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Achilles wakes up at dawn. Sunrise is just a few minutes away. He can tell because the birds outside have already started singing. Achilles groans. It's a Sunday morning, and he originally wanted to sleep until late.
Patroclus is halfway over him, and that makes everything instantly better. His breath tickles his bare skin, and his dark curls tickle his nose. He kisses Patroclus' hair. It smells of rosemary. Briseis had gifted him a scented shampoo, her last experiment woth rosemary. Achilles couldn't help but think that he should thank her for it. It made his husband's hair softer and shinier, and it definitely suited him better than roses. Oh, how he came to hate the damn things after Briseis' shampoo. The smell was just too much with that one, and it sometimes hurt his nose, but this one...
He caresses his husband's hair and back. He draws circles on his tanned skin. And draws out a breathy "Achilles..." from Patroclus' sleep. They had just had sex some hours ago, but he couldn't help getting hard again. Achilles thinks on the million things he still has to do for Monday, and another million things Patroclus has to prepare for his classes. That last bit works. His husband has been overworking himself from the start of the semester. This is his first year teaching. Normally, he would have kept calm, but he's there to take over Chiron's classes! Even Achilles was nervous in his stead the first week!
—How can I compare to Chiron, Achilles? He's my teacher! He's our teacher! He should have chosen you to take his classes!
Achilles had snapped right there. Both because of the nerves and because he just hated how much his husband underrated himself. (He had been working on it in therapy, but old habits are hard to overcome.)
—Patroclus, look at me.— He ordered him, even when he was already holding Patroclus' jaw to force him to look at him. —You're the best option for this. We all know it. You adore every single piece of knowledge you can obtain. You are attentive, calm, gentle... Who wouldn't love you? Who wouldn't want such a great knowledgeable man as their teacher?
At that, tears had started to fall down Patroclus' eyes. Achilles couldn't help but kiss every single one of them and ask all the gods to help his husband. He would have to stop working so many hours at the hospital, by his side, but he believed, this too would make him happy. He had seen the way he explained things to the residents who came up with questions. Patroclus answered even the silliest ones Achilles would honestly just laugh at.
Now, almost half a year later, he could see Patroclus' face lighten up when speaking about his students, and Chiron would offer smug, proud smiles (sometimes smirks) when asking about his best student's work. Achilles loved everything about it all.
His phone buzzes on the bedside table, waking him up from his reverie. A call. From Hector. He takes it before it can wake up Patroclus.
—You were supposed to not answer this call.
Hector sounds tired. Achilles can almost picture the dark circles and heavy bags under his eyes and the ungodly amount of coffee he has consumed in order to keep himself awake.
—Why did you even make it then?
—They want you here. In five minutes. Both of you.
—It's our free day. Is it even an emergency?
—Not at all. Just a fucker being unsopportable. You're lucky He hasn't noticed you actually answered.
—Well then, shut up and end this call. I'll deal with it on Monday.
—Okay. Last thing. Can't wait to beat you in Mario Kart next Sunday.
—Shut up, asshole. You don't stand a chance.
The call ends, and Achilles finally notices how Patroclus' breathing has changed.
—Shit, I'm sorry Patroclus. Did I wake you?
His husband snuggles closer to him. (If that's even possible.)
—You didn't mean it, but it's great waking up to you in such a good mood. Who was it?
His lashes tickle his skin and his mouth leaves ghost kisses all over.
—Hector.
Patroclus sits, still sleepy.
—Is there an emergency? I could get ready in like five minutes-
—No. He'll cover for us. And he wants to play Mario Kart.
Patroclus lets himself fall down against Achilles' chest again. He's shaking with laughter.
—Yeah, that'll do to put you in a good mood.
—Hey!
Achilles pinches Patroclus' belly and tickles him. He pushes him until he's over him and Patroclus is a giggling mess. Of course he retaliates. They only stop when Patroclus is just about to fall down from the bed. Their breaths mingle and their limbs surround the other. They kiss, still breathless and giggly from all the tickling.
—Sleep a bit more, Patroclus. You need the rest.
—You do too.
He whispers before falling asleep in his husband's arms.