracing his cheeks.
A smile forms on Achilles’s face, eyes softening as he observed his lover with respect and admiration. Silence filled the air once more, as Patroclus closed his eyes, breathing the air of the setting sun, combing his lanky fingers through Achilles’s messy golden locks. Soon, they’re both laying in the grass, little bugs scurrying around their silhouettes, Patroclus’s head resting on the yellow boy’s chest. Achilles cups Patroclus’s chin in his hand softly, lifting it gracefully, and closing the gap between them.
Their lips locked perfectly, like a final piece of the puzzle being put into place. The kiss is held, both losing themselves in the moment, the world around them seeming so far away, all else evaporating, the only thing left in their universe in this present moment, is them. They part ways, eyes barely open, Achilles’s thick fingers still holding Patroclus’s chin. Achilles sighed softly, smiling. Patroclus giggles, his nose wrinkling slightly, reaching his hands out and squishing Achilles’s cheeks. The gesture confused Achilles, and he laughed, Patroclus joining in, holding his boyfriend’s face in his hands.
“You must be made of stars,” Achilles said, planting a soft kiss on Patroclus’s palms. “With the way you make me feel invincible..” And Patroclus laughed again, chest jerking with joy.
“You could hold a cat and feel invincible, my love.” He teased, jesting the hard-headedness he showed during the war.
“What, is there something wrong with my approach?” He joked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
Patroclus punches his belly gently, startling Achilles. Achilles sat up quick, tackling Patroclus to the ground, the two men grappling on the ground, laughing and yelling joyously, yelping challenges to each other through hysterics. Patroclus leaves a quick, gentle peck on Achilles’s nose, giggling and biting his lip. They sat back, thinking about the days they lived together with Peleus, how they both had chased each other on the beaches and grappled in the fields. Nostalgia held them in a tight grip as they looked over the scenery of the cliff. The water was calmer now, the sun barely grazing the horizon.
“Enjoy yourself?” Asked Achilles, giving Patroclus a tongue-in-the-mouth smirk.
“Who knows, you sure as hell won’t.” Patrocus teased back with a chortle, admiring the amusement in Achilles’s eyes.
Achilles leaned in again, blessing his love with another kiss he held so dear in his heart. They both radiated, the feeling amplified with each gesture and word, and no god could quench the thirst they had for each other's love.
Patroclus slid his hand over Achilles’s, intertwining their fingers and holding his hand, thumb rubbing against the latter’s. He curled up, holding his knees to his chest, letting himself roll onto Achilles’s side. Achilles welcomed this, and wrapped his arms around the boy, laying soft kisses along his cheek and neck. His hold is warm and comforting, ensuring now if it weren’t guaranteed before that Patroclus was indeed safe. They were both lost in the loving embrace now, Achilles observing his boyfriend’s form, locked into place with him like a key. The key.
Patroclus held up Achilles’s hand, laying featherlight kisses on his bruised and rough knuckles, making a scape of light pink grace Achiles’s cheeks. Patroclus observed his gift’s hand, soft and tenderly, as though he were looking at the statue of David. Etching every last scratch, vein, and divot into his mind, moving his eyes along his body, embracing every curve, muscle, and mark, finding beauty in all of it. His skin was a field, full of flowers, wild wheat and thick, tall grass, and Patroclus was running through it, yelling in the peaceful bliss.
Achilles couldn’t help but notice his scanning, and felt his cheeks warm up more, his heart melting to a small puddle in his feet. This boy had always brought safety and contentment to Achilles, no matter where they were, what they did together and how violent the background. He always had someone to go to, and someone to lean on in him.
They needn’t say anything anymore. They were safe. It was finally over. They were one again. Elysium could never be so bright and warm without these two. And they survived, in their own way. They continued to love, and held memories of each other, and formed and lived. Their love was blessed by the gods, a grace given to few. The beauty of this felt like light through honey, a warm and beautiful embrace, sweet and welcoming to even the hardest of the gods. Even to Apollo.
Patroclus offers his love a fig and cheese, the dish they ate frequently when Patroclus first joined Peleus’s discarded boys. He happily accepted this treat, savoring each nostalgic bite, as though nothing had ever compared to the taste before. Patroclus rested his head on Achilles, savoring the final seconds of sunlight granted. Their breaths started to slow, as Patrocus felt his eyes become heavy, an invisible force tugging them down and closed with chains. He didn’t need a blanket, for the two boys’ bodies engrossing each other was enough to keep them warm in even the sharpest of winters. He felt himself begin to drift, despite struggling to stay conscious. He wrapped his arm more around Achilles, rubbing his side gently as he drifted off, sleep in her ethereal form gracing his body with rest, brushing her hand against his eyes and into his mind.
Achilles smiled as the boy went limp, unconscious yet still smiling. He laid back against the grass again, observing the skies and counting the stars, running his finger through Patroclus’s thick curls rhythmically.
“I love you.” He murmured, sleep finally brushing closed his eyes.